Page 48 of Her Last Choice

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

With no clear idea how long it would take for the blood test results to come back, Rachel got to work. Jack decided to leave, not wanting to stay at the hospital for too long. He was already freaking out about Anderson somehow finding out, so, while Rachel started to dig into the therapists lead, he went back out to interview a few of the people still on the waiting list, hoping to learn more about their experiences with the foundation, Dr. Lucas, and any therapists that may have also been suggested by Life Fulfilled.

Before she started trying to compile information, she thought about something Dr. Lucas had said when they’d surprised him at Vicki Freemont’s house. He’d been telling them about the patient he’d accidentally killed, the patient who had received triple the amount of morphine that was needed. Dr. Lucas had specifically mentioned conversations he’d had with the patient’s therapist about the morality of assisted suicide. It was more than enough to make Rachel think Lucas was comfortable working hand-in-hand with therapists. In other words, he’d likely be a decent place to start.

Rachel started by calling Life Fulfilled to get his number. She couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Wes Dalton had called and notified his staff to be as difficult as possible, throwing up obstacles at every turn now that they had confronted him on his non-professional actions. But she found this not to be the case at all; the receptionist she spoke to at Life Fulfilled was more than happy to provide her with the number.

She called Dr. Lucas and when he answered, it seemed as if he was still shaken from their encounter earlier in the day. He sounded worn down, maybe even a little depressed. She supposed being dragged back through his actions in Tennessee had to take it out of him.

“Agent Gift,” he said after she’d introduced herself again. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I was really hoping to not have to speak with you again.”

“Well, I promise it’s not going to be quite as difficult this time. Dr. Lucas, I need to know what other professional services are sometimes offered at Life Fulfilled. They offer you as a medical evaluation of sorts, and I know they sometimes help with financial assistance. But I’m wondering if there are any therapists they send their clients to.”

“Yes, actually. And really, it’s not uncommon with people who have been given a diagnosis of the terminal kind. With Life Fulfilled, every client is required to meet with a therapist at least once.” As he explained this, Rachel considered her first doctor’s visit back when she’d been first diagnosed. One of the many pamphlets she’d been handed was for local therapists who specialized in this area.

“Is that one visit a prerequisite to get on the waiting list?”

“It is.”

“Do you have any idea how many therapists Life Fulfilled works with?”

“Three that I know of for sure. But really, that number has come down to two. One of them left the foundation a few weeks ago. From what I understand, she moved to North Carolina and started working with a private practice.”

“Do you know why?”

“I don’t. But I can deduce it probably came down to money. From what I gather, the therapists that work with Life Fulfilled aren’t given much money. They are a non-profit after all. Think about it…there’s a reason they got me, a retired doctor who had his license revoked, to come on board.”

“Have you worked closely with the two remaining therapists?” Rachel asked.

“Closely, no. But I’ve met them both and they’re both quite pleasant. You can tell they are in their profession because they truly care for people.”

“Would you happen to have their names and numbers?” As she asked this question, there was a knock on her door. The same nurse came back in, holding a folder. When she saw that Rachel was on the phone, she simply stood just inside the door, waiting.

“I do,” Dr. Lucas said, “but it’s all saved in my phone. Hold one second, would you?”

“Of course. Thank you.” She then looked to the nurse and gave an apologetic frown. “Sorry.”

“Oh, no worries.” She approached the bed with the folder. Rachel knew the contents inside the folder were her blood test results and for the first time since being diagnosed, she wasn’t worried. Aside from passing out, she truly did feel better than she had in weeks. She was already starting to wonder if what had happened after speaking to Anderson had been nothing more than an overwhelming wave of emotion brought on by the fact that Alex Lynch had somehow managed to evade the US Marshals.

“Good news?” Rachel asked. She still had her phone to her ear while Dr. Lucas searched for the names and numbers of the therapists.

“Good news for sure,” the nurse said. “All of your tests are showing better-than-expected results. Your hemoglobin count is a bit higher that we usually like to see, but that’s just a result of the dehydration, and we fixed that up with the fluid we gave you. In other words, if you’re going to insist on remaining active, just make sure you’re getting plenty of fluids.”

Another voice spoke up, this one male and right in her ear. “Okay, Agent Gift? I’ve got those numbers.”

“Great. Can you give me just one second?”

“Oh sure.”

Rachel looked to the test results, latching on to the term the nurse had used. Better-than-expected results. She couldn’t help but think of Grandma Tate and her miraculous recovery. And while she wasn’t so naïve as to think she’d be granted a similar fate, it did make her feel better about her desire to keep working—at least for a few more weeks

But let’s focus on this case first, she thought.

“So everything looks good?” Rachel asked.

“Everything looks great,” the nurse responded. “Unless you have any other questions, you’re free to go, Agent Gift. Just stop by the desk on your way to the elevators to sign a few things.”

“Thanks so much,” Rachel said, riding a slight wave of euphoria. She eyed the folder as the nurse carried it back out with her and then turned her attention back to her phone, where Dr. Lucas was still waiting on the other line. “Sorry about that. You were saying?”


Tags: Blake Pierce Mystery