She Who Sees Through Darkness

Part Three

The drive to Long Island took them past the old mosque on Atlantic Avenue. Katrina's mind flew to her mother. She said she prayed the family power would pass me by. Why? Why would she do such a thing? Didn't she believe in me? Did she know what I'd become? The memory stung, even from a lifetime away.

"The weather's nice," Kyle said. "For October."

Katrina grunted.

Three news vans waited outside the Bellmonte Clinic. Katrina passed Kyle her attaché case and strode forward, a copy of the NDA in hand. A lawsuit became a bigger threat when people could see the contract they'd broken.

One journalist jumped when he saw Kyle. "Mr. Winters! How does it feel to have your mother's surgery public knowledge? Is the family embarrassed?"

"We are—" he started.

"No comment," Katrina said.

A woman thrust out a tape recorder. "Is it true she had breast cancer? Do you know how she paid? Was it with the donations from FuturePAC?"

"No comment," Katrina repeated, and grabbed the door handle. Locked.

The receptionist watched the proceedings from the other side of the glass. She held up the papers so he could see. "I'm Senator Winter's personal lawyer! Open up!"

He got up and walked into the back office. A second later, he returned and opened the door. She and Kyle darted inside.

"I'll get Dr. Fisher for you," said the receptionist.

The clinic's walls were soundproof. Katrina's mind relaxed, as it so rarely could in the city. Soft New Age music played. A fountain gurgled. Stay on edge. She toyed with the idea it had been laid out this way as a trap for sharp-witted lawyers. They won't trap me. I'm Senator Winters' attack dog.Dangerous, deadly, not easily thrown by wind chime music and some lights on a dimmer. It wasn't the career she'd dreamed of, but it was a career. I could say I'm fighting for something good. Fewer gun laws, low taxes. A nice increase to security spending to keep Indigo afloat.

Dr. Fisher turned out to be a short man with a greying beard and a warm smile: a classic TV grandfather, not some insidious threat to mankind. She handed him the papers.

"I'm so sorry about how all of this turned out," he said as they sat in the front room. He'd had the receptionist bring him and Kyle herbal tea; Katrina had declined. "I was out drinking with some friends last weekend and said some things I shouldn't about my clientele. Someone in the bar must have overheard. Mr. Winters, please convey my personal apologies to your mother."

Rarely in her line of work did Katrina ever encounter a poor liar; she'd forgotten how good it felt. Like some stranger in the bar overheard and remembered the precise dates of the surgery, the type of implant, how she'd told her colleagues she was going home that weekend to read books with inner-city children. The details were too specific; the leak had been deliberate

"I will," Kyle said.

"Apologies won't cover it," Katrina said. "You violated a contract when you leaked my client's medical information to the press. It's entirely within our rights to bring suit." Why leak, though? Asurgeon with Fisher's celebrity clientele pulled down millions per year. Whatever a reporter would pay for dirt on a politician's plastic surgery wasn't worth the lost revenue. A political statement? People did crazy things for causes they believed in.

She set him up."I didn't think Obamacare would destroy medical ethics that quickly."

"No," Fisher said. "Just my income."

Strike on that. "Looks like your income might be in line for another hit. You're liable for millions in damages. Not to mention what happens when your other clients realize you can't be trusted. You could lose everything, and it would serve you right—"

"Katrina!" Kyle glared at her, his curly brown hair tumbling into his eyes. She knew he meant well, but he'd skipped from job to job since he'd graduated college, insulated by his trust fund and family name—he didn't get that, sometimes, force was the answer.

She sighed. "Look, Dr. Fisher. I know you didn't leak the information. You're protecting an employee. There's fifteen of them." He'd posted a photo of the lot of them smiling on his clinic's website. "One of them leaked my client's medical records for cash. My client wants that employee fired, or we move forward with the lawsuit. Then all fifteen lose their jobs. And so do you."

"The employee in question is going through some tough times, Ms. Harris." He lowered his voice. "Drug issues. Her father passed away last year, and—"

"The offer stands. It is our only offer." Her guts had twisted themselves into little knots, but none of that turmoil came across in her voice. Perverse pride flickered in the back of her mind. You can show no weakness. You can do your job.

 "I don't get it," Kyle said. "How could someone—anyone—hurt another human being just to fuel an addiction? How could you sink that low?"

That time, Katrina flinched. Neither man noticed. 

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