"Sure, Jack. We'll see you then."
"I'm going to the O.R. to get a shower and change my clothes. Either of you need anything?" Robert asked.
"No," Jack and Alex said in unison.
"I'll walk out with you, Robert. See you in a little while, Jack. You want any donuts?" Alex asked in a teasing voice.
"No, I'm not hungry lately," Jack said a little dismally. He knew what his friends were thinking.
On the way out of the unit, Alex asked Robert, "What do you think, Robert? Do you think Jack just wanted to believe Monique was coming out of it?"
"I don't think anything. I'm just praying Jack is right." Robert's voice was tense, and Alex could feel his disappointment. "That being said, she's still in a deep coma and I certainly didn't see any response at all."
43
Mona, Bridgett, and Latetia were drinking coffee and gossiping in Alex's office. All three stood and hugged her when she came in.
Bridget looked rested and she was laughing. "Guess what, Al? Angie's much better today! Last night she began to come around. She began talking about the attack and said it was Whitset who attacked her. Angie was a little emotional when Jack told her that Whitset was dead. It takes her a while to understand stuff, but then she said she was glad."
Alex hugged Bridgett again, as her secretary continued to talk.
"Anyway, she seemed relieved that Whitset was dead. Nadine told her that her responses were natural, well, you know, normal. Anyway, she is so much better, and I feel so grateful to you all." Bridgett looked like her old self. Her blond hair was piled high on her head, her blue eyes were sparkling, and the rings of fatigue around her eyes were gone. Her clothes, once again, were outrageous. She wore a pink mini-skirt, an orange tank top, and a lime green blazer. She couldn't be any brighter. She even had on three-inch gold heels and the largest lime green necklace and drop earrings Alex had ever seen.
Alex shook her head when she noted Bridgett's outfit, but was so happy for her that she just said, "Bridge, I'm so glad. I know Angie's going to be fine now. She is strong and practical, just like you, and she will be able to work through it. Besides, she has her husband and Jessica to pull her through. They'll help her refocus her life."
Bridgett hugged Alex again and said, "Alex, will you help me help her? You are so good at helping people with things."
Alex felt her heart start to beat frantically. She understood then that Bridgett didn't know that Whitset had attacked and raped her as well. Alex didn't know if she would be able to help herself, much less Angie.
"I'll do my best, Bridge. You know that. And by the way, you're so bright that most people would need sunglasses to look at you today. What an outfit!" If Bridgett picked up on the hesitancy in Alex's voice, she didn't let on.
Bridgett looked a bit chagrined. "Yeah, but I wanted to look cheerful for Angie. Believe me, she had plenty to say to me about my outfit. She's so conservative. She doesn't dress like me at all anymore. She used to hate it when Momma dressed us alike in bright colors."
Latetia, laughing at them, commented, "Yes, Miss Bridgett, now, she does wear the bright clothes. No question."
Alex’s spirits rose as she looked at Leticia. "Latetia, how's the boss this morning?"
Latetia smiled coyly at Alex and said, "Well, Miss Alex, Mr. Montgomery isn't in this morning. I doubt he'll be here for the rest of the week. Rumor has it that he has a black eye, among other injuries." I even heard he needed to see his dentist 'cause he lost a few teeth!" Latetia was smiling broadly, her white teeth shining.
Alex held up her hand to stop her and said gaily, "Say no more, Latetia. Let's just glory in rumors and the memories! And, Miss Mona, how are you today?"
"I'm alright well, Alex. I'm glad to see you're looking so good. Much better than yesterday! I guess I'm a little sad, though. Looks like I'll be out of a job soon. Bridge is coming back next week." Mona looked a little forlorn.
"Get off it, Mona. You know you can only stand working a week at a time. If you need some extra work, I'm sure Alex can arrange it. Right, Alex?" Bridge winked at Alex.
Alex smiled at both women. "Yeah. You bet. Just let me know, Mona."
Bridgett changed the subject. "How's Dr. Desmonde, Alex?
Alex shook her head. "Not good, Bridgett. She's the same. She's in a coma. Dr. Bonnet is hopeful that she'll regain consciousness soon. Her neurosurgeon is less hopeful."
