John Lescroart - Guilt

'And Dooher knows she's there?'

'Yes, I told him…' The voice had lost its modulation.

'When was this?'

'I don't know exactly. Maybe a half-hour ago, not even that long. He called me again and I just thought…'

Glitsky didn't need to hear any more.

Diane was in the post-delivery room. She squeezed Christina's hand. 'It's all right,' she said. 'You're allowed to cry. He's beautiful. Handsome, I mean.'

'Beautiful,' Christina said.

Jess Yamagi leaned over her, laid a finger against the baby's cheek, brought his hand up to Christina's shoulder. 'I'm going to let you hold him for a couple of minutes, Chris, but his temperature is a degree or two low, which is perfectly normal. We're going to put him under the lamp and warm him up until he's stabilized.'

'And then what?'

'Then we wash him off and bundle him up and bring him to you. Meanwhile, you get a little rest if you can.' He squeezed her shoulder. 'You did good, Chris. Great job. You, too, Diane.'

Christina couldn't take her eyes from her baby who seemed to be staring back at her. She'd always thought that infants were born with their eyes closed, but her son was wide-eyed, memorizing her.

A nurse appeared and showed Christina the little plastic hospital tag they put around the baby's ankle -Baby Boy Dooher. Her husband's name startled her slightly, but the tag was already made up. It wasn't so important it had to be changed right away. 'Everybody worries we're going to mix up their children in the nursery, so we show you this to put your mind at ease,' the nurse went on.

'All the babies get one,' Diane volunteered.

Christina was staring through the mist down at her son. 'I'd know this guy anywhere. I could pick him out of a thousand other babies.'

The nurse smiled again. 'I know you could, sweetheart.' Then, picking him up, 'He'll be back in no time, don't worry.'

It wrenched her to have the baby taken, but it wouldn't be for very long, it was a normal procedure. She turned to Diane, the rock, and squeezed her hand again, the fatigue kicking in.

She'd just close her eyes for a minute…

Like the rest of life, it was simplicity itself if carried off with grace and assurance. Dooher was the natural father of the child, the legal father. He had as much right to be here as Christina did.

'I'm sorry I'm so late,' he said to the nurse at the admitting station after he'd presented his ID, proving that he was who he said he was. 'I'm just in from the airport. I've been back East all week. I knew this would happen when I was out of town. I knew it. How is Christina?'

The nurse double-checked his ID, then Christina's admitting record, verifying that yes, he was the husband, they lived at the same address. They were careful here – babies had been known to disappear.

Looking up, satisfied, the nurse seemed to see Mark for the first time, the nervous father. 'Your wife got moved to her room a couple of minutes ago, Mr Dooher. Room 412, right down that hallway. She's resting now, doing fine. And congratulations, you have a baby boy.'

Dr Yamagi diagnosed the Lieutenant to be on the edge of hysteria. His blue eyes were dilated in his dark-skinned face. An unusual combination.

But the man – Glitsky – wasn't here about genetics. He'd come in through the emergency entrance, always a fun place on a Saturday night. Probably so that he could park as close to the hospital as possible. Waste no time.

'Yes, I delivered the Dooher boy,' Yamagi said, 'maybe forty-five minutes ago.'

'Is the mother all right? Christina?'

'Yes. She was, anyway. Why?'

Glitsky didn't answer that question. He had his own. 'Have you seen the father – Mark Dooher? Has he been here?'

Yamagi shook his head. 'No. Christina had a friend helping her. Diane.' This name didn't seem to register.

'I'd like to see them. Talk to her.'

'She may be resting.'

Glitsky nodded. 'I'll wake her up.'

The doctor rode up the elevator with the silent Homicide Lieutenant. They passed the nurse's station without a word, and Yamagi escorted Glitsky into the maternity wing itself, past the double doorway that segregated the new mothers from the sick and the injured.

This was the happy part of the hospital, with bright stencils decorating the walls and the hallway filled with flowers and balloons and, somehow, a sense of optimism.

Glitsky noted it all, but little of it registered. Yamagi pushed open a door at the end of the hall – Room 412. The overhead light was turned off, but Glitsky recognized Christina in her bed, her eyes closed.

Under a directional light, another woman was reading Modern Maternity. She looked up when the men entered, breaking into a welcoming smile at Yamagi, then a questioning glance at Glitsky. She dropped her magazine into the carry-all shoulder purse on the floor next to her chair. She stood up.

'Hi, doctor. She's sleeping.'

'No, that's all right, Diane. I'm awake.' Christina was already pushing herself upright, getting ready to hold her son. 'Is the baby here?' She opened her eyes, trying to get focused. She took in Diane and Yamagi, then blinked, as though having trouble with her vision. 'Lieutenant Glitsky?'

He nodded. 'Ms Carrera.'

'What are you doing…?' She came straight up, grimacing with effort. 'My son! Is my son all right?'

'He's fine,' Yamagi answered reassuringly. 'We'll have him in here in a couple of minutes.'

Christina leaned back, relief all over her.

Yamagi came up to the bed. He held the switch to raise one end of it, propping Christina into a more comfortable position. 'You get some rest?'

She nodded. 'A little.'

'You ready for your boy?'

'Please.'

'Okay. I'll pass the word and they'll bring him along. Then: 'Lieutenant, is everything here okay for you?'

Glitsky had already checked the corners. It was a private room with no place to hide. Mark Dooher wasn't here.

'Good.' Yamagi looked at his watch. 'Christina, be sure to ask for help if you need anything. They'll wheel in another bed if you want Diane to stay. I'll be back first thing in the morning. You want me to show you the way out, Lieutenant?'

Glitsky didn't like this. He didn't know what had happened with Farrell. Dooher knew Christina had come here, and yet – apparently – he hadn't. Something wasn't right, maybe a lot of things. 'I'd like to stay on a minute. I have a couple of questions.'

This wouldn't have been Yamagi's choice, but Christina read the indecision in his face and spoke up. 'It's okay with me.'

Yamagi yielded. 'I'd appreciate it if you kept it short then. All of you.'

As the door closed behind the doctor, Glitsky took a step toward the bed. 'Have you seen your husband? I was sure he was coming here.'

'Why would he be here? He doesn't know I'm here.'

Glitsky considered that. He had to tell her. 'Yes, he does. Your mother told him.'

A long, dead moment as it sank in.

Dooher didn't go right in to see Christina. He needed to see her, all right, to explain things, but he wanted to find his baby first. That would make it all clearer.

He looked through the glass and read the identifying tag. Baby Boy Dooher was under the warming light. A tiny red heart was stuck to his chest, keeping track of his temperature.

He pushed open the door to the newborn nursery. Inside, he stood quietly – the proud new father, overwhelmed with emotion, a little lost.

A pretty young nurse approached him. 'Can I help you, sir?'

In the role, Dooher gave her his best smile, shading it with a touch of self-deprecation. 'My new boy. I saw him through the glass in there. I just got here – I missed the birth. I wonder if I could hold him a second? It's the Dooher baby?' He had his identification out again, and this nurse, too, looked it over, then handed it back to him.