Invasion

9

4:15 P.M.

“Do you want phenytoin?” Dr. Draper yelled at Dr. Sheila Miller. Dr. Draper was one of the senior residents in the emergency medicine program at the University Medical Center.

“No!” Sheila snapped. “I don’t want to take any chances on causing an arrhythmia. Give me ten milligrams of Valium IV now that we have the airway secured.”

The city ambulance had called earlier to report that they were bringing in a forty-two-year-old diabetic who was in the throes of a major seizure. Considering what had happened with the seizing, diabetic woman the day before, the whole ER team, including Dr. Sheila Miller, had turned out for this new emergency.

Upon arrival the man had been taken directly into one of the bays where his airway had been given top priority. Then stat blood work had been drawn. Concurrently monitors were attached followed by a bolus of IV glucose.

Since the seizing had continued, more medication was necessary. That was when Sheila decided on the Valium.

“Valium given,” Ron Severide said. Ron was one of the evening RNs.

Sheila was watching the monitor. Remembering what had happened with the woman the day before, she did not want this patient to arrest.

“What’s the patient’s name?” Sheila asked. By that time the patient had been in the ER for ten minutes.

“Louis Devereau,” Ron said.

“Any other medical history besides the diabetes?” Sheila asked. “Any cardiac history?”

“None that we’re aware of,” Dr. Draper said.

“Good,” Sheila said. She began to calm down. So did the patient. After a few more jerks, the seizing stopped.

“Looking good,” Ron said.

No sooner had this positive assessment escaped from Ron’s lips than the patient starting convulsing again.

“That’s amazing,” Dr. Draper said. “He’s seizing in the face of both the Valium and the glucose. What’s going on here?”

Sheila didn’t respond. She was too busy watching the cardiac monitor. There’d been a couple of ectopic beats. She was about to order some lidocaine when the patient arrested.

“Don’t do this,” Sheila cried as she joined the others in a resuscitation effort.

In a fashion eerily similar to the experience with the woman the day before, Louis Devereau went from fibrillation to flatline no matter what the ER team did. To their great chagrin they had to admit defeat once again, and the patient was pronounced dead.

Feeling anger at the inadequacy of their effort, Sheila snapped her gloves off her hands and threw them forcibly into the appropriate container. Dr. Draper did the same. Together they walked back toward the main desk.

“Get on the phone with the medical examiner,” Sheila said. “Make sure you convey to him the necessity of trying to figure out what caused this death. This can’t go on. These were both relatively young patients.”

“They both were insulin-dependent,” Dr. Draper said. “And both had had long-term diabetes.”

They reached the expansive ER desk. There was a lot of activity.

“So when has middle-aged diabetes become a fatal illness?” Sheila asked.

“Good point,” Dr. Draper said.

Sheila glanced into the waiting room, and her eyebrows lifted. There were so many patients that there was standing room only. Ten minutes previously there’d been the normal number for that time of day. She turned to ask one of the clerks sitting behind the desk if there was some explanation for the sudden crowd and found herself looking at Pitt Henderson.

“Don’t you ever go home?” she asked. “Cheryl Watkins told me you were back here hours after a twenty-four-hour shift.”

“I’m here to learn,” Pitt said. It was a planned retort. He’d seen her approach the desk.

“Well, good grief, don’t burn out,” Sheila said. “You haven’t even started medical school yet.”

“I just heard that the diabetic who’d just come in passed away,” Pitt said. “That must be very hard for you to deal with.”

Sheila looked down at this college senior. He was surprising her. Only the morning before he’d irritated her by sloshing her coffee all over her arm in a room where he had no business being. Now he was being uncharacteristically sensitive for a college-aged male. He was also attractive, with his coal-black hair and dark, liquid eyes. In a fleeting instant, she wondered how she would respond if he were twenty years older.

“I have something here that you will want to see,” Pitt said. He handed her a printout from the lab.

Sheila took the sheet and glanced at it. “What is this?” she asked.

“It’s the blood work on that diabetic who died yesterday,” Pitt said. “I thought you might be particularly interested because all the values are entirely normal. Even the blood sugar.”

Sheila scanned the list. Pitt was right.

“It will be interesting to see what today’s patient’s values are,” Pitt said. “From the reading I’ve done, I can’t think of any reason the first patient should have had a seizure.”

Sheila was now impressed. None of the other college students who’d come through on the clerking program had shown such a degree of interest. “I’ll count on you to get me the blood work on today’s patient,” she said.