Bridgett and Latetia looked sad.
Mona said expectantly, "Commander Françoise was in here earlier. He said she had squeezed his hand."
Alex nodded her head and said, "Yes, I know. He told me, too. But now, she seems to be back in a deep coma." There was silence and Alex continued, "Bridgett or Mona, could you have dietary send up some coffee and donuts for us? Jack and Robert are coming over soon and will be in my office."
Bridgett said with some authority, "The commander just needs to be patient, Angie was in a coma too, and now she's just fine."
"Why don't you remind him of that, Bridgett, when you see him today, "Alex suggested. "He could use a perk.”
Bridgett gave Alex a bright, dazzling smile. "I'll do just that, Alex. The commander is a good man."
Alex nodded in agreement, while Mona went to call dietary. Then, she waved goodbye to the secretaries and went into her office.
As Alex savored the silence and elegance of her office, she noted she had less than an hour before Jack, Nadine, and Robert would show up. It occurred to her that no one knew about her rape except for Jack, Robert, Josh, and Nadine. That was comforting. If Bridgett or Mona knew, she would've picked up on it. Alex felt some relief that her confidentiality was intact.
As she continued to think, she again noticed the letter from her friend in San Francisco. Alex found herself reading the letter and scanning the organization's annual report. Her interest in setting up their legal department was heightened. More than ever, she felt a pressing need to get out of New Orleans and away from Crescent City Medical Center for a while. Perhaps she could arrange for a year or two sabbatical. Maybe by then, Don would have quit and she could come back. She was infinitely sick of him and his juvenile antics. But she might as well forget California. Her grandparents would have a fit, particularly the congressman. She really needed to get closer to Virginia. It occurred to her that this was the second time she had had these thoughts in a very short period of time. Maybe, though, she should consider California for a year.
Mona buzzed her and said the others were in her conference room. Alex went in, her heart pounding, as if she were about to be executed. Now, she would find out if she had been forcibly raped or not. Then, she could make plans and get on with her life.
Jack, Robert, and Nadine were drinking coffee and talking quietly. Only Robert was eating a donut. A bad sign, Alex thought. Jack had never turned down a donut before. She studied his face as she sat down. It was dismal as he spoke to them. He looked like a whipped puppy.
"I don't have much to tell you," he began. "First of all, Whitset was responsible for the rape and beating of Angie and the murder of Mrs. Smithson. The evidence is conclusive; the bite marks match up perfectly."
Alex and Robert sat quietly and Nadine said, "Go on, Jack, what else?"
Jack sighed and continued, "There's also evidence that Weston Whitset killed his elementary school teacher when he was seven years old. After that, he was committed to a state institution for the criminally insane. Anyway, Weston assumed the identity of his brother, Lester, about twenty years ago. Lester was a hospital administrator in the British West Indies and died there rather unexpectedly. As a matter of fact, he died during a visit from Weston. Weston Whitset had been released earlier from a forensics unit and had gone there to visit. Apparently, Lester Whitset's death was never reported in the United States, but Weston Whitset's was." Jack looked around at the incredulous stares of the group.
The commander continued, "Therefore, the psych hospital wrote him off and never expected him back for follow-up. There was som
e speculation of foul play in Lester's death, but the evidence against Weston was inconclusive. After a year or so, Weston Whitset reappeared in the United States as Lester Whitset and assumed his brother’s identity and occupation."
Alex moaned and said, "Oh, my God, this is unbelievable!"
Françoise agreed, "Yes, unbelievable, but true. Anyway, the records at the Pennsylvania psychiatric hospital noted that Lester Whitset had called from the West Indies, shortly before his death, and expressed concern because his brother had stopped taking his medicine and was acting strangely. Shortly after that, the hospital received notice of Weston Whitset's death, so they closed their case."
Robert interrupted, "So, was it proven that Whitset killed his brother?"
