Hunter's Moon.htm (24 page)

"This is Dr. Corbin," said a pleasant tenor. "Who is this?"

"Trouble. With a capital T. How you doin', John-Boy?"

There was a sigh deep enough that it came over the speaker. "I really hate it when you call me that, Tony."

"Hey." I shrugged automatically even though I knew he couldn't see me. "You started it."

"We were kids! We grew up."

We could continue bantering all day but I had other issues. "Yeah, well… anyway, I need an appointment for a new patient."

Dr. John Corbin is one of the top psychiatrists in the city. He's also a childhood friend. I trusted him to help Sue get through some of her problems. I hadn't been lying. I wasn't a therapist or a social worker. John is. Sue needed someone to help her work through stuff— with her mom and with me. If she could heal some of her pain maybe there wouldn't have to be a final act to the play.

I really wanted to believe that.

"Finally decided to get your head examined after all these years, huh? About time." John knows full well what I do for a living. He's Family too.

"My head is just fine," I replied. "I'm perfectly well adjusted."

There was a pause. His voice grew deadly serious. "I wish I could believe that, Tony."

I didn't respond to that comment. Well-adjusted is a state of mind. Anyone— mother, hooker, teacher, accountant, killer— can be comfortable in their roles. I am.

"This is for a friend. She needs someone to talk to."

"Fine." A small sound that might have been a tired laugh came from the speaker. There was a pause and shuffling of papers. "I can fit her in next month, around the 20th."

"I'm about one minute from your office, John-Boy." Only a trace of humor remained.

"Tony! Jeez, buddy. I was about to walk out for the day."

I pulled into the parking lot and drove to the opposite end. "And I'm about to walk in." Sue watched me with amazement. "Let's see, the black Mercedes is yours?"

"Yeah… " he responded slowly. "Why?"

It was the only car at the north end of the parking lot. I parked cross-ways behind it. "I just blocked you in. Now you have time to see us." Sue laughed but the tears were still near the surface, hot and salty.

There was another long-suffering sigh. I have that effect on him. "I take it my patient is in the car with you?"

"Suzi Lynette Quentin. Have Karen make a file."

"Whoa, whoa. I know that name. Wasn't she on the front page last year? The Lotto winner?"

"The same. See, I even bring clients who can afford you. Am I a pal or what?"

He was laughing when I hung up. Sue got out of the car. When she looked at me, her face was etched with sorrow. I could feel her betrayal and hurt. "Even you think I'm crazy?"

I smiled at her and thought warm fuzzies that I hoped would reach her. "You're not crazy. You've just some stuff in your head that I can't help you with. I want you to make an informed choice on whether or not you want to end it. John will help you make that choice." She smelled surprised. Nothing more.

We walked into the building and checked in with the guard. I flashed my carry license and showed him my piece. He didn't ask to keep it but he did write down my name and permit number.

"Why do you call him John-Boy if he doesn't like it?" she asked as we entered the elevator.

I smiled at her. "His name is John Walton Corbin. The middle name is his mother's maiden name. Keeps the family heritage going, you know? So, John Walton? John-Boy Walton?" I smiled hopefully.

She got the joke but it wasn't as funny to her as it still is to me. I shrugged. "What can I say? It was a hot show when we were kids. Besides, he started it."

"You said that. How did he start it?" A little humor was finally reaching her voice as we stopped at the seventh floor.

It was nice to know that she listened well. "You heard what Vinny called me when I got the drop on him?"

She got an embarrassed look. "Actually, no. I was a little preoccupied."

"Tony the Nose. I've been saddled with that moniker for nearly thirty years."

She stared at me briefly and then laughed. "Tony the Nose?" Dr. Corbin gave you that name?"

I shrugged but grinned. "Hey, I had a big nose as a kid. I grew into it but nicknames stick."

"Tony the Nose… " she repeated and tried, without success, to fight back a grin. She smelled nervous but it was blending with amusement. Good. Nervous is better than hurt.

We reached John's office. The door had been propped open. I pushed it open carefully, shielding Sue with my body. She'd agreed to the fee. I might as well earn it.

