The Missing Year (11 page)

“Are you sure you want me to take the car?” Camille pulled up to Lakeside’s main entrance and shifted into park.

“I’m positive. Back here at five?”

“Unless you call before then.” Camille reached across to give Ross a hug and said, “Last chance to change your mind.”

“Five o’clock,” Ross repeated, praying not to need her sooner. “Wish me luck.”

“Luck,” she said.

He grabbed his bag from behind the passenger’s seat and headed inside.

Chelsea flashed him an awkward smile as he passed the reception desk and immediately put the phone to her ear. She spoke softly, her eyes on him as if she’d sounded a silent alarm.

Ross expected security, Guy, or both any minute.

It was hard not to be paranoid after the day before’s hasty departure. He hurried down the first floor hallway, left his things in his office, and headed upstairs.

The community room bustled with early morning chatter. All of the patients, except for Lila, had gathered to eat.

“Good morning, Dr. Reeves.” Kendra winked and smiled.

“Good morning, Kendra.” He barely glanced in her direction, careful not to encourage her.

Sophie, the pale-skinned goth, sat in the corner recliner, sketching a picture in her black leather journal. She licked her fingertip and smudged the charcoal that covered her hands and face.

Josh sat on an area rug in the center of the floor, transfixed by a cartoon, rubbing his finger inside of his ear.

Mark refilled the orange juice pitcher on the breakfast cart. “Hey, Dr. Reeves.”

“Mark, just the man I was looking for.”

“Coffee?” Mark filled a cup from the carafe and held it out to him.

“Thanks.”

He poured a second for himself. “Cream? Sugar?”

“Black, please. Is there someplace we can talk? I need a favor.”

Elijah stormed up to them before Mark had a chance to answer. “Where’s my sanitizer?” He crossed his arms and closed in on Mark who was easily twice his size.

Mark kept his calm, backing up and continuing to line up the individually wrapped pastries on a tray. “We’re not going to go over this again, Elijah. Dr. Oliver said no more.”

“That doesn’t make
any
sense. Dr. Oliver isn’t here.”

Ross glanced at Mark for confirmation, unable to believe his luck.

“He’s running late,” Mark said. “He’ll be here shortly.”

“What am I supposed to do until then? How am I supposed to touch those
things
after you, the factory workers, the packagers, the delivery people, and God knows who else touched them? Do you have
any
idea how many hands have been on that plastic? I could die from the germs on the wrappers alone.”

“I had no idea I was taking my life in my own hands.” Mark shook a cheese Danish in Elijah’s direction. “You’ll be fine.”

Ross suppressed a smile.

“Dr. Reeves, please. I need my sanitizer.”

It was an argument he wasn’t prepared to get in the middle of.

“I can’t change Dr. Oliver’s orders, Elijah. I’m sorry.” He stared at Elijah’s flaky skin, imagining the pain of a bleach-induced full-body peel. “If Mark says Dr. Oliver forbids sanitizer, then I have to honor that.”

“I can’t eat breakfast without it.
Please,
” Elijah begged.

Joshua shushed him over his shoulder.

Sophie rolled her eyes.

Kendra stared, but her sightline seemed aimed more at Ross’s ass than the argument.

Ross was dealing with a no-win situation. “I’ll discuss it with Dr. Oliver when he arrives.”

Elijah looked on the verge of tears. “Mark, please. What am I supposed to do here?”

“I can offer you a pair of disposable gloves. That’s meeting you halfway.”

“Dr. Reeves,
everyone
sticks their hands in the box to grab gloves. This is ridiculous!” Elijah insisted.

“Show Doc your hands,” Mark said. Elijah hesitated. “Go on. Show him.”

Elijah uncrossed his arms and held out his hands.

“That is
nasty
,” Kendra said, making a face.

The freshly healing skin had blistered, several of the blisters having burst, some to the point of bleeding. Dried blood caked the spaces between Elijah’s fingers.

