Read Online Move to Strike by Perri O'Shaughnessy - Free Book Online

business?”
    “No.”
    Nina wrote down the partner’s name and details about the clinic location. They would need to go there soon.
    “Did you know your son—Christopher—was coming up to Tahoe on Saturday night?” she asked Beth.
    Beth took a minute to answer, and appeared to be deep in thought. She may have simply been giving herself time to contain her feelings. “I didn’t know but we loved having Chris home. We encouraged him to visit anytime.”
    “Was he coming specifically to visit his father?”
    “Maybe he thought he would catch both of us. He didn’t know I was down there visiting a girlfriend. We were just going to shop, go to a movie, that kind of thing. It was such a quick trip, and it was getting close to his finals, so I didn’t expect to see him. I hadn’t spoken to him for a couple of days.”
    “Isn’t it unusual for a boy his age . . .” Nina consulted her notes again, but before she could find the answer, Beth spoke again.
    “Chris was only nineteen.”
    “Isn’t it unusual,” Nina continued, this time very gently, “for someone so young to charter his own plane?”
    “Not really,” Beth said. “No. Chris already had lived away from home for nearly two years. We always used charters so that we could keep our own schedules. He would be comfortable with that.”
    “What about the expense?”
    “Chris is . . .” she swallowed, and started again, her voice choked, “. . . was . . . a full-time student. We covered all of his expenses, and he knew we could afford it. He had our permission to charge anything he needed to one of our credit cards.”
    Daria, whose arms were crossed lightly across her chest, sighed. She had apparently been musing about Chris. “You know, you were such a great mom, Beth. You have nothing to knock yourself about. You were able to give that boy everything he ever wanted, and you did! Nobody could have loved him more. You gave him a happy life.”
    Stunned by this unintentionally brutal reduction of nineteen years of motherhood, Beth said, “Oh, Daria.” Putting her head into her hands, she wept again, this time inconsolably.
    Stepping inside Nina’s office, Sandy shut the door. Beth and Daria had gone, Beth still crying.
    “I expect a passel of people are out there waiting to see me . . .” Nina heaved out a breath, letting the emotions of the previous meeting go.
    “I need to tell you something before you find out for yourself,” Sandy said. She came in and sat down in the chair next to Nina’s. “It’s about Linda.”
    “Linda?”
    “Linda Littlebear. You came to my wedding. She was our minister.”
    “I remember. The Shoshone woman from Death Valley.”
    “Part Shoshone. Her mom was an Anglo park ranger originally from Virginia. Anyway, Linda sued him. Dr. Sykes.”
    “Really.”
    “Did you know people can die from plastic surgery?”
    “It makes sense,” Nina said, “but no, I don’t associate that kind of surgery with death. Who are you talking about, Sandy?”
    “Linda’s daughter Robin hated her nose, which was too much like Linda’s. Too Native looking. Too ethnic. She begged and begged for surgery. For years, Linda resisted, talked politics, talked sense. Finally, for her sixteenth birthday present, she gave in. Linda bought Robin a new nose. To make her happy, you know?”
    Nina nodded.
    “They went to Sykes but there were complications. Robin was in the operating room for seven hours. She died some hours later.”
    “How?”
    “She quit breathing. Happy Birthday.”
    “Your friend sued for wrongful death?”
    “There was an insurance settlement. I don’t know how much. How much does the life of a sixteen year old go for these days?”
    “How awful. What a tragedy! But, Sandy, I’m sure she was fully informed of the risks, signed papers and so forth.”
    “You don’t go into a nose job expecting to die,” said Sandy.
    Unable to refute this logic, Nina asked, “Did Linda blame Dr. Sykes for her daughter’s