but I think I met her once or twice in the cafeteria. Thank God they caught that bastard." He sprayed some saline over my wrist to wash the blood away. "I hear half the nurses on the psych ward called in sick. We're short down here, too. I can't imagine what this place would be like if the guy was still out there."
"Let's hope things settle down."
"He's real crazy, huh? The paper said he cut her up."
I didn't want to get into it. "We only talked a few minutes."
"Oh." He looked up at me, then back down. He put in another stitch, tied it and cut it loose. His brow furrowed. "This being a work-related injury, I guess I don't need to ask the standard questions."
I watched the needle pierce my skin again. "Standard questions?"
"You know. There's a whole protocol that goes along with wrist lacerations. I'm even supposed to get a psychiatric consultation. But since you are a psychiatrist — and a friend — I figure you'd tell me if I should be worried about you."
"Worried? You're not thinking I'm suicidal? "
"It's routine to ask."
"Nels, I didn't try to off myself. I'm too narcissistic to even think about it. I'm more likely to try cloning myself."
He smiled and cut the nylon thread over his last knot. He had put in five stitches. "I just wanted to make sure, with Kathy and everything." He dropped the needle on a plastic tray and peeled off his gloves. "Not that you two haven't had your ups and downs before."
"I didn't know the rumor mill here was so goddamn efficient."
"Trevor's as discreet as a bonfire."
"Trevor? He's old news."
He folded the surgical drapes in on themselves, threw them in a laundry bin and walked over to the sink to wash up. "He, fuck him."
"Nels..."
He turned around and looked at me. "Why don't we grab coffee or something?"
"Save the bedside manner for grieving relatives. Just tell me."
"Tell you." He exhaled audibly, then leaned back against the sink. "OK. I was covering Buck Berenson's shift last night. I get a kid with a bad facial laceration — ran through a glass door. So I call Trevor in for the plastics. I don't happen to like him. I think he's nuts. But he's a gifted surgeon, no denying that. If I got hurt, he's the one I'd want working on me. Anyhow, he gets here maybe eight, nine o'clock and starts rushing me... You sure you don't want to get a quick coffee?"
"Thank you. No."
"No problem." He looked at the floor. "I call Trevor, and he comes in and starts saying how he wants to get through the job on the kid fast, because..."
"Spit it out."
"Because he's got Kathy back at the house waiting for him." He looked at me like he'd just told me I had cancer.
I let my breath out all at once. "I should have seen that coming."
"I feel like an asshole," he said, shaking his head. "It wasn't my place to say anything."
"I'd rather hear it sooner than later."
"you want to talk?"
"There's nothing to say. Kathy was close with Sarah Johnston. Where she takes comfort is her own business." I rolled down my sleeve and stood to go.
"You sure there's nothing I can do?"
"There is one thing."
"Shoot."
"Let me know if anything odd walks through the door. Scratch marks. Bit wounds. Signs of a struggle."
"That's not a reassuring request from someone working on Lynn's latest murder. They do have the right guy, don't they?"
"I think we'll know soon enough."
* * *
I went into the men's room and locked the door. I let the cold water run, then doused my face again and again. I needed to stay awake and to stay in control, but my mind kept flipping through images of Trevor and Kathy together. Even taking the sudden loss of Sarah into account, I couldn’t make sense of her shacking up again over my cocaine. What kind of insulation from the randomness of the universe could she hope for spending the night with a playboy? Unless randomness —
"Let's hope things settle down."
"He's real crazy, huh? The paper said he cut her up."
I didn't want to get into it. "We only talked a few minutes."
"Oh." He looked up at me, then back down. He put in another stitch, tied it and cut it loose. His brow furrowed. "This being a work-related injury, I guess I don't need to ask the standard questions."
I watched the needle pierce my skin again. "Standard questions?"
"You know. There's a whole protocol that goes along with wrist lacerations. I'm even supposed to get a psychiatric consultation. But since you are a psychiatrist — and a friend — I figure you'd tell me if I should be worried about you."
"Worried? You're not thinking I'm suicidal? "
"It's routine to ask."
"Nels, I didn't try to off myself. I'm too narcissistic to even think about it. I'm more likely to try cloning myself."
He smiled and cut the nylon thread over his last knot. He had put in five stitches. "I just wanted to make sure, with Kathy and everything." He dropped the needle on a plastic tray and peeled off his gloves. "Not that you two haven't had your ups and downs before."
"I didn't know the rumor mill here was so goddamn efficient."
"Trevor's as discreet as a bonfire."
"Trevor? He's old news."
He folded the surgical drapes in on themselves, threw them in a laundry bin and walked over to the sink to wash up. "He, fuck him."
"Nels..."
He turned around and looked at me. "Why don't we grab coffee or something?"
"Save the bedside manner for grieving relatives. Just tell me."
"Tell you." He exhaled audibly, then leaned back against the sink. "OK. I was covering Buck Berenson's shift last night. I get a kid with a bad facial laceration — ran through a glass door. So I call Trevor in for the plastics. I don't happen to like him. I think he's nuts. But he's a gifted surgeon, no denying that. If I got hurt, he's the one I'd want working on me. Anyhow, he gets here maybe eight, nine o'clock and starts rushing me... You sure you don't want to get a quick coffee?"
"Thank you. No."
"No problem." He looked at the floor. "I call Trevor, and he comes in and starts saying how he wants to get through the job on the kid fast, because..."
"Spit it out."
"Because he's got Kathy back at the house waiting for him." He looked at me like he'd just told me I had cancer.
I let my breath out all at once. "I should have seen that coming."
"I feel like an asshole," he said, shaking his head. "It wasn't my place to say anything."
"I'd rather hear it sooner than later."
"you want to talk?"
"There's nothing to say. Kathy was close with Sarah Johnston. Where she takes comfort is her own business." I rolled down my sleeve and stood to go.
"You sure there's nothing I can do?"
"There is one thing."
"Shoot."
"Let me know if anything odd walks through the door. Scratch marks. Bit wounds. Signs of a struggle."
"That's not a reassuring request from someone working on Lynn's latest murder. They do have the right guy, don't they?"
"I think we'll know soon enough."
* * *
I went into the men's room and locked the door. I let the cold water run, then doused my face again and again. I needed to stay awake and to stay in control, but my mind kept flipping through images of Trevor and Kathy together. Even taking the sudden loss of Sarah into account, I couldn’t make sense of her shacking up again over my cocaine. What kind of insulation from the randomness of the universe could she hope for spending the night with a playboy? Unless randomness —
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