Chapter Ten
HARPER
The twelfth floor conference room was an impressive space, meant to frighten and amaze in the same breath. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city with a view of the river curling through downtown. The carpet was expensive and high-end art hung along the walls. A long walnut table dominated the room, Italian leather chairs ringing it.
The room radiated power.
I arrived early, toting my tablet, leather portfolio, and binder full of notes. Dr. Rice was already there, seated at the head of the table, scrolling her phone.
She glanced up, then checked her watch. “Perfect timing. Take the far end by the projector. I’ll handle the introductions, then you’ll walk through your findings. We’ll field their questions after.”
No pleasantries. Just orders issued in that fake professional tone.
I walked to the far end and set my things down. After connecting my tablet to the display, I took my seat and tried to ignore the nervous flutter in my stomach.
Two attorneys from Morrison & Chase, the hospital’s legal counsel, arrived next, taking their seats at the table—Adrienne Westfield and Gerald Clark. The rumor mill said they billed nearly a thousand dollars an hour. They looked like they billed a thousand dollars an hour.
Dr. Webb entered, choosing a seat next to me. He was a great department chair, but an even better politician. He knew how to read a room, how to protect his interests. Or himself.
“Morning, Harper,” he said.
I nodded as everyone settled into an uneasy quiet.
Then the door opened again.
Diane Hart entered the room, and though we’d never met, I knew her immediately. A petite woman in her mid-fifties with a salt-and-pepper short natural cut, she maintained a mask of composure that couldn’t hide what her body revealed—eyes puffy and red-rimmed, shoulders slumped, hands pale as they clutched her bag. This was a woman who’d lost someone she loved, who was looking for answers.
Or she was looking for someone to blame.
My job, as I saw it, was to give her some peace. And to make sure she didn’t find those answers at Cole’s expense.
Behind Diane came Rachel Gaines, in a designer suit with a Hermès briefcase. I’d done my homework. Rachel specialized in medical malpractice with a formidable track record. Seventy-three percent settlement rate, with the remaining cases going to trial where she’d won more often than not. She was ruthless and expensive. She didn’t take cases she couldn’t win.
The fact that she was here meant she saw an opening.
“Good afternoon,” she said, her voice pitched to carry without being loud. “I’m Rachel Gaines, attorney for the Hart family.”
Introductions went around the table. When Rachel got to me, her handshake was firm, her piercing blue eyes giving me a quick assessment.
“Harper Sutton is our Director of Risk Management and Patient Advocacy,” said Dr. Rice. “She’ll be presenting the majority of the material today.”
“Ms. Sutton,” Rachel replied. “I’ve heard good things about your work.”
I doubted that was true, but I smiled anyway. “Thank you.”
Rachel guided Diane to a chair, then took the seat beside her. She pulled a legal pad and pen from her briefcase, then folded her hands and glanced at Dr. Rice.
The room felt smaller, the air thicker. My pulse thrummed in my ears.
Dr. Rice began. “We want to first express our deep sympathies to you and your family, Mrs. Hart. I can’t begin to imagine how hard this has been for you.” She didn’t even glance at Diane as she said it. “We’re committed to transparency as we work through the facts in this case, and we welcome any questions you may have today.”
She hit all the right notes without committing to anything. Or admitting anything.
Rachel listened with a neutral expression, her pen tapping against her legal pad. Diane stared at the table, jaw working like she was trying not to cry.
“Ms. Sutton has prepared a comprehensive review of Mr. Greene’s care,” Dr. Rice continued. “Harper, would you walk us through your findings?”
I stood, picked up the remote, and moved to a position where I could see both the screen and the table. “Thank you, Dr. Rice.”
