Matt asked, “That was in the lawsuit?”

“No, Ryder pulled up the press reports on the accident.”

“Okay. Sorry, just trying to picture it.”

Michael nodded. “They were all in the same vehicle. Went straight to the morgue. Two victims died en route to Spokane. The remaining nine were brought into the emergency room and triage was performed by the head RN—Anne Banks.”

Matt closed his eyes so he could picture the scene. “I’m with you.”

“According to the lawsuit, a Zachary Hamilton claimed that Anne Banks prioritized patients who were less critical than his wife, costing his wife her life. She died in the emergency room. The hospital responded that triage is difficult in the best of circumstances, and the hospital will always prioritize patients they believe have the greatest chance of survival with medical attention. Lorna Hamilton had already lost a tremendous amount of blood, had been unresponsive in the ambulance, and suffered severe head trauma. An autopsy was performed that indicated that it would have been extremely unlikely that she would have survived her injuries even with immediate surgery, coupled with having a rare blood type.”

“And Anne Banks made that decision.”

“Yes. And she, and the hospital, were sued.” Michael paused, and Matt opened his eyes.

Something in his tone had Matt asking, “What?”

“I’ve been in situations like Banks. Where you have a dozen bodies, and you have to make split-second decisions. I wasn’t a medic, but in the field you have to make the call. Who gets out first. Who has the greatest chance of survival—but won’t without medical attention. It’s the worst feeling. Makes you feel like you’re playing God, and you feel wholly inadequate.”

Michael was internalizing—which was good and bad. Good because he could put himself in Anne Banks’s shoes, and in the shoes of a grieving family. Bad because, being a soldier who had some PTSD issues when he got out, Matt hoped the memories wouldn’t cause him sleepless nights.

Matt prompted, “And the court dismissed?”

“Said there was no merit to the lawsuit.”

“Hamilton. We need to find out everything we can about him.”

“We know at the time he lived in Liberty Lake, on Vine Street. No longer there. He was in prison for a year—drunk driving, third time’s a charm. Ryder is trying to find out what happened to him after his release.”

“This is good.” Matt glanced at Kara. She was sitting in a chair, eyes closed, and he wondered if she was sleeping. “Send his name to Maddox and Knolls. They might recognize it. Liberty Lake is the connection—his old stomping grounds.”

“Yes, sir.”

Matt saw Kara’s mouth curve up, just slightly.

Matt asked, “Is that all we have?”

Michael shook his head. “There are a couple other potentials, but that was the only lawsuit that had a man who lost his wife within a year of Marston firing an employee of the high school.”

“And where did Hamilton work?”

“We don’t have that information yet.”