With the USB device in hand he left the library and sought out Santana Ramos, who was their psychologist-in-residence and also their media guru. Although Cal had had significant media experience running SuperiorCare Hospital Corporation’s PR department, where he worked prior to Nurses International, along with Petra Danderoff, he didn’t have inside network connections, but Santana did. She’d worked at CNN for almost five years. He found Santana in her room reading one of her beloved psychology journals, and without the gory details Veena had related, he told her that the first patient had been taken care of. He handed over the USB device for the patient’s history. He didn’t mention a word about the aggressive lovemaking.

“Call your friends at CNN,” Cal said. “It’s about ten a.m. there. Get the story to them, puff it up as a big inside scoop, saying the Indian government is trying to keep such stories under wraps. Tell them there will be more because there are now moles in place, and encourage them to get it on the air ASAP.”

“Perfect,” Santana said, hefting the USB device. “I think this is going to really work,” she added, as she stood.

“I do too,” Cal said. “Get right on it.”

“Consider it done.”

Confident she would be true to her word, Cal gave Santana an encouraging couple of taps on the shoulder. Leaving her room, he headed in the direction of the formal living room with full intention of getting back to the NFL game he’d been watching with Durell. But while he walked, his mind went back to his disturbing episode with Veena. Despite her being their best employee, he wondered if he should bring up with the others her obvious emotional instability. What gave him pause was that he knew Petra, who was against any dalliance between Cal or Durell and any of the nurses, would end up gloating and torture him with her invariable “I told you so” routine. On top of that, it was also downright embarrassing to have been used so flagrantly. Suddenly, Cal stopped. His mind had replayed Veena’s last comment that she “wanted once in her life to prove her father wrong.”

Why once? Cal questioned. He raised a knuckle to his mouth and absently chewed on it. “Oh my God!” he voiced suddenly. Turning from the direction of the formal living room, he raced toward the guest wing, where the nurses were housed. Arriving at Veena and Samira’s room, he pounded on the door as he yelled Veena’s name. When she didn’t answer immediately, he tried the door, all the while hoping that his fears would prove groundless. Unfortunately, they didn’t. He found Veena peacefully sprawled on her bed, her eyes closed. In her hand she clutched an empty plastic container of Ambien.

Grabbing Veena’s shoulders, Cal rudely sat her up. Her head lolled, but her eyes opened with heavy lids.

“God, Veena!” Cal shouted. “Why? Why did you do this?” He knew that if she died, the whole enterprise he had so carefully set up would be over.