“You’re thinking about buying a house based on a dream. Explain the logic in that,” Trixie snapped.
Unable to control herself, Jane burst into tears. “I feel like I’m in the tall grass again and I can’t see through it or over it. This is a test where Mike is concerned. It’s important to me to know and believe that he . . . I want him to care enough about his patient to go to the hospital. I want him to worry about him. I don’t want to see him turn it off and go play tennis and not think about it again until something comes up that he has to deal with it. Mike’s patient is real. Flesh and blood. Just the way Betty was. Somebody has to care enough to want to get personally involved. Fifty minutes one day a week doesn’t cut it. At the moment, he’s pissed at me. That’s okay, because now he has to think. At least I think that’s what he’s going to do. It’s all mixed up in my head, Trixie.”
Trixie’s facial expression softened. “You’ll figure it out, Janie. You always do. Take some time. Think things through, then make decisions. Are we going to sit here all morning or are you going to go in and make an offer on the house?”
“I’m going in. I know you don’t understand, but this is something I need to do, Trixie. Not want to do, need to do.”
“Then do it already!”
16
The legal offices of Lewellen, Chakis and Dwight were so shabby and dingy Jane didn’t want to sit down. From the expression on Trixie’s face, she felt the same way. Mike, oblivious to his surroundings, was busy talking to Tom Bradley, who seemed animated about something. She wondered if he knew she was dating Mike. Probably not. She looked around at the tiny, sparsely furnished waiting room—two chairs, a worn carpet and a round piecrust table. Magazines with tattered covers, dating back several months, were in a plastic box nailed to the wall. Everything looked dusty, even the wooden shutters on the window and the olive green swag draperies with a cobweb in the middle. She had the feeling that if she sneezed, the room would fly apart. How old were the station’s attorneys? Ancient by the look of things. Obviously, they weren’t worried about billable hours.
Tom Bradley walked over to her. She politely introduced him to Trixie, who held out her hand, and said, “Charmed to meet you, Mr. Bradley. Jane has spoken about you so often. Is there a delay or is something wrong?”
“Neither, actually. I already looked over the contracts, and one of the secretaries is typing in some changes.” He turned to Jane. “I had to acquiesce to the wishes of the sponsors by telling them you would cohost twice a month instead of once. Just for the first four months. After that it’s once a month for six months. From there on in, if Dr. Sorenson does well, it will be his show. You can guest anytime you want. There’s still pending interest in you doing a television show in New Orleans. If you change your mind, call me.”
“I will, Tom. Thank you.”
“Dr. Sorenson said he’s okay with everything in the contract. All we have to do is sign on the dotted lines, and it’s a done deal. You didn’t change your mind or anything, did you?” Bradley asked anxiously.
“Everything is fine, Tom,” Jane assured him. She moved a little to the right to be closer to Mike. “As you can see, you aren’t going to get rich doing this, but it’s wonderful exposure. And . . . you help people at the same time.” She playfully nudged her shoulder against his. “If you want, I can share my zingers and some of my one-liners with you.”
When Mike smiled at her, she took it as a signal that he wasn’t quite as angry at her now as he had been earlier on the phone. “Have you heard how your battery guy is doing?”
Mike compressed his lips and stared at a distant object. “They don’t know if he’s going to make it. It was a senseless, brutal beating.”
“What are you going to do?” Jane asked quietly.
“When I leave here, I thought I’d stop by the hospital. I . . . canceled all my appointments until after lunch.” He turned toward her. “Do you want to come along?” he asked, looking hopeful.
Jane stared into Mike’s eyes and knew he was miserable. “And risk becoming personally involved with your patient? I-don’t-think-so.”
“All right, Jane. You were right, and I was wrong. Do you want me to grovel? Jesus, you have no idea how bad I feel.” He looked completely deflated.
He’s finally getting it, she thought. Somehow I’ve gotten through to him. “Actually, Mike, I do know how you feel. I’d love to go with you.” She turned around and looked at Trixie. “Will you drive my truck home?” At Trixie’s nod, she took Mike’s hand and squeezed it.