“Okay.” Ross set down his coffee. “I agree with Dr. Oliver on this one. No more sanitizer. Mark, get Elijah an oral antihistamine and some cold compresses. Elijah, that’s contact dermatitis. If you want gloves, you can have them. I’ll even have Mark give you a brand new box to pull from.”

“But—”

“Gloves or nothing.”

“
Fine
,” Elijah said, “but it has to be a new box.”

Mark swiped his keycard and opened the door to a secure storage area at the end of the hallway. “I can handle grabbing a box of gloves.”

“I know,” Ross said. “But—”

“This about that favor?”

Ross nodded. “I wouldn’t ask if there was anyone else.”

“And you figure not turning me in to Dr. Oliver means maybe I owe you one?”

“I’m not like that, Mark. You don’t owe me anything, but since you’ve been to Merrick Memorial, you’re the only one who can do this.”

“Do what?”

“Get me Blake Wheeler’s hospital records.”

“Oh, is that all?” Mark rolled his eyes. “What part of ‘restricted’ don’t you get?”

“You said you knew someone at the hospital.”

“I also said I couldn’t get any more information, but you didn’t seem to hear that part. Besides, I don’t
know
them, I
met
them.”

“If you get in touch with this person, they could know someone willing to help, right?” Ross knew the privacy rules, but knew there was always someone willing to bend them. “This is basically a physician-to-physician discussion during the course of treating a patient. There are no rules about that—”

“
If
you’re treating the same patient. Lila isn’t Blake, Doc. You know this.”

“The only thing I know is, without the information, I’m sunk as far as Lila is concerned.”

“I’m curious, what could be worth putting two jobs on the line, three if you count yours? Did Lila tell you something?”

“You know better.”

Mark’s eyes went wide. “Ruth Wheeler. You called the mother-in-law.”

“I told you I had a feeling about her.”

“And?” Mark waved for Ross to get to the juicy part. “If you want me to help you, spill it.”

“Okay, fine. You want to know the big secret? Here it is: Lila pulled the plug on her husband.”

“Really? I didn’t see that one coming.”

“Me either. I have five weeks left with Lila and very little to go on. Can you help me or not?”

“No promises, Doc, but if I were you, I’d make a personal plea. Track down Blake Wheeler’s admitting physician.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“I think you have bigger problems,” Mark said. “Turn around.”

“What?”

“Turn. Around.”

Ross looked over his shoulder to see Guy heading straight for them.

“I’m going to bring this box of gloves to Elijah. It looks like you have some explaining to do.”

“Ross, in my office. Now,” Guy said.

As much as Ross didn’t want to go, he knew he had no choice.

He made the long walk downstairs, his heart pounding in his chest.

Guy’s office was like a vacuum, sucking the air from Ross’s lungs.

Guy sat at the edge of his chair, wearing his buttoned lab coat and a blue dress shirt, his elbows on his desk and his fingertips touching. His lips pressed together in a thin line that deepened the wrinkles in his face. “Where do we start?”

Ross’s leg bounced up and down and his palms started to sweat. “I should have talked to you before I left yesterday. I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.” Guy opened his hands. “If you had bothered to talk to me we could have straightened this out before now. I didn’t set ground rules, Ross. I trusted you to use good judgment and what did you do? You nearly let Lila drown. She could have been killed.”

“I wouldn’t let anything happen to her.”

“And yet something
did
happen. I don’t know which is worse, the lack of precaution or the fact that you lied to me.”

“I—”

“Psychiatric patients are unpredictable, Ross. Had you said Lila went into the water, I’d have understood that. You went in after her and dragged her out. The fact that you tried to make it look like some kind of accident makes me not trust you. Lila told me it was all her fault. Why cover for her?”

“I panicked.”

“You played the odds she wasn’t going to say anything.”

Ross would have denied it, if it weren’t true. “Is she all right?”

“She’s fine, but that’s not the point. I’ve been trying to reach Dan all morning.”

“Dan? Why?”

“The lie was one thing. Forgivable, maybe, under the circumstances, but the call from Ruth Wheeler … I explained the situation to you, Ross. I
need
her.”

