Dream Lover by Suzanne Jenkins Read Free Book Online

From the street, it appeared to be a modest Cape Cod with a large, three-car carriage house in the front. The garden was lovely; salt-tolerant perennials grew in colorful clumps along a split rock path to the front door. As they walked the path, the true size of the house became evident. It was a trick to the eye. The door was eight feet tall and wide enough for two adults to go through side by side, yet from the curb, it had looked like a gnome’s door.
    Pam greeted them both warmly and led them into a wide hallway. But it was what lay beyond the low-ceilinged hallway that took the women’s breath away; a large set of sliding glass doors opened up to a vast veranda right out of House Beautiful . And then, the vista of the sea. The dunes rose just high enough to obscure the beach. The only thing one could see from that vantage point was the very tips of the beach umbrellas and the vast blue of the Atlantic Ocean. The doors were open and the sounds of gulls calling, of the surf hitting the sand, and of children’s laughter made Betty and Maggie want to take their shoes off and run to join them. They immediately relaxed, staring at the water and saying nothing.
    Pam laughed aloud. “It’s the magic of the sea,” she said. “Enjoy it while you are here.” She stood in the doorway and swept her hand toward the veranda. “Come and sit, won’t you? I have a light snack for you.” She would struggle to stay in character no matter what these interlopers threw at her. Faking peace had gotten her this far.
    The women moved forward, mesmerized. Later, Betty said she didn’t remember even arriving at the house. It was as though they went from the car to sitting on the veranda in one movement. Betty pulled her chair out without taking her eyes off the water. Maggie couldn’t stop looking around.
    “Check out that rock garden. I might have to take a picture later,” she whispered, reaching into her briefcase to pull out the paperwork she had on Pamela Smith. It was the law that hospitals and laboratories send the names of new HIV-positive cases to the Department of Health for surveillance data. She also had Partner Notification forms, which were not mandatory in the state of New York. It was ethical and moral to tell the interviewers who your sex partners were, but it was not illegal if you chose not to do so.
    In the case of a dead person, what the team had planned on doing by taking out a cryptic ad was considered illegal by some factions, but could be supported if the behavior of the decedent was so promiscuous that many lives were endangered. Also, if a person known to be HIV-positive infected many partners in a wanton manner, which may be the case here, a court order would absolve the team from criminal charges if the family found out and sued. There was always the risk that a citizen who became infected with AIDS by a person known to the Department of Health could sue if he or she had not been notified by the department. There were so many angles. The staff always tread lightly. The women wanted to err on the side of conservatism, but their boss was quicker to act. It was his head that would be on the chopping block.
    Pam Smith was a known HIV case because her physician had contacted the health department and sent in the required paperwork. She had been on the list of people to interview. When her husband’s blood tests were found, she moved to the front of the list. No one wanted to disturb the peace of another human being, but it had to be done. As though she were entertaining long-lost friends, Pam returned with a tray of iced tea and cake. But the illusion would not last for long.
    “Mrs. Smith, do you understand why we are here?” Betty asked. Pam acknowledged that she did, gritting her teeth. “We want you to know that everything we say here is confidential. Also, that some of the questions we ask may be painful for you to answer. You are under no legal obligation to reveal anything to us. If you feel like we