Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters.
"You mean to tell me that Carmen has known, all these years?” Michelle questioned, not believing what she’d just heard.
“I’m afraid so, Dr. Santos,” he said, a feeling of guilt swelling over him.
Michelle was pacing the floor now, and when she spoke, it was as if she were talking to someone else, someone who wasn’t in the room with them. Dr. Wesley got the impression that in her mind, Michelle had gone back in time, to her own personal hell.
It suddenly occurred to her. “The police!” she shouted. “Why did the police department let me go on believing that I took another person’s life? Surely they have a copy of the autopsy report.”
The pieces were beginning to fall into place for Dr. Wesley. As he remembered the night he performed Mick’s autopsy, the picture was finally forming in his mind.
“Oh dear,” he said, the disdain in his voice apparent.
"What?” Michelle asked, as she sat back down across the desk from him. “Do you remember something else?”
“Dr. Santos, let me explain something to you. I hadn’t been in Springfield very long when Mick’s body was brought in. I had no idea who he was or what his family was involved in. So when his mother and that bodyguard brought him into the morgue, I simply thought of him as another night’s work.”
“Wait a minute,” Michelle interrupted. “Carmen brought Mick’s body here?”
“Yes. And that bodyguard, I forget his name.”
“Dietz,” Michelle said under her breath.
Dr. Wesley recognized the name once Michelle had spoken it. “I knew that it was highly irregular for someone other than an EMT or paramedic to bring a body in, but evidently Mrs. Santos had been there when Mick shot himself. It struck me as a little morose, at first, that she would want to transport him here herself, but I just assumed she wanted to avoid all the media attention that calling an ambulance would’ve created.”
Michelle was incredulous. Not only had Carmen known all along, but she’d seen it happen. “Did she tell you that she saw him? Did she see him kill himself?”
“That’s what she told me,” Dr. Wesley answered.
Michelle was staring blankly across the desk, not looking at anything particular with her eyes, but seeing something clearly in her mind. Behind the hurt and disbelief in her eyes, was anger, an anger like Dr. Wesley had never seen. She was a woman who’s life had been toyed with, for years, and after witnessing the look in her eyes, he had no doubt that what she was suggesting was true.
“Dr. Santos, I came to Springfield six years ago from Los Angeles. I’d just lost my wife to cancer. We had no children and no other family, so my life became very lonely. After a few months, I knew I needed a fresh start. I had to get away. That’s how I ended up here. I had no idea who the Santos family was. When Mrs. Santos brought Mick in that night, I felt sorry for her. I was still grieving my wife, and I empathized with her pain. So I didn’t question her when she and the bodyguard brought him here themselves. People do strange things when they’re grieving – I knew that firsthand – so I just wanted to make this part of it as easy as I possibly could. As for the police, I have no idea why they kept the truth from you, or if they even knew the truth themselves. I could tell by the way Mrs. Santos talked that she didn’t want the police heavily involved, and seeing as how the autopsy report was altered in the computer system, I can’t say for certain that the police department ever saw the correct report.”
“Do you remember anything else, Dr. Wesley?” Michelle asked.
“I was still here the next morning when the people from the funeral home arrived to take his body. Mrs. Santos was with them, and she asked me if she could have a few moments alone with him. I thought I’d be doing her a favor, so I went out to get a cup of coffee.”
“You did her a favor alright,” Michelle said. “That’s probably when she changed the computer records.”
Dr. Wesley shook his head in disbelief. He could not believe he’d been taken advantage of so blatantly. Had it not been for his own grief, perhaps he would’ve noticed how strange Carmen’s actions were, but his pain had blinded him to it. He felt horrible that this young woman had been made to suffer all these years, believing she’d killed Mick Santos. He had been played for a fool, and he knew it.
