"It's so peaceful here," he said anticipating her question. "You're lucky."
"Lucky? Hardly," she said grimacing. "This is like dead-endsville. Peaceful as a cemetery. Things don't grow here anymore. They just rot, people included."
"Really? I thought it was a very busy, exciting resort area," he said.
"It's still busier than it is most of the year, but only for about ten weeks in the summer. Nothing here is like it used to be. It's dying. Look at my grandmother's place. She doesn't bother to spruce it up anymore. She's getting what she can out of it and then it, too, like so many similar small rooming houses, small hotels, and bungalow colonies, will either be bought up by some tax-free religious group or left to rot. I'm not interested in inheriting it. I can tell you that. If I don't get myself out of here soon either to return to college or just travel She left her words hanging in the air like someone hoping some mysterious and wonderful hero would come along and scoop them up, taking her and them off on a magic carpet of promise.
He turned and looked back at the pond. She's so perfect, he thought. He felt blessed. He really was blessed. Something more powerful than anything was ensuring that he would always have what he needed.
"Where would you want to go if you didn't return to college?" he asked, not taking his eyes off the pond.
"Anywhere but here," she said and followed it with a small, insecure laugh. He nodded.
"Too bad we can't stand still and have everything come to us," he said.
"Excuse me?"
"You know, all new things, exciting things come to us. We partake of them and then they move on and something new arrives. We'd never be bored." She shook her head.
"I'm not sure I know what you mean."
"Well," he said turning back to her. "You're here and now I've come." She held her smile. Her face was still bubbling with confusion.
"It takes time," he explained. "Time to understand. I'm still in the process myself." He gazed at the pond.
"What if it takes me too long?" she asked, following it with a giggle that sounded like a pocket full of change.
He looked at her again. "I wouldn't worry, Kristin. You're too special to be left behind."
"Right, sure," she said. She glanced at her watch.
"Going to work?"
"Yes. I don't go in until noon today. I'm off at eight," she added, obviously not just to provide trivial information.
"Why don't I come around about then? Maybe we can go for a drink somewhere and you can relax and tell me more about your future plans. Would you like that?"
"Sure," she said.
"I'll be waiting for you outside the restaurant," he promised. "I'd go back for dinner, but your grandmother looks like she would consider it a capital crime for me or anyone to reject one of her meals."
Kristin laughed.
"That's for sure."
"I'm looking forward to it anyway. I never had turkey meatloaf. I hope she is a good cook. I have a ravenous appetite," he said and added, "in every sense of the word."
She raised her eyebrows and released that small, thin laugh again.
"Just tell her how good it is and she'll pile your plate sky high. Flattery, will get you everywhere. It's a family weakness," she added and started back toward the house.
"Flattery will get you everywhere? It's a family weakness? How original," he muttered.
He stared ahead. Water flies caused ripples. They seemed to continue forever in his head.
"Will Dennis said that?" Curt asked, stretching his lips as if he had just bitten into a rotten piece of fruit. "When you told him about the investigator, he said that?"
She stared at him. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him what part he didn't understand. It wasn't in her to be sarcastic and short with people, especially him, but at the moment, she didn't feel anything like herself. Her stare made him squirm in the booth.
"I'll make a call," he said. "Something doesn't sound right." She couldn't resist.
"No shit, Dick Tracy."
He started to smile, thought a second time about it, and glanced instead at the menu. Before the death of Paige Thorndyke, they had made the date to have dinner at Melvin's Trout Reserve this particular evening. Originally, he was supposed to pick her up, but his court schedule and her delays at the medical offices made it better for them to meet at the restaurant. They were coming to it from opposite directions.
Terri had always hated going to and from a date alone, especially if she arrived before he did, which was most often the case. Heads turned and she could read their eyes, especially the eyes of the men with their legs dangling over bar stools as if they were riding horses. She imagined third eyes situated right at the center of their crotches.
Curt wasn't as bothered by separate arrivals, and she wondered if it wasn't simply a male-female thing. She hated that sort of explanation for anything. It truly made it seem as if they were a separate species, one more tolerant of something than the other. Men cringed at the sight of a rat just as much as women did, she thought.
But were women more romantic? Was that why it bothered her to come here alone and leave alone? In the end after the years of medical school, the degree and the professional accomplishments making her just as big a wage earner if not a bigger wage earner than Curt was, didn't she still want doors opened for her, chairs pulled out for her? The feminine in her would not, could not be denied?
He lowered the menu, deciding he would explain himself after all, her Dick Tracy remark gnawing at his ego like a termite in a heart made of wood.
"What I meant was, Will Dennis wasn't being truthful, and that suggests something to me."
"Why wouldn't the district attorney be truthful, Curt? What does it suggest?"
"I don't know. Maybe there's something going on undercover and he doesn't want to blow it."
"The man who came to my office wasn't under any cover, Curt. He was out front with a badge and all."
"Well... what the hell was he, a private detective posing as a state officer, someone hired by the Thorndykes, maybe?"
