Mitch was on his way from the police department to his apart
ment. After his “meeting” with Madeline Cross, he had been
arrested, booked, and released from police custody. There were
two conditions: he needed to return for his arraignment Monday
morning, and he had to stay at least five hundred yards away
from any medical facility. That meant Metro was off-limits to
him for now. But that would soon change. He would be found
not guilty and would return to the position he had held at Metro
for years. Even better, he would go back to the way he practiced
medicine when he first started working at Metro, when things
ran smoothly. Back to when he and Sheldon got along well, and
people thought he could do no wrong. It wasn’t too late. He and
his wife could go to counseling. This time they’d make it work.
He would be around more for his kids. They still had such bright
futures ahead of them.
He snapped out of his daydream and brought himself back
to his current reality. What were his options? He could run.
He’d have to break all ties here and would constantly be looking
over his shoulder. Could he do that? The idea of living in new
places around the world sounded exciting, but the idea of being a
fugitive was not so appealing. Or he could stay and face the con
sequences. What about his father? He would have to face him,
and Mitch thought he might rather go to jail than face his father.
Nearing his apartment, he saw a handful of reporters on the
sidewalk in front of his building. He snuck around back, stepping
295
THE VERY BEST OF CARE
on broken glass and bumping into garbage cans in the dark alley
way. Once in his apartment, he grabbed a small duffel bag and
threw in a couple of shirts and pairs of underwear. He took all the
cash from his safe, as well as account numbers and passwords he
would need to access more money. He eyed the gun, locked in its
cabinet. Deciding to leave it behind, he picked up his passport
and spare pair of glasses and added them to his duffel. He left the
building the same way he went in.
Mitch spent the night in a hotel close to Midtown, one that
didn’t charge the ridiculous rates that Upper East Side hotels did.
He didn’t know how much money he was going to need in the
weeks ahead. He needed to call his wife and explain he wouldn’t
be home for a while. She would have already read about it in the
papers. He doubted she was losing any sleep over his fall from
grace.
The next morning, Mitch woke with renewed hope. He
made an appointment with one of his former bosses at WMI and
walked the distance to their Midtown office. He spent the bet
ter part of an hour pleading his case, even at one point asking
forgiveness. Could they please consider letting Mitch hire their
top lawyers? He could pay; he’d pay them well. He needed solid
representation if he was going to beat this rap. By the end of the
meeting, it was clear to Mitch that WMI was done with him.
They washed their hands of him, then wiped those hands on his
own shirttail before giving him a good kick in the ass out the
door. He was on his own. No way was he going to jail. It made
him sick to even think about being locked up alongside common
street thugs and drug dealers.
With no plan yet, he went into a barbershop. Thirty min
utes later, he emerged with a buzz cut, his beard shaved off, his
mustache intact, and wearing his spare pair of glasses with round
tortoiseshell frames.
A new look couldn’t hurt, especially if he decided to run.
296
JULIE HATCH
Mitch ducked into a coffee shop and ordered a cup of coffee. He
needed a plan. How had he managed to fall so low? He had seen
it coming. Or had he? Maybe he was so full of himself he couldn’t
fathom the idea of actually getting caught for what he was doing,
let alone arrested and charged. He blamed Sophie Young. If she
had never come into triage that day, he’d still be practicing med
icine and running Metro’s obstetrics. It was her fault that this had
happened to him. He pounded his fist on the table, making the
diner dishes rattle. He threw a twenty-dollar bill on the table and
barged out the door.
He called Sheldon’s cell, then headed to Rihanna’s, where
Sheldon was staying.
Sheldon greeted him at the door with a solid hug. “I like the
new look, bro. But why?”
Mitch shrugged.
“Don’t tell me you’re planning on leaving town,” said
Sheldon.
“Hey, Rihanna,” Mitch said as Rihanna joined Sheldon in
the doorway. “I hear congratulations are in order. I’m really happy
for you guys.” He stepped up and gave her a hug.
“Thanks, Mitch.”
“Could you give Sheldon and me a few minutes?”
“Sure.” She held Isabelle in her arms and went into the
kitchen.
Mitch and Sheldon moved into the nursery to talk.
