Cassi walked over to the desk. It was an imposing piece of furniture, which she knew had belonged to Thomas’s grandfather. As she reached out and touched the cool surface, she had the same naughty sensation she’d felt as a child, snooping in her parents’ bedroom. Shrugging her shoulders, she pulled out the center drawer. A plastic desk organizer was filled to overflowing with rubber bands, paper clips, and other odds and ends. She pulled the drawer out to its limit and carefully lifted the layers of papers toward the back. Nothing out of the ordinary. Satisfied, Cassi was about to push it closed when she thought she heard a door slam. Peering through the window, she could see the lights in Patricia’s apartment over the garage. She hadn’t heard a car, but that wasn’t too surprising. With the storm windows down, sounds from the outside did not penetrate the house too easily. She could see the garage door was closed. Had she closed it? She couldn’t remember. A moment later there were footsteps in the hall. Panic knotted her stomach. Obviously Thomas had come home. If he caught her in his study after the episode with Patricia, he’d be furious. She looked around frantically, wondering if she could slip out through the spare room. But before she could move, the door opened.
It was Patricia. She was as surprised to find Cassi as Cassi her. The two women stared at each other in disbelief.
“What are you doing in here?” Patricia said finally.
“I was about to ask you the same question,” returned Cassi, standing behind the desk.
“I saw the light go on in here. Naturally, I thought Thomas had come home after all. As his mother I think I’m entitled to see him.”
Cassi unconsciously nodded as if she agreed. Actually it had been a constant source of irritation for her that Patricia had a key to the house and felt no compunction about entering whenever she wanted.
“That’s my excuse,” said Patricia. “What’s yours?”
Cassi knew she should have simply replied that it was her home and she could go into any room she pleased. But she didn’t. Her sense of guilt made it impossible.
“I suppose I can guess,” said Patricia disdainfully, “even though it upsets me. Snooping through his possessions like this when he’s in the hospital saving lives! What kind of a wife are you?”
Patricia’s question hung in the air like static electricity. Cassi didn’t try to answer. She’d begun to wonder herself what kind of a wife she was.
“I think you should leave this room at once,” rasped Patricia.
Cassi didn’t object. She walked past her mother-in-law with her head bowed. Patricia followed her out and closed the door. Without looking back, Cassi descended the stairs and headed for the kitchen. She heard the front door close and presumed Patricia had left. The woman would tell Thomas that Cassi had been in his study. It was inevitable.
She looked at the meal Harriet had left on the stove with distaste, but she knew that after taking her normal insulin dose she required a certain amount of calories. Forcing down the warmed-over food, she made up her mind to return to the study and finish her search. Having already been caught, she no longer had anything to fear except what she’d find.
There was still the chance Thomas could appear, but Cassi was prepared to listen for the sounds of the Porsche. In order to keep from having to face Patricia again, Cassi pulled the heavy drapes over the windows, and she used a flashlight, like a real burglar. She went directly to the desk and tried the side drawers, starting at the top and working her way down. She didn’t have far to go. In the back of the second drawer inside a stationery box, Cassi found a collection of plastic pill containers. Some were empty, but most were full. All of them had the same prescribing M.D., a Dr. Allan Baxter. The dates were all within the past three months.
In addition to the Dexedrine, there were two other types of pills, and Cassi carefully took one of each. She replaced the vials in the stationery box and closed the drawer. Switching off the flashlight, she reopened the curtains and walked quickly back to her room. When she got out her Physician’s Desk Reference and compared the pills to the identification pictures, she realized that her suspicions were right. “Oh God!” she said out loud. “Dexedrine for exhaustion is one thing. Percodan and Talwin are something else entirely.”
For the second time that day Cassi burst into tears. This time she did not even try to check her sobs. She flung herself down on the bed and wept uncontrollably.
Despite his interlude with Laura, Thomas decided to keep his planned visit with Doris. He was disappointed enough that the man in cardiac cath had suffered a second heart attack and couldn’t be scheduled for surgery. He certainly wasn’t going to ruin the night further by the long drive home.
Doris buzzed him in the minute he touched the bell. When he reached the second floor, he found her peering coyly around the door. When she opened it, he realized why she’d stayed inside. She was dressed in a diaphanous, short black camisole that laced up the front and snapped between her legs. It covered about the same area as a one-piece bathing suit.
“Glenlivet with Perrier,” said Doris, handing Thomas a tumbler and pressing herself up against him before he could get his coat off.
Thomas took the drink in one hand and put the other on Doris’s backside. The only light in the room came from a Scandinavian-style oil lamp that painted the room with warm, golden tones. The coffee table was also laid for dinner with an uncorked bottle of wine standing nearby.
When Doris retreated to the kitchen, Thomas called the hospital page operator. He gave her Doris’s number along with the admonition it was for the thoracic resident-on-call only. She was not to give it to anyone else, and if there were a question she should call herself.
Six
“I gotta be moving,” said Clark Reardon. My woman told me not to be late.” Clark had pulled a straight-back metal chair over to Jeoffry Washington’s bed.
“Well, it was great to see you, man,” said Jeoffry. “Thanks for coming in. I really appreciate it.”
“No problem,” said Clark, standing up. He raised his hand, and when Jeoffry put his out, he slapped it affectionately.
“So when you breaking outta here?” asked Clark.
“Pretty soon. Maybe in a couple days. I’m not sure. I still got this IV.” Jeoffry raised his left arm, indicating the coiled plastic tubing. “I had some inflammation in my legs right after the operation. At least that’s what Dr. Sherman told me, so they started giving me antibiotics. It was a little rough for a couple days, but it’s better now. The best thing that happened to me was when they took away the cardiac monitor. I tell you, the beep from that mother drove me crazy.”
“How long you been in here so far?”
“Nine days.”
“That ain’t bad.”
“Not from this end. But I tell you, I was pretty scared in the beginning. But I had no choice. They told me I was going to die if I didn’t get operated on. So what can you do?”
“Nothing! I’ll see you tomorrow night and I’ll bring in those books you wanted. Anything else?”
“I’d love a little grass.”
“Come on, man.”
“I’m just joking.”
Clark turned and waved at the door before disappearing down the hall.
Jeoffry surveyed his room. He was glad that he was leaving soon. The other bed in the semiprivate room was empty. His roommate had been discharged that day and no new patient had arrived. Jeoffry was sorry to be alone, especially now that Clark had left and he had nothing to look forward to. As far as Jeoffry was concerned, a hospital was not a place to be alone. There were too many frightening machines and procedures to face without support.
Jeoffry switched on the miniature TV set connected to the head of the bed. Toward the end of the second situation comedy, Miss DeVries, a spunky LPN, entered. Pretending she had some delectable treat for Jeoffry, she insisted he close his eyes and open his mouth. As he did so, he had a pretty good idea of what was coming, and he was right. It was a thermometer.