I’m struggling to find a lead as a new government watchdog investigator in a Chicago firm. It seems that I may have underestimated the difficulty in uncovering another front-page story, even though I’m working where cadavers vote for presidents and governors retire to penitentiaries. Little did I know that my father, Nathan, or Papa as I like to call him, is about to lose his healthcare businesses to a massive corporation that’s scamming the very citizens supporting it with their donations and tax dollars.
On the verge of financial ruin, Papa pleads for me to look into the multi-billion dollar scandal. Without hesitation, I, along with my new assistant and best friend, Jerome, tackle the lead head-on. My love and passion for the truth drive me, even when our lives are threatened by powerful and dangerous people.
During our quest, Jerome—a gay black man in a biracial marriage—and I discover that family doesn’t have to mean blood. We forge an unbreakable bond exploring all we have in common, all the while embracing our differences of race, upbringing, and sexual orientation.
– Walter Cronkite –
What an egomaniacal prick. Short, bald and carries a chip on his shoulder. Kendrick’s the CEO of Idaho Healthcare System and believes healthcare is the next Microsoft or Apple, just ripe for the picking.
“Ms. Durbin,” the radiology technician called.
Louise Durbin rose from her seat, her movements slower than they’d once been. Once a striking figure in her youth, life’s wear and tear had left her a shadow of what might have been. Years of poor choices, questionable alliances, and a penchant for instant gratification had painted lines across her heavily made-up face. Her thinning strawberry-blonde hair and tired eyes told the story of a woman who had battled her way to the top of a dubious hill and discovered the summit wasn’t worth the climb.
Louise’s career at Peru Hospital had been less about hard work and more about strategic compromises. Starting as a secretary, she ascended the ladder with a willingness to bend rules and moral compasses. Eventually, she secured the role of Executive Director of Hospitality—a position created just for her by the married Chief Operating Officer. Her dubious reputation reached Kendrick Varro, who saw her potential for handling delicate matters.
Two years ago, Kendrick gave Louise a simple but sinister task—accuse Nathan Vaughn of making unwanted advances. The mere accusation, credible or not, would be enough to tarnish his reputation. But Louise botched it. Investigators quickly dismissed her claims as baseless, and Kendrick, furious but cautious, kept her close. Termination wasn’t an option—not when loose ends could be tied up better by keeping them in sight.
On this particular morning, Louise was at the hospital’s diagnostic center for an MRI on her left shoulder. A late-night tumble two weeks earlier had left her in pain. She hadn’t mentioned that the injury occurred during an awkward dismount from a new acquaintance’s Harley Fat Boy in a biker bar parking lot.
Louise followed the technician into the MRI room and changed into a hospital gown. Once ready, she lay on the narrow table as the tech slid her into the machine, placing a panic button in her hand and explaining, “Squeeze this if you feel uncomfortable.”
The rhythmic thrum of the machine’s magnet soon filled the room, a mechanical heartbeat that lulled Louise into uneasy relaxation. What she didn’t know was that someone had sabotaged the linens stacked in the corner of the room. Among the neatly folded sheets lay a one-liter oxygen tank—a seemingly innocuous object that became a deadly projectile in the powerful magnetic field.
At 8:15, the machine’s magnet activated, pulling the tank into its orbit. It tore through the stack of sheets and shot forward with lethal velocity, smashing into the tube. The sound of metal-on-metal rang out, followed by Louise’s muffled scream.
The tech froze as he watched Louise’s legs stiffen, then go limp. The impact had fractured her skull and driven the tank’s valve mere millimeters from her brainstem. The MRI room was now silent except for the machine’s steady hum.
The tech backed away, horrified. “I checked everything,” he whispered, tears streaming down his face. “There was nothing there. I swear.”
But someone had ensured there would be.