John Walton Corbin, M.D., Ph.D., was sitting at the receptionist desk playing solitaire on the computer. The sugary smell of semi-sweet chocolate wafted to me. It's not an emotion. John just smells like chocolate.

"I think holding a doctor hostage is a felony in some states," he remarked as a greeting. His eyes were twinkling when he said it.

"I'll remember that."

He closed down the computer. "I told Laura that you were buying next time since you canceled our dinner reservations."

I snorted. "I have to buy every time. You're so damn cheap!"

He grinned and then turned to greet Sue. "Hello, Sue. I'm Dr. Corbin. It's a pleasure to meet any friend of Tony's. His friends are some of my best customers. He's not insane but I've suspected for years that he's a carrier."

Sue smiled broadly and citrus blended with the chocolate. Nice. "Well, he's not dull." She glanced at me and I smiled. John's always been good at putting people at ease.

John led Sue into his office and I cooled my heels in the waiting room. I was glad that he introduced himself as "Dr. Corbin". I wanted to keep their relationship professional. I know I shouldn't be jealous, but damned if I didn't feel a twinge.

Now, I expected to hear their conversation. It's normal, considering my ears. It's why I stayed. I like to know things. But the other, that was just weird.

I didn't expect to experience her every emotion. All of the emotions that I know and a few I didn't blasted at me for over an hour. Not just smells, actual feelings. I fought through tears, laughter, lows, highs. I didn't know what to think when she told him about me.

She wasn't going to at first. But then he interrupted her as she stumbled along trying not to use the word, "Assassin."

I could hear the smile in his voice as he replied. "It's okay, Sue. I know that Tony kills people for a living."

Her voice was small, a tiny squeak of noise. "Oh."

Then she started to open up. She didn't tell him about the wolf part. It hadn't even occurred to me when we arrived, but it should have, damn it. I'll have to mention that subject is taboo. I'm not sure if John would believe her or not. He might, and that could be a problem.

But she had felt betrayed when I actually named a price to do the job. I sensed it, smelled it. Had she expected me to refuse the job? Wouldn't that have gotten the same reaction? I wish I knew what she wanted from me.

John considered what she said for a few moments and the silence stretched. Finally, he asked in a soft voice. "Do you understand why he did that, Sue?"

Her admission followed snuffling and blowing her nose. "No."

I had to agree. I thought I'd just picked a number out of the air. A high one, admittedly, but random.

"I know Tony's normal price for a job, Sue. The fact that it's so unusually high means two things: One— he cares for you a great deal. He doesn't want to see you dead, but he's a businessman. You asked for his services. He'll do it—make no mistake. But he set the price high enough to try to force you to refuse."

Sue's emotions soared. I could hear her heart skip a beat. Or maybe it was mine. Damn. I hate it when he's got me pegged.

"And two— he needs enough money to disappear somewhere for a good long time afterward. Somewhere where he can drown himself in a bottle, or at the tables, or be around so many people that he doesn't have time to think. He knows what he needs to get past losing you. He's smart, Sue. He understands psychology at an almost savant level." He added with a note of chagrin. "He certainly got better grades in college."

"He has a degree!" She sounded surprised. I was a little offended. She just doesn't get that this is a career choice, not merely the only thing I'm capable of doing.

"Yes, indeed— in business, with a psychology minor. It should have been his major, as talented as he was. I just kept going into grad school. He went… well, in a different direction. Still, I wouldn't suggest trying any manipulation on him. Ever. Be straight with him and he'll be straight with you. Provided he isn't lying to you, which he also does better than anyone I know."

No. Lying's reserved for business. Personal life gets too complicated. I'll keep my mouth shut, but I won't lie. John should know that, but I suppose this is a rare exception. I normally don't mix the two.

When the door opened finally, John motioned for me to step in. Sue passed me on the way. She watched the floor intently. She knew I had been a part of the session. She smelled guilty and a little afraid. I touched her shoulder as I walked by and she jumped a foot. She looked at me with startled eyes. I kept my hand on her arm and winked. A shy smile appeared but the guilt didn't go away.

