Terminal

“The police came to the Forbes residence,” Sean said. “Gary Engels talked with them. I think someone got the tag number from my license plate after the alarm went off at the funeral home.”

“Oh, no!” Janet exclaimed. “Then the police are looking for us.”

“Correction,” Sean said. “They’re looking for me.”

“Oh, God!” Janet said. “If someone saw the license plate then they saw both of us.” She closed her eyes. This was the kind of nightmare she’d feared.

“All they have is a tag number,” Sean said. “That’s hardly evidence.”

“But they can get our fingerprints,” Janet said.

Sean shot her a look of mild disdain. “Be serious,” he said. “They’re not about to send a team of crime scene investigators out to dust the site over a broken window and a cadaver’s missing brain.”

“How do you know?” Janet shot back. “You’re no law enforcement expert. I think we should turn ourselves in to the police and explain everything.”

Sean gave a scornful laugh. “Please! We’re not giving ourselves up. Don’t be ridiculous. Remember, they’re looking for me. They want to talk with me. If worse comes to worst, I’ll take the rap. But it’s not going to come to that. I put in a call to Brian. He knows people in Miami. He’ll fix it.”

“Did you speak to Brian?” Janet asked.

“No, not yet,” Sean admitted. “But I left a message on his answering machine. When we get to the hotel, I’ll try again and leave the hotel number if he’s still not in. By the way, did you bring your credit card?”

“Of course I brought my credit card,” Janet said.

“Thank heaven for your trust fund,” Sean said. He reached over and gave Janet’s knee a playful slap. “I made a reservation at the Ritz Carlton. The Quality Inn was full.”

Janet stared out the passenger-side window, wondering what she was doing with her life. It had nothing to do with the credit card issue. She didn’t mind picking up the tab every now and again. Sean was generous with his money when he had it, and she had more than enough. What bothered her was the fact that they were wanted by the police. It was gallant of Sean to offer to take the rap alone, but Janet knew she couldn’t let him do it even if it did fly, which it probably wouldn’t. Whoever had seen that license plate had seen her too. Falling in love with Sean seemed to be bringing her nothing but grief, first emotionally and now potentially professionally. She wasn’t sure how the Forbes Center would react to having a nurse on staff who was charged with God knows what in connection with a funeral home break-in. She couldn’t think of too many employers who would view that kind of record as a plus.

Janet was on the verge of panic, yet there was Sean, as calm and cocky as ever. He really seemed to be enjoying himself. How he could be so cool and collected knowing the Miami police were searching for him was beyond her. She wondered if she would ever truly understand him.

“What’s the story with Naples, Florida?” Janet asked, deciding to change the subject. “You said you’d explain once we were on our way.”

“Very simple,” Sean said. “One of the patients from that group of thirty-three lives in Naples. His name is Malcolm Betencourt.”

“One of the medulloblastoma patients in remission?” Janet asked.

“Yup,” Sean said. “One of the first to be treated. He’s been in remission for almost two years.”

“What do you plan to do?”

“Call him up.”

“And say what?”

“I don’t know exactly,” Sean said. “I’ll have to improvise. I think it would be interesting to hear about the Forbes treatment from the patient’s point of view. I’m especially curious as to what they told him. They had to have told him something just to get the informed consent forms signed.”

“What makes you think he’ll talk to you?” Janet asked.

“How could he resist my Irish charm?” Sean said.

“Seriously,” Janet said. “People don’t like to talk about their infirmities.”

“Infirmities, perhaps,” Sean admitted. “But recovery from an otherwise terminal illness is something else. You’d be surprised. People love to talk about that kind of thing and the world-famous doctor who made it happen. Have you ever noticed how people like to think their doctor is world famous, even if he practices someplace like Malden or Revere?”

“I think you have a lot of chutzpah,” Janet said. She wasn’t convinced that Malcolm Betencourt would be receptive to Sean’s call, but she also knew she wouldn’t be able to do anything to prevent Sean from trying. Besides, except for this new worry about the Miami police, the idea of a weekend away was still delicious, even if Sean had an ulterior aim in mind. She even thought that she and Sean might finally have a moment to talk about their future. After all, aside from Malcolm Betencourt, she’d have Sean to herself without interruption.

“How did you make out with the sample of Louis Martin’s medicine?” Janet asked. She thought she’d keep the conversation light until they got to dinner. She could imagine a candlelight dinner on a terrace overlooking the sea. Then she’d talk about commitment and love.