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, honey. I hate hospitals. People die in hospitals. Everyone says that. As soon as you tell people someone is in the hospital, that’s what they say. People die in hospitals. People also get well, but we never say that. I wonder why that is. I don’t want this guy to die, Jane. I need to help him. I’ve got everybody in the world trying to figure out what his problem is.”
She couldn’t stand to see the man she loved so miserable, but she wasn’t yet ready to tell him what she thought was wrong with his patient. “It looks like the contracts are ready. Let’s sign off and be on our way. By the way, I made an offer on my parents’ old house today. The realtor said the owner is looking for a quick sale and thinks he’ll take it.”
“Nice going. Are you going to rent it out? Did you do it for investment purposes?”
“Nah. I’m gonna burn it down with whatever is inside.”
Trixie gasped, and Mike laughed.
“I guess that makes some kind of sense depending on where you’re standing,” Mike said, still laughing. “You aren’t going to do stuff like that after we’re married, are you?”
Jane squinted her eyes. “I am a woman of many mysteries. You’ll just have to wait and see.”
It was like all hospitals, a place of hope and a place of despair. She’d only been there twice in her life. Once when her father died and a second time when her mother passed on. With her father, she’d been full of hope, but with her mother, she’d experienced nothing but despair. Afterward, she’d cried for weeks on end. Even now, if she closed her eyes, she could remember the lobby, the waiting room, the smells, the generic pictures on the wall, the small chapel, the gift shop and food counter where all you could smell was licorice, coffee, and egg salad.
She sat down on a blue plastic chair to wait while Mike talked to the volunteer behind the desk. The chairs used to be a muddy brown color. A few of them, the ones on the end, had been orange. Evidently plastic chairs didn’t last forever. Nothing lasted forever.
Jane went into the gift shop and looked around. When she didn’t see what she was looking for, she asked the clerk, “Do you have any batteries?”
“Sure. What kind?”
“C’s, D’s, whatever.”
The clerk pointed to a small rack at the end of the counter. Jane spun the rack around. Which ones should she get? Which ones would give off the biggest charge? The D’s, of course. She bought two packs of D’s and a pack of triple AAA’s. She opened them the minute she paid for them and slipped them into her purse. By the time she returned to the hard, blue plastic chair, Mike was walking toward her.
“They’re going to let us see him. His family isn’t here yet, so they said we could visit once I explained we, as in you and I, were his doctors.”
“Bending the rules, eh? Do you think that’s from hanging around me, or are you finally realizing you don’t always have to go by the book?” She was pushing it, she knew, but better to push it now so it hit home rather than later when he could shrug it off.
“Both. His doctor is Jim Yahner, and he’s on the floor. Maybe he’ll talk to us.”
They rode the elevator in silence to the third floor. Mike headed for the nurse’s station where two doctors were discussing a chart one of them was holding. They both looked up, recognized Mike, and offered their hands.
Jane waited on the side while they talked. She heard snatches of the conversation. The patient they were talking about w
as William Winslet. If it was the same William Winslet, she had gone to school with him up to the seventh grade.
Mike reached for her hand. “We can go in, but only for ten minutes.”
“Wait a minute, Mike. Is your patient’s name Willie Winslet?”
“Yeah, how did you know?” he asked, looking perplexed.
“I heard one of the doctors say his name. I went to grade school with Willie. His parents took him out in the seventh grade and had him tutored at home. He was very frail and sickly. I don’t remember what was wrong with him, though. What did the doctor say?”
“He said Willie suffered multiple broken ribs, a concussion, a broken shoulder, and a ruptured spleen. They taped his ribs, set the shoulder, and removed the spleen. It will take time, but physically he should be fine. Mentally is another story. Jim said he’s not responding. He can’t understand why.”
They entered the room and stood looking down at the frail-looking man in the bed.
“I know why, Mike. I’m no magician, so don’t go thinking I am. But watch this,” Jane said, taking two of the D batteries out of her purse. She walked over to the bed and put one in each of Willie’s hands. She put the Triple AAA’s behind his neck on the pillow.
