Chapter 4: The Name on the Report
Dr. Voss stopped smiling when he realized I was coming toward him.
He tucked his phone into his blazer and waited beside the administrative offices, looking perfectly at ease beneath the fluorescent lights.
“Nurse Ashworth,” he said.
“I was beginning to think you had decided to ignore my instructions.””
“I have a question.””
“Submit it through your supervisor.””
“It concerns Petty Officer Delgado.””
His expression hardened at the name.
“What about him?””
“Why did you order me away from his bedside?””
“Because you have a personal connection to the patient.””
“You asked me to explain that connection before you decided whether it was a problem.””
“And now I have decided.””
“You decided before I finished speaking.””
He glanced toward the nurses' station.
“You are not in a position to challenge my clinical judgment.””
“I haven't challenged your clinical judgment. I've asked why you seem so determined to keep me away from a patient who recognized me.””
For a fraction of a second, his eyes flicked toward the trauma bay.
Then he stepped closer.
“Be very careful, Caroline.””
It was the first time he'd used my first name.
“I've been careful for four years,” I replied.
“I'm getting rather tired of it.””
He studied my face.
Then he gave me a thin smile.
“Go home. Get some rest. Whatever you believe happened during your military service, this hospital is not the place to revisit it.””
My stomach tightened.
“Whatever I believe happened?””
He adjusted his cuff.
“You're exhausted. You have a history of trauma. And now you've encountered a former colleague under distressing circumstances. These things can affect one's judgment.””
“You know nothing about my judgment.””
“I know enough to recommend administrative leave until this matter is reviewed.””
I stared at him.
“You're removing me from duty because I recognized a man?””
“I'm removing you because you failed to disclose a potential conflict of interest.””
“I didn't know he was coming.””
“That is irrelevant.””
He turned toward the office door.
“Your supervisor will explain the arrangements.””
I watched him disappear inside.
For several seconds, I remained motionless in the corridor.
Then I went looking for Denise.
She was standing at the medication station, speaking to another nurse. When she saw my face, she excused herself and followed me into the supply room.
“Tell me he didn't do what I think he did.””
“He put me on administrative leave.””
“Effective immediately?””
“Apparently.””
Denise shut the door.
“This is ridiculous. You disclosed the connection when you recognized Delgado. You didn't hide anything.””
“He thinks my history makes me unreliable.””
“No. He thinks your history makes you inconvenient.””
She spoke quietly, but every word landed.
I leaned against a shelf.
“Why would a doctor care whether a nurse recognizes a patient?””
“Because some people confuse authority with ownership.””
Denise folded her arms.
“I'm documenting everything. You should do the same. Every conversation, every instruction, every change to the patient assignment.””
“I will.””
“And Caroline?””
I looked at her.
“Don't confront him alone again.””
I almost laughed.
“I'm not planning to confront anyone.””
That was technically true.
At that moment, I had no plan at all.
I only knew that Marcus was alive, that Dr. Voss wanted me away from him, and that my father had somehow connected the same name to the money he claimed I was hiding.
I retrieved my belongings from the staff locker room.
My phone buzzed as I reached the exit.
Megan had sent three messages.
*Megan: I found something in Dad's office.*
*Megan: I think it's connected to what you asked me about.*
*Megan: Please don't call him until you've seen it.*
An image appeared beneath the messages.
It showed an open manila folder on a wooden desk. Several pages lay scattered across it. My name appeared near the top of the first document.
*CAROLINE ASHWORTH — MEDICAL REVIEW AND COMPENSATION INQUIRY.*
Beneath it was a date from four years earlier.
I enlarged the image.
At the bottom of the document was a signature.
*Harlon Voss, M.D.*
For a moment, I couldn't breathe.
The signature was unmistakable.
I had seen it before.
Not in a hospital corridor. Not on a staff memo. Not on a prescription.
I'd seen it on an official medical review connected to the ordnance accident that had nearly killed me.
I sat down on the bench by the staff entrance and read Megan's accompanying message.
Dad said Dr. Voss could help us locate the settlement money. He said the government had set aside hundreds of thousands of dollars for you, but you refused to share any of it.
I typed back.
Did he tell you when the settlement was paid?
Her response came almost immediately.
He said it was finalized last year.
I stared at the screen.
There had been no settlement.
I'd received my ordinary military benefits and the compensation to which I was entitled after being injured. Some of it covered medical expenses. Some supported me while I recovered. None of it had amounted to the secret fortune my father seemed convinced I was hiding.
More importantly, I'd never received a payment through Dr. Harlon Voss.
I sent Megan another message.
Take pictures of every page. Don't remove anything from his office, and don't confront him.
Then I called an old number I hadn't used in almost two years.
Chief Mercer answered on the fourth ring.
“Caroline? Everything all right?””
“Chief, I need to ask you something about the accident review.””
Silence.
Not the ordinary silence of a man searching his memory.
The kind that came when someone heard a name they hoped never to hear again.
“Which review?”” he asked.
“The final medical assessment. The one signed after I was evacuated.””
“I thought you had your copy.””
“I did. I'm asking about the civilian physician who signed it.””
Another pause.
“Where did you see his name?””
“Dr. Harlon Voss.””
The silence deepened.
Then Mercer lowered his voice.
“Where are you right now?””
“Outside Ashford Memorial.””
“Go somewhere private.””
“Chief, what was Voss doing in my medical review?””
“I can't answer that over the phone.””
“Why not?””
“Because I don't know who else has access to the records anymore.””
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“What does that mean?””
“It means you need to be careful, Caroline. There were things about that incident that never sat right with me.””
“Such as?””
“I'll explain when I see you.””
“Chief, I just found one of the men from that team alive. He recognized me. He said people told him I was dead.””
Mercer exhaled sharply.
“Marcus Delgado?””
“Yes.””
“Oh, God.””
The words came out like a prayer.
“You know something,” I said.
“I know that the casualty report never matched what some of us saw that day.””
My pulse quickened.
“What did you see?””
“Not over the phone.””
“Chief—”
“I'll call you back from a secure line.””
The call ended.
I stared at the screen.
Then I noticed a new notification from Megan.
It was another photograph, this time showing a handwritten note in my father's familiar block letters.
*VOSS SAYS THE PAYMENT CAN BE RELEASED IF CAROLINE COOPERATES. FAMILY MEETING FIRST.*
Underneath, someone had written a number.
$425,000.
My father's obsession with my supposed settlement suddenly made a horrible kind of sense.
He didn't believe I was hiding money because he had seen a bank statement.
Someone had convinced him the money existed.
Someone who had signed the medical review of the accident that destroyed my old life.
And that person now worked in the same hospital where Marcus Delgado was fighting to survive.
I looked through the glass doors toward the main corridor.
Dr. Voss was standing at the far end, speaking with a security officer.
He glanced toward the entrance.
Even from a distance, I could recognize the expression on his face.
He wasn't surprised that I had started asking questions.
He was watching to see how far I would go.
My phone vibrated again.
This time, the message came from Denise.
Something's wrong with Delgado's transfer orders. Come back if you can. We need to talk before Voss finds out.
I stood so quickly that the bench scraped against the floor.
Then another message appeared.
His destination has just been changed.
May you like
And beneath it, in a second text:
No one on our team authorized the change.
