Chapter 3 - The Signature That Shouldn't Exist
Damian stared at the authorization form.
"Tell me this is a mistake."
Paul didn't pretend to misunderstand.
"The signature resembles hers."
"That's not what I asked."
"No, boss. I don't think it's a mistake."
The form authorized a change in Beatrice's medication schedule.
On its face, it looked routine. A physician's name, a nursing supervisor's initials, and a handwritten signature acknowledging discussion of the treatment plan.
But the date was wrong.
Damian remembered that day precisely.
His mother had suffered a severe episode in the morning. By afternoon, she'd barely been responsive. He had sat beside her for twenty minutes while she stared through him.
"Who submitted it?"
"Vivian Shaw. Senior nursing supervisor."
"Who approved the medication change?"
"Dr. Whitmore's electronic authorization appears in the medical system. He's checking whether it corresponds to the actual order."
Damian looked at the document again.
"Bring Vivian to my office tomorrow morning."
Paul hesitated.
"There's something else."
He placed a second sheet on the desk.
A staffing report.
Every afternoon when Tessa arrived in Beatrice's room, nurses recorded routine tasks as completed by authorized staff.
Feeding.
Hygiene assistance.
Behavioral observation.
Comfort care.
Sometimes Tessa had performed the work herself.
Other times nobody had performed it at all.
Damian read the entries slowly.
"How long?"
"At least five weeks."
Damian's jaw tightened.
Tessa had only begun helping Beatrice recently.
That meant the irregularities had started before her.
He looked at Paul.
"Get an independent clinical review. I want facts, not guesses."
"And Vivian?"
"She keeps her access suspended until we understand what happened."
Paul nodded.
Damian glanced toward Monitor Four.
Beatrice slept beneath a cream-colored blanket.
For the first time, he wondered whether his mother's deterioration had been treated with carelessness as well as cruelty.
The next morning, Tessa arrived at the estate to find two unfamiliar nurses in the east wing.
Vivian Shaw was waiting beside the housekeeping office.
"Tessa."
She stopped.
"Good morning."
Vivian smiled.
It was the kind of smile that made Tessa want to check whether she'd done something wrong.
"I hear you've become quite close to Mr. Costa."
Tessa frowned.
"I've spoken to him twice."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Interesting."
Vivian stepped closer.
"People like you sometimes misunderstand attention from men like him."
Tessa stiffened.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"I'm talking about knowing your place."
Tessa looked toward the hallway.
"I need to get to work."
Vivian caught her wrist.
Unfortunately, it was the injured one.
Pain shot through her palm.
Tessa gasped.
"Let go."
Vivian released her.
"Careful. You wouldn't want another accident."
Tessa stared at her.
For a moment, fear gave way to something harder.
"Don't touch me again."
Vivian's smile vanished.
"You really think he cares about you?"
"I think you're blocking the hallway."
Tessa walked away before her shaking hands betrayed her.
Inside Room 104, Beatrice sat by the window.
She looked unusually alert.
"You're late," she said.
"Only by three minutes."
"Three minutes can ruin a wedding."
Tessa smiled.
"Good thing we're not getting married."
Beatrice laughed softly.
Then she noticed the bandage.
"What happened?"
"I had a disagreement with some broken glass."
"Did the glass win?"
"Not even close."
Beatrice looked pleased.
Tessa sat beside her.
But when she reached for the hairbrush, Beatrice grabbed her sleeve.
"Don't let her give me the blue one."
Tessa stopped.
"The blue what?"
"The blue one."
"Your medicine?"
Beatrice's eyes darted toward the door.
"She says it makes the screaming stop."
Tessa felt a chill.
"Who says that?"
Beatrice pressed her lips together.
"Don't tell Anthony."
Tessa knew Damian's father had been named Anthony.
He'd been dead for nearly twenty years.
She chose her words carefully.
"Is Anthony someone you're worried about?"
Beatrice suddenly looked confused.
"No."
Then she began to cry.
"I can't remember."
Tessa held her hand.
"That's okay."
But it didn't feel okay.
Later that afternoon, she found Dr. Whitmore in the medical suite.
"Can I ask you something about Beatrice?"
He looked up.
"Certainly."
"She mentioned a blue pill or tablet. She seemed afraid of it."
The doctor's expression sharpened.
"Did she describe it?"
"Not really."
"Did she say who gave it to her?"
Tessa hesitated.
"She mentioned someone, but she got confused."
Whitmore placed his pen down.
"Thank you for telling me."
"Is something wrong?"
"I need to check her medication administration records."
His calmness didn't reassure her.
By five, Damian had the doctor's preliminary findings.
The prescribed medications were legitimate, but several administration entries did not match the pharmacy's dispensing records or the independent inventory count.
There might be a paperwork explanation.
There might not.
Whitmore wanted laboratory testing, an external medication audit, and a formal examination of Beatrice's recent health.
Damian agreed to everything.
Then Paul delivered another piece of information.
Vivian Shaw had been hired through a staffing agency partly owned by a company called Bellwether Health Services.
Damian recognized the name.
It appeared in the accounting records of one of his business associates.
Salvatore Rinaldi.
A man who had been trying to buy Damian's waterfront properties for eighteen months.
Paul watched his reaction.
"You know him."
"Yes."
"Friend?"
Damian gave a humorless smile.
"No."
That evening, Tessa was preparing to leave when Vivian appeared near the employee exit.
"You talked to the doctor."
Tessa stopped.
"I asked him a question."
"About medication."
"Beatrice was upset."
Vivian took a step closer.
"You need to understand something. Medical care is complicated. Untrained employees can cause considerable harm by interfering."
"I'm not interfering."
"Then stop making accusations."
"I didn't accuse anybody."
Vivian leaned toward her.
"Your sister was sick, wasn't she?"
Tessa went still.
"Don't."
"Emily, I think her name was."
"Don't talk about my sister."
Vivian's voice dropped.
"You know what hospitals are like. Records get reviewed. Bills get questioned. People discover things."
Tessa felt the blood drain from her face.
"Are you threatening me?"
Vivian smiled.
"I'm giving you professional advice."
She walked away.
Tessa stood alone by the exit, trembling with anger.
Ten minutes later, Damian watched security footage of the entire confrontation.
There was no useful audio at that distance.
But he saw Vivian grasp Tessa's wrist.
He saw Tessa recoil.
And he saw Vivian lean close enough to frighten her.
Damian rose.
"Paul."
"Yes?"
"Get Miss Miller somewhere safe. Ask whether she's willing to tell us what happened."
Paul nodded.
"And Vivian?"
"Keep her away from my mother and every other vulnerable patient until the review is finished."
He stared at the paused image.
"Not a single person in this house is going to use fear to silence that woman."
Then his phone rang.
The caller was Salvatore Rinaldi.
"Damian," the older man said warmly. "I hear you've been having staffing problems."
May you like
Damian's expression went cold.
He hadn't told Salvatore anything.
