“I like my life,” she said. “I’ve gained five pounds, have you noticed that? As much as I run and work out, I still gained five pounds. Most of it on the ass, by the way. I think it’s from having so much time to cook and eat. But I think it also might be from just being wound down a few notches. I’m so relaxed.”
“You don’t miss the adrenaline?” he asked.
“I get an adrenaline rush when it’s time for you to come home from the station....”
He leaned closer and kissed her cheek. “I like that.”
“I’m getting that commendation from the FBI,” she said. “The one Senior said he refused to celebrate. I wanted to come here one more time, look at where it happened, close the door. I thought by now I might be itching to get back to it, on to the next case. Hopefully the biggest case yet. But instead I have the feeling I’ve gone as far as I need to go in the Bureau. I might be ready to move on to the next chapter in my life. It’s so funny that it would be in Oregon. In a little dinky town in Oregon, close to where I could have lost my life.”
“Can we leave?” he asked.
“Why? Does it give you the creeps? Thinking about it?”
He shook his head. “You like your life now. That includes me. That makes me want to be alone with you, make out with you for a while. But not here where that other life was. I want to be alone with you. No ghosts. No edge. No needle.”
She smiled at him. “You asking me to step away from that job I had? The one that gives you scary pictures in your head?”
“I think I convinced myself that if that’s what it took to keep you happy, I could shut off my brain. I know you can do anything. Anything. No matter how difficult or scary.”
She laughed. “My mother used to say that capable was my middle name. She said I would do what I set my mind to, no matter how hard it was, and impossible tasks would just take me a little longer.”
“Yeah, that’s you. The idea that you’re ready to try a new kind of adrenaline, a new kind of restless, I could live with that. And about the five pounds? I hadn’t noticed, but I like it.”
“You love me,” she said, grinning at him.
“I’m not making out with you here, in front of the cop, in the shadow of a place where you risked everything. Come with me now. Let me drive us home. Let me find an abandoned farm road and pull over and show you. Anyone can say it. I want to show it.”
“Will you go back to D.C. with me when I get my commendation?”
“If you want me to, I will. I’m proud of you. No, it’s bigger than that. I admire what you can do, what you’re willing to do. You amaze me. I have a feeling you always will.”
She stood up and pulled on his hand. “You have a way with words. I’m just a glutton for praise. Take me out of here.”
* * *
Laine was making a blackberry pie when her cell phone rang. She wiped off her hands, looked at it, saw it was her brother and answered cheerily. “Hey, Pax.”
“Got a minute?” he asked. His voice sounded grave.
“Sure. What’s up? How is everyone?”
“We’re all good—headed for the last weeks of school before summer.” And he ran through a litany of what was happening with each female in his world.
“And how’s Senior?” she asked.
“Not completely sure,” Pax said. “There’s some kind of drama with him that I really don’t get. I heard through the grapevine that a couple of weeks ago, he left the O.R. after a patient had been anesthetized and didn’t come back. He didn’t come back all day. He didn’t answer his cell phone for hours. When he finally did answer a call from the head nurse in O.R., he said he’d had the phone turned off—he was playing golf.”
“Playing golf?” she asked. “Wait a minute...”
“You heard this right. He put a patient under for a knee replacement, excused himself, walked out of the O.R. and apparently, out of the hospital. The O.R. staff went looking for him and couldn’t find him. Ultimately, they woke the patient and said they were worried that something had happened to the surgeon, maybe he was suddenly ill or something. Since the surgery is elective, they discharged the patient and rescheduled him with Senior’s partner for a week later.”
“This can’t be right. There must be something else.”
Pax took a breath. “I’d talked to him a few times the past couple of weeks. Briefly, but we talked. He never mentioned this. Not once. I called his office and they said he was out and asked if I’d tried to reach him on his cell. I called him again, but this time I told him what I’d heard and he got angry—said it was a schedule conflict, that he wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place and had turned the case over to the resident, who was more than capable. He said he didn’t know why the resident didn’t finish the case. He blamed the resident.”
“Wow,” Laine said. “You think he got pissed about something and stormed out?”
“He must have got into it with someone. But that’s not like him, not really. I can name a dozen surgeons who pop off, swear at their O.R. staff, throw things...Senior actually has a good reputation in the O.R. Generally speaking, people like to work with him. When he’s at his worst he’s critical or snide. He rarely loses his temper....”
“Just with me,” she said.
“That’s an old problem, you and Senior,” Pax said. “That’s one of those things between the two of you and I’ve never understood. Let me be clear—I don’t understand his point of view....”
“God, do you think it finally happened? That it’s my fault and I put him completely over the edge?”
“You can’t take that on. No, I don’t think that. This is completely out of character. But he said someone filed a complaint and he’s not seeing patients for a couple of weeks. Totally weird.”
“What the hell... Is he going to get sued or something?”