“Dr. Santos,” Dr. Wesley said, “at some point after Mick’s death, I realized what exactly his family was involved in. But that only made Mrs. Santos’ actions make more sense to me. I thought that she’d gone to the trouble of bringing him in herself and seeing him to the funeral home because she wanted to keep it under wraps, so her son would not be remembered as weak or a coward. She told me that night that she wanted everyone to believe his death was accidental, and I could understand that. I promise you, I had no idea she’d lied. I’d never willingly be a party to something so devious.”
Michelle left the morgue, a Xerox copy of the correct autopsy report in hand, and called Frank Cooper. It took a little convincing, but he finally agreed to let her see the copy of Mick’s autopsy report. He was breaking a few rules, but he said he’d meet her at Company for lunch, and bring the report with him. Frank knew that if Michelle wanted to dredge up the memories of that awful night, she must have a really good reason.
Frank sat down across the table from Michelle. "I can’t imagine why you wanted to see this," he said as he handed her the file containing Mick’s autopsy report.
"I’ll explain everything, Frank. I promise," Michelle said as she began reading.
It was just as she expected. The police had been given a copy of the autopsy report from the hospital computer. Frank had never seen the original report, the one that concluded that Mick had taken his own life.
"Frank, tell me how you got this report," Michelle pleaded.
Frank was miffed, but relented. "Just like we always do, Michelle. Someone called the hospital and asked them to fax the report to us."
"Do you normally get the computer print out, like this one, or do you usually get the doctor’s original copy?"
Frank was beginning to get frustrated, but he saw in Michelle’s eyes how important these questions were. "As far as I know, they print the report from the computer and fax it directly to us. All the ones I’ve ever looked over have been computer generated."
Michelle dropped her head into her hands, and Frank could tell that what he’d just said had made a great impact on her.
"Michelle, I can tell something’s wrong. Tell me," he begged.
Michelle took a deep breath and began. "I’m sure you know about the shooting fatality last night."
"Yeah," Frank answered, knowing that Michelle had treated her. "Leah Salinger."
"I was in the ER when she came in, and she wasn’t carrying any identification. So, when she was sent down to the morgue, she was labeled ‘Jane Doe’. About an hour later, a few of her friends came in and identified her. I went down to the morgue myself, to make sure that she was properly identified."
Frank smiled as he thought of what a caring physician Michelle was. All of Springfield was proud of the woman that the little Bauer girl had become.
Michelle continued. "The doctor who was on call in the morgue had stepped out for a moment, so I labeled her files myself. While I was putting the file into the filing cabinet, I found this," she said, sliding Mick’s original autopsy report across the table to Frank.
Frank opened it and began to carefully read. Michelle saw the shock in his eyes, as he realized what he was reading. He compared it over and over again to the report he’d brought from the police station, as if he could somehow make sense out of it, but it was no use.
"I don’t understand this, Michelle," Frank said. "How can there be two totally conflicting reports?"
Michelle methodically told Frank about her conversation with Dr. Wesley this morning - how Carmen and Dietz had brought Mick’s body to the morgue themselves, and how Carmen had been alone in the morgue for several minutes the next morning. She let it sink in for a brief moment, before she spoke again.
"I know it seems unbelievable, but this is Carmen Santos we’re talking about," Michelle said. "You know as well as I do that she’ll do whatever it takes to make things happen her way."
"But why would she do this, Michelle? What possible reason could she have for blaming you for Mick’s death? She didn’t even know you then."
"I don’t know Frank, but I’ve learned to let nothing surprise me where Carmen is concerned."
Frank snapped back into police-mode and said to Michelle, "Well, once we get an official statement from Dr. Wesley, and a correct copy of the autopsy report, we’ll be able to start the process of having Mick’s death declared a suicide."
Michelle was sitting at her kitchen table by 2:00 p.m. She knew the time had come to tell Danny the truth. She dialed the number for his cell phone, and he picked up on the first ring.
"Danny Santos," he answered.
"Hi there," Michelle said, with as much enthusiasm as she could manage.
"Hi baby," Danny said, obviously glad to hear her voice. "Did you take care of things at the hospital?"
