“Evening, Chief.” Pete walked into his supervisor’s office with his hands in his jacket pockets.
“Hey, Pete. What’s going on? It’s a little late for you to still be here, isn’t it?”
Everyone called him “Chief,” but Ray Zimmerman was the lead paramedic. In the hierarchy of EMTs, Pete was at the intermediate level. Zimmerman was at the highest level; he was a paramedic and in charge of the team.
“Yeah, I should be getting home, but I was trying to catch up on my reports. Listen, um, you got a minute?”
“Sure. Take a seat. What’s on your mind?” Zimmerman leaned back in his chair. He was a tall, ball-headed man who looked intimidating, but to those who knew him, he was a softy.
“Theo is still volunteering at the wildfire over in California, right?” He pulled out the metal chair and dropped into it.
“Yep. I actually just heard from him today. Says he’ll be back the day after tomorrow. Why? You miss him or something?” He chuckled.
“Not really. He’s not the type of guy to buddy-up to people, I don’t think.”
“All right. What’s got you concerned then? That woman you lost? Pete, you know it’s part of the job. It happens. You and Theo did everything you could.”
“See, that’s where I’m not so sure, Chief.”
Zimmerman’s brow creased and he folded his arms over his chest. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know.” Pete stared at the floor for a moment. “I just. I just don’t know what happened. I mean, the woman was stable, then she wasn’t. Just like that.” He snapped his fingers.
“Are you saying Theo screwed up something?”
“Maybe. I’m probably way off base here, but he just doesn’t seem right to me, you know?”
“Not seeming right and making a mistake on the job are two very different things, Pete. Stop dancing around what it is you want to say and just say it. It won’t leave this room. I can promise you that.”
Pete captured Zimmerman’s gaze once again. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, what if Theo did something on purpose?”
The chief’s expression fell blank. “Pete, now I think you should be really careful what you say here because I want to be sure I’m understanding you as clearly as I can.”
“I think you know what I’m saying, Chief. Theo’s been here, what, less than a year?”
“Something like that.”
“I wonder how many patients we’ve lost since that time. He’s only been my partner since this summer. What about before that?”
“He was partnered with Hopkins.”
“And she’s gone. She quit,” Pete added. “I’m just saying, I’m starting to get a bad feeling about Theo. I mean, how does a guy who used to be a doctor end up working as an EMT?”
“I asked him that very question. He said he couldn’t afford the malpractice insurance anymore. I didn’t think anything of it after that.”
Pete grunted. “Okay. Say that’s true. How the hell does he afford to keep taking time off and flying around the country to play hero every time some natural disaster strikes?”
“Come on now. You can’t fault a man for wanting to help others in need. With his medical training, I’m sure he’s an invaluable resource to those people.” Zimmerman pulled up in his chair. “Look, I get where you’re coming from. You just lost a patient. It hurts like hell and you start looking for any explanation for how it could’ve happened. You do bring up some valid points, so here’s what I’m going to do. I’ll review Theo’s report on the DOA and I’ll look for any inconsistencies. Then, I’ll reach out to the ME and see what she thinks. If you want to know the cause of death, she’ll have it by now or very shortly. Will that settle your concerns for the time being?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Thanks, Chief. I appreciate you listening to me.” Pete stood. “I’m going to head out now.”
“Good idea. I’ll let you know what I find out.” Zimmerman waited for Pete to leave before peering through his office window. He rubbed his smooth chin and shook his head. “Malpractice insurance, huh?” He turned back to his computer and typed in a command. “Probably something I should’ve done sooner, but better late than never.”
The screen populated with the file of Dr. Theodore Bishop. The 33-year-old graduated Fieldbrook Medical School in Rhode Island five years prior. He received his EMT certification last year and worked for EMS in Pittsburg for a brief time before moving to Baltimore where he was hired on.
Zimmerman studied the information on the screen and considered the timing of it all. “Where did you do your residency?” He’d known that it took something like three years in residency before one could become a doctor. There had been a time when he considered med school before opting to become a paramedic instead. The amount of schooling and the cost alone was enough to dissuade him. But he recalled something about the programs.
He pulled up the medical licensing board in Rhode Island to find out where Bishop served his residency. “Our Lady of Mercy. Providence.” He jotted down the details. Everything seemed legitimate and it was too early in the morning to make any calls.
Zimmerman shut down his computer and pulled on his coat from the back of his chair. “I’ll have to take a fresh look later.” He walked outside and reached his car, then slipped into the driver’s seat when an idea struck. With his phone in hand, there was one person who he wondered if she had the same
