“Already did. Got the answering machine.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it then, Hannah. Paul will get the message eventually, and even if he doesn’t, surely he’ll call when he hasn’t heard from you.”
I wasn’t so sure. After our recent telephone conversation he’d know I was still furious with him over that disgusting Jennifer Goodall business.
Connie leaned across the table to fill my empty glass with orange juice from a carton, pausing in mid-pour to examine my face. “Except for that red spot on the bridge of your nose, I’d never guess you’d been in an accident.” She handed me the raisin bran. “So what are you going to do today, now that you’ve more or less snooped yourself out of a job?”
“Go to work, of course. Dr. Chase doesn’t know that I know he knows about my finding Katie’s chart. It’d be suspicious if I didn’t show up at the office today, don’t you think?”
“Brilliant, Hannah. Now I’m convinced you’ve lost your so-called mind.”
“I’m not sure how Dr. Chase got involved in this cover-up, but he seems to be a decent sort of guy. I’m going to ’fess up. Admit I saw the chart. Reason with him about it. I should be able to persuade him to share whatever he knows with Dennis. Dr. Chase works with the police department, don’t forget.” I poured some cereal into my bowl. “If he had anything at all to do with those people who ran me off the road, I figure the best way to protect myself is to let him know that I told Dennis all about it.”
Connie stared at me without speaking, a frown of disapproval clouding her usually cheerful face. Suddenly I remembered that I was without wheels, completely at this woman’s mercy. She read my mind. “And I suppose you’ll be wanting to borrow my car?” I nodded. “Jeez, Hannah. With your track record, how can I be sure it’ll be safe with you?”
“Trust me.”
“Oh, I trust you. It’s the maniacs you seem to attract that I worry about.”
I had to agree. I’d been mulling it over all morning. I must have stepped on someone’s toes. Big time.
I finished my raisin bran, then spread some toast with grape jelly. I had eaten my toast and was licking the crumbs off my fingers before Connie relented. “Okay, you can have the car, but this is absolutely the last time I loan you any clothes. I don’t need to be shopping for a car and a new wardrobe. And, Hannah?”
“Yes?”
“Be careful. I don’t need to be shopping for a new sister-in-law either.”
Dr. Chase stood on the porch watering geraniums when I pulled into his parking lot twenty minutes before Saturday afternoon office hours were scheduled to begin. I was dressed in comfortable black slacks and a pink, short-sleeve knit top, accessorized with a frayed tapestry vest. Instead of black patent leather pumps, I wore a sensible pair of Easy Spirit sandals. On my head was my wig, washed, brushed, and looking ratty. Following yesterday’s dunking, it was barely presentable, but I wore it anyway. I didn’t have a hat that matched my vest.
As I climbed the steps to the front door, the doctor rested his watering can on the porch rail and smiled as if nothing had happened, completely disarming me. Finding Katie’s chart must not have been that big a deal; otherwise he would have been much cooler toward me. Dr. Chase wore his emotions on his face. He didn’t strike me as that good an actor.
“Hey, Hannah. Thought you were Connie for a minute.” Then he noticed I didn’t have my car. “Your car in the shop?”
“So to speak. A tow truck pulled it out of Baxter’s pond this morning.”
His eyes grew wide. “No kidding? How’d it get in there?”
“Haven’t you heard? I thought the news would be all over town by now.”
“Nope. I’ve been holed up here since last night.”
Without going into detail, I told him about the black van that had run me off the road. I watched his face transform from a mask of amusement into one of deep concern. “I was going to make some smart-ass remark about your being accident prone, but this is serious!”
“Dennis is treating it as a hit-and-run, but he’s not optimistic he’ll find the driver.”
“I’m surprised you’ve come to work today. Sure you’re okay? Come inside. Let’s have a look at you.” The way he fussed over me made me miss my mother.
“I’m fine, Doctor. Really. But I would like to talk.”
“Well, of course. Come in, come in.” He set the watering can down on the porch next to a fuchsia plant in full bloom and held the door open for me. I headed directly down the long hallway and turned into his office. Dr. Chase followed and tossed his key ring on the desk. While he got settled, I pulled up a blue upholstered armchair, tried to collect my thoughts, and began to sweat. My anxiety must have showed.
“Sure you’re okay?” He appeared genuinely concerned.
“Quite sure.” I leaned forward and took a deep breath, knowing when I did so that the charade would be over. I’d be putting an end to my part-time employment. “Dr. Chase, I have a confession. I know you told me Katie Dunbar’s chart had been shredded, but yesterday, when I came to work, my curiosity got the better of me. I’m sorry, but I went rummaging through the file room, looking for it.”
Dr. Chase stared at me, eyes enormous behind his glasses, his tented fingers just touching his lips.
“As you know, I didn’t find it there. But I did happen to notice a chart on your desk when I was cleaning up some spilled coffee.” I pointed. “It was stuck under your blotter.”
The doctor still didn’t comment, so I floundered on. “I meant to put it back, of course, but things were so hectic yesterday, I just stuck it in the nearest file cabinet.” I thought it would be wise not to mention the photocopy. “I’m sorry. I feel just awful about this. I know I’ve betrayed the confidence you placed in me. But what’s done is done.”
I straightened my back and took another deep, steadying breath. The next part was going to be harder. It would have been easier if the doctor had reacted to anything I’d told him so far but no, he sat there like the great Sphinx, drawing the point of a pencil mindlessly forward and back along a seam on the arm of his chair. “Dr. Chase, I need to tell you that I did read the chart. I know that when your father examined Katie in 1990, she was two months pregnant.”
Dr. Chase rested his elbows on the arms of his chair and adjusted his position slightly, as if trying to get comfortable. “Sometimes charts that would normally be declared inactive get missed when they’re part of a family unit that includes current patients. In Ms. Dunbar’s case, though, the chart was shredded.”
“But, Doctor, I saw it!”
It was weird. Dr. Chase was staring at the bookshelf near the window, but I had the feeling he was aware of every move I made. “You’re mistaken.” The doctor removed his glasses by the nosepiece and, still holding them, rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. Maybe it was easier for him to lie to someone whose face appeared before him as an impressionistic blur.
“Katie Dunbar is dead, Dr. Chase. What can her pregnancy matter to anyone now?”
Dr. Chase sprawled in his chair and stared at the ceiling, his mouth a thin, tight line. His eyes traveled from the ceiling to the window where sunlight dappled the sill. “It’s too complicated to explain.” He was addressing the magnolia tree in his garden, not me.
“Explain about Elizabeth Dunbar, you mean?”
His head snapped in my direction, his dark eyes wide. “What do you know about Liz?” At last! My questions had triggered a reaction.
“Only what I overheard of your conversation with her last night.” I thought I’d keep him guessing about the point at which I’d stumbled upon their argument.
Dr. Chase closed his eyes and wagged his head silently from side to side. When he finally spoke, his words lay flat and frosty in the space between us. “You seem to be everywhere, Mrs. Ives.”