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  “I don’t follow.”

  “The day nurse and the night one, they are both named Ruth. And the housekeeper. She, too, is a Ruth.” Consuela revealed a lovely smile. “Ms. Jessica, she calls this ‘being efficient. ’”

  “The nurse is very quiet,” Lucius said.

  “Ms. Jessica, she tells the service, ‘Don’t send me talkers. If you send me somebody who jabbers, I send them right back.’ The night Ruth reads all the time. She has the tablet, the computer without keys. It shines like a night-light. She sits and she reads.” Consuela looked at him. “Ms. Sarah, she is almost this quiet. I go days and days and don’t speak. When I go home, my husband, he catches all the words I store up in the days. Sometimes when he goes to bed early, he says it is because his ears are hurting him.”

  “You can talk with me all you like,” Lucius assured her.

  She flashed another smile. “My husband, he will thank you so very much.”

  The office had apparently not been touched in months. The pile of unopened correspondence blanketed the in-box and collected in four cardboard boxes hidden behind the desk. There were 147 messages on the phone. Consuela had no idea what the password was to Jessica’s computer, so Lucius could not access her e-mails. When Lucius asked, the day Ruth told him that Jessica was sleeping and could not be disturbed. He returned to the office and said to the empty room, “What a mess.”

  In truth, though, he was actually very glad. There was work that needed doing. He had a task, a role to play. She needed him. At four that afternoon Sarah appeared in the doorway and must have seen something that agreed with her, as she spoke to him for the first time that day. “She always told me not to bother.”

  “I understand.”

  She stood there and watched him sort the correspondence for a time, then said, “I imagine you’ll be wanting to go through her e-mails.”

  “I do, yes.”

  “Her password is ‘Lucius.’ Do I need to spell that for you?”

  His voice sounded strangled to his own ears. “No, thank you. I can manage.”

  CHAPTER 53

  Asha’s Monday morning began with a phone call from the university president’s secretary, who instructed her to attend a meeting at three. She called Dino to make sure he had received the same marching orders. Dino told her, “They obviously know something about our patient’s current status that we don’t.”

  “He is no longer our patient,” Asha replied. “I have received a letter from Luke’s attorney to that effect.”

  “When?”

  “It arrived this morning.”

  “Well, that should extract us from whatever mess Benoit is making for himself.”

  “That does nothing to help him through his current situation,” Asha replied.

  But Dino was having none of it. “Just as you said, Luke Benoit is officially someone else’s problem.”

  Asha was leaving the office that afternoon when Luke Benoit phoned. Asha told him, “It’s not good timing, I’m afraid. I’m due at the president’s office in twenty minutes.”

  “Because of me, I suppose.” He sounded very matter-of-fact.

  “What have you done now?”

  He laughed. The sound stopped Asha in her tracks. Standing there outside her own door, the keys in her hand, unable to move. She tried to recall if she had ever heard him even chuckle before just then.

  Luke replied, “Jessica has appointed me her secretary.”

  “Say that again, please.”

  “The office is a complete and utter mess. No one has been in here for months, except to dump another load of correspondence.”

  “Luke . . . where are you now?”

  “In the pool house. Or cabana. It’s more like a hotel suite. I worked through lunch. Her unanswered e-mails contain five quarterly reports on her corporate accounts. Apparently, she’s not even glanced at them. Consuela just came in and ordered me to stop and grab a bite. Which is when I realized I hadn’t called you.”

  “Wait, you’re living there?”

  “For the moment. We’ll see how things develop. Actually, that’s not why I called. I wanted to thank you for allowing me to visit with your grandmother.”

  “You’re welcome. Luke . . .”

  But he was not done. “She challenged me in a way that’s hard to describe.”

  Asha realized she had to move if she did not want to be late. She forced her legs to carry her down the corridor and out the front door. “Please try and tell me.”

  Luke repeated Sonya’s words about living in the moment. “There was something else, she didn’t actually say it, but I heard the message as clearly as if she did. I need to accept that I am alone out of habit. But some of the issues I face can’t be dealt with on my own. I need . . .”

  “Help,” Asha offered.

  “Friends,” Luke corrected. “People I can trust. And who trust me.”

  Asha had an uneasy sense of missing a very important message. She knew this conversation contained a crucial ingredient, some elemental charge that would alter everything. She had no idea what it was. But for the moment it was enough to sense its presence.

  “Asha?”

  She thought on the letter she had received from his attorney, and asked, “Is there anything else you feel I should know?”

  It was his turn to hesitate. When he responded, it was to say, “There is. Yes.” Another hesitation, then, “I think Jessica suspects.”

  CHAPTER 54

  Dino was already seated in the boardroom when she arrived. He pulled out the chair next to his as President Roland looked pointedly at his watch and said, “We’re all present now? Yes? Good. Ms. Meisel, I believe you know everyone except Graham Avery, vice chair of our board of trustees. Very well. I’ve asked you all here because of news that just came in this morning. One of Ron’s staff has developed a close personal relationship with Ms. Wright’s aide. She called this morning to inform us that this Benoit individual has apparently inserted himself into the Wright household as the woman’s personal secretary.” Roland let that sink in for a moment, then said, “Ron, why don’t you start.”