“My pleasure,” Pitt said.

“Meanwhile,” Sheila said, “do you have any idea why there are so many people in the waiting room?”

“I think so,” Pitt said. “It’s probably because most of the people delayed coming in until after work. They’re all complaining of the flu. Checking through the records from yesterday and today, we’ve been seeing more and more people with the same symptoms. I think it’s something that you should look into.”

“But it’s flu season,” Sheila said. She was even more impressed. Pitt was actually thinking.

“It might be flu season, but this outbreak seems unique,” Pitt said. “I checked with the lab, and they have yet to have a positive test for influenza.”

“Sometimes they have to grow the influenza virus in tissue culture before they get a positive test. That can take a few days.”

“Yeah, I read that,” Pitt said. “But in this instance I think it’s strange because all these patients have had a lot of respiratory symptoms, so the virus should be there in a high titer. At least that’s what it said in the text I was reading.”

“I have to say I’m impressed with your initiative,” Sheila said.

“Well, the situation worries me,” Pitt said. “What if it is a new strain, maybe a new illness? My best friend got it a couple of days ago, and he was really sick, but only for a number of hours. That doesn’t sound like regular old flu to me. Besides, after he’d recovered he hasn’t been himself. I mean he’s been healthy, but he’s been acting strange.”

“How do you mean strange?” Sheila asked. She began to consider the possibility of viral encephalitis. It was a rare complication of influenza.

“Like a different person,” Pitt said. “Well, not totally different, just a little different. The same thing seems to have happened to the principal of the high school.”

“You mean like a slight personality change?” Sheila asked.

“Yeah, I suppose you could say that,” Pitt said. He was afraid to tell her about Beau’s apparent increase in strength and speed and the fact that Beau had occupied the room that had become distorted; Pitt was afraid he’d lose all credibility. He was nervous about talking to Dr. Miller as it was and wouldn’t have approached her on his own accord.

“And one other thing,” Pitt said, thinking that he’d come this far and might as well let it all out. “I checked the chart of the diabetic woman who died yesterday. She had had flu symptoms before she got her seizure.”

Sheila stared into Pitt’s dark eyes while she pondered what he’d said. Suddenly she looked up and called out to Dr. Draper, asking him if Louis Devereau had had flu symptoms before he had his seizure.

“Yes, he did,” Dr. Draper said. “Why do you ask?”

Sheila ignored Dr. Draper’s question. Instead she looked down at Pitt. “About how many patients have we seen with this flu and how many are waiting?”

“Fifty-three,” Pitt said. He held up a sheet of paper where he’d kept a tally.

“Jesus H. Christ,” Sheila said. For a moment she stared off down the hall with unseeing eyes and chewed the inside of her cheek while she considered the options. Looking back at Pitt she said: “Come with me and bring that sheet of paper!”

Pitt struggled to catch up with Sheila who was moving as if on a power walk. “Where are we going?” Pitt asked as they entered the hospital proper.

“The president’s office,” Sheila said without elaboration.

Pitt squeezed onto the elevator with Dr. Miller. He tried to read her face but couldn’t. He didn’t have any idea why he was being taken to the administration. He worried it was for disciplinary purposes.

“I’d like to see Dr. Halprin immediately,” Sheila said to the head administrative secretary. Her name was Mrs. Kapland.

“Dr. Halprin is tied up at present,” Mrs. Kapland said with a friendly smile. “But I’ll let him know you are here. Meanwhile can I get you coffee or perhaps a soft drink?”

“Tell him it’s urgent,” Sheila said.

They were kept waiting for twenty minutes after which the secretary escorted them into the administrator’s office. Both Sheila and Pitt could tell that the man was not feeling well. He was pale and coughing almost continuously.

After Sheila and Pitt had taken chairs, Sheila concisely summarized what Pitt had told her and suggested that the hospital take appropriate action.

“Hold on,” Dr. Halprin said between coughs. “Fifty cases of flu during flu season is not a reason to scare the community. Hell, I got the bug myself, and it isn’t so bad, although if I had the choice, I suppose I’d be home in bed.”

“That’s fifty-plus cases at this hospital alone,” Sheila said.

“Yes, but we are the major hospital in the community,” Halprin said. “We see the most of everything.”

“I’ve had two deaths of previously well-controlled diabetics who’ve possibly died of this illness,” Sheila said.

“Influenza can do that,” Dr. Halprin commented. “Unfortunately we all know it can be a nasty illness for the aged and the infirm.”