"No," Jack said. "Lester Whitset apparently drowned while sailing. An autopsy revealed he had been taking illegal drugs – a real surprise to everyone. Anyhow, the investigation and evidence against Weston was inconclusive. It's an incredible story!" Jack lamented, as he shook his head.
"What was Whitset's psychiatric diagnosis?" Robert asked.
Jack shook his head and said, "I'll try to explain, but it's hard. He was diagnosed with autism when he was little and then as a paranoid schizophrenic. He was dangerous and violent. I'll never understand why they let him travel out of the United States." Françoise shook his head disgustedly.
Alex remembered back when psychiatric hospitals had emptied their patients into society. The timing was about right, the late 1960s and early 1970s. "Not so surprising, really. Has anyone in psychiatry reviewed Whitset's records from Pennsylvania?"
Commander Françoise smiled at her. "Funny you should mention that, Alex. Our state forensic psychiatrist called me an hour ago. He said that, based on his review of Whitset's records, he would diagnose him as having delusional misidentification syndrome."
"What! What in the heck is that? I've never heard of it. Delusional misidentification syndrome. Is that for real?" Robert asked.
"It's apparently a syndrome in which the affected patient believes that people in his environment experience radical changes in their psychological identity without a change in their physical appearance. In this case, the forensic expert said he based his opinion on the fact that Whitset was actually suffering from Fregoli Syndrome. Fregoli's occurs when the patient has the delusion that others exhibit radical changes in their physical identity without changing their behavior."
"Huh? Say that again, Jack. I want to be sure I understand," Nadine said. The others nodded their heads in agreement.
"I wish Monique was here to explain it. I really can't. Interestingly enough, she had suspected it and had noted that as a potential diagnosis in his file in her office. Let me try to tell you what I can." Jack looked so tired and sad that Alex was alarmed for him.
Jack repeated the definition of misidentification syndrome and continued, "Whitset's records say that he reported his schoolteacher turned into plastic before he killed her. He said she was a plastic person, an imposter, and he had to kill her because his voices told him to. He referred to these plastic people as imposters all the way through his medical records. The forensic psychiatrist thinks that is why Whitset tried to destroy and eradicate the faces of Angie, Monique, and Mrs. Smithson. The shrink thinks Whitset saw them as plastic people. Apparently, it's written all through his medical records that his job was to kill imposters!"
Noting the confusion on the faces of his colleagues, Jack tried again, "In other words, Monique, Angela, and Mrs. Smithson turned to plastic in front of him. A delusion, I guess. Anyway, whenever Whitset got angry with them, they appeared plastic to him. They were physically, in his mind, the same people with plastic faces. They were the same people with the same behavior, but, Whitset, the wacko, considered them imposters and his enemies. Since his voices told him to destroy imposters, he went about his mission."
Alex felt sick to her stomach. “This is hideous, just grotesque. It sounds like the plot for a horror movie. I can't believe it happened here at Crescent City!"
Nadine nodded her head in agreement with Alex and said, "Yeah, it's a ghastly story. Isn't it ironic that it was Whitset who was actually the imposter? Do these types of patients usually commit rape, Jack?"
Jack shrugged his shoulders and said, "I don't know, Nadine. The state guy didn't say. There is no evidence to suggest they do. I forgot to ask, I was so appalled at the story. Anyway, Whitset did have an aberrant sexual history. There were several sexual situations when he was hospitalized, so I guess it's hard to say. We do know that Whitset raped people."
"I guess Whitset planted the evidence to try to implicate Jim McMurdie, didn't he?" Alex asked.
Jack answered affirmatively. "Yep, and almost got away with it too. I think he knew Monique was on to him. I think that's why he went after her. Just like Whitset's schoolteacher, Angie, and Mrs. Smithson, I suppose Monique turned to plastic and appeared as an imposter in Whitset's sick, whacked out mind." Jack's voice was sad and forlorn. "I hate crazies," he added.
There was a long silence as each of them considered Jack's story. It was a lot to take in and understand.
Finally, in a quavering voice, Alex asked, "Jack, do you have the results of my rape tests?"
The commander looked at her gently and said, "Yes, I do, Alex. The tests are inconclusive. Whitset was a non-secretor and ..."
