Chapter 7: Pruitt Makes His Move
The voice on the phone was not a nurse.
It was not the after-hours coordinator Charlotte usually reached when she called late.
It was Gerald Pruitt.
"Ms.
Hartley," he said.
His voice was smooth, unhurried.
"I hope I'm not disturbing you."
Charlotte put the call on speaker without being asked.
I leaned in slightly.
"Mr.
Pruitt," she said.
"It's late for an administrative call."
"It is.
I apologize for the hour.
I wanted to reach you personally because I understand you've been in contact with some former associates of our facility.
People who left under difficult circumstances." A brief pause.
"I want to make sure you have accurate information about Maplewood's programs and Danny's current care plan."
"Danny's care plan hasn't changed in eight months," Charlotte said.
"Despite my requests."
"That's actually what I'm calling about.
I've been reviewing Danny's file this week, and I think there may be room to discuss a placement review.
Given his length of stay and his recent progress."
Charlotte's eyes met mine across the table.
"That's interesting timing," she said.
"We try to be responsive to family concerns." Another pause, slightly longer.
"I also want to be transparent with you, Ms.
Hartley.
The individuals you may have spoken to — I don't know exactly who, of course — but there are some former staff members who left this facility with grievances, and some families who have misunderstood our fee structures in the past.
I would hate for any of that to create confusion or distress for you at a time when your focus should be on Danny."
Charlotte's jaw was set.
She said nothing.
"I'd love to schedule a sit-down meeting," Pruitt continued.
"Just you and me.
We can talk through Danny's options, look at what the priority tier would actually mean for his day-to-day experience.
No pressure.
Just a conversation."
"I'll think about it," Charlotte said.
"Of course.
Take your time." His voice warmed slightly, like a door being held open.
"I only want what's best for Danny.
I think you know that."
"I'll be in touch," Charlotte said, and ended the call.
She set the phone down on the table.
"He knows," she said.
"He suspects," I said.
"He doesn't know what we have yet.
That call was a probe.
He wanted to hear how you'd react."
"He offered a placement review out of nowhere.
He's never done that in eight months."
"Because he's scared." I picked up the envelope Diane had left.
"This is why.
He knows someone is talking.
He doesn't know how much documentation exists.
So he's trying to get you alone in a room before you can do anything with it."
Charlotte stared at the phone.
"What if I went?" she said.
I looked at her.
"Not to negotiate," she said quickly.
"To get him talking.
If he thinks I'm considering his offer — if he thinks I'm isolated and uncertain — he might say something he shouldn't."
"Charlotte —"
"I'm not going in blind.
I'd record it." She looked at me steadily.
"Is that legal here?"
"One-party consent state.
Yes."
"Then let me go.
Let me sit across from him and let him think he's winning." Her voice was quiet but there was no uncertainty in it.
"He's been doing this for years because no one ever made him feel like he had anything to lose.
Let me be the person who changes that."
I thought about it for a long moment.
"You'd need to be careful about what you say.
You can't make any promises or representations that could be used against us later."
"I know."
"And if he offers you money directly — any kind of payment —"
"I'll let him finish the sentence," she said.
"And I'll make sure the recorder catches every word."
I held her gaze.
"Okay," I said.
She picked up her phone and typed out a reply to Pruitt's number.
Tomorrow at ten works.
See you then.
His response came in under a minute.
Looking forward to it, Ms.
Hartley.
I think you'll find we have more in common than you might expect.
Charlotte set the phone face-down on the table.
May you like
"He thinks this is already over," she said.
"Let him," I said.
