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“Considering the circumstances, I’m sure the prosecution will bring it up…which means it’s for the jury to decide. ”
“That’s fine. But I’m not going to answer a question that suggests I was involved in any way. I haven’t been implicated in that crime.”
She jots a series of notes down on her legal pad. “I understand. Her father’s death. At what point did Laurel first bring it up?”
“He was dying from the first moment I accessed him. In a sense, you and I are no different. We’re all racing against waning clocks.”
“But his actual death, Dr. Hastings? As it occurred.”
“She didn’t bring it up, per se. Like I said, as his physician, it was evident his condition was declining. It was my job to offer my medical opinion on how to make the process most comfortable.”
She cocks her head. “So you see death as a process?”
“It depends.”
“My records show it was in late April, approximately, that the final conversation about his care took place.”
“That sounds right.”
“And how was Mrs. Dunaway? How did she seem?”
“Distraught, slightly.”
“Can you expand upon that?”
“She was less herself.”
“How so?”
“I don’t know. She seemed to have drawn inward some.” This was true, in more ways than one. It’s not uncommon for people in Laurel’s position. It happens. Grief is
a nasty beast. And the sad fact was, it did something to me, seeing her like that. An instinct kicked in that I hadn’t known I possessed.
Over the span of a few weeks, Laurel’s cheeks had sunken in, and her eyes, once vibrant and challenging, were mostly vacant. There was only one place I saw her truly alive, and it wasn’t when she was with her father. I don’t say any of this to Dr. Jones, of course. It’s none of her business.
“After the first time you met at Belmond…you mentioned Mrs. Dunaway said that it wouldn’t happen again.”
“That’s what she said.”
“So what led to the subsequent encounters?”
“Usually, she texted me.”
“And then what? You’d book a room?”
“Yes.”
“How exactly would you classify Mrs. Dunaway’s mental state over the course of your sexual relationship?”
“That’s not my area of expertise.”
She shifts in her chair. “You’re aware that you don’t have to talk to me, Dr. Hastings?”
“Yes.”
“You could just sit silently. Or refuse my visits all together.”
“That’s correct.”
