Fatal Cure by Robin Cook. Chapter 15, 16, 17

Since most of the shops were closing for the night, Calhoun crossed the street and headed for the Iron Horse Inn. It was an establishment that held many pleasant memories for him. It had been his wife’s favorite restaurant for special-occasion dinners, like celebrating anniversaries and birthdays.

Carleton Harris, the bartender, recognized Calhoun from across the room. By the time Calhoun got to the bar a glass of Wild Turkey neat was waiting for him. Carleton even drew half a mug’s worth of draft beer for himself so they could clink glasses in a toast.

“Working on anything interesting these days?” Carleton asked after downing his spot of beer.

“I think so,” Calhoun said. He leaned in toward the bar and Carleton instinctively did the same.

Angela didn’t say a word to David and avoided eye contact as they got ready for bed. David guessed that Angela was still irritated about the basement prank with the Halloween masks. He disliked moodiness and wanted to clear the air.

“I’m getting the message you’re still upset about Nikki and me scaring you,” he said. “Can’t we talk about it?”

“What makes you say I’m angry?” Angela asked innocently.

“Come on, Angela,” David said. “You’ve been giving me the silent treatment ever since Nikki went to bed.”

“I suppose I’m disappointed you’d do such a thing when you know how upset I am about that body. I would have thought you’d have been more sensitive.”

“I said I was sorry,” David said. “I still can’t believe you just didn’t laugh the second you saw us. It never occurred to me you’d get as frightened as you did. Besides, it wasn’t just an idle prank. I did it for Nikki’s benefit.”

“What do you mean?” Angela asked skeptically.

“With the nightmares she’s been having, I thought it would help to treat the subject with humor. It was a ruse to get her in the basement without being afraid. And it worked: she was so focused on surprising you, she didn’t think about her fears.”

“You could have at least warned me.”

“I didn’t think I had to. Like I said, I never thought you’d be fooled. And the conspiratorial nature of the activity is what got Nikki so involved.”

Angela eyed her husband. She could tell he was remorseful as well as sincere. Suddenly she felt more embarrassed she’d fallen for the trick than angry. She put down her toothbrush and went over to David and gave him a hug. “I’m sorry I got so mad,” she said. “I guess I’m stressed out. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” David echoed. “I should have told you what we were doing. You could have pretended not to know. I just didn’t think. I’ve been so distracted lately. I feel so stressed out, too. Mary Ann Schiller is no better. She’s going to die. I just know it.”

“Come on now,” Angela said. “You can never be sure.”

“I don’t know about that,” David said. “Come on, let’s get to bed.” As they finished washing he told Angela about his professor’s having driven all the way from Boston and that even he had nothing to add.

“Are you any more depressed?” Angela asked.

“About the same,” David said. “I woke up at four-fifteen this morning and couldn’t go back to sleep. I keep thinking there’s something I’m missing with these patients; maybe they’ve picked up some unknown viral disease. But I feel as though my hands are tied. It’s so frustrating to have to think about Kelley and CMV every time I order a test or a consult. It’s gotten so bad that I even feel like I have to rush through my daily office schedule.”

“You mean to see more patients?” Angela asked. They moved from the bathroom into the bedroom.

David nodded. “More pressure from CMV via Kelley,” he said. “I hate to admit it, but what it means is that I have to avoid talking with patients and answering their questions. It’s not hard because it’s easy to bully patients, but I don’t like it. I wonder if the patients realize they are being shortchanged. A lot of critical clues for making the right diagnosis come from the kind of spontaneous comments patients make when you spend a little time with them.”

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