“Something I picked up for you at church. I thought you might like to look at it.”
“Forget church,” she said.
“Why?”
“Because it’s forgotten me. It thinks people like me are aberrant, as if I should go to hell or jail for the way I am.
That’s what I’m talking about. You don’t know what it’s like to be isolated.”
“Lucy, I’ve been isolated most of my life. You don’t even know what discrimination is until you’re one of only three women in your medical school class. Or in law school, the men won’t share their notes if you’re sick and miss class. That’s why I don’t get sick. That’s why I don’t get drunk and hide in bed.” I sounded hard because I knew I needed to be.
“This is different,” she said.
“I think you want to believe it’s different so you can make excuses and feel sorry for yourself,” I said. “It seems to me that the person doing all of the forgetting and rejecting here is you. It’s not the church. It’s not society. It’s not even Janet’s parents, who simply may not understand.
I thought you were stronger than this.”
“I am strong.”
“Well, I’ve had enough,” I said. “Don’t you come to my house and get drunk and pull the covers over your head so that I worry about you all day. And then when I try to help, you push me and everyone else away.”
She was silent as she stared at me. Finally she said, “Did you really go to church because of me?”
“I went because of me,” I said. “But you were the main topic of conversation.”
She threw the covers off. . “A person’s chief end is to glorify God and enjoy God forever,’ ” she said as she got up.
I paused in her doorway.
“Catechism. Using inclusive language, of course. I had a religion course at UVA. Do you want dinner?”
“What would you like?” I said.
“Whatever’s easy.” She came over and hugged me.
“Aunt Kay, I’m sorry,” she said.
In the kitchen I opened the freezer first and was not inspired by anything I saw. Next I looked inside the refrigerator, but my appetite had gone into hiding along with my peace of mind. I ate a banana and made a pot of coffee. At half past eight, the base station on the counter startled me.
“Unit six hundred to base station one,” Marino’s voice came over the air.
I picked up the microphone and answered him, “Base station one.”
“Can you call me at a number””
“Give it to me,” I said, and I had a bad feeling.
It was possible the radio frequency used by my office could be monitored, and whenever a case was especially sensitive, the detectives tried to keep all of us off the air.
The number Marino gave me was for a pay phone.
When he answered, he said, “Sorry, I didn’t have any change.”
“What’s going on?” I didn’t waste time.
“I’m skipping the M.E. on call because I knew you’d want us to get hold of you first.”
“What is it?”
“Shit, Doc, I’m really sorry. But we’ve got Danny.”
“Danny?” I said in confusion.
“Danny Webster. From your Norfolk office.”
“What do you mean you’ve got him?” I was gripped by fear. “What did he do?” I imagined he had gotten arrested driving my car. Or maybe he had wrecked it.
Marino said, “Doc, he’s dead.”
Then there was silence on his end and mine.
“Oh God.” I leaned against the counter and shut my eyes. “Oh my God,” I said. “What happened?”
“Look, I think the best thing is for you to get down here.
“Where are you?”
“Sugar Bottom, where the old train tunnel is. Your car’s about a block uphill at Libby Hill Park.” I asked nothing further but told Lucy I was leaving and probably would not be home until late. I grabbed my medical bag and my pistol, for I was familiar with the skid row part of town where the tunnel was, and I could not imagine what might have lured Danny there. He and his friend were to have driven my car and Lucy’s Suburban to my office, where my administrator was to meet them in back and give them a ride to the bus station. Certainly, Church Hill was not far from the OCME, but I could not imagine why Danny would have driven anywhere in my Mercedes other than where he knew he was to be. He did not seem the type to abuse my trust.