Jack wasn’t sure how forthcoming he could be. “It was Rene who convinced me I should represent the Laramore family in their lawsuit against BNN. Thursday’s meeting was a follow-up on that, but I don’t know what it was about specifically.”
Ross looked away, then back. “Well, I do know what she was going to tell you.
“How?”
“We talked the night before she died. She told me what she’d found.”
“What did she tell you?”
He started to answer, then stopped. “Did you see the posting on Celeste Laramore’s Facebook?”
It seemed like a change of subject, but Jack went along. “Yes, I saw. But I should tell you, those were posted in violation of a court order. I can’t discuss what they say.”
“That’s fine. You have your orders. But the reality is that those postings were up long enough to leak all over the Internet. And they’re all over the hospital, too. Surely you can appreciate the interest in a claim that the media interfered with the transmission of data from the ambulance to the ER.”
“It was certainly of interest to Rene,” said Jack.
“Which brings me back to my original point,” said Dr. Ross. “One of those Facebook postings said something to the effect that a doctor at Jackson had reviewed the data and confirmed that if the transmission had gone through, doctors in the ER would have recognized that Celeste had a heart defect and started treatment that could have stopped her from slipping into a coma.”
“I know what you’re talking about,” said Jack. “But like I said, I can’t discuss that.”
“I’m not asking you to discuss it. I just want you to hear what I’m saying. The unnamed doctor who reviewed the data: that was Rene.”
Jack was surprised-but he wasn’t. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, Rene reviewed that data. She drew that conclusion. As I said, she was on her way to tell you that when she was murdered.”
“That couldn’t have been an easy decision.”
“It was quite courageous, if you ask me.” Dr. Ross waited for a couple of visitors to pass on the way to their car, then continued. “Rene and I were up half the night before your meeting, talking about it. She wasn’t sure if telling you was the right thing to do or not. We finally agreed she should.”
It gave Jack even more respect for Rene, but he couldn’t help wishing she’d come out the other way. “Did she talk to anyone else about it?”
“No way. She was agonizing over this and reluctant to get more involved than she already was. Her intention was to pass along the information to you and step aside.”
Jack processed it. “So at the time of Rene’s death-before this ended up on Faebook-there were only two people who knew what Rene was going to tell me.”
“Right. One was Rene, and she was dead before things started popping up on Facebook. The other is me, and until this very moment, I haven’t told anyone.”
Jack said, “Which raises the question: Who posted that information on Celeste’s Facebook page?”
“I haven’t had time to think this through,” said Dr. Ross, “but just talking it out with you makes it seem obvious, doesn’t it? There’s only one person it could be.”
“The man who killed her,” said Jack.
Dr. Ross looked back, stone-faced. “It makes sense, right? He got that information out of her before he killed her.”
An uneasy silence came over them. The extraction of information before death only added to the heinous nature of the crime.
“You need to tell this to the police,” said Jack.
“I know. I will.” He buried his hands in his pockets and looked off toward the street. The extraction theory was weighing heavily on them both. “I need to get back inside,” the doctor said.
“And I should probably be going. But thank you for this,” Jack said, extending his hand.
Ross shook it, though he didn’t look Jack in the eye. He stepped away, and Jack went in the opposite direction, toward his car.
“Swyteck,” Dr. Ross said, stopping him.
Jack turned.
“Rene always said you were a decent guy.”
Jack gave a nod of appreciation. The doctor continued toward the funeral home. Jack walked back to his car, alone.
Chapter Thirty-Five
At one fifteen A.M. Jack was in bed but still awake. He got up and made himself a cup of tea in the microwave, cleared away a place to sit on the couch, and watched about twenty minutes of a
“Sorry, boy. It’s not time to run.”
Max almost seemed relieved. He climbed up on the settee and went right back to doggy sleep. Jack looked at him with envy and crawled into bed. Then he reminded himself that he needed to follow up with the Kayal family about sending Max away for a while. One more thing to do.
Andie stirred on the other side of the mattress.
“What’s wrong, Jack?”
She rolled toward him, draped her arm across his chest and her leg atop his thigh. “It’s going to get better,” she said.
“I know.”
“You have to believe that.”
“Optimism is my middle name. Jack Optimism Sly-teck.”
“You’re better than Faith Corso. Don’t let her keep you up at night.”
“It’s not her,” said Jack. “I’m just having trouble understanding how the hell I got here.”
Andie propped herself up on her elbow, looking him in the eye. “How do you think you got here?”
“Two years ago Neil Goderich called me, said he was sick, and asked me to do him and the Freedom Institute a favor. So I cover a hearing. Neil dies eight weeks before trial, and the judge says I’m the only living attorney of record, the case is going to trial, so I’m Sydney Bennett’s lawyer. Now everybody wants to hang Sydney and her lawyer for buying off a juror, my old girlfriend is dead, and I have until Tuesday to figure out how to keep hope alive for two devastated parents whose daughter is in a coma.”
Andie just looked at him, one of her patented expressions that said everything without saying a word.
“What?” said Jack.
“That’s how you think you got here? Really?”
“Obviously that’s the
“No, that’s the Jack Swyteck version.”
“What do you mean by that?”
The left eyebrow arched, the telltale sign that she was about to unload exactly what was on her mind. Then she said it. “You got here because you love it.”
“I
“Take Rene out of this. That’s a horrible tragedy, and we’ll catch the guy who did it. But the Sydney Bennett trial, where all this began. You got in it because you love this stuff.”
“That’s so not true.”
“It makes you feel better about yourself to say you didn’t want this case, that you did Neil a favor and got
