The medicine cabinet in the bathroom was exactly as it had been two weeks earlier: a mess. It contained nothing that was suspicious. Getting down on her hands and knees, Cassi searched beneath the sink. Nothing. Then she went through the towel cabinets. Again nothing.
Feeling a modicum of relief, Cassi went back to the study itself Besides the desk and burgundy reading chair, there was the sofa bed, bordered by two end tables with lamps, a hassock, an entire wall of bookshelves, a liquor cabinet, and an antique highboy with claw feet. The floor was covered with an enormous Tabriz carpet.
Cassi walked over to the desk. It was an imposing piece of furniture, which she knew had belonged to Thomas’s grandfather. As she reached out and touched the cool surface, she had the same naughty sensation she’d felt as a child, snooping in her parents’ bedroom. Shrugging her shoulders, she pulled out the center drawer. A plastic desk organizer was filled to overflowing with rubber bands, paper clips, and other odds and ends. She pulled the drawer out to its limit and carefully lifted the layers of papers toward the back. Nothing out of the ordinary. Satisfied, Cassi was about to push it closed when she thought she heard a door slam. Peering through the window, she could see the lights in Patricia’s apartment over the garage. She hadn’t heard a car, but that wasn’t too surprising. With the storm windows down, sounds from the outside did not penetrate the house too easily. She could see the garage door was closed. Had she closed it? She couldn’t remember. A moment later there were footsteps in the hall. Panic knotted her stomach. Obviously Thomas had come home. If he caught her in his study after the episode with Patricia, he’d be furious. She looked around frantically, wondering if she could slip out through the spare room. But before she could move, the door opened.
It was Patricia. She was as surprised to find Cassi as Cassi her. The two women stared at each other in disbelief “What are you doing in here?” Patricia said finally.
“I was about to ask you the same question,” returned Cassi, standing behind the desk.
“I saw the light go on in here. Naturally, I thought Thomas had come home after all. As his mother I think I’m entitled to see him.”
Cassi unconsciously nodded as if she agreed. Actually it had been a constant source of irritation for her that Patricia had a key to the house and felt no compunction about entering whenever she wanted.
“That’s my excuse,” said Patricia. “What’s yours?”
Cassi knew she should have simply replied that it was her home and she could go into any room she pleased. But she didn’t. Her sense of guilt made it impossible.
“I suppose I can guess,” said Patricia disdainfully, “even though it upsets me. Snooping through his possessions like this when he’s in the hospital saving lives! What kind of a wife are you?”
Patricia’s question hung in the air like static electricity. Cassi didn’t try to answer. She’d begun to wonder herself what kind of a wife she was.
“I think you should leave this room at once,” rasped Patricia.
Cassi didn’t object. She walked past her mother-in-law with her head bowed. Patricia followed her out and closed the door. Without looking back, Cassi descended the stairs and headed for the kitchen. She heard the front door close and presumed Patricia had left. The woman would tell Thomas that Cassi had been in his study. It was inevitable.
She looked at the meal Harriet had left on the stove with distaste, but she knew that after taking her normal insulin dose she required a certain amount of calories. Forcing down the warmed-over food, she made up her mind to return to the study and finish her search. Having already been caught, she no longer had anything to fear except what she’d find.
There was still the chance Thomas could appear, but Cassi was prepared to listen for the sounds of the Porsche. In order to keep from having to face Patricia again, Cassi pulled the heavy drapes over the windows, and she used a flashlight, like a real burglar. She went directly to the desk and tried the side drawers, starting at the top and working her way down. She didn’t have far to go. In the back of the second drawer inside a stationery box, Cassi found a collection of plastic pill containers. Some were empty, but most were full. All of them had the same prescribing M.D., a Dr. Allan Baxter. The dates were all within the past three months.