"Yes, I did," Michelle said. "Will you be home in time for dinner?"
"Things are running like clock work around here," Danny said. "I was actually thinking of heading home in about an hour."
"Great," Michelle said. "I’m anxious to see you."
Danny thought he detected a hint of something in her voice. "Is everything alright?"
"I just need to see you," Michelle said, holding back tears.
"I’m leaving right now," Danny said, as he grabbed his briefcase and headed out the door.
Michelle had a good long cry before Danny got home. She was hoping to rid herself of all the tears before she talked to him, but deep down, she knew it was no use. They had suffered incredible grief because of this lie, and recovering from it would be a process that would involve many tears, for both of them.
She changed into a pair of Danny’s pajama bottoms and a white tank top, and sat down on the sofa to try to settle down and collect her thoughts before she talked to Danny. She laid her head back and closed her eyes, and tried to remind herself that their love would see them through anything. She believed that with all her heart.
Danny opened the door and saw Michelle sitting on the couch, an extremely concerned expression on her face. He dropped his briefcase on the floor, threw his jacket across a chair, and said, "Michelle, tell me what’s wrong."
She looked at her husband, this man she loved with all her heart, and said, "Sit down with me, Danny, and I’ll tell you everything."
Danny sat down on the sofa next to Michelle, and as he gently touched her neck, emotion overwhelmed her. She knew she’d been foolish to believe that there would be no tears, but the pain and agony she felt, knowing how much this would hurt Danny, were more than she could stand. So she let the tears fall.
Michelle composed herself enough to speak, and then began trying to find the words to tell Danny that what they’d believed for years about Mick’s death had all been a lie, manufactured by his mother.
"Whatever it is, Michelle, just tell me," he said.
But there were no words. Somehow, she just could not bring herself to say, "You’re brother killed himself" or "Your mother lied to us". So, she stood up from the sofa, walked over to the kitchen table, and picked up the file containing Mick’s autopsy report.
She handed it to Danny as she sat back down on the couch. "I came across this last night in the morgue, and you need to see it." Sure, it wasn’t the most ethical thing to do, letting Danny take a peek at hospital records, but he was Mick’s brother, and what had been done to them wasn’t very ethical either.
Danny glanced down at the label, and realized what was inside the file. He looked at Michelle with questioning eyes. He did not want to look inside this file unless it was absolutely necessary. His eyes begged Michelle to let him off the hook, to tell him he didn’t have to open it, but in her eyes he found only pleading.
"Please, Danny," she said softly.
Danny opened the file and began reading.
He paced the floor as he read and re-read every page. He said nothing. He just paced, back and forth in their living room. Michelle sat motionless on the couch, not knowing how to read Danny’s reaction.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Danny sat back down on the couch, and calmly closed the file folder and laid it down. The cold exterior that Michelle always hated had descended on his face, and she couldn’t tell if he was hurt, angry, or shocked.
Danny stared out the front window of their home and softly said, "There must be some mistake. That report has to be wrong."
"What?" Michelle said, almost yelling. "You’d rather go on believing that I killed your brother?"
She knew the second the words came out of her mouth that she shouldn’t have said them. As bad as it was to believe that she killed Mick, it was just as bad, if not worse, to believe that Mick had killed himself.
Danny looked at Michelle and saw how hurt she was by his words, his seeming lack of trust in her. "I’m sorry," he said. "You know that’s not what I meant."
"I know," she answered. "And I’m sorry too."
He knew his wife well enough to know she didn’t just throw this report in front of him. She’d done her homework, and he wanted to hear about it.
"Tell me everything, Michelle," he said.
"I will, Danny, but before I do, please tell me one thing."
"Anything," he said, and he meant it.
"Whatever happens, you’ll still love me, and the way we are won’t change," she said, almost begging, through the tears that were now streaming down her face.
"Nothing could ever change how much I love you, Michelle. Nothing."
He held her gently for a moment, tenderly kissing away her tears, and then she told him the whole story.