Richard L. Mabry - Diagnosis Death

Diagnosis Death

Prescription for Trouble Series

Medical Suspense with Heart

Nashville, Tennessee

Diagnosis Death

Copyright 2011 by Richard L. Mabry, M.D.

ISBN-13: 978-1-4267-1021-6

Published by Abingdon Press, P.O. Box 801, Nashville, TN 37202

www.abingdonpress.com

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form,
stored in any retrieval system, posted on any website, or transmitted in any form or by any meansdigital, electronic, scanning, photocopy, recording, or otherwisewithout written permission from the publisher, except for brief quotations in printed reviews and articles.

The persons and events portrayed in this work of fiction are the creations of the author, and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

The verses from Psalm 139 on page 207 are from the New American Standard Bible ,
Copyright 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995
by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission.

The verses on page 229 are from The Message. Copyright 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, 2000, 2001, 2002. Used by permission of NavPress Publishing Group.

Published in association with WordServe Literary Group, Ltd., 10152 S. Knoll Circle, Highlands Ranch, CO 80130

Cover design by Anderson Design Group, Nashville, TN

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Mabry, Richard L.

Diagnosis death / Richard L. Mabry.

p. cm. (Prescription for trouble ; 3)

"Medical suspense with heart"T.p.

ISBN 978-1-4267-1021-6 (pbk. : alk. paper)

1. Women physiciansFiction. I. Title.

PS3613.A2D53 2011

813'.6dc22

2010039624

Printed in the United States of America

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 / 16 15 14 13 12 11

To that special group of
health care workers who perform their healing
labors as a true ministry. It was an honor to work
alongside you for over four decades.

This is the third book in the Prescription for Trouble series, all made possible through the efforts of my wonderful agent, Rachelle Gardner; my great editor, Barbara Scott; and the dedicated team at Abingdon Press.

My wife, Kay Mabry, has functioned as my first reader since I began writing eight years ago. She's gentle with her criticism, effusive with her praise, understanding of my times of self-doubt, and supportive throughout the whole process. Besides that, she laughs at my jokes and has taught me to believe in myself.

My childrenAllen, Brian, and Annhave always believed their dad could do anything he set his mind to. I haven't always bought into that premise, but it's constantly motivated me to keep trying. I'm proud of them.

Kay and I have the good fortune to be members of Stonebriar Community Church and to hear our pastor, Chuck Swindoll, preach on a regular basis. I've also been blessed by the Bible teachings of Dr. Steve Farrar and Dr. James Allman (to whom I'm indebted for the inspiring words I've used in the closing scene). Thanks to you all for helping deepen our Christian walk.

I continue to be grateful for the support I've received from the writing community, especially from authors in the genre of Christian fiction and romantic medical suspense. I appreciate everything you've done to help me.

Finally, I'd like to thank my readers. Your purchases of these books, your good reviews, your recommendations to your friends, are so very important to any author. I hope to run into you again somewhere down the road.

S he stood by his bedside and waited for him to die.

Outside the room, the machines and monitors of the ICU hummed and beeped, doctors and nurses went about their business, and the hospital smellequal parts antiseptic and despairhung heavy in the air.

With one decisive move she flipped the switch of the respirator and stilled the machine's rhythmic chuffing. In the silence that followed, she imagined she could hear his heartbeat fade away.

She kissed him and exhaled what passed for a prayer, her lips barely moving as she asked for peace and forgivenessfor him and for her.

She stood for a moment with her head bowed, contemplating the enormity of her action. Then she pocketed the empty syringe from the bedside table and tiptoed out of the room.

D R. Elena Gardner approached her apartment as she had every night for six monthsfilled with emptiness and dread. The feeling grew with each step, and by the time she put the key in the door, fear enveloped her like a shroud. Some nights it was all she could do to put her foot over the threshold. This was one of those nights.

She turned the key and pushed open the door. The dark shadows reached out at her like a boogeyman from her childhood. The utter stillness magnified every sound in the old apartment, turning creaking boards into the footsteps of an unknown enemy.

She flipped on the light and watched the shadows turn into familiar surroundings. Even though the thermostat was set at a comfortable temperature, she shivered a bit.

Elena dropped her backpack by the door and collapsed into the one comfortable chair in the living room. The TV remote was in its usual place on the table beside her. She punched the set into life, paying no attention to what was on. Didn't matter. Just something to drown out the silence, something to remind her that there was life outside these four walls. That somewhere there were people who could laugh and joke and have fun. Somewhere.

She sighed and picked up the phone. She should call David.

He'd been firm about it. "Call me anytime, but especially when you get home at night. That's the toughest time. It's when the memories butt heads with the 'what-ifs.' "

She dialed the number. Maybe she should put him on her speed dial. But that implied there wouldn't be an end to this soon. And she wasn't ready to think about that.

"Hey, Elena." Although Dr. David Merritta resident physician in one of the busiest obstetrics programs in the Southwestwas surely as tired as she was, his voice sounded fresh, almost cheery. "What's up?"

"Oh, you know. Just needed to hear a friendly voice."

"Glad to oblige. How was your day?"

That was one of the things Elena missed most. Now that Mark was gone, there was no one to share her day. "Not too bad until I was about to check out. The EMTs brought in a thirty-two-year-old woman, comatose from a massive intracranial hemorrhage. The neurosurgeons rushed her to surgery, but"

She knew David could guess the rest. He cleared his throat. "Did that... was it tough to take?"

Elena started to make some remark about it not bothering her. But that wasn't true. And she knew David wanted the truth. "Yeah. Not while it was happening. Then I was pretty much on automatic pilot. But afterward, I almost had a meltdown."

"It'll get better."

"I hope so."

"Any more phone calls?"

Elena felt goose bumps pop up on her arms. "Not yet. But it's Tuesday, so I expect one later tonight."

"Why don't you call the police?"

"What, and tell them that for four weeks I've answered the phone every Tuesday at midnight and heard a woman sobbing, then a hang-up? That's not a police matter."

"And you"

"I know what they'll ask. Caller ID? 'Anonymous.' Star 69? 'Subscriber has blocked this service.' Then they'll tell me to change my number. Well, this one's unlisted, but that doesn't seem to matter. How much trouble would it be for whoever's calling to get the new one?"