Mike grabbed her and pulled her back. “What the hell are you doing? Those aren’t sterile. Jesus, this is Intensive Care. You can’t do stuff like that in Intensive Care,” he hissed.
Jane ignored him and kept her eyes on Willie. “Look, Mike!”
Slowly, Willie opened his eyes and blinked. “Doc! What are you doing here?” he asked in a raspy voice. He lifted his hand to look at the battery. “Hey, man, thanks. That son of a bitch took all my batteries. Every last one of them. How’d you know I was here?”
Mike let go of Jane’s hand and stepped forward. “The police found my card in your pocket and called me. The doctor said you’re going to be okay. Whoever attacked you really did a number on you. Can you tell me what happened?”
“This real bad-ass jerk broke into my house and started whacking me around. He wanted the batteries. I guess I blacked out, and the next thing I knew I was here. Who’s this with you?” Willie gestured toward Jane.
“Willie, it’s Jane Lewis,” she said. “You used to sit behind me in homeroom. Do you remember me?”
“Yeah. You had so much hair I couldn’t see over your head. I’ve called into your show a couple of times. You sounded like you really cared. Remember that time you said don’t trust anyone who keeps their eyes open when kissing? I dumped the chick I was seeing right then and there.”
Jane laughed as she discreetly slipped two more D batteries into Mike’s hands.
Mike opened his hands and showed them to Willie. “Here’s a couple of spares in case you need them,” he said, setting them on the bedside table.
His voice was so choked up, Jane had to turn away to wipe at the tears misting her eyes.
“Hey, thanks for coming and . . . thanks for caring,” Willie said, smiling weakly. “You psychiatrists aren’t cold fish at all. You get a bum rap from what I hear.”
“We’ll leave you alone now, Willie. They said we could only stay a few minutes. If you need me, have one of the nurses call me, okay?”
Jane wrapped her arm around Mike’s waist and hugged him. “He’s asleep, Mike. Look how peaceful he looks.”
“Yeah, he does, doesn’t he?”
Before leaving the hospital, Mike tracked down Willie’s doctor and told him that under no circumstances was he to take Willie’s batteries away.
Once they were in his car, he turned to her, and confronted her. “Spit it out, Jane.”
She took a deep breath. She’d been dreading this moment. “I had this dream, Mike, and when I woke up, I knew.” That wasn’t quite the way it happened, but better to let him think she just woke up with the idea than to tell him the boy in her dream gave her the answer. She watched his facial expressions to determine what he was thinking. So far, he was buying her story. “Now that I know your patient is Willie Winslet, it makes sense. When he was in school he had no energy, no stamina. He was pale and listless all the time. He couldn’t do anything but sit. I don’t know if he grew out of whatever his problem was or what. Anyway, something must have triggered an alarm somewhere along the way, and he started buying batteries, thinking they would give him energy. You said he was healthy and robust when he first came to you. I think he experienced some kind of trauma before he started seeing you. If you stop to think about it, it does make sense in a weird kind of way. The elder Winslets still live in town. You could talk to them. But I want to caution you—If you do, you’ll be getting even more personally involved. If it was me, I’d do it. If Willie was my patient, I’d suggest hypnosis. The flip side is you can let him walk around with his batteries for the rest of his life.”
Mike leaned toward her and kissed her. “I have to admit, you’re one smart lady, ya know that?”
“How about buying me some lunch? I’m starved. Maybe you can help me figure out what to do with Todd Prentice and Brian Ramsey. You aren’t going to believe what Trixie and Fred are doing. I’m not sure I believe it myself,” Jane said, smiling at him. “An expensive lunch, Sorenson, because I’m worth every penny of it.”
It was one o’clock on the dot when Mike dropped Jane off at the farm. “I wish I could stay, Jane, but I have to get back. I’ll see you around seven, give or take a few minutes, okay?”
“I’ll be waiting. There isn’t a whole lot to do here right now with Murray working with the new dogs. Loads of paperwork, though. I need to get on that. Are you bringing dinner or am I cooking?”
