Chapter 4: Leave of Absence

"Far enough that it's none of your business," I said.

Rosamund looked at me for a long moment.

Then she nodded, once, like a woman noting a number for later, and walked down the hall to the elevator.

Posey shut the door and put her back against it.

"She knows," Posey said.

"She suspects."

"She suspects with a cashier's check in her purse and a lawyer on speed dial. Ione, that's the same thing."

I sat down on the couch beside the stack of scrubs and put my head between my knees.

My phone lit up on the cushion a dozen times before noon.

Two reporters, one cousin I had not heard from since a funeral, and a woman from the hospital's human resources office.

I picked up that last call.

"Ms. Dufresne, thank you. We'd like you to come in Monday at seven for a meeting."

"About what?"

"Your status," the woman said, and the line went careful and flat.

On Monday I put on my cleanest scrubs and my cardigan.

I drove to Candler-Savannah Memorial, where I had worked nights and weekends for six years.

I parked in my usual spot.

A security guard I had brought coffee to every Christmas looked at the floor when I swiped my badge.

The badge did not open the staff door.

I tried it twice.

Then the director of nursing came out to the corridor herself, holding a folder, and I knew before she spoke.

"Ione, I'm so sorry. This didn't come from me."

"What didn't?" I asked.

"You're on administrative leave pending review. It's paid for two weeks."

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