Jonathan Kellerman - The Conspiracy Club

She stayed there for four minutes, during which time Jeremy saw her arms rise and a garment slip over her head. Then another piece of clothing- something with long sleeves- was rolled down in its place.

Changing outfits.

When she was through, she consulted the rearview again, switched on a reading light. Not long enough for Jeremy to get a good look at her, but he could tell what she was doing. Touching up her lipstick. Then, she was cruising again.

One block. To the doctors’ lot. Into the lot.

Jeremy followed, okay now out in the open, because this was a place he belonged.

So did she. She slid a card into the slot and the gate opened.

They both parked. The Lexus was pale blue. When she got out of the car he recognized her as a physician he’d seen around but had never met. An internist he was pretty sure had come on staff fairly recently.

Midforties, good figure, pleasant but unremarkable face, blond hair textured in an efficient bob. She wore a knee-length charcoal wool skirt in place of the mini she’d sported during her tryst with Dirgrove. The garment she’d slipped over her head was a pink cashmere cowl neck sweater that she quickly concealed with a long, gray herringbone coat with a black velvet collar. Spike heels had been replaced by sensible loafers. She wore glasses.

When Jeremy passed her on the way to the covered walkway, she smiled at him, and said, “Brrr, it’s chilly.”

Jeremy smiled back.

Diamond wedding ring on her finger. What was her name? Gwen something…

Should he warn her?

Or did other women need to be warned about her ?

Every two years, a face book was issued to the medical staff. Jeremy had never found it necessary to consult his, wasn’t even sure he’d kept it. But he found it in a bottom drawer of his desk. Hundreds of faces, but only 20 percent were women, so the tale was told soon enough.

Gwynn Alice Hauser, M.D. Internal medicine. An assistant professor.

Dr. Hauser had a secret life.

How far did it go?

Over the next four days, Jeremy observed Gwynn Hauser on the wards and in the doctors’ dining room. She made no contact at all with Dirgrove, generally took her meals alone or in the company of other women. A cheerful sort, prone to laughter and flamboyant gestures. When she really got into a conversation, she removed her eyeglasses and leaned forward. Listened actively, as if what the person before her was saying was profound beyond belief.

One time, she lunched with a tall, dark, handsome man in a blue, double-breasted suit and the square, impassive face of a CEO. Wedding band on his hand, too, and he was openly affectionate with her.

The husband she’s cheating on.

Not a doctor, some sort of financial type, Jeremy was willing to bet. Taking the time out to share a meal with his busy wife. If he only knew how busy she was.

He encountered an internist he’d worked with, a man named Jerry Sallie, and asked him if he knew Gwynn Hauser.

“Gwynn? Sure. She make a move on you?”

“She’s like that?”

“Big tease, I’m not sure she’d come through,” said Sallie. “At least not that I’ve heard. She’s married to a bank president, has a sweet deal- he lets her do what she wants. She’s a pretty good doc. World’s biggest tease, though. Nice legs, huh?”

Friday night, Gwynn Hauser left the hospital at seven-thirty. Jeremy, sitting low in his Nova, behind a pylon in the doctors’ lot, waited as she drove away in her sky-colored Lexus. Dirgrove’s Buick was still in place.

Twenty minutes later, the surgeon appeared, at a near run, jumped into the Buick, started the engine up with a roar, and squealed out.

Exact same block in the nameless industrial neighborhood.

Dr. Gwynn Hauser stepped out of the shadows just as she had the first time. This time she had on an enormous white fur coat. Cloud-woman in spike heels; someone’s vision of heaven.

When Dirgrove pulled up, she parted the coat, revealed herself naked but for garters and stockings.

How could she stand the cold?

She couldn’t. Shivered and drew the fur closed and jumped up and down, pointing to the car.

Let me in, I’m freezing my ass off.

Dirgrove did.

Twenty-two minutes later, they parted ways.

This time, Jeremy followed Dirgrove. The surgeon headed straight for his luxury condo on Hale. He stayed home all night.

Family man.

When would he make his move?

Doug Vilardi looked bad. Some of the skin on his face and arms had sloughed- an unexpected, allergic reaction to chemo- his white count remained way too high, his spleen was engorged, and his liver function had worsened. In no shape to talk, he remained awake and seemed to react well to Jeremy’s presence. Jeremy sat there, talked a bit, found something on TV that caused the young man to smile- recap of a week-old college football game.

Once again, Jeremy took Doug’s slumber as his cue to leave, and, once again, he encountered the family on the way out.

Mrs. Vilardi and Marika. Doug, Sr. was at work. They sat down in an empty waiting area. The previous occupants had left behind a stack of interior design magazines, and Jeremy swept them aside.

This time, Marika talked. About everything other than Doug’s illness. What he liked to eat, the dishes she’d learned to cook from her mother-in-law. How she was thinking of getting a puppy, and did Jeremy think that would be a good or a bad idea with a new baby coming.

The two women appeared close, literally leaned against each other for support.

When Jeremy asked about Marika’s family, Mrs. Vilardi answered for her. “They both passed on. Her poor mama was very young. Rosanna was one of my best friends, a wonderful, wonderful person. When she got sick, I used to take Mari in, to give her a quiet place to play, because Joe- her dad- was working and all she had was this aunt who was… you know.”

She smiled uneasily.

Marika said, “I had a crazy aunt.”

“That’s how Doug came to know Mari, from my taking her in all the time. Then Joe passed and it was convent boarding school but she came to visit all the time. Back then Dougie wasn’t interested in girls, right, honey?”

She nudged Marika.

The young woman said, “I was a skinny little stick with funny teeth, and Doug was into sports.”

Mrs. Vilardi said, “Oh, you were always a cutie.” To Jeremy: “I always loved this one, a real good girl. Tell the truth, I thought she’d be perfect for my other boy, Andy. But you never know, right, baby?”

“You sure don’t, Mom.” Marika’s eyes misted up.

“Dr. Carrier, do you come from a big family- excuse my getting personal and all, but you just seem to have that warm heart.”

“Pretty large,” said Jeremy.

“Nice people, I bet.”

“Very nice- I’ll come by later to see how he’s doing.” He squeezed her hand, then Marika’s, and stood.

“Thanks as always, Doctor- I didn’t offend you, did I? By asking about your family?”

“Not at all.” Jeremy patted her shoulder for punctuation.

“Good,” she said. “Because just for a second I thought you looked… like I offended you. I’m sure it’s me, I’m probably seeing everything screwy. Going out of my head with all that’s going on, you know.”

“You need to rest,” said Jeremy.

“You’re important to Dougie, Doctor. Back- the other time, he always said you were the only one treated him like a human being.”

“He did,” agreed Marika. “He told me that, too.”

Jeremy smiled. “That’s what he is. A human being.”

“He’s gonna be okay,” said Mrs. Vilardi. “I can feel it.”

As evening approached, with just over an hour to go before he trailed Ted Dirgrove, Jeremy located Angela through the House Staff office. She’d rotated to Endocrinology. He went there, and the charge nurse pointed to an examining room.