“Mr. Henderson knows of two people who’ve had the illness and who have demonstrated personality changes as an aftermath. One of those people is his best friend.”

“Marked personality change?” Halprin asked.

“Not marked,” Pitt admitted. “But definite.”

“Give me an example,” Dr. Halprin asked while he blew his nose loudly.

Pitt related Beau’s sudden carefree attitude and the fact that he’d skipped a whole day of classes to go to museums and the zoo.

Dr. Halprin lowered his tissue and eyed Pitt. He had to smile. “Excuse me, but that hardly sounds earth-shaking.”

“You’d have to know Beau to realize how surprising it is,” Pitt said.

“Well, we’ve had some experience with this illness right here in this office,” Dr. Halprin said. “Not only do I have it today but both of my secretaries had it yesterday.” He bent over and pressed his intercom button. He asked both secretaries to come into his office.

Mrs. Kapland appeared immediately and was followed by a younger woman. Her name was Nancy Casado.

“Dr. Miller is concerned about this flu bug that’s going around,” Dr. Halprin said. “Perhaps you two could set her mind at ease.”

The two women looked at each other, unsure of who should speak. As the more senior employee Mrs. Kapland started.

“It came on sudden, and I felt terrible,” she said. “But four or five hours later I was on the mend. Now I feel wonderful. Better than I have in months.”

“It was pretty much the same for me,” Nancy Casado said. “It started with a cough and sore throat. I’m sure I had a fever although I never took my temperature so I don’t know how high it went.”

“Do either of you think the other’s personality has changed since your recovery?” Dr. Halprin asked.

Both women giggled and covered their mouths with their hands. They looked at each other conspiratorially.

“What’s so funny?” Dr. Halprin asked.

“It’s just a private joke,” Mrs. Kapland said. “But to answer your question, neither of us feel our personalities have changed. Do you think so, Dr. Halprin?”

“Me?” Dr. Halprin questioned. “I don’t think I have time to notice such things, but no, I don’t think either one of you has changed.”

“Do you know others who have been ill?” Sheila asked the women.

“Many,” they said in unison.

“Have you noticed a change in anyone’s personality?” Sheila asked.

“Not me,” Mrs. Kapland said.

“Nor I,” Nancy Casado said.

Dr. Halprin spread his hands out, palm up. “I don’t think we have a problem here,” he said. “But thanks for coming over.” He smiled.

“Well, it’s your call,” Sheila said. She stood up.

Pitt did the same, and he nodded to the president and the secretaries. As his eyes met Nancy Casado’s, he noticed that she was looking at him in a curiously provocative way. Her lips were slightly parted and the tip of her tongue played within the shadows. As soon as she could see he was looking at her, she let her eyes roam up and down his body.

Pitt quickly turned and followed Dr. Miller out of the president’s office. He felt uncomfortable. All at once he had an appreciation of what Cassy had been trying to tell him that morning after their visit to the room Beau had occupied in the student overnight ward.

Balancing her books, purse, and some take-out Chinese food, Cassy managed to get her key in the door and the door open. Entering, she kicked the door closed.

“Beau, are you home yet?” she called as she unburdened herself on the small table next to the door.

A deep, threatening growl made the hairs on the back of Cassy’s neck stand straight up. The growl had been very close. In fact it sounded as if it had been right behind her. Slowly she raised her eyes to the decorative mirror above the entrance table. Just to the left of her image was the image of a huge light-brown bull mastiff with its enormous canines bared.

Ever so slowly so as not to upset the already perturbed animal, Cassy rotated to face it. Its eyes were like black marbles. It was a fearsome creature that stood taller than her waist.

Beau, munching an apple, appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Whoa, King! It’s okay. This is Cassy.”

The dog stopped growling and turned toward Beau and cocked his head to the side.

“It’s Cassy,” Beau repeated. “She lives here too.”

Beau pushed off the doorjamb, gave King a pat and told him “good boy” before giving Cassy a solid kiss on the lips. “Welcome, lover,” Beau said breezily. “We’ve been missing you. Where have you been?”

Beau moved over to the couch and draped himself over the arm.

Cassy hadn’t moved a muscle. Nor had the dog except for his brief look at Beau. He wasn’t growling any longer, but he’d continued to fix her with his baleful stare.

“What do you mean, where have I been?” Cassy asked. “You were supposed to pick me up. I waited for half an hour.”

