Devil's Waltz by Jonathan Kellerman Read Free Book Online Page A

jumpy.”
    “Jumpy in what way?”
    “Has trouble concentrating. Other times she can concentrate on something for a long time — an hour or more. I look for those times, try to read to her, talk to her. So that her speech will pick up. Any other suggestions?”
    “Sounds like you’re on the right track,” I said.
    “Sometimes I get the feeling she doesn’t talk because she doesn’t have to. I guess I can tell what she wants, and I give it to her before she has to talk.”
    “Was that what happened with the headache?”
    “Exactly. She woke up crying and tossing around. First thing I did was touch her forehead to see if she was warm. Cool as a cucumber. Which didn’t surprise me — it wasn’t a scared cry. More of a pain cry. By now I can tell the difference. So I started asking her what hurt and she finally touched her head. I know it doesn’t sound scientific, but you just kind of develop a feel for a child — almost like radar.”
    Glance at the bed. “If her CAT scan hadn’t come back normal that same afternoon, I would have really been scared.”
    “Because of the headache?”
    “After you’re here long enough, you see things. Start thinking of the worst things that can happen. It still scares me when she cries out at night — I never know what’s going to happen.”
    She broke into tears again and dabbed at her eyes with the crumpled tissue. I gave her a fresh one.
    “I’m really sorry, Dr. Delaware. I just can’t stand to see her hurt.”
    “Of course,” I said. “And the irony is that the very things that are being done to help her — the tests and procedures — are causing her the most pain.”
    She took a deep breath and nodded.
    I said, “That’s why Dr. Eves asked me to see you. There are psychological techniques that can help children deal with procedural anxiety and, sometimes, even reduce the pain itself.”
    “Techniques,” she said, echoing the way Vicki Bottomley had, but with none of the nurse’s sarcasm. “That would be great — I’d sure appreciate anything you could do. Watching her go through her bloodwork is like… It’s just horrible.”
    I remembered what Stephanie had said about her composure during procedures.
    As if reading me, she said, “Every time someone walks in that door with a needle, I just freeze inside, even though I keep smiling. My smiles are for Cassie. I try really hard not to get upset in front of her but I know she’s got to feel it.”
    “The radar.”
    “We’re so close — she’s my one and only. She just looks at me and she knows. I’m not helping her but what can I do? I can’t just leave her alone with them.”
    “Dr. Eves thinks you’re doing great.”
    Something in the brown eyes. A momentary hardening? Then a tired smile.
    “Dr. Eves is wonderful. We… She was the… She’s really been wonderful with Cassie, even though Cassie won’t have anything more to do with her. I know all these illnesses have been horrible for her, too. Every time the E.R. calls her, I feel bad about putting
her
through it again.”
    “It’s her job,” I said.
    She looked as if I’d struck her. “I’m sure with her it’s more than just a job.”
    “Yes, it is.” I realized the LuvBunny was still in my hand. I was squeezing it.
    Fluffing its tummy, I put it back on the ledge. Cindy watched me, stroking her braid.
    “I didn’t mean to snap,” she said, “but what you just said — about Dr. Eves doing her job — it made me think about
my
job. Being a mother. I don’t seem to be pulling that off too well, do I? No one
trains
you for that.”
    She looked away.
    “Cindy,” I said, leaning forward, “this is a tough thing to go through. Not exactly business as usual.”
    A smile danced across her lips for just an instant. Sad madonna smile.
    Madonna-monster?
    Stephanie had asked me to keep an open mind but I knew I was using her suspicions as a point of departure.
    Guilty till proven innocent?
    What Milo would call limited thinking. I