Brass Ring Read Online Free PDF Page A

her voice, without success. It was truly terrific news, but she couldn’t seem to shake herself free from Detective Patrick’s phone call. “Would you like to know what I learned from the police?” she asked.
    “Of course.” If he was put off by her lackluster response to his news about the conference, he didn’t show it. He took a bite from his sandwich and looked at her expectantly.
    She repeated the information Detective Patrick had relayed to her, and he listened with interest. He even asked a few questions, but when she had told him all she knew, he glanced at his watch.
    “We’ll have to figure out the best way to handle the Accessibility Conference,” he said. “We have to make the most of this invitation. Do you think we should host a reception in the hotel?”
    His voice sounded far away. She rubbed her temples with the tips of her fingers. “I’m sorry, Jon. I’m having trouble thinking about anything other than Margot right now.”
    He looked at her over the rim of his Coke can. “You sound as though she was a personal friend. She was a stranger, Claire. And you did all you could for her.”
    She sighed, looking down at the untouched sandwich on its paper plate. “I know.”
    Jon leaned forward to reach across the desk, and she met his hand halfway with her own. “I think about the other night sometimes, too,” he said. “It feels like a dream to me. The snow. The darkness. I feel as though it didn’t really happen.”
    She wished she shared that sense of unreality. Every detail of those few minutes on the bridge was sharp and clear in her mind, and her body jerked involuntarily just thinking about it. She tightened her grip on his hand.
    Jon was looking at her oddly. “Are you all right?” he asked.
    “I’m fine.” She let her hand slip from the desk to her lap. “I just wish I knew what her diagnosis was. Why was she in the hospital for so long?”
    “Well, we can guess.” Jon shifted in his chair. He seemed tired and restless, as he always did when he’d missed a few days at the gym. “Three years is a long, long time. She was delusional. Hallucinating. Obviously psychotic. And obviously a danger to herself.”
    Claire leaned forward. “But was she always that way? And who was she really? Did she have any family? Did she leave any children behind?”
    Jon gave her a wry smile. “You really can’t let go of this, can you?”
    She ran her fingertip around the rim of her Coke can. “I think I need to understand, for my own peace of mind, why she would do what she did.”
    Jon balled up his lunch bag and tossed it, with perfect aim, into the wastepaper basket in the corner. “Two points,” he said with a satisfied nod of his head. He looked at Claire again. “Maybe you need to prepare yourself for the fact that there might not be any answers.”
    She barely heard him. She looked out the window at the snowcovered trees. “Margot St. Pierre,” she said. “Someone once cared enough about her to give her a beautiful name.”

4

    SEATTLE, WASHINGTON
    A COLD SEATTLE RAIN was falling outside Lassiter Hospital for Children as Vanessa Gray stepped through the automatic doors into the lobby. She closed her umbrella and pulled the scarf from her straight blond hair before walking toward the elevator. The traffic had been abysmal, and she was going to be more than a little late for rounds. But then, she was the attending physician in the adolescent unit; they wouldn’t start without her.
    The four men and two women, all in their early to mid-twenties, were sitting in a half circle on the plastic and chrome chairs in the small conference room. The junior resident, one fellow, two interns, and two medical students all wore their white jackets, crisp and bright against the dark blue chairs. They were laughing when she opened the door, but quickly sobered. They had started their new rotation in adolescent medicine a couple of weeks earlier. None of them was certain yet how much levity she