Alex felt her heart sink. Now I'll never know, she thought to herself.
Jack interrupted her thoughts and said, "However, the other tests were conclusive. The physician reported no evidence of penetration or any other physical evidence that would support an actual physical rape."
Alex felt optimistic for a moment, until Nadine’s sharp voice interrupted her.
"You still encountered a psychological rape, so you'll have to be prepared to work through the trauma. The emotional piece is unchanged. You do understand that, don't you, Alex?"
Alex nodded and said, "Of course I do. Thank heavens that Josh Martin arrived when he did. I'll be thankful for that for the rest of my life." In her heart, Alex knew that she hadn't been raped by Whitset. For some reason, that gave her comfort and she was ready to move on.
Robert took her hand and smiled at her.
Alex resisted the urge to jerk it away from him, not quite understanding why she was having such a negative reaction to Robert. He had been just great, wonderful to her in fact. What the hell was wrong with her?
Just at that moment, Mona appeared at the door, breathless, and said, "Commander, Commander, the nurse in neurosurgery is on the phone. She has news for you. The phone in here should ring in just a moment."
Jack jumped up and grabbed the conference phone.
Alex, Robert, and Nadine looked at him expectantly, hope on each of their faces.
Jack broke out into a gleeful laugh, saying, "I'll be right up." He turned to his friends, "She's awake, she's awake! She asked for me! I'll see you yo-yo's later."
Jack hugged Alex, Nadine, and Robert all at the same time and then literally danced out of Alex's conference room.
"Think he'll take the elevator?" Alex quipped.
"Nah," said Robert. "He'll run up the four flights of stairs! I'd better arrange for a crash cart by the elevator."
They all burst out laughing, all aware of Jack's elevator phobia. Life was good after all.
44
Later that evening, Alex and Robert were finishing dinner at Café Dégas, one of Alex's favorite neighborhood restaurants. The mood had been light and joyful. Now, as Alex looked around the restaurant, she found herself a little depressed. Café Dégas had been Mitch's favorite restaurant and they had dined there often. Her thoughts returned to Mitch and how much she had loved him – or, at least, thought she had.
Robert leaned forward and asked in his deep, beautiful voice, "Why so pensive, Alex? We’re having a wonderful time! We have so much to be thankful for."
Alex looked at him, smiled lightly, and said, "Yes, we do, but I need to tell you something, Robert."
Robert felt the walls crashing in. He knew it was his depression returning. "Yes," he said hesitantly, afraid of what she would say and knowing he didn't want to hear it.
"I'm going to Virginia for a few weeks. You know how I go back home for renewal. I need to see Dundee and ride her through the woods. I need some time away. I also need to check on Grand and Granddad."
"Yes, I know that," Robert said, his voice anxious, hoping that Alex would invite him as she had in February.
Alex knew what he was thinking, but she also knew she needed time alone. She continued, "I need some time to myself. So much has happened. I'd like to spend some time in friendly, familiar surroundings."
"I understand. I'll be here when you get back. You know that." His voice was low and gentle, his French accent subtle, refined, and cultured.
Alex was trying to choose her words carefully. She knew Robert loved her and she didn't want to hurt him any more than she had to.
She continued, "When I return from Virginia, I think I'm going to consider an opportunity in San Francisco. They're looking for an attorney to set up a legal department in a new managed care organization. I’ve gotten several letters from them and I…"
Robert felt like something was grabbing his heart. He looked at her sadly and said tenderly, "I understand, Alex. I want you to do what's best for you. I have always wanted that." His eyes were sad.
"I'm not planning to leave forever. I'm only going to take a sabbatical. Maybe a year or so, just to get this legal department up and running. I will come back to New Orleans. You know my grandfather would just die if I moved to San Francisco permanently. He's half dead now because I'm living here.”
Robert nodded and smiled. "Yes, I know very well. I am well aware," Robert said, trying to make light of the situation.
“Anyway, he's convinced it’s past time for California to fall into the ocean. It's just that … I need time to think things out and recover from this year. So much has happened …" Her voice faltered.
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