Death of an Adept

"Oh, there you are, mi corazon!" she exclaimed. "I was hoping I might catch you as you came in. Your father is having a chat with Mrs. Jenny. It seemed a good time for me to slip out and stretch my legs - and to exercise my maternal curiosity."

Before Ximena could speak, her mother's liquid dark eyes transferred their gaze to Adam, and the smile grew warmer still.

"There can be no doubt that you are the dashing Scottish gentleman of whom our daughter has spoken at such length. It is a great pleasure at last to be meeting you, Dr. Sinclair."

Her voice was deeper than Ximena's, her English overlaid with the stately accents of her Andalusian homeland. Taking the slender hand she held out to him, Adam raised it to his lips in courtly salute.

"The pleasure is mine, Senora. And no one regrets the delay more than I do."

"Ah, I perceive that you have the manners of a grandee, Dr. Sinclair. But I hope that will not prevent you from addressing me as Teresa," she said with a bit of a twinkle in her eye.

"Only if you agree to call me Adam," he replied, releasing her hand.

"That I will do," she agreed, shitting to draw Ximena into a fond hug, though her twinkle quickly faded as they drew apart. "But we must not keep your father waiting. He has waited a very long time for this moment."

Alan Lockhart had been installed in a private room not far from the nurses' station. His visitors arrived to find the door standing partly open. A petite, dark-haired young woman in a neat grey suit and clerical collar was standing just inside the doorway, jotting down entries in the notebook she carried in the crook of one arm.

"I'm glad you remembered that one," Adam heard her say. "It's always been one of my favorites. Did you have anyone in mind for a soloist, or will you trust me to find someone? I've got more than a few contacts over at the university music school - some lovely voices."

An indistinct murmur came from within the room. Adam could make out nothing of the words, but the woman paused to write down something more in her notebook.

"I'll see what I can do," she promised. "I'll make some phone calls and get back to you in the next few days. In the meantime, I'd better say goodbye. I'm due over at the Student Mission Center at four, and I've got a couple of other people to see before I leave."

Turning, she pulled up short as she became aware of Teresa Lockhart and her companions.

"You mustn't go just yet, Jenny," Teresa said with a smile, motioning her to come into the corridor. "Here is Ximena, and a gentleman from Scotland whom we both would very much like you to meet. His name is Dr. Adam Sinclair, and I am told he ranks as an expert consultant in the field of psychiatric medicine. Dr. Sinclair, allow me to present the Reverend Jenny Carstairs, one of our hospital chaplains."

"For my sins!" Jenny Carstairs directed an ironic glance toward the ceiling, then extended a firm hand and a pixie-like smile. "Nice to meet you, Dr. Sinclair. I understand you just flew in this morning."

"I did," Adam replied. "I was addressing a medical symposium in Houston, and I was delighted to escape."

"Well, I'm sure everyone is delighted that you did," she said. "I've heard very nice things about you."

"Probably greatly exaggerated," Adam protested, with an amused glance at both Ximena and her mother.

"Jenny has been a great comfort to all of us," Teresa said, her smile still in place but shading into sadness. "Sometimes I don't know what we would have done without her, especially these past few months."

"Now, Teresa, that's giving me far more credit than I deserve," the chaplain answered robustly. "You and the rest of your family have been the real workhorses."

"Speaking of which, where's Austen?" Ximena asked. "I thought he and Laurel were going to hold the fort until I got here."

Jenny Carstairs gave her hand a pat. "Your father had a few things he wanted to discuss with me in private, so your brother volunteered to make a run down to the cafe in search of coffee. Laurel and Emma have gone down to Mrs. Chang's room so that Emma can show off her costume for the Christmas play."

"My granddaughter is a gregarious soul," Teresa explained wryly. "She has made friends with several of the other patients here. Mrs. Chang is a particular favorite. She can make animals out of folded paper. As far as Emma is concerned, origami might as well be magic."

"Maybe it is," Adam said with a smile, thinking of Mc-Leod. "I have a friend with a similar interest. I'm not sure there isn't some magic in the way he gets his results."

"Well, I told Laurel I'd let her know as soon as we were finished here," the chaplain said. "Dr. Sinclair, I'm happy to have met you, but I'd better be on my way. Goodbye for now, and I hope I'll be seeing you again. Teresa, Ximena - I'll check back with you in the morning."

With a farewell wave, she headed off down the hall. As her footsteps receded, Ximena drew herself up and summoned an air of determined calm.