'I'm open to suggestions,' I said. 'I've got Milo running background checks on the parents and the nurse, and I'm doing my best to get a feel for all of them. Problem is, there isn't a shred of real evidence, just logic, and logic isn't worth much, legally. The only fishy thing so far is the mother lying to me about being the victim of an influenza epidemic when she was in the army. I called the base and managed to find out there'd been no epidemic.'
'Why would she lie about something like that?'
'The real reason she was discharged could be something she wants to hide. Or, if she's a Munchausen personality, she just likes lying.'
'Disgusting,' she said. A person doing that to their own flesh and blood. To any kid... How does it feel to be back at the hospital?'
'Kind of depressing, actually. Like meeting an old friend who's gone downhill. The place seems gloomy, Rob. Morale's low, cash flow's worse than ever, lots of staff have left-remember Raoul Melendez-Lynch?'
'The cancer specialist?'
'Uh-huh. He was married to the hospital. I watched him weather crisis after crisis and keep on ticking. Even he's gone-took a job in Florida. All the senior physicians seem to be gone. The faces I pass in the halls are new. And young. Or maybe I'm just getting old.'
'Mature,' she said. 'Repeat after me: ma-ture.'
'I thought I was callow.'
'Mature and callow. Secret of your charm.'
'Top of all that, the crime problems out on the street are leaking in more and more. Nurses beaten and robbed... A couple of nights ago there was a murder in one of the parking lots. A doctor.'
'I know. I heard it on the radio. Didn't know you were back working there or I would have freaked.'
'I was there the night it happened.'
Her fingers dug into my hand, then loosened. 'Well, that's reassuring.
... Just be careful, okay? As if my saying it makes a difference.'
'It does. I promise.'
She sighed and put her head on my shoulder. We sat there without talking.
'I'll be careful,' I said. 'I mean it. Old guys can't afford to be reckless.'
'Okay,' she said. A moment later: 'So that's why you're down. I thought it might be me.'
'You? Why?'
She shrugged. 'The changes-everything that's happened.'
'No way,' I said. 'You're the bright spot in my life.'
She moved closer and rested a hand on my chest. 'What you said before-the hospital being gloomy? I've always thought of hospitals that way.'
'Western Peds was different, Rob. It used to be... vital.
Everything meshing together like this wonderful organic machine.'
'I'm sure it was, Alex,' she said softly. 'But when you get down to it, no matter how vital or caring a hospital is, it's always going to be a place of death, isn't it? Mention the word hospital to me and what comes to my mind is my dad. Lying there, all tubed and punctured and helpless. Mom screaming for the nurse every time he moaned, no one really caring... The fact that your place treats kids only makes it worse, as far as I'm concerned. Cause what's worse than suffering kids? I never understood how you stayed there as long as you did.'
'You build up a shell,' I said. 'Do your job, let in just enough emotion so you can be useful to your patients. It's like that old toothpaste commercial. The invisible shield.'
'Maybe that's what's really bothering you, coming back after all these years, and your shield's gone.'
