Between bites and sips they caught up on the decade or so since high school. Gerry told her about joining the PBI after graduating U.V.A with a criminology degree but never mentioned marriage or where Martha came from. It took all her will to keep from asking. He nodded encouragingly as Gina took her turn and skimmed through her education, but his head snapped up when she mentioned Duncan Lathram.
"You work for Lathram? The celebrity surgeon? " "He's not the celebrity, just his patients."
"Yeah, " Gerry said sourly. "And you've got to be a celebrity to be treated by him." Gin wondered at the sudden note of hostility in his voice.
"Every day he treats people no one's ever heard of." Gerry leaned forward and pointed to the hairline scars on his face. "He wouldn't take me."
"How . . . ? " "M.V.A." He glanced quickly at Martha.
"Tell you about it sometime." Motor vehicle accident. So that explained the scars.
"Whoever worked on you did a nice job."
"Dr. Hernandez is tops. But I requested Lathram first and he wouldn't even give me a consultation.
" '"Duncan takes only certain kinds of cases."
"The insurance company was footing the bill, so it wasn't a question of money. Why wouldn't he help me? " She was tempted to say, Because he wonnt operate on anyone who needs him, just people who want him. just vanity surgery, the more famous and narcissistic, the better. No trauma repair. But how could Gin explain what she herself didn't understand? Better not to get into it.
"I don't know, Gerry. He's got some strange ideas about who he takes as patients."
"And some of his patients have had some bad luck lately."
"You mean like Congressman Allard? " Gerry stiffened in his seat. "That guy who fell this morning? On the Capitol steps? He was a Lathram patient too? ' "What do you mean, too? " Gerry didn't answer immediately. His eyes took on a faraway look. What was he thinking?
And how did the FBI know, and why should they care, who was and wasn't Duncan's patient?
His mind racing, Gerry stared past Gin at the chicken faiitas poster on the window behind her.
Allard was a Duncan Lathram patient too. That made three . . . three Lathram patients with fatal or near-fatal accidents in the past month or so. What could, ?
werryf He shook himself free of speculation and focused on Gin again.
God, he was drawn to her. All that glossy black hair and deep brown, almost-black eyes, and he loved the way her mouth curved up at the corners when she smiled. He'd never noticed any of that when she was an overweight kid. But then, he'd never looked at her much when she was Pasta.
That had to be part of it. They had a history. He'd known her when, back in the Bad Old Days when she was a homely . chubette, and again, now, when she was sleek and turning heads.
But he hadn't known her then, not really, and he certainly didn't know her now. But he sensed things about her, strength and confidence surging within her, and that was as sexy as anything external.
She'd remade herself, decided how she wanted to be, who she wanted to be, and become that person.
And now that person was waiting for an answer.
He said, "Two powerful legislators have died in the past month.
Congressman Lane and Senator Schulz. Both were, " "Patients of Duncan Lathram. I know. But they were accidents.
Weren't they? " "That's what they appear to be so far."
"How did you know they were both Duncan's patients? " He narrowed his eyes and said, "Vee haf ways . . . " while his mind ranged ahead, calculating how much he should and could tell her.
" I'm serious, Gerry." She seemed upset. Why? Lathram was just her boss. Or was there more to it?
"It just happened to come up in the investigations."
"I heard about the investigations. Why? " '"Two political bigwigs?
Violent deaths within a few weeks of each other? The Bureau investigates. If there is a connection, we want to be the firsr to know. ' '"Oh, " she said, leaning back. "I guess that makes sense."
"Allard's accident wasn't fatal, but he won't be doing much legislating for a while."
"What do you mean? " '"Apparently he's been babbling nonsense since he came to in the hospital."
"Really? ' she said, her brow furrowing. "Must be some sort of postconcussion syndrome. Poor guy."
"Must be." Three disabling mishaps, two permanently so, and all patients of Duncan I'm sorry - but - the - doctor - doesn't handle ^ posttrauma Lathram.
Gerry wondered what other links the three men might have to the good doctor.
""Scuse me, Dad." Gerry looked around as Martha nudged him with her hip.
"Where do you think you're going, miss? ' "Need another Mountain Dew.
" "Think you can handle it yourself? " She rolled her eyes.
"Da-deee!
" "Okay, but only half a cup." He slid off the bench to let her out.
"Got enough money? " Another roll of the baby blues. "Free refills, Dad! " "Right. I knew that." He sat down again but never let her out of his sight as she made her way to the drink dispenser. She knew exactly what to do, and half of her fun in coming here was holding the cup under the ice dispenser and letting the cubes clunk into it, then filling it from the Mountain Dew spigot. So he let her do it on her own. But Gerry was watching her and everybody around her. Anybody got the least bit frisky with Martha and he'd been on them like a pit bull on a T-bone.
"She's a doli, " Gin said.
That she is, " he replied, never taking his eyes off her.
'"You never mentioned her mother." He glanced at Gin's intent expression, then back toward the drink dispenser.
"Remember Karen Shannick? The tall blond? " "The cheerleader?
Sure.
" '"Well, she went to U.V.A too. We got serious in college and were married right after. Martha came along about a year later."
"You still together? " He pointed to the scars on his face and spoke quickly to get the story out before Martha came back.
- "These are from a windshield. A rainy night on 50. Truck jackknifed in front of us. I was driving, Karen was in the passenger seat, Martha in her car seat behind me. We slid right into the truck. Martha was fine, my face was hamburger, and Karen . . . Karen didn't make it. " Out of the corner of his eye he saw Gin's hand dart to her mouth.
"Oh, my God! I'm so sorry! " Not as sorry as I was.
"The really sad part is, Martha doesn't remember her mother. We have pictures, but that's all Karen is to Martha. I wish . . . " His throat constricted. Karen had been the careful one, and she'd been wearing her seat belt, Gerry hadn't bothered with his that night. Yet Karen was dead and Gerry was alive.
Wasn't fair.
He saw them sliding across the wet pavement, swerving out of control, his hands hauling on the steering wheel as he rammed the brakes to the floor, watching the rear corner of the truck loom in the passenger window before It smashed through the glass into Karen. . . .
Not fair.
He'd been an emotional basket case afterward, and his cutup face only added to the misery. Martha hadn't recognized him, screamed whenever she saw him. He looked like the Frankenstein monster. And Dr. Duncan Lathram had refused to treat him . . .
He blinked and saw Martha hurrying back to him with her brimming plastic cup of Mountain Dew clutched between her little hands. She'd never finish it all, but so what? She'd gone and filled it herself.