The Stars Shine Bright by Sibella Giorello

Author:Sibella Giorello
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ebook, book
Publisher: Thomas Nelson
Published: 2012-06-13T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-One

I signed my fake name on the official visitors’ log at Western State Hospital. It was a quarter to three and the air already smelled of dinner. Institutional dinner. That prickly odor of salted green beans and oily yellow chicken, all of it reeking of vitamins and reconstituted illness. The receptionist at the front desk was a square-faced girl whose eyes were set too close together. She seemed less than pleased to see us. She pointed her pen at DeMott.

“Is he here to see Dr. Norbert too?”

“No.”

DeMott gave me a look, letting me know my tone was harsh. Bad manners always bothered him.

I tried again. “No, ma’am. But he might be visiting a patient later.”

“He’s just going to waltz onto the ward—is that what you think?”

“No.” I stretched the word out, hoping to neutralize her sarcasm. “Dr. Norbert has to approve it first. And the patient has to agree to see him.”

She tapped the pen on a sign above the visitors’ log. “You’d better find out quick. See what that says for Saturday?”

“Yes, visiting hours are over at three o’clock.” I tapped my watch, the same way she tapped the sign. “So he’s still got fifteen minutes.”

DeMott stepped forward, breaking up the fight. “Thank you, miss. We appreciate your help.”

He turned and walked across the foyer, taking a seat by the stairwell door. The receptionist’s expression seemed baffled, like that of the airport security guy. Out here, DeMott’s Southern gentility sounded like a foreign language. For all they knew he was kidding, pulling their leg. Except he wasn’t. DeMott’s etiquette was pure distilled Old Dominion—the Virginian who could face a guillotine and still call the executioner “sir.”

I tried to smile at her. “Do you allow dogs in the lobby?”

“Seeing eye dogs?”

“Ordinary dogs.” Not that Madame was ordinary. “Pets. That belong to the patients.”

“What do you think?”

She really didn’t want to know.

Closing my lips over my tattered Southern manners, I walked over to where DeMott was sitting. The foyer’s floor was covered with small white hexagonal tiles. The twelve-foot ceiling seemed even higher because of the dark wall panels. The Gothic architecture reminded me of some of Richmond’s downtown buildings, built in the late 1800s after the War of Northern Aggression. But the effect was ruined by the plastic chairs placed beside a wood-laminate table, where pamphlets fanned across the surface.

I said, “I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

He picked up a pamphlet. The cover read Signs of Clinical Depression. He asked, “How long does it usually take?”

“It’s hard to say. He stretches it out or cuts it short, depending on his mood.”

“You see him often?”

His forehead was tightening, the skin rippling. I knew this expression. It meant my answers weren’t clear enough. I was being evasive, again. And DeMott was worried. Again.

“You know,” I said, “this would be a lot easier if you’d carry a cell phone.”

“And if people used them only for emergencies, I might. But I refuse to spend my days with a phone stuck to my ear.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.