Night Of The Living Dandelion Part 27

"There have to be other skilled surgeons at County Hospital who have had great achievements. Have they been targets, too?"

Holloway smiled. "Just yours truly."

"Because of your success."

"Yes."

Somehow I had to get him to admit that Lori was behind it. "Excuse me for saying so, Doctor, but I'm not buying it. Someone targeted you alone, and that smacks of more than jealousy. That sounds like retaliation for something much more personal. Am I right?"

He continued to walk back and forth. Finally, he looked at me, his head at an angle. "Why are you so interested in this?"

"Can't you see how this will play out on the written page? Think about it, Doctor. There you are, a prominent surgeon, attacked and nearly brought down by a vindictive-colleague?"

He smiled cagily. "Perhaps."

"Wounded professionally, cast adrift emotionally, you rose above it all to be where you are today, one of the preeminent cardiac surgeons in the world."

If that didn't get to him, nothing would.

"Cardio-thoracic," he corrected.

I made a show of amending my notes. "And you did it in spite of this colleague who wanted to destroy you. What a great human-interest story. The readers will eat this up."

"And it's all true," he said, nodding sagely.

"All because you rejected this colleague's, what, advice? No, that's not it. I can tell by your expression. You rejected this colleague's-ah, of course-advances."

Holloway paced for a few more moments, as though gathering his thoughts, then stopped by the window to gaze out toward the hospital across the street. "You're very shrewd, Miss La Cour. And you're right. She was a woman in desperate need of power. A woman who would do anything to get ahead. What she saw in me was a way to have more authority and prestige."

"By having an affair with you?"

Holloway turned, his arms wide-open. "What else?"

"While you were married?"

"The fact that I was married didn't matter to Lor-"

He'd said it!

Holloway pressed his lips together and turned to stare out the window.

"Lori? Is that her name?" I asked, pretending to scribble more notes.

He waved it away. "Names aren't important."

"How did Lori hope to gain prestige and authority if your affair was to be kept secret?"

"Her name wasn't Lori," Holloway snapped, turning to give me a fierce glare. "My name is the only one you need to be concerned about. My name! Understand?"

"I am so sorry, Doctor. Yes, I understand, and you're one hundred percent correct. This piece is about you. We'll simply refer to her as a colleague, then. So let me rephrase my question. Can you explain how your colleague planned to reap any benefits from the affair if it was clandestine? Through blackmail?"

"No, of course not," Holloway said irritably. "None of this matters anyway because I made it perfectly clear to her that I wasn't interested in any kind of relationship. After that, she left me alone, or so I mistakenly believed. But all the while she was biding her time, and when she saw an opportunity to bring me down, she grabbed it. Fortunately, neither my patients nor the hospital deserted me, nor did I keel over from the shock of what I went through, which is a tribute to my strong const.i.tution."

"It must have been a bitter pill to swallow," I said. "What helped get you through it?"

He turned back to stare out the window. "Careful planning."

As in, planning a bloodletting? "Would you share that plan with the readers? Something they can take away with them?"

He rocked back on his heels, his hands clasped behind his back. "How does one plan anything, Miss La Cour? A vacation, for instance. You pick your destination, determine the best way to get there, arrange your accommodations, and hope for no bad weather."

"What was your destination in this case, Doctor?"

"Redemption."

I waited for Holloway to elaborate, but he continued to stare out the window, so I said, "Would you like to explain how that worked?"

"It's self-explanatory."

Okay then. "From what you've told me, the reprimand put you in a tailspin. People often seek solace from traumatic situations by engaging in unhealthy habits. Did that happen to you?"

He turned to give me a puzzled look. "Unhealthy habits? Are you asking if I became an addict?"

"There are many types of addictions. Drinking, drugs, gambling . . ."

"I don't believe in polluting my body with excessive alcohol or recreational drugs, Miss La Cour, and I don't have the time or interest for gambling. In fact, I opposed legislation allowing casinos to operate in this state."

I jotted that down. "This is going to make a fascinating in-depth piece on you, Dr. Holloway. I appreciate your granting me this interview. All I need now is a way to end it. Clearly you've moved on with your life. What of your colleague? Do you ever see her? Have you had any contact with her since the reprimand?"

"Does it matter? I'm here, aren't I? I survived it."

But Lori didn't, I wanted to say. "That's true, Doctor. However, what I meant was-"

"I know what you meant."

I glanced at him uncertainly. He couldn't possibly know.

He smiled coyly. Was he going to accuse me of lying? Demand to know my real purpose for being there? Have me thrown out? Should I grab my crutches and make a run for it?

If only I could.

I uncrossed my leg and leaned down for my purse. No sense delaying the inevitable.

When I straightened, Holloway was coming toward me. I watched warily as he turned the chair next to mine so it was facing me. He sat down, the tart men's cologne he had bathed in that morning washing over me like a lemon tsunami. He took my pen, stuck it in the pocket of his white coat, then picked up my hand and began to stroke the palm with his thumb.

"The magazine article is a ruse, isn't it?"

My face instantly got hot. "Why would you think that?"

"All these questions about my personal life-whether I'm married, whether I've moved on-they have nothing to do with my being a preeminent surgeon. The simple truth is that you've been wanting to meet me."

He couldn't be serious. "I'm sorry if you somehow got that impression from my questions, Doctor, but-"

"Call me Bastian."

