Rune Alignment

Chapter 38

"Let's go! Let's go! Stabilize her already! She has family out there. Someone go prepare them for the worst."

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­+

Everyone turned when Bobby exited the restroom and watched as he returned to the waiting room. The same officer approached him and Bobby handed him the pack back. They spoke briefly and shook hands. The officer walked to Eames, they spoke briefly and she gave him Bobby's suit coat, then the officer returned to his partner. They spoke briefly and then they left.

Bobby again took a seat away from everyone. He slouched in the seat and laid his right ankle across his left thigh, set his elbows on the arms of the chair and laced his fingertips against his mouth. He closed his eyes.

Eames wanted to talk with Bobby, but was afraid to. Her mind continued to try to wrap itself around what he had said. He didn't mean it, she said to herself, it was the rage, he was so angry, he was upset. . . She would not let herself even think about the exchange that they had had at the elevator earlier today – when she convinced him he was wrong about picking up Elliott. He thinks this is all my fault. I know it is, Bobby, I know it and I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

Forty minutes later, the receptionist in the surgical waiting room called out, "Wintermantle family." Bobby shot up and strode to the desk; Bishop and Eames followed.

"I'm here for Wintermantle," Bobby told the woman.

"Please meet with the doctor in room three around the corner. This way."

Bobby's heart stopped, he couldn't breathe.

Eames stepped beside him and asked, "Is she ok?"

"Please meet with the doctor, room three." The attendant's eyes were kind and sad. Her skin was flawless, yet her eyes bore lines from watching worry and prayer for so many years.

Bobby walked the direction the attendant had indicated. "Bobby?" Eames called. He ignored her and turned the corner.

"All right, tell me why Dr. Wintermantle was at the university today when she was supposed to be at home." Sledge asked the graduate student, Brandon. They were sitting in an empty classroom on the first floor of Belzberg Hall. Sledge had gone there after sending Bobby's backpack to the hospital.

"I told you, she called me last night and asked if I could cover her classes for a few days. She never really said why, she just said she had a major problem that would keep her out for a couple of days. I know she called Dean Boyer because the dean called me and asked if I was prepared to take her classes. I said 'sure'." Brandon answered.

"Did you cover her class this morning?"

"Yes, her first class is at eight fifteen till nine forty-five, 'Written Dialects.' It's a small graduate class, only eight students. We pretty much sat around and talked about stuff – dialect stuff, I mean. We debated the significance of ancient slang on the development of a society's vocabulary. Then we –."

"Yeah, yeah, fascinating," Sledge cut him off. "So, why was Dr. Wintermantle at the university when she was supposed to be at home?"

"I-don't-know. I didn't know she was even there until I saw her lying on the floor." Brandon paused, looked at the scratched desktop and asked softly, "Is Dr. Wintermantle going to die?"

"We all die. This morning, did she call you or anyone else?"

Brandon looked at the detective with shock. "I've told you everything I know. You'll need to talk to someone else to get what you're looking for." Brandon stood up, lifted his pack back and left.

Shit, Sledge said to himself, I've got no bedside manner. He looked at his list of names, Carolyn Majors, c'mon down. He stood and went to call the next person into his impromptu interrogation room.

Bobby found the room, entered, shut the door and sat in one of the three chairs, the one facing the door. The room was bland. A print of a window looking out into a field of wildflowers hung on the wall. A small table held a lamp and box of tissues. He sat forward with his elbows on his knees; he still couldn't draw a full breath. The minutes ticked by. He stared at the floor.

The door opened and Bobby stood up. A different doctor entered with his hand out and the two men shook. "I'm Dr. Patel, a member of Ms Wintermantle's team. Are you her husband?"

Bobby whispered, "No."

"I need to prepare you for the worst. She's had another incident and they've taken her directly into surgery. It is not looking good. You need to be ready for her not to survive." He looked at the giant detective and saw a frightened little boy. "I am very sorry. Are you here by yourself?" Bobby shook his head. "Do you want me to tell the others?"

Bobby shook his head and sobbed out, "No. Can I, can I, stay here for a minute?"

Dr. Patel put a gentle hand on Bobby's arm and said, "Take all the time you need." He left and shut the door. The doctor stopped at the reception desk and spoke with the attendant who glanced at Eames and Bishop and nodded.

"We've got a pulse," a nurse announced.

"Then let's go," said Dr. Creighton.

Two orderlies wheeled Gleason into a surgical suite; someone flipped a switch and the room filled with the music of Vivaldi.

Carolyn Majors turned out to be the secretary in the faculty offices. Her nose was raw and her eyes were red. She appeared to be in her mid-sixties. Sledge reminded himself to go easy, this lady is a wreck. "Ms Majors, I'm Detective Sledge. I need your help in finding out why Dr. Wintermantle was at the university when she had arranged to be away for a few days."

Ms Majors sniffed, wiped her nose and nodded.

"Did Dr. Wintermantle call in this morning?"

Another sniff, wipe and nod.

"Did you take the call?"

Sniff, wipe nod.

"What did she say?"

"She, she, she, she's always been so lovely. She's kind and thoughtful. So beautiful. I wish my Davy wasn't so gay, she'd be so good for him."

Sledge rubbed his forehead and bit his tongue. "I'm sure she is all of those things. Now, what did she say when she called this morning?"

"I love to hear her talk, her little bit of accent, you know. I don't really know where . . . "

"Ms Majors! Please, what did the professor say when she called? Please."

The secretary looked up at the detective sitting on the edge of the teacher's desk. Her attitude changed and she answered, "She wanted to know if anyone was available to run her laptop to her. She said she was unable to leave. She wanted to continue working on her book."

"Thank you, Ms Majors, thank you, very good. So, why was Dr. Wintermantle at the university when she was supposed to be at home?"

Ms Majors looked at Sledge as if he was an idiot. "You're the detective, what do you think?"

Sledge looked at his sweet woman and could have rung her neck. "Ok, I think no one was available to take her computer to her. She's such a sweet thing, she didn't want to bother you. So, she got in a cab, came in, came up here, walked to her office, got her machine, walked back out and got shot in the back. How's that? Am I right?"

Ms Majors' mouth fell open, her eyes went wide, her hand flew to her chest and she said menacingly, "You are a nasty man," got up and left.

"Hey, one more thing, Ms Majors," the woman stopped and turned, "did you see the professor's hand bag anywhere? Was it left in her office, in the hallway? Do you know where it is?"

Carolyn Majors looked at this nasty man, thought a moment, and then said, "If I'd found it, I'd have brought it with me, to give to you. Do you see it, detective? So, I guess I didn't find it. Good day." She turned and left.

Crap.