LITMIR.BIZ

      14

      Still wearing his full-length white coat from morning rounds, Kingston Merritt checked in with his girls at the front office.

      No messages from the bitch. God, how he hated that woman. Hated her and loved her at the same time. Why? Merritt wondered. Why did she have that kind of power over him? She neglected him as a young child, criticized him mercilessly the few times she was around. She was cruel and heartless. Except … except on those rare occasions when she showed her other side—the fun-loving woman with a laugh as light as a summer’s breeze. Taking him to the circus, squeezing his hand, introducing him to the lion tamer after the show was over. He had felt so special …

      But this was the final straw. She could just go to hell. No doubt, it was her fault Lilah was hurt. It was her fault that Lilah was estranged from him in the first place.

      He smiled at his ladies, made chitchat as one of them brought him coffee, another brought the day’s appointments. A heavy load—forty names, roughly two-thirds routine pelvics. There was a star after Mrs. Lewis’s name—the cervical carcinoma in situ picked up on a routine Pap. She’d require extra consultation time. He’d check her into the hospital tonight, do the surgery at seven tomorrow after his six A.M. D and C. Mrs. Arlin was in for her three-month fibroid check, as was Mrs. Bennington. Three six-week postpartum checks. The rest were OB cases, five of those evals for termination. One of the candidates was already five months gravid. A termination in the second trimester, much more difficult because of the advanced development of the fetus. It was good she’d come to him.

      He stuffed the schedule into his coat pocket and took the coffee into the privacy of his office. A large picture window afforded him a view of the Palos Verdes peninsula, the steely ocean a reflection of the overcast sky. He sat at his desk, extracted a bottle of bourbon from a locked drawer, and laced his drink with a single shot. Then he sat back in his chair and sipped his morning brew. The cup was half empty when his private line rang. He waited a beat, then picked it up.

      “Hello, Mother. Nice of you to return my twenty calls.”

      “Where the hell were you yesterday?”

      “Where the hell was I? Where the hell were you?”

      “Talking to the police—”

      “What happened to Lilah, Mother? I tried to see her yesterday, but she had already checked out of the hospital.”

      “How’d you find out about Lilah?”

      “I met up with a detective at the spa—”

      “You were at the spa?”

      “Yes, I was … or didn’t Frederick tell you.”

      There was a long pause over the line.

      Merritt said, “I suppose Frederick didn’t tell you.”

      Davida said, “I suppose Frederick and I are due for a little chat.”

      “Mother, the detective told me Lilah had been attacked. Tell me what happened.”

      “Funny, I was going to ask you that very question.”

      Feeling his face go hot, Merritt slammed down the receiver. A couple of beats later the private line rang again. He picked up the handpiece.

      “That was a repulsive, vile insinuation, Mother.”

      “Kingston, I wasn’t trying to be nasty. We’re on the same side, for God’s sake! I only meant that maybe you know what happened because you talked to the police.”

      “I don’t know a thing because I left to see Lilah. And she was gone. So why don’t you tell me what happened. Was Lilah attacked?”

      There was a long pause. Merritt heard the drumming of fingers over the line.

      “I’ve got a busy schedule, Mother. Is that true or not?”

      “I think so.”

      “You think?”

      “Well, Lilah is prone to fits of fantasy—”

      “The detective told me she’d been beaten, for God’s sake! How could she fantasize about that?”

      “She had a few bruises. Nothing serious.”

      “I

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