“Oh yeah,” Beau said. “Sorry about that. I had an important meeting and there was no way to get in touch with you. You told me yourself you could get a ride easy enough.”

“Yes, when it’s planned,” Cassy said. “By the time I realized you weren’t coming, everyone I knew had left. I had to call a cab.”

“Jeez!” Beau said. “I’m sorry. Really I am. There’s just a lot going on all of a sudden. How about I take you out to dinner tonight to your favorite place, the Bistro?”

“We were just out last night,” Cassy said. “Don’t you have work to do? I brought home some Chinese food.”

“Well, whatever you want, sweetie,” Beau said. “I feel badly about leaving you in the lurch this afternoon, so I’d like to make it up to you.”

“Just the fact that you’re willing to apologize goes a long way,” Cassy said. She then looked down at the immobile dog.

“What’s the story with this beast?” she asked. “Are you minding it for someone?”

“Nope,” Beau said. “He’s my dog. His name is King.”

“You’re joking,” Cassy said.

“Hardly,” Beau said. He hauled himself from the arm of the couch and stepped over to King. He scratched him roughly behind the ears. King responded with tail wagging and licking Beau’s hand with his enormous tongue. “I figured we could use the protection.”

“Protection from what?” Cassy asked. She was dumbstruck.

“Just in general,” Beau said vaguely. “A dog like this has olfactory and auditory senses far better than ours.”

“Don’t you think we should have discussed this decision?” Cassy asked. Her fear was turning to anger.

“We can discuss it now,” Beau said innocently.

“Good grief!” Cassy voiced angrily. She picked up the Chinese take-out and walked into the kitchen. She took the containers out of the bag and got plates from the cupboard, making sure the door banged against its hinges. From the drawer next to the dishwasher she got flatware and noisily set the table.

Beau appeared at the door. “There’s no need to get upset,” he said.

“Oh yeah?” Cassy questioned as tears unwillingly welled up. “That’s easy for you to say. I’m not the one acting weird, like going out in the middle of the night and coming home with a dog the size of a buffalo.”

Beau stepped into the kitchen and tried to put his arms around Cassy. She pushed him away and ran into the bedroom. She was sobbing now.

Beau came in behind her and put his arms around her, and she didn’t resist. For a moment he didn’t say anything and let her cry. Finally he turned her around and looked into her eyes, and she into his.

“Okay,” he said. “I’m sorry about the dog too. I should have talked to you about the idea, but my mind has been so overwhelmed. I’ve got so many things going on right now. I’ve heard back from the Nite people. I’ll be going out there to meet them.”

“When did you hear from them?” Cassy asked, wiping her eyes. She knew how much Beau was counting on getting a job with Cipher Software. Maybe there was an explanation for his odd behavior.

“I heard from them today,” Beau said. “It’s all so promising.”

“When will you go?” Cassy said.

“Tomorrow,” Beau said.

“Tomorrow!” Cassy repeated. Things were happening too quickly. It was an emotional overload. “Weren’t you going to tell me?”

“Of course I was going to tell you,” Beau said.

“And you really want a dog?” Cassy asked. “What will you do with him when you go visit the Nite people?”

“I’ll take him,” Beau said without hesitation.

“You’ll take him on an interview trip?”

“Why not? He’s a wonderful animal.”

Cassy digested this surprising information. From her perspective it seemed inappropriate to say the least. Having a dog seemed incompatible with their lifestyle.

“Who’s going to walk him when you’re in class? And feed him. Having a dog is a lot of responsibility.”

“I know, I know,” Beau intoned, raising his hands as if to surrender. “I promise to take care of him. I’ll take him out, feed him, pick up after him, and punish him if he chews any of your shoes.”

Cassy smiled in spite of herself. Beau sounded like the cliché of the small boy pleading with his mother to get a dog while the mother knows full well who will end up assuming the burden of taking care of the pet.

“I got him from the pound,” Beau said. “I’m sure you’ll like him, but if you don’t, we’ll take him back. We’ll consider the whole thing an experiment. After a week we’ll decide.”

“Really?” Cassy asked.

“Absolutely,” Beau said. “Let me get him so you can meet him properly. He’s a great dog.”