John closed the door behind me. I sat down in a guest chair and noted his wall of fame. He has some very impressive pedigrees: Past-president of the National Psychiatric Council, Johns Hopkins, Notre Dame. All real; each one earned. I like having intelligent friends. Keeps my mind sharp.

He sat and stared silently at me for some time. I ogled him back. I crossed one leg over the other knee and leaned back in the chair. If we were going to have a stare-down, I might as well be comfortable. He smelled puzzled and a little annoyed.

"I'm not sure why you brought Sue to see me," he said. "I originally thought that you were looking for a trumped-up diagnosis… "

I gave a little sniff. "I wouldn't ask you to lie, John. I never have. And I don't think you're going to have to fake anything. What did you find?"

He tapped his fingers on the desk and took a deep breath. Then he leaned back in his high-back chair and laced his fingers behind his head. The springs creaked, sounding loud in the room. He stopped just inches before the balance would have pulled him over backwards. He took a second deep breath and let it out slow.

"You know I can't tell you that, Tony. However, I can say that she is very likely clinically depressed."

"No shit. I could tell you that."

"In short," he concluded seriously. "She's bordering on suicidal."

Oh, way beyond bordering. "I know." I nodded again to confirm it.

He dropped back to a sitting position abruptly, palms landing flat on the smooth wood with a sharp sound. His scent was mildew and burned coffee. Mildew must be amazed. Hey, I learned a new one!

Annoyance edged his voice. "Then why haven't you brought her in before now?"

I laughed and he frowned. "I just met the woman, John. This is the first chance I've had."

His anger reminded me that I needed to let him in on why I'd brought her in. I didn't want him to get the wrong impression, and assume I wanted her to be treated.

"The goal here isn't like your regular ones, John. She probably didn't mention how very suicidal she is." Although I knew she had. My voice flattened with edges of warning tones. John and I have a few philosophical differences. "Understand that she gets to die if she wants to, John. That's her choice. Your only job is to find out if she really wants to. I don't want her to spend years struggling from appointment to appointment with little hope of ever being happy. If she's ready, I'll do my job."

After a moment of internal sorting where his scent changed to thoughtful, he asked, "So what is she to you then, Tony? Why are you trying to help her, instead of just hunt her?"

"That's my business." My smile disappeared. He was fishing for confirmation on his guess to Sue. No dice. My words had a tone of finality. But he would have none of it.

"I've known you for years, Tony. I've seen that look before. You only think that your face is blank. But I can read you like a book."

I settled in. "Give me your best shot."

"You're in love with her." His face was serene.

"No, I'm not!" My temper flared.

He shook his head with amusement. "You always did fall for people with problems."

"Hey! Not always. What about Linda? She's normal."

"Linda?" He guffawed. "You think Carmine's wife is normal?" He rolled his eyes. "Wow!"

His face showed that he was feeling in control. He was wrong. I changed the subject. I didn't admit or deny his earlier statement. "Did she mention her mom's a junkie?" I knew she hadn't so John's raised brows didn't phase me.

He picked up his pen and cocked his head. "How would you know?"

I shrugged. "The nurse told me. Prescription painkillers, mostly— pops Percocets like candy". I raised my hands to add in the quotation marks. "Plus, she has track marks all over her arms." I raised one finger as I remembered, "Also, she's a heavy drinker. I smelled it on her breath."

He added the words "enabler" and "co-dependent" to the list on his pad.

When he was done I leaned back once more. I fixed him with a stare to bring him back to the subject. "So, can you make her happy? Or do I need to start making plans?"

He hedged just like a doctor. He grimaced so slightly that most people wouldn't have noticed. He leaned forward and rested his forearms on the desk, hands clasped in front of him. The body language and the scent said sincere and concerned.

"You know better than anyone that nobody is happy 24/7, Tony. We all have our doubts, our fears, our bouts of depression. I do think that I can help her make an informed decision. I think I can help her want to live."

See, there's that philosophical difference again. The concept that dying isn't an informed decision. Still, John's good. If I keep him on track, he'll end up doing the job I want.

I pointed a finger at him. "Without drugs." I'd met too many people that ended up more screwed up after they started taking medication. Then it really wouldn't be an informed decision.