the pediatrics journals. They videotaped mothers smothering babies,
and all they had were suspicions.”
“They taped at home?”
“In the hospital.”
“Big difference. And for all I know, the law’s different in England.
. Let me think on it, Alex. See if there’s anything creative we can
do. In the meantime I’ll start playing with local records, NCIC, on
the off chance that any of them has been naughty to crack. Charlie has
managed to hack into some of the military files, but nothing fancy,
just VA. benefits, cross-referencing, that kind of stuff.”
“What do you guys do, play around with confidential data banks?”
“More like he plays, I watch. Where does the father teach?”
“West Valley Community College. Sociology.”
“What about mom? Any job?”
“No, she’s a full-time mom.”
“Takes her job seriously, huh. Okay, give me a name to work with.”
“Jones.”
He looked at me.
I nodded.
His laughter was deep and loud, almost drunken.
The next morning, I arrived at the hospital at 9:45. The doctors’ lot
was nearly full and I had to drive up to the top level to find a
space.
A uniformed guard was leaning against a concrete abutment,
halfconcealed by shadows, smoking a cigarette. He kept his eyes on me
as I got out of the Seville and didn’t stop looking until I’d snapped
my new badge to my lapel.
The private ward was as quiet as it had been yesterday. A single nurse
sat at the desk and the unit clerk read McCalis’.
I read Cassie’s chart. Stephanie had been by for morning rounds,
reported Cassie symptom-free but decided to keep her in for at least
another day. I went to sosW knocked, and entered.
Cindy Jones and Vicki Bottomley were sitting on the sleeper couch. A
deck of cards rested in Vicki’s lap. The two of them looked up.
Cindy smiled. “Good morning.
“Good morning.”
Vicki said, “Okay,” and stood.
Cassie’s bed had been cranked to an upright position. She sat playing
with a Fisher-Price house. Other amusements, including a quorum of
LuvBunnies, were scattered on the bedcover. A breakfast tray held a
bowl of partially eaten oatmeal and a plastic cup of something red.
Cartoon action flashed on the TV but the sound was off. Cassie was
preoccupied with the house, arranging furniture and plastic figures.
An I.V pole was pushed into a corner.
I placed a new drawing on the bed. She glanced at it for a moment,
then returned to her play.
Vicki was in rapid motion, handing the cards to Cindy, then clasping
Cindy’s hand briefly between both of hers. Avoiding eye contact with
me, she walked over to the bed, tousled Cassie’s head, and said, “See
you, punkin.”
Cassie looked up for an instant. Vicki tousled her hair again and
left.
Cindy stood. A pink blouse replaced yesterday’s plaid. Same jeans and
sandals.
“let’s see, what did Dr. Delaware draw for you today?”
She picked up the drawing. Cassie reached out and took it from her.
Cindy put an arm around her shoulder. An elephant! Dr. Delaware drew
you a cute blue elephant!”
Cassie brought the paper closer. “Eh-fa.”
“Good, Cass, that’s great! Did you hear that, Dr. Delaware?
Elephant?”
I nodded. “Terrific.”
“I don’t know what you did, Dr. Delaware, but since yesterday she’s
been talking more. Cass, can you say elephant again?”
Cassie closed her mouth and crumpled the paper.
Cindy said, “Oh, my,” cuddled her and stroked her cheek. Both of us
watched Cassie labor to unfold the picture.
When she finally succeeded she said, “Eh-fa!” compressed the paper
again, tighter, into a fist-sized ball, then looked at it, perplexed.
Cindy said, “Sorry, Dr. Delaware. Looks like your elephant isn’t
doing too well.”
“Looks like Cassie is.”
She forced a smile and nodded.
Cassie made another attempt to straighten the paper. This time,
thimble-sized fingers weren’t up to the task and Cindy helped her.
“There you go, honey. . . Yes, she’s feeling great.”
Any problems with procedures?”
“There haven’t been any procedures. Not since yesterday morning.
We’ve just been sitting here-it’s.
“Something the matter?” I said.
She brought her braid forward and smoothed the fringe.
“People must think I’m crazy,” she said.
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