Devil’s Waltz. By: Jonathan Kellerman

it.

He seemed impervious.

“I minored in psych,” he said, smiling. “Forgot most of it.” To

Cindy: “How’s everything?”

“Bout the same.”

He frowned. Looked at his wrist. Another Swatch.

Cindy said, “On the run?”

“Unfortunately. Just wanted to see your faces.” He picked up the

coffee cup and held it out to her.

“No, thanks.”

“You’re sure?”

“Nah, I’m fine.”

“Stomach?”

She touched her abdomen and said, just feeling a little woozy.

How long can you stay?”

“In and out,” he said. “Got a twelve o’clock class, then meetings for

the rest of the day probably dumb to drive all the way over, but I

missed you guys.”

Cindy smiled.

Chip kissed her, then Cassie.

Cindy said, “Daddy can’t stay, Cass. Bummer, huh?”

“Dali-dee.”

Chip gave Cassie’s chin a gentle tweak. She continued playing with his

beard. “I’ll try to kick by later this evening. Stay as long as you

need me.”

“Great,” said Cindy.

“Dali-d’e.”

“Dali-dee,” said Chip. “Dali-dee love you. You cute.” To Cindy: “Not

a good idea at all, coming for two minutes. Now I’m really gonna miss

you.”

“We miss you too, Daddy.”

“I was in the neighborhood,” he said. “So to speak-this side of the

hill, at least.”

“The U?”

“Yup. Library duty.” He turned to me: “I teach over at West Valley

C.C. New campus, not much in terms of reference resources.

So when I have some serious research to do, I go over to the

university.”

“My alma mater,” I said.

“That so? I went to school back east.” He tickled Cassie’s belly.

“Get any sleep at all, Cin?”

“Plenty.”

“Sure?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Want’ some herb tea? I think I’ve got some chamomile in the car.”

“No, thanks, lion. Dr. Delaware has some techniques to help Cassie

deal with the p-a-in.”

Chip looked at me while stroking Cassie’s arm. “That would be

terrific.

This has been an incredible ordeal.” His eyes were slate-blue with a

slight droop, very deep-set.

“I know it has,” I said.

Chip and Cindy looked at each other, then at me.

“Well,” I said, “I’ll be shoving off now. Come by to see you tomorrow

morning.”

I bent and whispered goodbye to Cassie. She batted her lashes and

turned away.

Chip laughed. “What a flirt. It’s inborn, isn’t it?”

Cindy said, “Your techniques. When can we talk about that?”

“Soon,” I said. “First I need to get a rapport with Cassie. I think

we did pretty well today.”

“Oh. Sure. We did great. Didn’t we, pudding?”

“Is ten o’clock a good time for you?”

“Sure,” said Cindy. “We’re not going anywhere.”

Chip looked at her and said, “Dr. Eves didn’t say anything about

discharge?”

“Not yet. She wants to keep observing.”

He sighed. “Okay.”

I walked to the door.

Chip said, “I’ve got to be running, myself, Doctor. If you can hold on

for one sec, I’ll walk out with you.”

“Sure.”

He took his wife’s hand.

I closed the door, walked to the nursing station, and went behind the

desk. Vicki Bottomley was back from the gift shop, sitting in the unit

clerk’s chair, reading RN. No one else was around.

A box wrapped with Western Peds gift-shop paper sat on the counter,

next to a coil of catheter tubing and a stack of insurance forms.

She didn’t look up as I lifted Cassie’s chart from the rack and began

leafing through. I skimmed through the medical history and came upon

Stephanie’s psychosocial history. Wondering about the age difference

between Chip and Cindy, I looked up his biographical data.

Charles L. Jones in. Age: 38. Educational level.” Master’s d’gree.

Occupation: College professor Sensing someone looking at me, I lowered

the chart and saw Vicki whipping her head back toward her magazine.

“So,” I said, “how were things down in the gift shop?”

She lowered the journal. “Is there something specific you need from

me?”

Anything that would help me work with Cassie’s anxiety.”

Her pretty eyes narrowed. “Dr. Eves already asked me that. You were

right here.” just wondering if something occurred to you in the

meantime.

“Nothing ociurr’d,” she said, “I don’t know anything I’m just the

nurse.”

“The nurse often knows more than anybody.”

“Tell it to the salary committee.” She lifted the magazine high,

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