Intense Injury

West Columbia sits across the Congaree River from Columbia, the capital of South Carolina. It has working class neighborhoods with light manufacturing plants and a variety of retail outlets scattered within the city limits. There is a great walking trail and park adjacent to the river, and the view of the capital building in downtown Columbia is picturesque. Located in West Columbia, two blocks from the Congaree River, is the First Response Medical Clinic. It is known by the public as a “Doc in the Box.”
Doctor Michael Groden was at his desk in the First Response Medical Clinic at the end of another busy day. He looked at the two envelopes in front of him. He was afraid to open them. They contained information that would change the course of his life. He had a good idea what was in the first envelope. That was bad enough. The second envelope made him break out in a cold sweat.
The buzzer on the intercom sounded and he picked up the phone. It was the office secretary. “We're leaving now, Doctor Groden. The front lights are out and the doors are locked. Your schedule for tomorrow is on my desk. Is there anything you need before we go?"
Doctor Groden despised all the people that worked in this small walk-in clinic. They meant nothing to him, and in fact, he hated being around them. They were not the well trained medical personnel he once worked with at the hospital. Ever since the severe beating he took, his life as a successful surgeon was over.
“I'm just finishing up some paper work. I’ll see you in the morning. Have a good night.”
He replaced the phone back in its cradle with his left hand. His right hand was severely damaged. He worked hard at getting some limited function back in that hand. It was a daily struggle. He could no longer perform surgery thanks to the beating he sustained that fateful night in the motel parking lot. He replayed that night over and over in his mind.
He had picked up Sheila, the young blonde nurse with the killer body at the emergency room entrance to Lexington Medical Center. Her 3 to 11 p.m. shift was over. His affair with Sheila had been going on for some time. He took her to the Quality Inn, just like all the others before her. He already had the room key so there was no time wasted checking in. He was married and knew what he was doing was wrong. He did not care. He went through women like most men go through razor blades.
It was two hours later when they left the room that he noticed the two flat tires on his sporty BMW. They were walking to his car, exhausted from the love making session. He lost his composure at what he found. He started to rant and rave. He thought about what an asshole he must have sounded like to Sheila. He was forced to put “Sheila the body” in a cab. He called Triple AAA for road service and waited by his car. Just after she left in the cab he was assaulted. Someone, hiding near his car, attacked him. The unknown assailant gave him a severe beating. His nose was broken along with his jaw and right eye socket. His face was now deformed and lopsided. The injury to his right hand, the hand he used for surgery, was devastating. The assailant deliberately crushed it.
He was unconscious until medical personal arrived. He was told that his pants and underwear were missing. His driver's license was placed between the cheeks of his ass. The attacker must have called 911. The doctor’s life from that point on was in ruins. The many affairs he had came to light. His wife filed for divorce and she won big. He was forced to settle with her attorney. He lost his cars and the big home on Lake Murray. He now had limited visitation with his son. It was a quick downward slide to disaster.
The one true love in his life was lost to him forever. He could no longer perform surgery. That's why he was working in this walk-in, low level medical clinic. He again looked at the two envelopes in front of him. One of the envelopes was from the Sanders Group, a private investigative agency in Columbia. The Group had purchased his file from the estate of his original investigator, Lou Delveccio. Delveccio was later assaulted and was now in a vegetative state with no hopes of recovery. His investigative practice was dissolved and the assets sold to pay for his medical upkeep. He was now lost to the world, living in an extended care facility. He would never recover from his injuries.

Doctor Groden was contacted by the Sanders Group. For a fee, the Group would send him the file compiled by Lou Delveccio. He paid them three thousand dollars for the file. That same file was now sitting in front of him.
Doctor Groden decided to open the other envelope first. He had a good idea what it contained. It was from the offices of Finman and Finkle, his former wife's divorce lawyers. He opened the envelope. She was seeking permission to move to Virginia with their son. Her new husband was being transferred by his employer. She wanted him to take the transfer and move with him. This is the same guy who plays catch with his son, rides bikes with his son and does all the things he cannot do because of his injuries. He could see the disdain in his son's eyes when he looks at his disfigured face. This request was just another defeat in the long line of defeats as a result of the beating he received.
He picked up the envelope from the Sanders Group. He opened it and read the final analysis of Lou Delveccio's investigation. The content took his breath away. Lou had discovered the person who assaulted him. The assailant had altered the course of his life forever. That person was Will Fetterman. Fetterman was an investigator with the South Carolina State Law Enforcement Division. How could that be possible?
Doctor Groden knew Will Fetterman. There was a shootout in front of this clinic a while back. Fetterman was involved. He had rendered first aid to Fetterman after the investigator was smashed in the back of his head. So, it was his attacker that he helped that day. Lou Delveccio was also involved in that same incident. Delveccio must have known at the time that Fetterman was the one that assaulted him in the parking lot of the Quality Inn years ago. Delveccio kept that information secret, closed out the case and never told him.
The report went on to say that Fetterman's best friend and mentor was John Strickland. He was a member of law enforcement and was instrumental in getting Fetterman started in the same career. They were very close and Fetterman was also very close to John's wife, Nancy. That was the same Nancy who Doctor Groden was having an affair with around that time. “So that's how it all fits,” thought Doctor Groden. Fetterman punished him for screwing his best friend's wife.
Lou Delveccio had told him that the investigation was a dead end. He could not find out the identity of his assailant. He said the case was closed. That was a lie. Doctor Groden sat back in his chair and tried to make sense of the information in front of him. His hand was shaking as he held the paper containing the long lost secret that drove his life. His so called life had turned to crap. What had he really accomplished so far? His career was in shambles and his standing in the medical profession was now a joke. His wife and child were lost to him forever.
What of Will Fetterman? What to do about the man who had set his life on a downward spiral? He had some time to think about that. He needed to set his priorities in order. A decision had to be made. The hate for his assailant still burned deep inside him and now he knew that person's name. He turned to the office computer. He started to learn as much as possible about Will Fetterman.