Cassy nodded, and Beau left the room. Cassy took a deep breath. So much seemed to be happening. Heading for the bathroom to wash her face, Cassy noticed that Beau’s computer was running some weird, rapid program. Cassy hesitated and looked at the monitor. Data in the form of text and graphics was appearing and disappearing from the screen at bewildering speed. Then she noticed something else. Sitting in front of Beau’s infrared port was the curious black object that Beau had found a few days previously in the parking lot of Costa’s Diner. Cassy had forgotten it, and remembering that the men had said it was heavy, she reached for it.

“Here’s the monster,” Beau called, diverting Cassy’s attention. Following Beau’s commands, King was happy to bound over to Cassy and lick her hand.

“What a rough tongue,” Cassy said.

“He’s a great dog,” Beau said, beaming.

Cassy patted King’s flank. “He is solid,” she said. “How much does he weigh?” She was wondering how many cans of dog food he’d need each day.

“I’d guess about one-twenty-five,” Beau said.

Cassy scratched King behind the ear, then nodded toward Beau’s computer. “What’s going on with your PC? It looks like it’s running out of control.”

“It’s just downloading some data off the Internet,” Beau said. He stepped over to the machine. “I guess I could turn off the monitor.”

“You’re going to print all that?” Cassy said. “You’ll have to get a lot more paper than we have.”

Beau switched off the monitor but made certain the light on the hard drive kept up its rapid blinking.

“So what’s it going to be?” Beau said, straightening up. “The Chinese take-out or the Bistro. It’s your call.”

Beau’s eyes snapped open simultaneously with King’s. Pushing up on one elbow Beau glanced across Cassy’s sleeping form to see the time. It was 2:30 A.M.

Being careful to keep the bedsprings from squeaking, Beau eased his legs from beneath the covers and stood up. He patted King’s head before slipping on his clothes. Then he moved over to his computer. A moment earlier the red light on his hard drive had finally stopped blinking.

He picked up the black disc and slipped it into his pocket. Using a notepad next to his computer he scribbled: “Gone for a walk. Be right back. Beau.”

After placing the note on his pillow, he and King silently left the apartment.

Beau exited the building and walked around to the parking lot. King stayed at his side without a leash. It was another gorgeous night with the broad stripe of the Milky Way galaxy arching directly overhead. There was no moon, and the stars appeared more dazzling as a consequence.

Toward the rear of the parking lot Beau found an area devoid of cars. Taking the black disc from his pocket, he placed it on the asphalt. Almost the moment it left his hand, it began to glow. By the time Beau and King were fifty feet away it had begun to form its corona and was beginning to turn from red to white-hot.

Cassy had been sleeping restlessly all night with anxiety-filled dreams. She had no idea what had awakened her, but all at once she found herself staring at the ceiling. It was being progressively illuminated by an unusual light.

Cassy sat up. The whole room had a peculiar, mounting glow, and it was apparent that it was streaming in through the window. As she began to slip out of bed to investigate, she noticed Beau was absent just as he’d been the night before. This time, however, she could see that there was a note.

Taking the note with her, Cassy padded across the floor to the window and looked out. She saw the source of the glow immediately. It was a white ball of light which was rapidly increasing its intensity so that the surrounding cars were casting dark shadows.

In the next instant the light disappeared as if it had been suddenly snuffed out. It gave Cassy the impression it had imploded. An instant later she heard a loud whooshing sound that ended equally abruptly.

Having no idea of what she’d just seen, Cassy wondered if she should call the police. While debating with herself, she started to turn back into the room when movement out in the parking lot caught her attention. Refocusing her eyes, she saw a man and a dog. Almost immediately she recognized Beau and King.

Certain he must have seen the ball of light, she was about to yell down to him when she saw other figures emerge out of the shadows. To her surprise thirty or forty people mystically appeared.

There were a few streetlights bordering the parking area, so Cassy could just make out some of the faces. At first she didn’t recognize anyone. But then she saw two people she thought she knew. She thought she saw Mr. and Mrs. Partridge!

Cassy forced herself to blink several times. Was she really awake or was this a dream? A shudder passed through her. It was terrifying to be confused about her sense of reality. It gave her an immediate appreciation of the horror of psychiatric illness.

Looking again Cassy saw that the people had all congregated in the center of the parking lot. It was as if they were having a clandestine meeting. She thought briefly about putting on her clothes and going out to see what it was all about, but she had to admit to herself that she was frightened. The whole situation was surreal.

Then suddenly she had the sense that King had spotted her at the window. The dog’s head had turned in her direction, and his eyes glowed like a cat’s eyes when a light is shined in them. A bark from King made all the people look up, including Beau.

