Page 54 of Booked for Kidnapping

“I am not the asshole,” the older man replied, and he grinned at me. “She means Dr. Avers. She was not shy about informing him he was an asshole, as he kept proposing we amputate her foot. While I didn’t get to finish the work I helped to start, I admired how you got up and left the hospital when you determined you did not appreciate what your medical staff discussed. For the record, I was always on your side, and you made it clear you wanted to keep your foot, so that was the only acceptable option.”

“My main podiatrist was a woman,” I said, frowning as I couldn’t remember the man being one of the vocal leaders of the medical staff.

“Yes, she was. I was called in as a consultant and supporting staff for her. Your case was above her skill level, but with my help, it was within her abilities. Had I been leading the team, I would have evicted Dr. Avers altogether.”

“I really appreciate that.”

“Now, what questions do you have about your foot? I am here, and if I can’t answer, I know who can.”

I vaguely remembered liking the man, although my feelings towards him hadn’t prevented me from bailing and running back to New York. As it would drive Dr. Mansfield halfway to crazy, I pointed at my right foot and asked, “So, you won’t have to amputate it?”

Yvon tossed his head back and howled his laughter. “Your foot is safe from us evil feet thieves.”

“I like this one, Dr. Mansfield. He actually has a sense of humor.”

“Much like yours, delightfully twisted and oddly morbid.” She sighed. “Mr. Hampton confirmed they did one operation for all of the work on her foot, starting with the infection removal and ending with bone mending and the pins and rods currently installed.”

Yvon whistled. “You’re one tough woman, Janette. That level of pain can be so intense it can kill somebody. The first time that sort of operation was tried, we lost a patient on a table due to pain-induced cardiac arrest. The current death rate for similar operations is twenty-five percent; unless we can induce a full medical coma, which is dangerous in its own right, most sedatives can’t handle the amount of pain we put the patients through—and there are consequences to using those sedatives. If you were partially conscious for the procedure, your doctor wanted you to get through it alive. He—or she—would have been able to monitor your risks of cardiac arrest and deal with a heart attack in progress. It’s much harder to prevent or treat cardiac arrest in a comatose patient when we’re working that sort of procedure. By the time we notice the preliminary symptoms, it’s often too late. This specific procedure is notorious for trouble, so it’s limited to medical schools with the world’s best leading the operations so student doctors can learn through observation—and treat potential cardiac arrest. Mr. Hampton, was there any evidence of a cardiac incident during the procedure?”

“How would I tell?” Bradley’s father asked, and deep lines formed along his brow, a match for his scowl.

“A very sudden departure from consciousness, loss of breath, dizziness, and discomfort in the chest.”

After a moment of concentration, he shook his head. “I’m not detecting anything like that. There also doesn’t seem to be any concern among the doctors. One person seems to have been given the job of attending to Janette. During some of the worst parts, there is a sense of someone holding and comforting her. Janette had no negative reactions to this.”

“Illusionist,” Yvon stated, nodding his head. “The illusionist would have manipulated her perceptions and inserted the most comforting individual possible to reduce trauma. We use illusionists when possible during operations in case the patient comes out of sedation unexpectedly, particularly on touchy procedures. This buys time for sedation to be used again so the operation can continue. In her case, that wouldn’t have been possible, so the illusionist would have manipulated her perceptions to insert the most comforting individual they could from their knowledge of her. Usually a loved one, a parent, or close friend—or someone trusted. It’s possible the illusionist formed a rapport with her prior to the operation and then used magic to erase the memories.”

“Is that possible?” I asked.

“An adept illusionist can do it, yes. But the strength of illusionist required is on par with the bone mender who’d done the work. They are few and far between. I can think of only two or three in the United States skilled enough to work the operating rooms.”

“Would any of them involve themselves in an operation like this?” Dr. Mansfield asked.

“Absolutely. All of them would, especially if they thought they could get away with it. Young Janette here has a very good reputation among those in the medical field. Long before you called me for consulting work today, I had indulged in creating a treatment plan and was debating how to implement it. That she went on to save numerous lives at great cost to herself? Yes, if given an opportunity, I could easily see many a brilliant mind performing a very questionable operation like this.”

Well, that seriously changed how I viewed doctors. “How long would that operation have taken?”

Yvon nodded at Bradley’s father. “He can tell you exactly how long it took, if my understanding of his abilities is correct.”

“I can. There’s a clock attached to the machines they had her connected to; it has the date and time on it.”

“Wait, you can tell that?” I blurted.

“I’m not the only one who fibs a little regarding my abilities. It’s bad enough the government knows what they do about what I can do. But yes, I can. Your surgery took place in early September, and it lasted twenty-seven hours. There must have been several teams doing the work.”

“Yes, that makes sense,” Yvon confirmed. “Removing the infection and identifying the ruined bone would have taken some five to eight hours, maybe longer depending on the severity. The next phase would be the preparation for the next part, call it an hour while someone made certain to control her bleeding and keep a close eye on her foot for complications while preparing the bone from her other foot. After that, it would have been a long haul for the bone mender. Twenty minutes minimum per bone to do so safely, and there were a lot of bones mended. There are twenty-six bones in the foot, and those bones work with the help of over a hundred tiny muscles, tendons, and ligaments. A second mender would have had to begin restorative work at the same time the bones were being worked on to make certain the foot would recover. It’s quite complicated. I would have expected thirty to forty hours using several shifts of surgeons for the amount of work needed when I’d first seen you. Twenty-seven hours is quite the feat.”

“I see you’re a fan of the medical team,” I said, raising a brow at Yvon’s enthusiasm.

“Oh, yes. It’s masterful work. Everything about your operative and post-operative care has been a masterpiece. Your foot has become a work of art. It will cause you pain in the future, and while you wouldn’t want to run races on it, you could if determined enough. You’re determined enough, so please spare my peace of mind and don’t run races. Start with walking, at a leisurely pace.”

“I think I can manage that.”

“But who?” Bradley’s father asked.

“That’s the question of the hour, isn’t it?” Yvon stared at my foot before shrugging. “At least I can perhaps provide the why, in that many in my field have expressed interest in taking on her treatments. Good deeds deserve reward, and she has the lives of many on her hands—and not in death, but in health. But that still leaves the who. Most curious, indeed. But rest easy tonight, Janette. Your foot is a masterpiece, and while you will limp on bad days, you will have plenty of good days.”

I could live with that, but I would still hunt for the truth.