“Yeah, why don’t you come party with us?”


The deep cold made her legs feel like lead but the idea of being caught out in the middle of the dark park by the four men put new life in her steps. She tried ignoring them and continuing on her way but men continued to follow her. “Come’on bitch, let Danny have some fun,” the closest one said, causing Rose’s heart to start pounding painfully in her chest. She had to get out of there and had to get out of there now. She began running, more like stumbling, through the snow and toward the bright lights of Madison Avenue.




Veronica breezed through the lights of the sleeping city, mindless of the way the Porsche slipped around in the snow. It wasn’t like anyone else was around at the late hour. She passed Lark Street without meaning to and cursed loudly. Now she’d have to go all the way past the park to catch the next cross street. Seeing no cars in front of her, she punched the pedal of her Porsche 911 and threw it into second gear. She was going far too fast for the snow covered street, especially since it didn’t look like the plows had been through any time recently, but she didn’t care. It wasn’t like she had to stop anytime soon and she was still under the posted limit, although definitely faster than the road conditions dictated. The next cross street was at least a half mile away. Suddenly a flash of blue and gold appeared in front of her, a figure darting out from between parked cars. Veronica jammed both feet on the brakes and jerked the steering wheel hard to the left but there was just no time. The snow gave her no traction and an eerie silence filled the air as she watched the low front of the Porsche strike the pedestrian and throw the helpless person up onto the windshield. The red sports car finally came to a halt several car lengths later and the broken body slumped off the hood onto the snow covered ground. For several seconds Veronica could do nothing but grip the steering wheel and stare at the spider web pattern that now made up her windshield while her heart pounded mercilessly. The reality of what had happened finally sunk in and with shaking hands she opened the door. She looked around quickly for any witnesses but at 12:30 on a Tuesday night everyone was in bed. She never saw the gang of thugs that had been chasing the victim turn around and slink back into the darkness of the park.


Blood was already beginning to pool on the ground beneath the body, although the extreme cold made the flow far less than it would normally have been. Veronica knelt down beside the crumpled form and with her gloved hand rolled the victim over. She gasped when she saw the battered face of a young woman. “Oh my god.” A flash of green just on the edge of her vision caused the raven haired woman to turn and look up. A traffic light. She glanced over at the cross street. New Scotland Avenue. She was only three blocks from the Medical Center. She quickly opened the passenger door and pulled the lever that reclined the seat. Veronica knew that the best thing was to try and immobilize the woman but there wasn’t any way she could do that at the moment and the puddle of blood was steadily growing. The hospital was too close to think about calling for an ambulance and wasting precious minutes. The decision made, Veronica slipped her arms under the unconscious woman’s shoulders and dragged her to the car. Less than a minute later they were speeding toward the Medical Center.


As she pulled into the drive marked “Emergency” a thought occurred to the corporate magnate. Not only had she been speeding and hit this woman but if a cop chose to do a breathalyzer there was no way that she would pass, not after all the wine she had consumed at Sam’s just a short while earlier. She jerked the car to the right at the last moment and pulled into the one of the surgeon’s parking slots. In the dark with only the back of the Porsche showing, no one would question it being parked there. She exited the car and walked toward the emergency entrance, trying desperately to think of what to do. The answer came to her when she spotted a gurney sitting just inside the glass doors. Veronica grabbed the stretcher and wheeled it out to her car. Hours spent in her private gym made it easy for her to lift the unconscious woman up onto the gurney. During the transfer, a small sports wallet fell out of the victim’s back pocket and landed on the snow covered ground. Veronica picked it up, tucked it inside her leather jacket, and ran as fast as she could while pushing the stretcher toward the emergency entrance.


“I need some help here! This woman’s been hit by a car!” she yelled as soon as the inner doors slid open. The charge nurse and the night intern raced over to begin triage. “We’ve got multiple injuries, check the board and see who’s on call for the OR.” the blond doctor said. A clerk immediately left to page the surgeon and to call for assistance while the nurse began taking the unconscious woman’s blood pressure. Standing back out of the way, Veronica watched on in horror as the doctor cut the young woman’s jacket and clothes off her body. Everything seemed to be covered with blood, especially the pants. An older doctor arrived on the scene, his hair mussed from sleep.


