'I'd imagine your being immune to his attempts to scare you would be more galling. If you taunted him, even, that might draw him in. But don't overdo it. He's not beyond being scared off himself.' Dash paused. 'There are risks.'
'Aside from the obvious?'
'Yes. Every intervention so far has driven him to a higher level of violence. When he's foiled, he comes back with something more bold. The more bold he gets, the more fear he's able to generate. Think of it as an intensifying addiction.'
'What can I do about that?'
Dash shrugged, a massive, shifting movement. 'Probably nothing. I'm just making something clear. You're the one who's been raising the stakes.'
Chapter 63
Outside Sandy's office, Don shot his cuffs and readjusted a gold cuff link with a practiced flick of his thumb. A female resident walked by, full in the ass and tight in the waist, and he watched her until she disappeared around the corner.
'Come in,' Sandy called out, before he could knock. The door was solid, windowless.
Seated at her conference table, she continued to sort through mounds of paperwork, not looking up. 'What can I help you with, Dr. Lambert?' she asked.
'I wanted to let you know that I'm going to actively pursue assault charges against Dr. Spier unless this matter is handled expeditiously in-house.'
'Don't split your infinitives, Dr. Lambert,' Sandy said. She removed her wire-rim glasses, set them on a folder, and rubbed her eyes. 'It spoils the illusion of eloquence you seek to cultivate.' The smell of his aftershave permeated the room. Sandy finally looked at him. She whistled. 'Where you going all dolled up?'
Don adjusted his tie nervously. 'I'm on my way home from the opera. My date is waiting in the car.'
'Well, I hope you left a window cracked.'
Neither smiled.
'So you've been worrying this all night like a canker sore, have you?' Sandy put her glasses on and studied him. Her icy blue eyes matched the starched collar of her shirt. 'What do you propose we do?'
'I think he should step down as chief of the division.'
'That would be convenient for you, wouldn't it? But inconvenient for the board. We'd be unable to find a qualified replacement-how did you put it in your corporate way-in-house.'
Don's voice rose in pitch. 'This isn't about career advancement, it's about misconduct and a complete disregard for professionalism. He assaulted me in front of patients and staff. Assaulted me. Over something I didn't do. He's coming unwound. He's barely ever in the ER anymore, and I heard he left early today.'
'He left early?' Sandy whistled, feigning astonishment. 'Maybe we should report him to the Medical Board.'
Don stared her down.
She sighed heavily, then her face resumed its usual businesslike cast. 'The board is airing the issue tomorrow,' she said dourly. 'Rest assured, we are viewing this incident seriously.'
'Well, I hope action will be taken before this gets… loud.'
Sandy searched for a pen behind her ear and found it. She tapped it against her lips, which had drawn together in something of a scowl. 'For seventeen years at this institution, Dr. Spier has been a physician beyond reproach. Do you know what that means? To be beyond reproach?'
'Of course.'
She regarded him dubiously. 'Your concern in this matter has been duly noted.' She glanced back down at the papers in front of her. 'Good night, Dr. Lambert. You don't want to keep your date waiting.'
Chapter 64
After calling Yale, David crawled into bed. Yale had spent the day shaking leads with Dalton and had turned up little of consequence. Happy Horizon's records had not been well kept, and the detectives were having some difficulty tracking down the children Clyde had overlapped with during his time there. From information collected at Clyde's apartment, they'd compiled a list of the places Clyde had stopped at regularly-Ralph's Groceries, 7-Eleven, Healton's-and they were keeping an eye on them.
After David filled Yale in on his conversation with Dash, Yale told David a unit had been sitting on Mrs. Connolly's house, and said he'd see about getting another car freed up to cover Sandy. Hospital security had been watching Diane's room.
Though David could barely keep his eyes open, he called Diane.
'Hey, Rocky,' she said.
'You heard.'
'Don puts out a loud whine.'
'How are you doing?'
'I've had better weeks.'
'Do you want me to come in and see you?'
'Sorry,' she joked. 'Visiting hours are over.'
'I'm not a visitor.'
'Are you something more permanent?' she asked.
After he hung up, he lay back and let his muscles go lax. A revving sports car up on Sunset reminded him of the earplugs he'd accidentally stolen from Healton's Drugstore. He retrieved them from his pants in the laundry, returned to bed, and put them in. They were surprisingly effective. He closed his eyes, pulling the sheets up to his chin, and drifted on the blissful silence. He was asleep in seconds.
Through his sleeping stupor, he became vaguely aware of a distant ringing. It repeated itself at intervals, then he was awake and momentarily lost before the familiar glow of the alarm clock reminded him he was home. The ringing returned. The doorbell. Muted through his earplugs. And some kind of rasping.
Why was someone ringing his bell at 3:30 in the morning? Grabbing the cordless from its cradle, he padded to the front door, leaving his earplugs on a hall table.
He peered through the peephole at Jenkins and Bronner. 'Yes? Can I help you?'
'Please open the door, Dr. Spier.'
David cracked the door and peered through the gap. 'What does this concern?'
'Dr. Spier, please.' Jenkins's voice had an edge of concern in it, enough to cause David to open up. Both officers stood back toward the edge of the porch. 'Can you please step out onto the porch?'
'Look, I'm not really sure- ' David noticed Bronner leaning to the side, trying to get a better angle to see around him into the dark foyer, and he stopped short. Resisting the urge to look behind him, David stepped out into the cool night.
Jenkins grabbed David's arm, his hand encompassing his biceps, and pulled him back, eyes locked on the open front door. 'We got a 911 call alerting us to this address about fifteen minutes ago,' he said.
David shook his head. 'Well, everything's fine. I've been sleeping for hours. It must have been a prank.'
His declaration did little to wipe the intense concern from the officers' faces. Jenkins was working his lip between his teeth, his arms steeled and rigid.
'What?' David asked. 'Why are you so alarmed?'
Jenkins unholstered his pistol. 'The call came from within your house.'
David swallowed hard, but the spit caught in his throat.
Pistol drawn, Jenkins toed the door the rest of the way open and inched inside. 'Stay outside,' Bronner growled. He turned on his flashlight, unholstered his pistol, and, crossing his arms at the wrists, followed Jenkins