Cassy stepped back from the window in shocked surprise. All the people’s eyes were glowing like King’s. It gave her a shiver, and again she had to wonder if she were dreaming.

She stumbled back to her bed in the darkness and turned on the light. She read the note, hoping there might be some explanation, but it was completely generic. She put the note on the night table and wondered what she should do. Should she call the police? If she did, what would she say? Would they laugh at her? Or if they came would it turn out to be a big embarrassment if there were some reasonable explanation.

All at once she thought of Pitt. Snapping up the phone, she started to dial. But she didn’t finish. She remembered it was three o’clock in the morning. What could he do or say? Cassy replaced the receiver and sighed.

Cassy decided she’d just have to wait for Beau to return. She had no idea what was going on, but she was going to find out. She’d confront Beau and demand that he tell her.

Having made a decision, even a passive one, Cassy felt a little less anxious. She leaned back against her pillow and tucked her hands behind her head. She tried not to think about what she’d just seen. Instead she made a conscious effort to relax by concentrating on her breathing.

Cassy heard the front door to the apartment squeak, and she sat bolt upright. She’d been asleep which made her wonder if she’d been dreaming after all. But a glance at the bedside table revealed Beau’s note, and the fact that the light was on told her it had not been a dream.

Beau and King appeared at the doorway with Beau carrying his shoes. He was trying to be quiet.

“You’re still awake,” Beau said. He sounded disappointed.

“Waiting for you,” Cassy said.

“I trust you got my note?” Beau asked. He tossed his shoes into the closet and started peeling off his clothes.

“I did,” Cassy said. “I appreciated it.” Cassy struggled with herself. She wanted to ask her questions but she felt a reluctance. The whole situation was like a nightmare.

“Good,” Beau said. He disappeared into the bathroom.

“What was going on out there?” Cassy called out, marshalling her courage.

“We went for a walk like the note says,” Beau called back.

“Who were all those people?” Cassy called.

Beau appeared in the doorway toweling off his face.

“Just a bunch of people out walking like me,” Beau said.

“The Partridges?” Cassy questioned sarcastically.

“Yeah, they were there,” Beau said. “Nice people. Very enthusiastic.”

“What were you talking about?” Cassy asked. “I saw you from the window. It was like a meeting.”

“I know you saw us,” Beau said. “We weren’t hiding or anything. We were just talking, mostly about the environment.”

A sardonic half laugh escaped from Cassy. Under the circumstances she couldn’t believe Beau would make such a ridiculous statement. “Yeah, sure,” she intoned. “Three o’clock in the morning there’s a neighborhood meeting on the environment.”

Beau came over to the bed and sat on the edge. His expression was one of deep concern.

“Cassy, what is the matter?” he asked. “You’re so upset again.”

“Of course I’m upset,” Cassy yelled.

“Calm down, dear, please,” Beau said.

“Oh, come on, Beau. What do you take me for? What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” Beau said. “I feel wonderful, things are going great.”

“Don’t you realize how strange you’ve been acting?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Beau aid. “Maybe my value system is shifting, but hell, I’m young, I’m in college, I’m supposed to be learning.”

“You haven’t been yourself,” Cassy persisted.

“Of course I have,” Beau said. “I’m Beau Eric Stark. The same guy I was last week and the week before that. I was born in Brookline, Mass., to Tami and Ralph Stark. I have a sister named Jeanine, and I... ”

“Stop it, Beau!” Cassy cried. “I know your history isn’t different, it’s your behavior. Can’t you tell?”

Beau shrugged his shoulders. “I can’t. I’m sorry, but I’m the same person I’ve always been.”

Cassy let out a sigh of exasperation. “Well, you’re not, and I’m not the only person who’s noticed it. So has your friend Pitt.”

“Pitt?” Beau questioned. “Well, now that you mention it, he did say something about me doing some unexpected things.”

“Exactly,” Cassy said. “That’s just what I’m talking about. Listen! I want you to see somebody professional. In fact we’ll both go. How’s that?” Cassy let out another short sarcastic laugh. “Hell, maybe it’s me.”

“Okay,” Beau said agreeably.

“You’ll see someone?” Cassy said. She’d expected an argument.

“If it will make you feel better, I’ll see someone,” Beau said. “But of course it will have to wait until I get back from meeting with the Nite people, and I don’t know exactly when that will be.”

“I thought you’d just be going for the day,” Cassy said.

“It will be longer than that,” Beau said. “But exactly how long I won’t know until I get there.”