“What do we have?”


“Hit and run. Compound breaks of both tibias and fibulas, Doctor Maise,” the young doctor explained. “Probable internal injuries as well. Whoever hit her was going fast.”


“Have them prep OR 2. Type and cross match six units of blood and page Doctor’s Gannon and Marks to assist.” The rest of the conversation was lost on Veronica as she put her hands in her pockets and felt the cold wallet tucked inside. She opened the thin wallet, surprised at the lack of contents. There were no pictures, no credit cards, not even a driver’s license. A blue library card identified the victim as Rose Grayson and gave her address as Morris Street. A social security card and a Money Slasher check cashing card were the only other pieces of identification. She opened the Velcro compartment inside and found two bus tokens, one house key, and twelve cents. There was nothing else. Well, at least they’d have a name and address to go on, she thought as she walked over to the charge nurse’s desk. As she approached, she heard the two woman behind the desk talking.


“Looks like an indigent to me. Put her down as Jane Doe…let’s see…” She shuffled papers around on the desktop. “…number 77. Once she’s out of danger they’ll transport her over to Memorial anyway.”


“Excuse me,” Veronica interrupted. “She’s been hit by a car and badly injured. Why would they move her to another hospital?”


“Look Miss,” the charge nurse, whose badge simply read Mrs. Garrison, said. “This hospital is mandated by the State of New York to provide all that come here in urgent need medical care. Once they’re no longer in danger of dying from their injuries, we can transport them to another hospital that hasn’t met their requirement for indigents.”


“Requirement for indigents?”


“We are required to provide full care for a certain number of indigents at no cost each year. We’ve met that requirement. It’s obvious she has no money and most likely no insurance. They’re taking her into surgery now, surgery that she’ll probably never pay for. This hospital doesn’t operate on good intentions alone. If she has no ability to pay, she gets transported over to Memorial. They haven’t met their obligation this year.”


The dark haired woman understood the implication…no insurance, no staying at the best Medical Center in the region. “But she has insurance,” Veronica blurted, her decision made. “I mean…I know her. She’s an employee of mine.”


“She has insurance?” Nurse Garrison asked incredulously. “Miss, it’s twenty below out there with the wind chill. She’s running around in a spring jacket that looks like it was taken from the garbage can. Insurance fraud is a crime in New York. Where’s her insurance card?”


“No, I’m telling you she has insurance. Look,” Veronica reached inside her jacket and pulled out her small business card case. “I’m Veronica Cartwright, president and CEO of Cartwright Corporation.” She quickly looked down at the library card in her hand. “Miss Grayson just started working for us. There hasn’t been time for them to issue her card but I swear she does have insurance through my company. Now is there a form or something that I have to sign to authorize this?”


Now realizing that she may have made a mistake, the charge nurse backpedaled. She reached over and grabbed one of several clipboards already set up with a non-removable pen and multipart forms. “Fill out sections one through ten to the best of your ability. Do you know how to contact her next of kin?”


“Uh, no…I’m sure that information is at the office somewhere. I can call with it tomorrow.”


“Fine.” The nurse turned to address her coworker. “Change the chart for Jane Doe 77. Her name is…” she turned back to the tall woman questioningly.


“Rose Grayson.”


“Rose Grayson,” Nurse Garrison repeated, as if the younger nurse didn’t hear it the first time.


Veronica walked away from the charge desk and slumped down in one of the orange vinyl chairs to fill out what little information she did know and settle in for the long wait.



* * *

By the third hour of surgery Veronica became very worried. There had been no word on the young woman she had hit and the lack of knowledge set the executive’s nerves on edge. What if she died? Veronica shuddered at the thought. Then another thought came to mind. Daylight would arrive soon and the obvious damage to the front of her car would be noticeable. Noticeable meant questions, questions she didn’t want to answer. She walked over to the pay phone. The woman who always granted favors now needed one. Veronica dialed the familiar number. On the third ring, a sleep filled male voice answered. “You’d better have a fucking good reason for waking me up.”