  Ron James rose from his position and walked to the front of the room, where a large screen was sliding down from the ceiling. He showed artist’s renditions of two new university buildings currently in the planning stages. He moved through the cost structures with a nervous but practiced manner. The numbers appeared and flowed and vanished. The meaning was very clear. Without Jessica Wright’s normal level of investment, both of these projects would be halted.

  Asha listened with far less than full attention. She found herself recalling the hospital peer review with vivid clarity. There was the unmistakable sense that the two events were tied together. If only she could identify the missing element. If only . . .

  “Ms. Meisel?”

  “I’m sorry, yes?”

  “Do you have anything to add to these proceedings?”

  “About what?”

  “Did you really say that?” Ron James stomped back around to his position. “Your patient threatens the future of this university!”

  Dino replied, “Point of clarification. Luke Benoit removed himself from therapy. This morning Ms. Meisel received official confirmation from his attorney.”

  The president asked, “May I see?”

  Asha extracted the letter from her purse and handed it over. Roland read, then passed it down to the trustee. Avery was sleekly overweight and carried himself with a glossy self-important air. His cuff links flashed as he adjusted his spectacles. “Sol Feinnes has been in touch with us as well.”

  The president asked, “About what?”

  “A minor matter related to his ill-advised representation of this Benoit individual. A question about our handling of his trust. Not really germane to our discussion. But another bit of evidence.”

  Asha nodded slowly. She remembered where she had heard Avery’s name before. Luke Benoit had directed some of his most acerbic comments at the attorney respons
ible for his family’s trust.

  Roland asked, “Evidence of what?”

  “Clearly, the young man in question has serious and troubling issues,” Avery replied. “Wouldn’t you agree, Dr. Barbieri?”

  “Perhaps,” Dino replied.

  Avery showed surprise. “I would say this has moved into the realm of certainty. Luke Benoit releases himself from the hospital after a third suicide attempt, and now threatens the university’s position with its largest individual donor. There is no ‘perhaps’ about it, Dr. Barbieri. In fact, it alarms me that you would even refer to this situation with such a response.”

  Ron James bounced up and down in his seat. “Now we’re talking.”

  Roland asked the trustee, “What would you suggest?”

  “Quite simple, really. We ask for the court to intervene. Luke Benoit is a menace to himself and others. He must be removed from Jessica Wright’s proximity. He should be placed under strict supervision.” Avery lifted his head far enough to erase the multiple folds along his neck. Even so, the gesture was weakened by the fat little dimple of a chin. “And if he objects in any way, we must ensure that Luke Benoit is locked up. Permanently.”

  CHAPTER 55

  Asha remained immersed in her internal dialogue until the others had said their farewells. Dino then asked, “Do you have time for a coffee?”

  “Actually, I need to talk with you.”

  “Great minds think alike. Where shall we go?”

  “Nowhere, Dino. We need to do this now.”

  “What, here?”

  “Here is perfect.” She waited until he resumed his seat to say, “I can not be party to what is taking place.”

  Dino appeared genuinely shocked, which disappointed her terribly. But not nearly as much as his words. “Do you have any idea what you are saying?”

  “I know precisely what this means. May I tell you why?”

  “Asha, you can’t possibly suggest we side with Benoit.” Dino waved at the empty seats. “These people are deadly serious.”

  “And they are wrong.”

  Her calm surprised them both. Dino opened and shut his mouth twice. Confusion and anger and fear worked through his features and his gaze. Finally he declared, “Luke Benoit has been a menace since the moment he returned to consciousness.”

  She knew what was happening, at least internally. She was reverting to the professional calm that had inflamed virtually every one of her previous relationships. Her response to friction had always been to distance herself, and that had infuriated every boyfriend she had ever had. Even so, she knew it was what made her a good clinician, this ability to retreat within an icy clarity. The problem was, her ability had no ON/OFF switch.

  Now she heard the tragic lament of her soon-to-be broken heart, and knew she was helpless to close the distance, or show him her love and concern and desire for a different outcome. Instead, she heard herself say, “You’ve listened to me twice before, when you were about to make a serious error in regard to Luke. Will you give me that courtesy again?”

  He crossed his arms, bracing himself for what he did not want to hear. “Go ahead.”

  “Let’s start with the video I made of the drive. Do you remember what I said at my parents’?”

  “Asha, a diversion from the expected pattern, especially with patients suffering from DID, does not hold any significance. Everyone disagrees over signal traits related to multiple personalities.”

  “Luke Benoit is not experiencing a split personality. He exhibits not one of the expected symptoms. He has changed. He is not the person he was before. We need to accept that and help him adjust to this new beginning.”

  There. She had said it. The declaration should probably have been softened. Couched in more professional language. Drawn out slowly. But at some level Asha knew that it would have made no difference.

