She gestured toward Adrienne and Gerald, whose expressions had fallen.
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” said Cole, stretching a hand to Dr. Rice and forcing her to a tenuous, stiff handshake. “Dr. Vaughn. This gentleman is Vincent Cross, of Cross & Associates.”
“Good morning, Dr. Rice.” Vincent’s voice boomed, was rich and smooth with just enough arrogant tinge to make the moment interesting. He did not offer to shake her hand. “I’ll be representing Dr. Vaughn in this matter.”
“This isn’t a deposition,” Adrienne said. “Today is simply an opportunity for Mrs. Hart to ask Dr. Vaughn questions directly.”
“Then you won’t mind if I sit in.” The leather sighed as Vincent sat and set his briefcase on the table.
Dr. Rice and Adrienne exchanged a look. Gerald cleared his throat.
Cole sat beside Vincent, his spine straight, his hands folded on the table. His eyes found mine for half a second. I saw the tension in his jaw, the way his shoulders were locked tight.
Rachel assessed Vincent, her gaze sweeping over him the way lawyers do when they’re sizing up the opposition. “Is there a reason I wasn’t informed that Dr. Vaughn would have representation? Has this meeting morphed into a legal proceeding?”
Vincent’s tone stayed pleasant, but I heard the steel underneath. “The hospital has provided representation for itself. Mrs. Hart has an attorney as well. Likewise, Dr. Vaughn saw fit to engage me to protect his personal interests. Shall we begin? I’m sure we’re all busy.”
Rachel moved to her chair. Dr. Rice sat as well and folded her hands on the table.
“As Ms. Sutton outlined in last week’s meeting, we’re here to address any remaining questions Mrs. Hart has regarding hergrandfather’s care. Dr. Vaughn is present to provide clarity on the medical decisions made that day.”
“Before we begin,” Vincent said, his voice slicing through Dr. Rice’s prepared statement like a scalpel through skin. “I’d like clarification. Are we here to review the facts of Mr. Greene’s care? Or are we here because Ridgeway Medical Center has already decided to position my client as responsible for an outcome that was, by all medical standards, unavoidable?”
The air conditioning kicked on with a low hum.
Finally, Rachel leaned forward. “No one has accused Dr. Vaughn of anything.”
“Then this should be a very short meeting,” he said, with a wider smile.
Vincent opened his briefcase and pulled out a stack of documents. Paper rustled as he set them on the table.
“The facts, which have already been provided to you, are clear. Dr. Vaughn and his team followed every protocol, performed an emergency procedure in an attempt to save his life, and exhausted every option available. The outcome was tragic, but it was not the result of negligence or deviation from RMC standard of care.”
“And that’s fine, but the crux of the complaint was that the family was not appropriately contacted before surgery,” Rachel argued.
“The family was not reachable.” Vincent didn’t miss a beat. “Emergency medical protocols allow for implied consent when a patient is incapacitated and family is unavailable. Dr. Vaughn operated under those protocols. To suggest he should have waited is to suggest he should have allowed Mr. Greene to expire without intervention.”
Rachel’s jaw tightened. I watched a muscle jump near her temple and her face begin to flush. “One phone call? One message? That’s not reasonable effort.”
“It’s documented effort.”
Vincent slid a copy of the call log across the table. “Aside from Brookside notifying Mrs. Hart that her loved one had been transported to the hospital, the ER attempted contact. A message was left. Dr. Vaughn was informed that family could not be reached. He made the decision to proceed, which was well within policy. If you’d like to argue that was the wrong decision, I’d be happy to put that argument in front of a jury and let them decide.”
Diane pressed both hands to her face. The sounds of her ragged, uneven breathing filled the spaces between words.
“Mrs. Hart,” I said quietly. “Would you like?—”
“My grandfather died alone.” Diane’s words came out halting and broken. Tears streamed down her face. “I should have been there. Someone that loved him should have been there.”
“Mrs. Hart, this is an emotional time.” Vincent’s tone changed, the steel giving way to something softer. “Losing someone you love is painful. Feeling like you didn’t get to say goodbye makes it worse. But this hospital did attempt to reach you, and Dr. Vaughn did everything possible to save your grandfather’s life.”
Rachel’s pen started tapping again, click-click-click against her legal pad. “Be that as it may, the hospital has a responsibility?—”
“The hospital has a responsibility to provide competent medical care. Which it did.” Vincent sat back. “What the hospital does not have is the right to manufacture a scapegoat to make the family feel better about an outcome no one could control.”
“Mr. Cross.” Dr. Rice held out a hand as if to halt conversation. “No one is suggesting?—”
“With respect, Dr. Rice,” Vincent cut in, “that’s exactly what’s being suggested.” He paused, letting his eyes sweep the room. “Otherwise, we wouldn’t be here. This case cleared your internalpost mortem review. Dr. Vaughn’s surgical notes are thorough and demonstrate adherence to protocol. The ER documentation shows appropriate triage and escalation. There is no basis for a claim of negligence, and everyone in this room knows it.”