What a coincidence. I was thinking of calling him something very similar to that.

Holloway stroked my wrist, making little circles with his thumb. "Let's be honest, Miss La Cour. We both know the primary reason you chose me for your article is not because I'm a brilliant surgeon-not that it didn't help, of course."

Let's be honest indeed. I forcefully removed my hand from his. "You're wrong."

He placed his hands on the arms of my chair. "I'm never wrong. I'm an expert at reading women's desires. And I have to say, your little cat-and-mouse game is quite a turn-on."

"Okay, I'm going to have to end this now. Would you give me my pen, please?"

He leaned toward me, his gaze fastened on my lips as he said seductively, "We needn't end anything, Gabriella. This is our beginning."

Fearing that his next move would be to kiss me, I quickly felt alongside the chair for one of my crutches, intending to follow Marco's advice and smack him with it. Before I could lay my hand on it, however, there was a quick rap on the door.

"What?" Holloway snarled, turning just as the door opened and his nurse stepped inside. She was followed by Marco.

I breathed a sigh of relief. The cavalry had arrived.

The doctor erupted in a fit of temper. "What's the meaning of this?"

Steely-eyed, Marco instantly calculated Holloway's close proximity to me to a.s.sess my immediate danger, then started toward us. I gave him a quick shake of my head to let him know that my safety hadn't been breeched, and then I saw him visibly relax. The nurse had disappeared.

"Who are you?" Holloway bellowed, jumping to his feet. "How dare you barge in here!"

Keeping his gaze fixed on the surgeon, Marco said to me, "Let's go."

As I packed up my notebook and slid my purse over my shoulder, Holloway charged toward the door, bellowing for his nurse. Marco stepped into his path, shutting the door so the doctor had nowhere to go.

"I demand to know who you are!" Holloway raged, backing away from Marco's hard stare.

Balancing against the chair, I wedged the crutches under my arms and hop-stepped toward Marco. Without a word, he opened the door to let me through, then followed me out and shut the door behind him. We started down the hallway together, saying nothing. As I pa.s.sed the reception desk, I caught Holloway's nurse covering her mouth, trying to hide a grin. I gave her a smile and continued on.

"That was exciting," I said, as we left the clinic.

"Did you get your questions answered?"

"Most of them, until Holloway decided I was l.u.s.ting after him."

"So much for being able to handle frisky men," Marco said, helping me into the car.

"Trust me. Holloway wouldn't have gotten far." I gave Marco a playful punch in the arm. "But I'm glad you showed up anyway. And you would have been proud of me. I got Dr. Wonderful to say Lori's name. He told me she tried to ruin him for rejecting her advances, just as Courtney Anne had said. And get this-when I asked how he'd handled the crisis, his answer was 'by careful planning.' "

"Did he explain that?"

"He would only equate it with planning a vacation. So I asked what his destination had been and he said redemption . I tried to get him to clarify that, but he wouldn't. Maybe all he meant was that he had a financial plan to pull himself out of debt, but if that were so, you'd think he would've told me. If he hadn't gone all l.u.s.ty Louie on me, I might have gotten more out of him."

"Next time we talk to him, we'll use the direct approach."

"Next time? Holloway wouldn't talk to you before, Marco, and he's certainly not going to talk to either one of us now."

"I think he will. His nurse was nice enough to tell me where he hangs out after hours. Tonight, eight o'clock, we're going to be there."

"And where is that?"

"The casino boat."

"He told me he's opposed to gambling."

"According to his nurse, blackjack is his game."

"So Dr. Speedo lied to me twice."

"Yep. He and Jerry Trumble are now two for two."

"Speaking of Jerry, I almost forgot. I'm meeting with his wife's two friends at closing time today."

"When did you set that up?"

I thought back over the past two days. "So much has happened, I can't remember. This morning, I think."

"Do you want me there?"

"It'd be better if you weren't."

At ten minutes to five, Grace came into the workroom to report that a pair of women were in the coffee-and-tea parlor asking to see me. By the time I grabbed a pen and notebook and wheeled into the parlor, Grace had poured them coffee and put out the last two scones of the day, along with a bowl of clotted cream.

One of the women had already spread cream on her scone and was nibbling at the end, while the other stirred sugar into her coffee. Both appeared to be in their midthirties, one a pleasant-looking woman with short, curly brown hair that framed her round face, the other a lean woman with the physique of a runner, her brown hair in a high ponytail.

I introduced myself, and at their curious looks, explained about my ankle.

"I sprained my ankle once," the runner said, "but all the doctor did for me was tell me to stay off of it. I'm Alison, by the way."

"I'm Becky," the other woman said with a sweet smile, shaking my hand.

"Thanks for coming over." I noticed Grace hovering, so I said, "Would you close up shop, please? We might be a while, so I'll see you and Lottie in the morning."

I waited until Grace had left the room, then said, "Before I explain what I want to do for Dana, how do you happen to know her?"

"We went to college with her," Becky said. "We shared an apartment for our last two years at school."

"Until she met Jerry," Alison said drily, "and he talked her into moving in with him." She glanced at Becky and they shared a private look.

It seemed pretty clear that they didn't like Jerry, but I hated to a.s.sume it and end up offending them. I had to be tactful. "You mentioned on the phone not wanting to be involved in anything if Jerry was included. Would you mind telling me why?"