“I was trying to do the right thing. You asked me to help Lila and I can’t do that if I don’t know her story.”

Guy leaned back in his chair. “It’s too late. You know, I could have encouraged Dan to fire you. That would have freed you up to come here, too, but more than you being my former student, I thought we were friends. I’ll let you know if Dan says you’re clear to return early. It’s the best I can do.”

“You’re sending me back to Chicago?”

“I’m not
sending you
anywhere. You’re a grown man. I only want to see that Chicago is an option. It seems the right thing to do, all things considered.”

“What about Lila?”

“I really thought you could get through to her.”

“I
can
. I
was.
She’s eating, isn’t she? And she talked to you. What more do you want? It’s only been two days.”

“I’ll admit you made progress faster than I had expected.”

“Then let me prove that I am on the right track.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“There’s more to Blake’s death than the shooting, something that explains why Lila feels guilty.”

“Go on.”

“What if I told you Lila had her husband removed from life support, maybe even unnecessarily?”

“Then I’d tell you that you have a week to find out why. Consider it a probationary period.”

“You won’t regret it.”

“I had better not and, Ross,” Guy said as Ross stood to leave, “Keep Lila away from the water.”

Seven days.

Somehow Ross’s deadline kept shrinking.

He had run every scenario with what little information he had, but without Lila’s cooperation, the missing pieces turned every possibility involving Dr. Jeremy Davis into a Movie of the Week.

There was nothing to do but attempt brutal honesty.

Walking into Lila’s room, Ross prepared to lay his cards on the table.

Lila sat cross-legged in the center of her bed, a book open in front of her. The clothes she had worn into the lake hung from the edge of her bathroom door, misshapen from having dried there. Her shoes were caked with mud.

“May I come in?” he said.

Lila nodded, tucked her hair behind her right ear, and continued reading. Her eyes moved back and forth across the page, her lids shimmering with pearlescent shadow. A faint blush tinted her cheeks and her lips were painted a pale coral.

Ross took a seat at her bedside. “Lila, will you put the book away? I have something to tell you.”

Lila closed her book and looked up. Her straightened hair hung loose over her shoulders and framed her face, already showing the benefit of a few solid meals.

“How are you doing today?”

After what they had been through, he had hoped they were past the silent treatment.

When Lila said nothing, he knew better.

It was time for his ace in the hole.

“Do you know why Dr. Oliver brought me here?” Ross’s chest tightened as he prepared to come clean. Lila held eye contact, which, from her, was as close to curiosity as he figured he was going to get. “My wife died.” It was easier to say after his night with Camille, but no less painful. “Dr. Oliver thinks I can help you because of what I went through.” Lila blinked twice, and drew in a breath. A long silence followed before Ross spoke again. “Aren’t you going to say something? I was nearly fired because of you.” 

“I’m sorry.” Lila finally let her guard down.

“About?”

“Your wife, the lake. All of it. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“I don’t believe that,” Ross said. “You seemed well aware. I can help you, Lila, if you’ll let me.”

“How?”

“We can start with you telling me why you went in the lake.”

“Honestly?” Lila worked the crocheted blanket between her fingers. “I intended to drown. I walked out until my head went under and waited for the water to fill my lungs. I was at peace, floating, until I felt your hand. You grabbed my sleeve and pulled me to you … you lifted me … and I didn’t want you to know how ready I was to not come up for air.”

“Sometimes grief feels like that.”

“Just sometimes?” Lila wiped a tear from her cheek.

“Most of the time,” Ross reluctantly admitted.

“Can I ask, what happened to your wife?”

“I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll talk if you will, but what’s said is between us. Doctors sharing information with patients is frowned upon.”

“Even if that’s the reason you were hired?”

“I think the expectation was that I’d use my personal experience as guidance, not tell you about it. Do we have a deal?”

“We have a deal. So how did she die?”

“Stage four colon cancer. We caught it too late.”

“How long ago?”

“Five years.”

“Tell me it gets easier.”

Ross sighed. “I wish I could.”