She looked up, her eyes bright.
"Yes, maybe that's it." She put folds of skepticism in her brow. "But so soon after, even before the funeral, they go looking for and hiring a private detective?"
He shrugged.
"People don't have faith in their hometown police. It makes sense to me. It takes too much effort and imagination to really investigate something as complicated as this appears to be.
"Look, Terri," he continued, reaching across the table for her hand, "you've got to put this behind you. If you let every death, every patient get to you like this, you'll soon become a patient yourself," he concluded.
She nodded.
"I know. You're right, of course. Hyman is with you on that, too."
"I always liked Hyman. I think I might even have trouble suing him."
"If you even thought of representing someone who would want to do that," she said, her eyes growing big with a fury he thought could consume them both. He laughed.
"Hey, I gotta do what I gotta do, don't I? You can't turn away a sick person just because you don't like him or her, or because he or she is a criminal, can you?"
"I sure as hell could discourage him or her from using me," she fired back and then sadly thought, and that's the difference between us.
Before the waitress returned to their table with their cocktails, Terri saw Eileen Okun enter the restaurant holding hands with a red-haired man who looked familiar. As they stepped down to follow the maitre d' to their table, the man glanced at her and smiled. She immediately recalled the strikingly hazel brown eyes and realized he was a nurse at the hospital and he, in fact, had been one of the nurses on duty the night Paige Thorndyke had been brought into the ER. How strange to see him with the woman Terri had been told was Paige's best friend, the woman on Paige's brother Phil's arm at the funeral.
"What is it?" Curt asked, noticing how she was staring at the couple. She told him who they were.
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"So? This is a popular restaurant and there aren't all that many good ones open this time of the year. I'm not surprised," he said with a shrug. He was annoying her so much tonight, she thought. Usually, she had more tolerance. She recognized just how much she was on edge.
"Have you decided?" the waitress asked.
"I have," Curt said. "Terri?"
"The poached salmon," she snapped.
"I'll have the same," Curt said. The waitress took their menus and Curt ordered himself another cocktail. He smiled at her.
"So, have you given thought to remodeling our bedroom? I have Frank Curtis coming over tomorrow to decide how we would go about cutting in the patio door. I thought, if we could cut it on the west end, we would build the balcony and be able to see the sun set over the Shawangunk Mountains. Huh?"
"That does sound very nice, Curt."
"Can you make it over, say about ten? Or better yet, sleep over tonight?" He reached for her hand again.
"You want to hear something funny?" she said instead of replying. "Hyman had four calls from patients today asking about the daily requirements for vitamin C. Like they thought a scourge of scurvy was about to descend on us. Despite all the information over the Internet, education, television, whatever, most people are relatively ignorant when it comes to their own bodies. I guess part of the reason is there is so much conflicting information. First, coffee is no good for you, then it is. First, you should take more supplements, then a study shows it could be harmful."
Curt stared coldly.
Then he leaned back.
"So I have this case involving a mother who has illegally tapped into her own children's trust funds. The children have hired me to sue their own mother. Now, of course it gets complicated when you begin to consider the defined benefit pension plan her husband had created and then there is the matter of the family trust fund and IRS code..."
"Okay," she said putting up her hands in a gesture of surrender. "I get the point." The waitress served Curt his second cocktail. As soon as she left, he leaned forward, smiling.
"I'd rather talk about us than anything, Terri, anything."
"I know. I'm sorry." She put her hand into his just as Eileen Okun stepped up to their booth.
"Excuse me," she said. "Mark, who's a nurse at the hospital, just told me who you are. I'm Eileen Okun. I was a very good friend of Paige Thorndyke's and..."
"Yes," Terri said quickly. "I know. I saw you at the funeral."
"Oh, you were there?"
"Yes, she was there," Curt said sharply, his eyes on her.
"How can I help you, Eileen?" Terri asked, trying to overpower his stern tone.
"I just wanted to tell you that I was with Paige twice this past week. We had dinner together the night before, and that was when we had made plans to meet at the Underground. I was unable to get there because of a family problem. Anyway," she said her eyes moving nervously from Curt to Terri, "I don't mean to bother you, but I wanted to tell you that there was absolutely nothing wrong with Paige."
"Are you in the medical field?" Curt asked.
"No. I'm a marketing consultant for Scanlon Insurance and..."
"So how can you make a diagnosis?" he followed, as if she were on the witness stand.
"Oh. I just meant... she was... she looked fine and she ate well and..."
"We're all confused about it," Terri confessed. "I wish I could tell you something that would help you understand it. I haven't learned anything new." She nodded.
"I'm just trying to keep myself occupied and not think about it, but I was wondering if there was any possibility of there being something contagious or anything," she said, smiling weakly at Curt and then looking at Terri.
"Why don't you ask your boyfriend?" Curt said.
"He's not really my boyfriend and he's not a doctor. I just thought..."
"It's all right, Eileen," Terri said, her eyes soft and friendly. "Scurvy is not contagious, no. It's a disease caused by a deficiency of vitamin C. You don't have to be concerned because you were in contact with Paige shortly before," Terri added as reassuringly as she could.
