Cassi’s other roommates, who had been listening, enthusiastically concurred.
Cassi hoped she hadn’t scared the three women, but in a way it made her feel more comfortable that they would be watching her. If it were true that she had given herself an overdose without knowing it, she could use a little nervous concern.
She closed her eyes and wondered when Robert’s funeral was. She hoped she’d be released in time to go. Then she thought of the SSD project and wondered what would happen to it. Remembering the printouts she’d taken from his room, she decided to see if someone could locate them for her.
She rang for the nurse, who promised to check Cassi’s former room. A half-hour later, the nurse returned and said that the two LPNs who had helped move Cassi had not seen the computer printout. The nurse added that she’d checked all the drawers herself without success.
Maybe the SSD data had been a hallucination, too, thought Cassi. She seemed to recall going into Robert’s room, picking up the material, and then bumping into Thomas. But perhaps it was all a dream. Cassi wondered how she could check. The easiest way would be to ask Thomas, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to do that.
Glancing around the room, Cassi was glad to see her three roommates getting ready for dinner. Just having them there made her feel safe.
Thomas stopped short of the bridge over the marsh inlet. He switched off the engine and checked for any traffic before opening the door. Getting out of the car, he walked out onto the arched wooden bridge, his shoes making a hollow noise on the old planks. The tide was on its way out and the current rushed beneath the small bridge, swirling in frenetic eddies about the support pilings.
Thomas needed a breath of air. The two Talwin he’d taken before leaving the office had had disappointingly little effect on his mood. He’d never felt such anxiety before. The Friday afternoon conference had been a disaster. And on top of that were the mushrooming problems with Cassi.
Thomas stood on the deserted bridge for almost half an hour, letting the damp breeze chill him to the bone. The discomfort was therapeutic, making it possible for him to think. He had to do something. Ballantine and his cohorts were intent on destroying everything Thomas had carefully built.
In his hand he gripped a drug vial, intending to throw it into the water. But he didn’t. Instead he returned it to his coat.
Slowly Thomas felt better. He had an idea, and as the idea took form, he began to smile. Then he laughed, wondering why he hadn’t thought of it before. With a new surge of energy he returned to his car and warmed his fingers by holding them over the defroster vent.
After pulling into the garage, he crossed the courtyard to the house at a run. He moved the drug container to his suit pocket when he took off his coat and, feeling better than he had all day, went in to greet his mother.
“I’m so glad you’re on time,” she said. “Harriet is just putting dinner on the table.” She took his arm and led him into the dining room. He knew she was in a good mood because she had him to herself, but she managed to inquire politely about Cassi before serving herself from the platter of Yankee pot roast.
When Harriet had gone back into the kitchen, she began asking about Thomas’s day.
“Are things going better at the hospital?”
“Hardly,” said Thomas, not eager to discuss the worsening hospital situation.
“Have you spoken with George Sherman?” asked Patricia with disgust.
“Mother, I don’t want to talk about hospital politics.”
They ate in silence for a few minutes, but Patricia could not contain herself and again spoke up. “You’ll know what to do with the man when you become chief.”
Thomas put down his fork.
“Mother, can’t we talk about something else?”
“It’s hard to avoid the issue when I can see how much it is bothering you.”
Thomas tried to calm himself with a series of deep breaths. Patricia could see him tremble.