“We haven’t had Chef Roy cook for us in a while. How about some crawfish gumbo for you and some shrimp en brochette for me. Salad with fig vinaigrette and potato salad on the side.”
Jane licked her lips in anticipation. “Perfect. Get Olive the steamed vegetable platter and make sure they season it.”
Mike put his arms around her and pulled her close. “I love you, Jane. I didn’t realize just how much until . . . until I had to think about what I would do without you.” He touched his lips to her forehead, then looked down at her. “Are you really going to burn down your old house?”
“Maybe not burn. I might implode it. I have some people to talk to about the best way to do it. But the answer to your question is that one way or another I’m going to destroy it.”
“I’ll see you tonight.”
Jane watched the fancy sports car until it was out of sight. She felt lost until Olive and Golda came up behind her to nuzzle her legs. “He’s coming back. I’m going to change my clothes and get to work, but I need to talk to Trixie first.” Jane held the screen door for the dogs to enter. She called to Trixie.
“I’m in the kitchen, Janie. How was the hospital?”
“Mike and I are finally playing on a level field, if you know what I mean. I was wondering if nothing is going on that isn’t too terribly pressing, if I could bail? I want to drive over to Brian Ramsey’s trucking company and talk with him. It’s time. I saw a side of him that night at Betty’s that I would like to explore.”
“Better now than later,” Trixie said. “Next week the officers we’re assigning the dogs to will be here, at which point it will get hairy. John is putting them through their paces. Flash is a tremendous help. You just wouldn’t believe how smart that dog is. In my opinion that dog is one hair away from being human. Olive is getting the hang of it, too. Golda is a natural.”
“Okay, then, I’ll see you bright and early in the morning. By the way, Trixie, Mike did real good with his battery guy. I was so proud of him. He finally let his hair down. Like all of us, he has a vulnerable button. Today he let it show. Everything is going to be okay. I think I just erased my last worry where he’s concerned. See ya.”
Jane parked the Rover next to a Chevy Blazer and looked around. She nodded approvingly. It was obvious Ramsey Trucking was a profitable enterprise.
The offices were small, but clean and neat
. The receptionist was middle-aged with a warm welcoming smile. Jane smiled in return.
“You must have a green thumb,” Jane said, waving her arm about.
“No, Mr. Ramsey has a green thumb. He takes care of all the plants. He has a small greenhouse in back. You should see his African violets. He wick waters them with old, cut up panty hose. What can I do for you?”
“I’d like to see Brian. Will you tell him Jane Lewis is here?”
“Sure thing. Brian, there’s someone here to see you,” she called over her shoulder.
He dwarfed the doorway. The shock on his face at her presence surprised Jane. “Brian, I hope I haven’t come at a bad time. Can we go outside? I’d like to see your greenhouse.”
“Louise, hold all my calls. I won’t be long.”
“Sure thing.”
“I didn’t tell her I was a doctor, Brian. Your personal business is your own. Besides, I’m not here on a professional call. I do need to talk to you, though. First, I want to show you a copy of the letter Betty left for me. I gave the original to the police. If you don’t want to read it, it’s okay. I understand.”
“No. I’d like to read it. I took some flowers out to the cemetery the other day. I felt just as bad then as I feel now. I wanted to help her. I swear to Christ I did. I went about it all wrong. I blame myself for a lot of what happened to her. She was so young. For her sake, I wish I had never met her.” Jane watched as he blinked away tears when he folded the letter and handed it back.
“I want you to tell me every single thing you know about what happened. I want your side of it. Don’t worry if you come off as not being what you would have liked to be. I’ll sift through it. If this isn’t a good time, we could arrange a more convenient time. I’m tied up until next Wednesday. How about Thursday? There’s something else, Brian. Something just as serious but somehow more evil.” She watched the ruddy color in Brian’s cheeks leave his face. She ushered him to a stack of crates filled with lettuce outside the terminal building. She perched on the edge of one crate. He did the same.
Plain Jane Page 29