  She could see his response. It was etched in his features. Dino was siding with the board. Against her. And against Luke.

  “Asha, even if you were right, which you are not, even if you were, you don’t go against the university board.”

  “I have no choice.”

  “You have every choice. You have every reason to make that choice.” He stabbed the air between them and the exit. “Those people can make or break your career!”

  She knew then that it was over. He stood on one side of the chasm, she on the other. She felt her heart crack with the distress and the loss. But she couldn’t change what she knew to be right. “I have to do what is best for my patient.”

  “Even if he does not consider himself in your care? You’re going to throw everything away? The Journal article, medical school, your professional chances . . .”

  As swiftly as she could, Asha related her latest conversation with Lucius. “It was the confirmation I needed. There in the voice and the words both. What do we always say about all personality disorders, the one issue we can always count on? The one trait they all have in common?”

  Dino was silent, his jaw muscles rigid as he glared at her.

  “They deflect. They do not accept change. Everything in their environment is twisted so as to reinforce.” She wiped her face. If only knowing she was right did not hurt so bad. “Luke thanked me. He accepted my grandmother’s challenge to grow. What was more, he realized another personal issue all on his own. And accepted the need for further change.”

  “So you’re telling me this guy has died and popped up—”

  “No, Dino. I am just saying the near-death experience has created something else.” She laid her hands upon the polished table, palms up. “Near-death experiences can create huge and unexpected transformations. Many of them result in extremely positive outcomes. We have hundreds of case studies to draw upon. All I’m saying at this point is, Luke Benoit is not the same man he was before. We need to accept this and help him. That is our job.”

  Dino remained as he was. Clenched and angry and shut away from her. “If you insist upon taking this course, it may well cost you your professional future.”

  Asha closed her hands, drew back, rose from her chair, and took the long way around the boardroom so she did not have to go near Dino. As she opened the door and entered the corridor, she thought she heard him call her name. Or perhaps it was merely the lament of an empty heart.

  CHAPTER 56

  Lucius was deep in the corporate accounts when Sarah stopped by to say she was leaving for the day. He ignored her hostile tone and pointed stare, and wished her a good evening.

  Twenty minutes later, the day nurse pushed Jessica’s wheelchair into view. She was dressed in a sky-blue frock that sparkled as it caught the lights. Her hair had been coiffed and looked to Lucius like spun silver. She declared, “I have rested better than I have in years.”

  Lucius rose and stood by the desk. A proper secretary. “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “I have a hankering to escape from this . . .”

  “Mausoleum,” Lucius offered.

  “Precisely. Would you do me the kindness of taking me for a drive?”

  Lucius was already moving for the door. “Absolutely.”

  * * *

  There was, of course, no question which car to take, not even when Consuela walked him over to the mock stables and introduced him to a warehouse holding nearly two-dozen vehicles. When Lucius asked for the keys to the Caprice, Consuela said, “That is Ms. Jessica’s favorite.”

  “I know.”

  “How are you knowing this?”

  “Intuition,” Lucius replied. He slipped behind the wheel and backed it carefully from its place in line, then drove around the sweeping drive to where the day Ruth stood by Jessica’s chair.

  When she was settled in the passenger seat, he asked, “Did you have anyplace in mind?”

  “Most certainly,” Jessica replied, and pointed forward. “Beyond those prison gates.”

  Lucius was uncertain that he would be able to find his way. But there was only one road that wound along the valley floor, back
to the Miramar Highway. He took the main street through town, when suddenly he was struck by a thought. He pulled into a parking space and said, “Would you excuse me a moment?”

  Jessica gave the passersby a sour look. “You’re not intending to leave me here and go run off for hours, I hope.”

  “Five minutes, tops.”

  “I suppose I can amuse myself that long.”

  He left the car and sprinted back to where a tattooed young man polished the brass handles to the restaurant’s entrance. “Sorry, man. We’re closed.”

  “I just want to make a reservation.”

  “Not for tonight,” the young man warned. “The place is booked solid. Word got out that Connor Larkin’s gonna play.”

  Lucius had no idea what the young man was talking about, nor did he care. He entered the restaurant and found the proprietor filling the bar coolers next to the lovely Latina. Sylvie Cassick greeted him with, “If half the rumors we’ve been hearing are true, you could keep us spellbound for hours. Only not today.”

  Lucius leaned over the bar, getting in close enough for them to see his desperation. “I need to ask a really, really big favor.”

  * * *

  There was a reassuring sameness to so much of Miramar. The town had grown, certainly doubling in size and perhaps more. But the main layout was precisely as Lucius remembered. He took it very slow. Driving his car with Jessica by his side was almost more than this much-improved young heart could bear.

  He took the cliffside drive past a clutch of California pines. A stiff wind off the Pacific tossed their limbs almost like they waved a frantic greeting. The turnoff for Bent Pine Park was where he recalled. The place was much improved, the parking area paved and the adjacent pasture now holding a soccer field and playground for young children. The lot was about half-full. Lucius drove around twice before a departing pickup granted him a spot from where they looked out over the beach.