'What's the matter, son? I just want to check your pulse.'
'His pulse is normal. Doctor,' Holly said, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice. 'So is his temperature and blood pressure. It's all on the chart.'
'Good. If you'll stand by, I'd like to look him over.'
'I am not a nurse,' Holly said, spacing her words carefully.
Pastory studied her, his mouth quirked in a private smile.
'Sorry, Doctor. I meant that you and I would make the examination together, of course.'
'The examination has been completed.'
Pastory stroked the end of the gold Cross pen that peeked out of his jacket pocket. 'Aren't you being overprotective of this patient, Doctor?'
'I don't think so.'
'Have you given any thought to what we have here?'
'What we have is a boy who's been through a terrifying experience. A boy who could use some rest and quiet.'
'What we have,' Pastory went on, ignoring her, 'just might be the first survivor from Drago.'
'There's no reason to assume he's from Drago,' Holly said. But over Pastory's shoulder she saw the little muscles tighten around the boy's mouth.
'But the possibility does exist,' Pastory said. 'And think what this could mean to us if he is one of the Drago people. No one really knows what happened there. If we were to produce a flesh-and-blood survivor… the opportunities would be limitless.'
'You're thinking of taking him on the Johnny Carson Show}'
'Of course not. I'm speaking strictly of the importance to medical research.'
'Doctor, this is just a lost, frightened boy.'
'Maybe, but I read the report of the deputies who brought him in. They mentioned some facial peculiarities.'
'Take a look at him,' Holly said. 'Do you see anything peculiar?'
They both looked down at the boy in the bed.
Holly felt a sudden chill. Did the hair grow a fraction lower on the boy's forehead than a moment ago? And his eyebrows… she did not remember them being so heavy. And was there a new hardening around his mouth? She looked away for an instant, then back at the boy. The impressions faded. She must not let Pastory plant suggestions in her mind.
Pastory leaned down over the bed. 'I don't know,' he said slowly. 'There's… something.'
'He's tired,' Holly said. 'I think you'd better leave us.'
'Are you in charge here, Doctor?'
'Until I'm told differently.'
For a moment the two faced each other. Pastory was the first to look away. 'I'll be back,' he said.
With a last searching look at the boy, he left the room.
Holly turned back to the bed. What was it she had found strange about his face a moment ago? He looked normal enough now. Just a poor confused boy.
The hopeful mood in which Holly had begun the day was dissipated by the encounters with Qualen and Pastory. The boy had withdrawn once again, and she was sitting at his bedside feeling discouraged when Gavin Ramsay stopped by.
'Got time to talk?'
Holly glanced at the boy, who had fallen into a light sleep. 'Aren't you supposed to read me my rights or something?'
'Hey, I'm just trying to be sociable.'
'Were you being sociable when you told Dennis Qualen we had a dangerous criminal here?'
'He's the chief of staff. He's entitled to know what I'm doing here. However, that's not quite the way I put it to him.'
Holly drew in a breath and let it out slowly. 'Sorry. This day hasn't begun well for me. Not your fault.' She got out of the chair. 'There's a patient's lounge at the end of the hall with a coffee machine. I'll buy.'
They walked to the lounge which was brightly furnished with comfortable chairs, chequer boards, card tables, and a pinball machine. An old man in a wheelchair stared at the television set where a game show was silently in progress. The old man did not seem to miss the sound.
Holly dropped coins into the machine. It spilled a stream of brackish coffee into two plastic cups. They carried the cups over to a table and sat down.
'Any word yet on who he is?' Holly asked.
'Nope. As far as I know, he might have stepped off a flying saucer.'
'That's not very funny.'
'You're right, it isn't.'
They sat for a minute sipping at the hot brew, not saying anything. Holly watched him over the rim of her plastic cup. Finally she said, 'Can I ask you a question?'
'Ask,' he said.
'What are you doing here, anyway?'
'Waiting for your kid to snap out of his trauma so I can ask him what he was doing out in the woods.'
'No, I mean what are you doing here in Pinyon?'
'Everybody's got to be somewhere.'
'Are you happy being sheriff of a county with a population that could fit into a high-school gym?'
'Sure. Why not?'
'There was talk a while back about you running for governor.'
'Any such talk was strictly the fantasies of my ex-wife and my ex-father-in-law.'
'Forrest Ingraham.'
Ramsay gave her a long look. 'That's the man. What else do you know about me?'
'Oh, a little. You went to Wilamette University, enlisted, of all things, in the army, fought in Vietnam, won some medals, came home, went to law school, married Forrest Ingraham's daughter, were elected sheriff, got a divorce.'
'That sure covers the high spots. Don't I have any secrets?'
'Lots, I'll bet. They're none of my business. I just wonder why you stay here.'
'I like it. Oh, I've had other offers. From the police departments in Cleveland, Buffalo, and Jersey City. Would you leave La Reina County for any of those?'
'I suppose not,' she said, laughing softly.
'Well, then.'
'Why do you have to be a policeman? Do you get some kind of kick out of it?'
His expression hardened. 'Sure. I get off on clubbing down peace-marching college kids and locking up widows who can't pay their rent.'
'Oh-oh, did I touch a nerve?'
'You're damn right. You ACLU types who spit out policeman like something that tastes bad give me a pain in the ass.' He paused for a deep breath. 'Sorry. We better get off this before I go into one of Jack Webb's old Dragnet speeches.'
'I guess we aren't ready for a personal conversation.'
'I guess not,' he said.
They got up and dropped their cups into a trash container near the door.
'Just one thing,' she said, 'I don't belong to the ACLU.'
'Nobody's perfect,' he said.
Holly's breakthrough with the boy came that night while she sat in the chair next to his bed. She snapped off the television set after Loveboat.
'I don't know about you,' she said, 'but I'm tired.' She tucked the sheets in around the boy and smiled down
