Chapter 13 - The Frame Job
Z
The trauma bay at Northwestern Memorial Hospital was a war zone of sterile white lights, shouting doctors, and the frantic, rhythmic chirping of cardiac monitors.
"Gunshot wound to the left anterior chest!" Dr. Patel yelled, cutting through Lucas’s soaked wool suit with trauma shears. "Systolic blood pressure falling! 70 over 40! Prepare for an emergency thoracotomy!"
"He's in hemorrhagic shock!" I shouted, standing right beside the gurney, my clothes soaked with rainwater and Lucas’s blood. "The bullet entered near the left subclavian artery! His heart rate is 140 and thready! We need four units of O-negative blood immediately!"
"Bailey, step back!" a nurse commanded, trying to push me toward the doors.
"I'm his health supervisor!" I screamed, resisting her push. "I know his surgical history! He has a newly placed stent in his left anterior descending artery! If his systemic pressure drops any lower, the stent will clot!"
Dr. Patel looked up from the chest wound, her eyes wide with fierce intensity. "She's right! Get the blood bags hanging now! Bailey, stay at his head and keep him conscious!"
I grabbed Lucas’s hand. His skin was gray, clammy, and freezing cold. His eyes flickered open weakly, struggling to focus on my face through the haze of agonizing pain.
"Bailey..." he whispered, his voice barely an audible rasp.
"Don't you dare close your eyes, Lucas!" I commanded, tears streaming down my face as my trembling hands gripped his. "You survived the elevator! You survived Julian! You are not dying on a stainless-steel table tonight!"
"Claire..." he choked out. "Protect... Claire..."
"Claire is in the waiting room! She's safe! Evan is safe!" I squeezed his hand with all my strength. "Now fight! Breathe, damn it, breathe!"
The surgical team wheeled the gurney at a full sprint into Operating Room 4. The heavy double doors slammed shut in my face, leaving me standing alone in the sterile, fluorescent hallway, covered from head to toe in blood.
I leaned against the wall, my knees giving out as I slid down to the cold tiled floor, burying my face in my hands.
Ten minutes later, heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway. I looked up, expecting to see Claire or Evan.
Instead, four uniformed Chicago Police officers accompanied by two suits from the State’s Attorney’s office marched toward me. Standing right behind them, wearing a immaculate white coat and holding a clip board, was a man I recognized instantly: Dr. Richard Vance—Carter and Victoria’s brother, the disgraced physician from the 2011 clinical trial scandal.
"Bailey Carter?" the lead police detective asked grimly.
I slowly stood up, wiping my blood-stained hands on my pants. "Yes?"
"I am Detective Ramirez, Chicago Homicide Division," he stated, unholstering a pair of steel handcuffs. "You are under arrest for attempted murder, conspiracy to commit corporate extortion, and unauthorized practice of medicine resulting in severe bodily harm."
I froze, dumbfounded. "What? Are you insane? I just brought him in! I saved his life!"
Dr. Richard Vance stepped forward, his face a chilling portrait of professional regret and deceptive authority. "Detective, as the senior attending physician on call tonight, I must report that Ms. Carter was caught in the ambulance attempting to administer an unauthorized lethal dose of concentrated potassium chloride to Mr. Bennett under the guise of emergency care."
"That is a complete, outright lie!" I screamed, my voice echoing off the hospital walls. "I didn't touch an IV bag! Dr. Patel was with me the entire time!"
"Dr. Patel was managing the airway in the front," Dr. Vance said smoothly, handing a signed affidavit to the detective. "We found this vial of potassium in Ms. Carter’s personal medical satchel. Furthermore, we have a statement from Julian Bennett’s legal counsel indicating that Ms. Carter staged the entire pier setup to eliminate both Lucas Bennett and Carter Vance after her extortion plan fell apart."
"He shot Lucas!" I roared, pointing a trembling finger at Vance. "Carter Vance shot him on the pier! Thomas saw it! The security team saw it!"
"Carter Vance’s body was pulled from Lake Michigan twenty minutes ago," Detective Ramirez said coldly, stepping forward and grabbing my wrists, snapping the cold steel cuffs around my wrists with a loud CLICK. "He is dead, Ms. Carter. And your security chief, Thomas, is currently in critical condition with a gunshot wound to the head. There are no other witnesses."
"No!" I fought against the handcuffs as they dragged me backward down the hallway. "Evan! Call my brother! Call Claire Bennett!"
"Claire Bennett has already been informed of your arrest," Dr. Vance said with a sickening, triumphant smile as he watched me being dragged away. "And given the mountain of physical evidence against you, I highly doubt she will be accepting your phone calls."
They marched me through the hospital lobby, past flashing news cameras and screaming reporters who had gathered like vultures outside the emergency entrance.
“BAILEY! DID YOU SHOOT LUCAS BENNETT?”
“WAS THE ELEVATOR SAVINGS JUST A SETUP?”
“HOW MUCH MONEY DID YOU DEMAND FROM THE FAMILY?”
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The bright camera flashes blinded me as police shoved me into the back seat of a squad car. The heavy metal door slammed shut, locking me in absolute darkness.
I leaned my head against the cold glass window as the police cruiser pulled away into the rainy night. I had saved Lucas Bennett's heart twice, only to be framed as the monster who tried to stop it forever.