Curt, either by reflex or because he was annoyed, followed with, "What sort of contact did you have with Paige?"
Terri's eyes went large.
Eileen looked as if she were about to burst into tears.
"Just... friends, having dinner. We hugged at the end of the evening. That's all," she said. She shook her head. "It just didn't make any sense. Even Mark says that, so I wanted to talk to you. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude."
"It's all right," Terri said. "When something crazy like this happens, it makes us all a little terrified."
Eileen smiled her appreciation, threw a colder glance at Curt, and then returned to her table.
"Well, you were right," Curt said quickly. "The amount of ignorance and stupidity despite the improved technology and communication
"And the lack of compassion," she added. "She's just a frightened young woman, Curt. What happened to her friend is devastating."
"Right," he said.
The waitress brought their food.
"I'm sure there is a sensible explanation waiting out there. Or else it's just a freak accident of some kind. We've all just got to take a deep breath and think next and go on. Doesn't this look good?" he concluded nodding at the food.
"Yes," she said, but she had lost her appetite. Eating became mechanical.
"I hope there's some vitamin C in here," Curt kidded. The untimely crudeness of the remark made her eyes glitter with steel.
"I hope there's plenty of antioxidants," she countered.
"Antioxidants? Why?" he asked, his fork poised.
"Keeps brain cells healthy," she said.
"Very funny. I can see it's going to be interesting being married to a doctor," he said, but it didn't come out sounding like something positive. She swallowed down the feeling along with her food.
Although they had come in later, Mark and Eileen left before she and Curt. On their way out, Eileen glanced back. Terri smiled at her and she smiled back.
"Are you coming over or what?" Curt asked when he paid their check.
"I'll be there tomorrow. I'm tired," she said.
"No better rest than the rest you'll have at the farm lying in my arms," he insisted.
"Somehow, I don't think it will be just cuddling."
"So?"
"Tomorrow," she repeated with a firmness he had gotten used to knowing was rarely unhinged.
"Right. Tomorrow," he muttered.
They kissed at her car, where he tried to be softer, apologetic, and loving. She let him try and then she repeated her desire to go home and get a good night's sleep. Disappointment was masked poorly with a perfunctory smile and another quick, obligatory goodnight kiss and then he got into his Jaguar and sped into the night.
She followed out of the driveway and turned slowly toward Centerville. These rural mountain roads were quiet even during the summer months. Miles of forest was interrupted by an occasional house and lawn, but real development didn't begin until she was five miles or so from the hamlet proper. She was driving slowly, almost totally by rote, not thinking much about the route itself. The sight of a police car's bubble lights flickering ahead brought her out of her daze. She slowed and saw the patrol car was parked behind a black Jeep Cherokee. The patrolman was on the driver's side. The door was open and he was leaning in. He turned as she pulled up beside.
"Anything wrong?" she asked. "I'm a doctor."
"A doctor? Christ," he said, "am I glad you're here!"
FIVE
The young dark-haired woman in the Cherokee was totally naked and slumped low in the driver's seat. Even her shoes and stockings were off. Her eyes were bulging and she was in a heavy sweat. She looked like she was slowly pouring onto the floor as if her body was liquefying. Terri immediately saw she was hyperventilating.
"Miss, can you talk? Can you tell us what's happening to you? Do you have any pain, any s
erious ailments? Are you on any medication? Why are you naked?" Terri hated firing questions like this at the obviously distressed woman. It was like throwing everything in her repertoire against the wall and hoping something stuck, but she needed something, some helpful information to help her start a sensible protocol. From the looks of the woman, she needed it quickly. She opened and closed her mouth without uttering a sound. She was either too weak or a mute, Terri thought. Then she smelled alcohol on her breath.
"How much did you drink?" she fired at her, sounding almost like an angry parent.
The woman shook her head.
"I just found her like this," the highway patrolman said. "Her clothes are on the rear seat and on the floor. Actually, I was off duty and heading home myself and I saw this vehicle pulled over with the lights still on," he continued, ranting. He looked very young and Terri imagined he hadn't had all that much experience. He continued to talk as Terri went back to her car to get her bag.
"The engine was running so I pulled up to see if anything was wrong. She wouldn't speak. I don't see any blood, although she's very red."
"Did you call for an ambulance?" she fired back at him.
"Not yet."
"Do it!" she screamed.
The patrolman lunged toward his car and got on the radio.
Terri moved in on the woman and began to wrap her blood pressure cup on the woman's arm. She was gasping for breath like someone who had been under water too long.
"Jesus," Terri said when she went to feel the woman's pulse. "She's got a water hammer pulse."
"What's that?" the policeman asked, returning.
"It's pounding. You don't have to press much to feel it. I think she's going into cardiac arrest!"
Terri checked the woman's blood pressure, which revealed a high systolic and a low diastolic. Her arm felt very warm as well.
"Her heart can't keep up!" she said.
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