“Don’t think so. The office seems to be running interference. Apparently he’s been a little unreliable the past year or so, but he’s seventy. He cut back on his patient load and surgery after Mom died. He’s been talking about retirement.”“God, if he retires, you’ll be stuck with him in your business all the time. Unless he gets a woman. Pax, could he have a woman? A girlfriend? He never did that before. He was pretty flaky after Mom died but...”
“No one mentioned a woman,” Pax said. “He blew me off. He said it was no big deal, that it was a scheduling mistake, that he wouldn’t have left the O.R. unless he was either finished or someone else was taking over the case.”
“Maybe he has some health issue he doesn’t want to talk about,” Laine said. “Maybe he’s on medication and it’s making him loopy—like blood pressure medicine. Or Viagra?”
Pax laughed in spite of himself.
“Okay. Okay. Talk to the housekeeper, Mrs. Mulligrew—she’s been around almost as long as we have. She probably knows more about him than we ever did. Trust me, the cleaning lady knows all—ask her to check in the medicine cabinet. Is he close to his nurse? It’s a fairly new nurse, right? Pax? Can I do anything?”
“No, that’s not why I called you. I only mentioned it to keep you up to speed. I’ll look into it, but I wanted to know how you are. I had a few minutes to talk and... I’ll talk to Mrs. Mulligrew, that’s good advice.”
“But you don’t have time for this,” she said. “You barely have time to talk to your own wife and kids.”
“Well, you’re on the outs with Senior, which doesn’t lend itself to open communication, even if you weren’t in Oregon. I’ll handle it.”
“I didn’t mean to abandon you,” she said.
“I don’t see it that way. I miss you, but you did the right thing. There are boundaries and I wouldn’t put up with that kind of constant criticism from anyone.”
“So you don’t want me to serve up my new number and talk to him?”
“No, you can just tell me how you are.”
“Well, I’m getting more interesting, as a matter of fact,” she said. “I knew I wanted a change of scenery and I had a lot of logical reasons for trying out Oregon for a while, but none of them made a lot of sense to me until a couple of days ago. I went back to the commune, to the scene of the crime. I suddenly realized that was something I had to do—not only to completely understand what happened, but to close the door on it. I didn’t even realize how heavy that baggage was.”
“How could you not?” he asked.
She laughed. “I’m disciplined. And I never take time off. Real time. I have vacations here and there, but I haven’t had any real space from the Bureau in years. I’ve been thinking about something, but you have to promise me you won’t mention it to Senior.”
“You know I’m good with your secrets....”
“I’ve been thinking ten years is enough. I think I’ve given the Bureau just about all I have to give them.” Complete silence answered her. “Pax?”
“Sorry, I think the call was dropped. I thought I heard you say you were done.”
“Funny,” she said.
“You’ll miss the excitement eventually. You’ve been eating stress three meals a day for over a decade.”
“I think I’m full,” she said with a laugh.
“I think it’s him,” Pax said.
“You’re being ridiculous. Would you stop your fellowship because you’re crazy about Genevieve?”
“That’s not what I mean. I didn’t mean you’d give up the Bureau because you’re into him. I think being with him has made you look at your life differently. It’s okay, Auntie Lainie. Life is very big, you know. And only one thing is required.”
“Oh, really? And what’s that?”
“That when you’re done with it, you don’t have regrets about your choices.”
“Don’t we all have regrets about some of our choices?”
“Not the really important ones.”
She was quiet for a long time. Finally she said, “Don’t make me think too hard. Let me be happy.”
“Absolutely. And in case you need permission, I’ll encourage you to stay happy.”
Thirteen
The busiest time of day at Lucky’s was from three to six when school let out and folks were getting home from work. That’s when they’d gas up for the next day or bring in a problem they had with the engine. That’s when Eric had the most hands on duty. After six things slowed way down. His employees who were not scheduled to work after six could start leaving then, including himself.
Justin came in at three. As usual, he got right to work. At three-twenty Eric answered the phone. “Lucky’s full service, Eric speaking.”
The young voice, clearly rattled, said, “Can I talk to Justin. It’s Danny, his brother.”
Eric called Justin to the phone and overheard Justin’s part of the conversation. “Did you try to sit her up? Call Doc Grant’s cell phone and 911. I’m on my way.” He hung up and saw Eric’s stunned expression. “I gotta go. My mom.” And he took off at a dead run.
Justin might be in shock, Eric thought. He watched the kid run out of the station and down the street. He ran like he had only seconds; it was a total sprint. Before the sight of him racing down the street faded, Al was standing in front of him, questions in his eyes.
“He got a call,” Eric said. “Something about his mom.”
And then as though Eric caught the same virus, he bolted for his Jeep, wrangling keys out of his pocket as he jogged. Behind him he heard Al shout, “Howie, pump gas! Shut it down if necessary. We got an emergency.” And then he was at the passenger door to the Jeep, opening it up and jumping inside even as Eric was backing out.