Dave nodded. “In other words, if your wife dies first, you’d be her primary beneficiary.”
“Correct,” Hal answered. “The only beneficiary. When I die, whatever’s left after that goes to her kids in equal shares, but you need to know Mimi’s money isn’t what I wanted, and it’s not what I want now. I’m hoping and praying that I’ll be able to get my wife back someday, alive and well.”
“Of course,” Dave said soothingly. “I understand.”
Sitting and listening, however, Ali wasn’t convinced Dave was buying Hal’s story, and his next question confirmed that opinion.
“When did you leave town again?” Dave asked.
Hal would have to have been dumb as a stump not to realize that he was already under suspicion, stated or not, but he answered readily enough, repeating much of what he had already told Sister Anselm about his being out of town. It seemed to Ali that Hal Cooper was being cooperative and more than forthcoming, but she also realized, as Dave did, that when a wealthy woman became a victim of foul play, most of the time a greedy husband turned out to be the culprit.
Sister Anselm emerged from room 814. Hal rose and hurried toward her. “Will she see me?”
“Yes,” the nun said with a nod. “She will, if now is a good time.”
Hal Cooper breathed a relieved sigh while Dave switched off the recorder.
“She’s awake at the moment,” Sister Anselm told him. “She’s due more pain meds very soon, so I’m afraid if this is Mimi, you won’t have much time.”
Nodding in agreement, Hal started for the door, but Sister Anselm stopped him before he could enter.
“I must warn you, Mr. Cooper,” the nun cautioned. “This woman has been severely injured. Even if she turns out to be your wife, she may not recognize you.”
Hal stopped abruptly. “Are you saying Mimi may not know who I am?”
Sister Anselm nodded. “That’s correct. She’s suffering from some degree of amnesia. She’s also on a ventilator due to smoke inhalation. If you try speaking to her, you need to know that she won’t be able to respond in anything other than yes or no answers. One blink for yes; two for no.”
“All right then-”
“One more thing,” Sister Anselm interrupted. “Have you ever been around a patient who has suffered major burn injuries?”
“No, but-”
“Do you play poker, Mr. Cooper?”
“Some,” he said, frowning at her. “Why would you ask that?”
“Because I’m hoping you’ll be able to put on a poker face. What you’ll be seeing in that room will be nothing short of shocking. If this is Mimi, she’s not the same woman you left behind a week ago. Up to now, I don’t think she’s given much thought as to how she looks, but it’s important that when you see her, you try to hold your reactions in check.”
Hal paled a little and swallowed hard. “Don’t worry about me,” he said. “I was in the military. No matter what, I’ll be fine.”
“Excellent,” Sister Anselm said briskly. “I’m glad to hear it. Come along.”
Once again the pain was swirling around her. It was too much. She couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t bear it. Where was the button? And where the hell was that nun? Why didn’t Sister Anselm come? Wasn’t she supposed to be here? Wasn’t that her job?
Suddenly she was aware of some other presence beside her bed. Not Sister Anselm. Not one of the nurses. Someone else was standing there next to her. Then a face appeared above hers-a man’s face, contorted with something that was half sob and half smile.
“Hello, there, honey bun,” he managed. His voice shook as he spoke. Tears sprang from his eyes. “How’s my Mimi girl?”
Suddenly, over the pain and somehow above it, she heard the words and recognized the gentle voice. She knew the grayish blue eyes peering down at her, and the strained features on his shockingly pale face.
Hal! she thought. He’s found me at last. He’s here!
Just as suddenly she felt overjoyed. She knew Hal’s name. She recognized his face. At least she remembered that much.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “That wasn’t a yes or no question. I can see how you are. You’re hurt, damn it. Do you know who I am?”
Yes! One blink. One very long blink.
“Do you know I love you?”
Another blink. Yes, I do know.
Then she heard Sister Anselm’s voice speaking to both of them as if from a great distance.
“You look a bit pale, Mr. Cooper. Are you sure you’re all right? If you need to sit down or go back outside…”
“No,” he answered. “I’m fine. I’ll stay.”
Hal didn’t sound fine at all but the soft cotton cloud was already descending around her.
Mimi. He called me Mimi! The name still seemed strange and foreign somehow, and she regarded it with no little astonishment. If Mimi really is my name, how could I have forgotten it?
She tried to fight the cloud, but Sister Anselm had already pushed the button. She wanted the pain to go away, but she didn’t want to fall asleep again.
I want to be here, she thought. I want to be here with Hal. I want to be able to see his face and hear his voice. I want to know that when I open my eyes, he’ll be here beside me. I want to know that he won’t go away and leave me again. I want him here. With me.
Even as she formed those thoughts, she was already drifting away from him, slipping away into some other space and time, but this time she was able to pick out a few details in the room that she hadn’t noticed before. The walls of the room were very white, and she was surprised to see that on the wall above his shoulder was a simple wooden cross.
Has that cross been hanging here the whole time? she wondered. If so, why didn’t I see it before?
Much closer at hand, she studied Hal’s face. He looked incredibly tired-as though he hadn’t slept for days. His cheek was rough-covered with a five o’clock shadow of stubble. That wasn’t at all like him. Then, as she watched, a solitary tear coursed down his cheek and dripped off his chin
He looks awful, she thought. Why is he crying? Doesn’t he know how glad I am to see him? Why doesn’t he ask me that? Am I glad?
Oh, yes. Please ask me. One blink for yes.
He leaned over her. He was wearing one of those paper gowns like the one Sister Anselm wore. It rustled when he moved.
“I’m right here,” he said. “I won’t leave. I promise.”
Those words were like a balm to her tortured soul. She could feel herself sliding steadily into unconsciousness, but this time no flames awaited. The air around her was soft and moist and cool. For a disorienting moment she couldn’t imagine where she was. She noticed there was grass underfoot and fog all around, wrapping them both in an eerie embrace. In the distance she heard the sound of a foghorn.
The foghorn. Of course. In San Francisco. How could she have forgotten that? Where they had stood on a hillside in front of the justice of the peace and said they would be together, loving and honoring each other, in sickness and health, until death do us part.
“Go to sleep, Mimi,” he whispered hoarsely. “I’ll be right here.”
The next blast of the foghorn was followed by another sound-the disturbing sound of a grown man weeping.
“Come, Mr. Cooper,” Sister Anselm said several minutes later. “You really shouldn’t stay here much longer. We should go now, and let her sleep. Leave me a number. If you’re not in the waiting room, I’ll call you when she’s waking up so you can be here when she does.”