Devil's Waltz by Jonathan Kellerman Read Free Book Online

fingered the ends. “I sure hope so. But…”
    I smiled but said nothing.
    She said, “The other things were more… typical. Normal — if that makes any sense.”
    “Normal childhood diseases,” I said.
    “Yes — croup, diarrhea. Other kids have them. Maybe not as severe, but they have them, so you can understand those kinds of things. But seizures… that’s just not
normal
.”
    “Sometimes,” I said, “kids have seizures after a high fever. One or two episodes and then it never recurs.”
    “Yes, I know. Dr. Eves told me about that. But Cassie wasn’t spiking a temp when she had hers. The other times — when she had gastrointestinal problems — there were fevers. She was burning up, then. A hundred and
six
.” She tugged the braid. “And then that went away and I thought we were going to be okay, and then the seizures just came out of nowhere — it was really frightening. I heard something in her room — like a knocking. I went in and she was shaking so hard the crib was rattling.”
    Her lips began to quiver. She stilled them with a hand. Crushed the tissue I’d given her with the other.
    I said, “Scary.”
    “
Terrifying,
” she said, looking me in the eye. “But the worst thing was watching her suffer and not being able to do anything. The helplessness — it’s the worst thing. I knew better than to pick her up, but still… Do you have children?”
    “No.”
    Her eyes left my face, as if she’d suddenly lost interest. Sighing, she got up and walked to the bed, still carrying the crumpled tissue. She bent, tucked the blanket higher around the little girl’s neck, and kissed Cassie’s cheek. Cassie’s breathing quickened for a second, then slowed. Cindy remained at the bedside, watching her sleep.
    “She’s beautiful,” I said.
    “She’s my
pudding
pie.”
    She reached down, touched Cassie’s forehead, then drew back her arm and let it drop to her side. After gazing down for several more seconds, she returned to the chair.
    I said, “In terms of her suffering, there’s no evidence seizures are painful.”
    “That’s what Dr. Eves says,” she said doubtfully. “I sure hope so… but if you’d have seen her afterward — she was just
drained
.”
    She turned and stared out the window. I waited a while, then said, “Except for the headache, how’s she doing today?”
    “Okay. For the little she’s been up.”
    “And the headache occurred at five this morning?”
    “Yes. She woke up with it.”
    “Vicki was already on shift by then?”
    Nod. “She’s pulling a double — came on last night for the eleven-to-seven and stayed for the seven-to-three.”
    “Pretty dedicated.”
    “She is. She’s a big help. We’re lucky to have her.”
    “Does she ever come out to the house?”
    That surprised her. “Just a couple of times — not to help, just to visit. She brought Cassie her first LuvBunny, and now Cassie’s in love with them.”
    The look of surprise remained on her face. Rather than deal with it, I said, “How did Cassie let you know her head hurt?”
    “By pointing to it and crying. She didn’t tell me, if that’s what you mean. She only has a few words.
Daw
for dog,
bah-bah
for bottle, and even with those, sometimes she still points. Dr. Eves says she’s a few months behind in her language development.”
    “It’s not unusual for children who’ve been hospitalized a lot to lag a bit. It’s not permanent.”
    “I try to work with her at home — talking to her as much as I can. I read to her when she’ll let me.”
    “Good.”
    “Sometimes she likes it but sometimes she’s really jumpy — especially after a bad night.”
    “Are there a lot of bad nights?”
    “Not a lot, but they’re hard on her.”
    “What happens?”
    “She wakes up as if she’s having a bad dream. Tossing and turning and crying. I hold her and sometimes she falls back to sleep. But sometimes she’s up for a long time — kind of weepy. The morning after, she’s usually