Death of an Adept

Saloa blew out softly through pursed lips. "I knew he was stubborn," he murmured. "I guess it took a psychiatrist to get it out of him. The question is, Can he hold on for another thirty-six hours?"

"I think so," Adam replied, "though you'll want to continue his previous medication at about half the dose. And you are planning to attend the wedding, aren't you? I know it's Christmas Eve, and that's family time, but it would mean a great deal to this family. Alan thinks very highly of you, and he hasn't got long."

"Do you think he'll see the new year?" Saloa asked quietly.

"No. I don't think he'll see Christmas morning."

Saloa sighed, shaking his head. "A tough call. But it will be a mercy."

"Aye, it will. For all concerned."

"Right," Saloa said with another sigh. "I'll see to that change of medication on his orders. I expect you and Ximena ought to be heading for the airport."

The pair of them met Philippa's plane at San Francisco Airport, where holiday congestion only amplified the usual stir that accompanied Adam's mother when she travelled. Philippa embraced Ximena warmly, even before greeting Adam, holding her in a comforting hug for a long moment; and though they would have taken her back to the hospital to meet Ximena's family straightaway, she elected to retire early instead.

"We'll all be more rested in the morning," she said, firmly bidding them good night at the door to her hotel room. "Ximena, ring your mother from the lobby and tell her I'm exhausted from jet lag. See if she can join us for breakfast tomorrow, and then the two of you take some time for yourselves tonight."

"I adore your mother," Ximena said as they returned to the hotel car park. "When it comes to making a grand entrance, she'd put the likes of Cleopatra to shame."

Adam acknowledged Ximena's tribute with a chuckle. At seventy-seven, Philippa Sinclair had lost none of her ability to command attention wherever she went. On this occasion, she had been the cause of a minor stir when one helpful gentleman had collided with another whilst vying for the privilege of retrieving one of her suitcases from the baggage carousel.

" 'Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale her infinite variety,' " he quoted lightly. "My father was fond of saying that he was glad duelling had gone out of fashion by the time he met Philippa Rhodes, else he would never have had a moment's peace in his life. Do you like the ring?" His mother had handed him the red morocco-leather ring box once the three of them were settled in Ximena's car.

"Like it?" she exclaimed. "It's magnificent! - though you do realize that I'm also going to have to have a plain gold band to wear when I'm working."

"She told me you'd say that," Adam said happily. "Will you mind waiting until after we get back to Scotland? I don't think there will be time tomorrow."

"You can marry me with the Rhodes sapphire," she replied, hooking her arm through his. "And then I'll wear that as my engagement ring. Meanwhile, there was some talk of that Fisherman's Wharf expedition we missed yesterday, if you don't think it will be too cold."

Adam grinned and gave a snort. "This is San Francisco, my dear, not tropical Scotland."

She laughed with delight as they got into the car.

A light breeze was blowing steadily off the ocean as they made their tour of the many open-air establishments for which the Wharf was famous, dining on fried clams and chips and then indulging in gourmet ice cream at Ghirardelli Square. Though Adam thoroughly enjoyed the experience, he couldn't help noticing that Ximena's mood had darkened with the coming of sunset.

"Not having second thoughts, are you?" he asked, as they paused to gaze out at the lights on Alcatraz Island. "About the wedding, I mean?"

Ximena looked slightly startled at the suggestion. "Good heavens, no!" she exclaimed. "What makes you ask?"

Adam shrugged lightly. "You've been rather silent since we stopped to watch the sun go down. I was wondering what was on your mind."

"Nothing of any consequence," Ximena said, not looking at him. "It's just that - "

She paused, her brow furrowing pensively. "Adam, this all seems so… rushed. There's so much to do, and so little time to do it in." She shook her head. "When I phoned Edinburgh Royal Infirmary to ask about the possibility of getting my old job back, the last thing I expected was to be told to show up for work in ten days' time. Much as I appreciate being considered a unique asset, you have to admit that's cutting things a bit fine at this end."

"You don't have to go back to ERI," Adam said. "There are bound to be other jobs."

Ximena pulled a slightly crooked grin. "But I like that one. After all, I helped set up the program. No, this is nothing short of a gift from heaven, and I'd be a fool not to take it.

At the same time, though, the prospect of actually going means that - "

She stopped short and glanced away furtively. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "Whenever I let myself start thinking about the future, I automatically think about - "