"As someone who's in the process of going through it, I'd have to agree, although the social worker did make an attempt. But American medicine has always been like that. Technology has been the driving force, pulling the sociology of patient care behind."

"I wish I knew how to be more supportive for you."

"I'm afraid at the moment you really can't be. I'm caught up in my own personal odyssey. But that doesn't mean I'm not appreciative of your thoughts, and you have been supportive."

"What about tonight? Can we get together?"

Laurie peered into Roger's pale eyes. It bothered her that she wasn't being forthright, but she could not get herself to tell him she was pregnant and was having dinner with Jack because she and Jack had conceived a child. It wasn't that she thought he couldn't handle it, because she thought he could. It was more because of her sense of privacy, and until she told Jack, she didn't want to share it with anyone, even someone she cared for, such as Roger.

"We could have an early dinner," Roger urged. "We don't even have to talk about the BRCA issue if you don't want to. Maybe I'll already have some personnel data from here or Saint Francis. I mean, it's possible I could get some, even though, as you say, it's Friday."

"Roger, with everything that has happened to me recently, I need some space, at least for a few days. That's the kind of support I need. Can you try to live with that?"

"Yes, but I don't like it."

"I appreciate your understanding. Thank you." Laurie stood up again, and Roger did the same.

"Can I at least call you?"

"I suppose, but I don't know how much I'll want to talk. Maybe it would be better for me to call you. I'm taking it a day at a time."

Roger nodded and Laurie did the same. There was a brief, awkward moment of silence before Roger reached out and gave Laurie another hug. Her response was as restrained as it had been earlier. Laurie flashed a weak smile and started to leave.

"One other question," Roger said. He stepped between Laurie and the door. "Does any part of this 'difficult time' you've described have anything to do with my still being married?"

"To be honest, I suppose a small amount," Laurie admitted.

"I certainly regret not telling you, and I'm sorry. I know I should have earlier on, but at first it seemed presumptuous you'd care. I mean, I'd gotten to the point I didn't care myself, like it was a non-issue. Then, when we got to know each other, and I'd fallen in love, and I knew you would care, I was embarrassed for not having told you sooner."

"Thank you for apologizing and explaining. I'm sure it will help put the issue behind us."

"That's my hope," Roger said. He gave Laurie's shoulder a tender squeeze, then opened his office door. "We'll talk."

Laurie nodded. "For sure," she agreed, and then walked out.

Roger watched Laurie wend her way among the desks and start down the long corridor. He watched her until she was out of sight, then closed his door. As he moved around his desk and sat down, her scent wafted in the air like a wraith. He was concerned about her, and he was worried that he'd botched their relationship by not being forthright with her, and, more damning, he hadn't come clean. He was still holding back things that she had the right to know if their relationship was to grow, and, worse yet, he wasn't telling her the truth about things that he'd already told her. Contrary to what he had suggested, there were unresolved aspects of his relationship with his wife, including unrequited love on his part, which he had not had the courage to tell Laurie, even though she had had the courage to tell him something similar regarding her former boyfriend, Jack.

Roger's biggest secret from everyone, including his current employers, was that he was a former addict. While in Thailand, he had fallen into the trap of heroin addiction. It had started innocently enough, as a kind of experiment ostensibly so he could better understand and treat patients with the problem. Unfortunately, he had underestimated the drug's seductiveness and his own weaknesses, especially since the heroin was so freely available. It was at this time that his wife and children left him for the protection of her powerful family. It was also the reason he was transferred to Africa and eventually dismissed from the organization. And even though he had gone through an extensive program of rehabilitation and had been reasonably drug-free for years, the specter of the addiction problem still haunted him every day. One problem was that he knew he drank too much. He loved wine and was surreptitiously drinking at least a bottle a night, which made him worry that he was allowing alcohol to become a substitute for heroin. As a physician, particularly one who'd gone through rehab, he knew the risks.

Roger would have agonized longer, but luckily he had the series of suspicious deaths to occupy his thoughts. Although he had been curious about them on his own, it was Laurie's commitment to them that had fanned his interest. He'd used the series to foster a relationship with her, and it had worked superbly. As the weeks had gone by, he'd become enthralled with her and began to think that his idea of coming back to the States to salvage some kind of normal life with a new wife, new kids, and the proverbial white picket fence were within his grasp. Then, with a slip of the tongue, disaster had struck. Now he needed the series more than ever as a kind of glue to hold things together. The sooner he got the employee lists she suggested, the better. If he was really lucky and came up with something, he could call her that evening and take it over to her apartment.

Roger used the intercom on the phone to get in touch with Caroline, the most efficient secretary. He asked her to come into his office. Next, he got out the hospital phone directory and looked up the director of the human resources department. His name was Bruce Martin. Roger copied down his extension number, and while he was doing so, Caroline appeared and hovered expectantly in the doorway.

"I need some names and phone numbers over at Saint Francis hospital," Roger called out. His voice reflected his sudden zeal. "I want to talk to the chief of the medical staff and the director of human resources as soon as possible."

"Should I get them on the line," Caroline asked, "or do you want to make the call yourself?"

"Get them on the line!" Roger ordered. "Meanwhile, I'll have a quick chat with our own Mr. Bruce Martin."

As Laurie came through the front door of the OCME office, she glanced at her watch. She was appalled. It was almost noon. The taxi ride from the Manhattan General Hospital had taken an incredible hour and a half. She shook her head. New York could be like that, with all of midtown snarled in traffic like an enormous blood clot. The driver had explained that some major dignitary was in town, although he didn't know whom. Unfortunately, the visit required certain streets to be closed off for the motorcade. As soon as that happened, the entire central portion of the city came to a screeching halt.

Marlene buzzed Laurie in through the main door such that Laurie had to pass the administration area. She was afraid to look through open door, lest Calvin catch sight of her. If she had known she was going to be gone for so long, she would have filled out the two pesky death certificates before she left.

Luckily, the elevator was waiting, so Laurie didn't have to stand fully exposed in the main hall to anyone coming out of administration. As she rode up, she wondered if Roger would follow up on her suggestion and do the detective work she proposed. The more she thought about the idea, the more optimistic she became that it would lead to something. But even if it didn't, it would at least give her the feeling that something was being done about the problem. She didn't even want to think about the individual tragedies that the deaths of young, healthy people in the prime of their lives were causing for their families and loved ones.