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“There are plenty of other places in the city where you could get that first-class gin you’re looking for.”
I looked down at the martini glass in front of me. I downed the rest of it and stood, pulling my wallet out of my pocket and throwing a twenty on the counter.
I looked over at Mike again and threw another twenty down. “Buy Mike here a couple more drinks if he wants them,” I said to Lucky.
“Didn’t mean to chase you out of here,” Mike said.
“You didn’t. I just have no business being here. See, I didn’t come down here to stop in the bar.”
“Yeah, I was pretty sure you hadn’t. Why did you come here?”
I wasn’t going to tell Mike about my penchant for getting my ass whooped. And hey, didn’t the fact that I stopped this time count for something? An empty alley wouldn’t have stopped me before. I’d have just kept walking until I found someone to pick a fight with.
I needed to see Melanie. I wanted to discuss this with her. Maybe she couldn’t be my therapist anymore, but I felt an overwhelming urge to open up to her. I didn’t relish telling her that I got my ass beaten on purpose, but she was a trained professional. She would understand. Even when I didn’t quite understand myself.
But even then, no matter how much I yearned to open up, I knew I wouldn’t tell her. At least not yet.
“I don’t know, Mike. I really don’t know.”
“Sit back down for a while. Maybe I can help.”
“No one can help me. I’ve tried.” I gave him a pat on the back and walked out.
Chapter Twelve
Melanie
My phone buzzed once again while I was waiting to be taken in to see Erica Cates, Gina’s mother. It was Jonah again. He’d called several times during my walk to Valleycrest Hospital, but I hadn’t picked up. I sighed. Sooner or later I’d have to deal with Jonah Steel, but right now, all I could think about was Gina’s mother, here in the mental wing of Valleycrest. I wasn’t sure coming to see her was a good idea, but I had to know that she was okay. That she would live.
I had privileges at Valleycrest, so I figured it wouldn’t be any problem to get in to see Mrs. Cates. Because of the nature of the situation, though, I had to jump through a few hoops. Dr. Cates had said his wife had been repeating my name, or what he thought was my name. Did that mean she wanted to see me, or did it mean something else?
One of my favorite nurses, Beth, walked toward me. “Dr. Carmichael, she does agree to see you, but I need to stay with you while you visit with her.”
“That’s fine, Beth. I understand. I really just want to make sure she’s all right.”
My words sounded foolish. Of course she wasn’t all right. She’d tried to end her life, and she had lost her only daughter less than a year before. How the hell was she supposed to be all right?
“Her life hasn’t been in danger,” Beth said.
“I’m thankful for that. Who is the doctor working with her?”
“Dr. Bennett.”
Miles Bennett was a decent physician, but his bedside manner wasn’t the best. I’d always wondered why he chose psychiatry as a specialty. In psychiatry, a doctor who didn’t have a good bedside manner usually didn’t get very far. Miles worked exclusively with hospitalized psychiatric patients instead of taking patients for psychotherapy as I did. Rarely had I had to hospitalize any of my patients, though there had been a few over the years. I was familiar with the mental health staff here at Valleycrest.
“When was the last time Dr. Bennett was in to see Mrs. Cates?” I asked.
“This morning, during rounds.”
Beth led me into a private room. A dark-haired woman, brown eyes sad and sunken, lay on the bed, her head propped up with several pillows.
“Mrs. Cates?” Beth said. “This is Dr. Carmichael.”
“Hello, Mrs. Cates,” I said.
The woman did not turn toward me. “Hello,” she replied.
“Thank you for allowing me to see you.”
