The Last Surgeon

CHAPTER 20

Nick paced along the crowded walkway in front of the Lincoln Memorial waiting for Jillian to arrive. The afternoon sky was crisp and bright, with only a few passing clouds to block out the three o’clock sun. If Jillian’s analysis of the photograph was accurate, it was around this time, four years ago, that Junie snapped the picture of Nick and Umberto that sent Manny Ferris running for the exit door.

It was after three that morning before Jillian had left the RV. By then, Junie was asleep in the back examining room, and Nick was entangled in a mesh of bewildering feelings surrounding the intense, engaging new arrival in his life. It was Jillian who came up with the idea to take photographs from every conceivable angle around the Lincoln Memorial, then observe Manny’s reaction to each. Maybe there was something to her theory that it wasn’t who was in the picture that so upset the Marine, but what.

To be certain they did not confuse Manny any more than he already appeared to be, Jillian wanted to get the time of their shoot as close as possible to the actual hour the photograph had been taken, in case time of day factored into his intense reaction.

It took some careful study of the photograph’s light and shadow for Jillian to determine the hour. Nick was astounded by her ability to deduce information from a single picture, right down to her figuring out that it was also taken in the springtime, based solely on the clothes worn by pedestrians in the background. He was certain if she had chosen a career in radiology, she would have been a star.

Jillian spotted Nick and called out to him as she hurried over. The last time Nick had experienced anything remotely close to a crush, he and Sarah had just met and were going out on their first date. Now, it was Jillian who had invaded his thoughts. They were supposed to meet by the stone bench, but Nick was too anxious to sit and wait. He tried to attribute his nervous energy to a desire to solve the Manny Ferris mystery, but he knew better.

“Hey you,” she said, “are you ready to be my assistant?”

“You look professional.”

And stunningly beautiful, Nick wanted to add, but fought the urge.

“I thought we were meeting at the bench,” she said. “I was waiting for you there.”

“I guess I got antsy,” Nick said. “Figured I’d start scouting potential shots.”

“Well, I would have brought my Nikon D300 and wide-angle lens, but then I remembered I’m a nurse and about two grand short of being able to afford one, so you’ll have to settle for my Canon Rebel XT. It’s a little like a beagle next to an Irish setter, but they’re both pedigrees.”

“Hey, for all I know about photography, you could have pulled out a shoe box and told me we’re doing this with a pinhole camera. Consider me your loyal assistant, ready and willing to serve.”

“Is that a promise?”

There it was again. That flirtatious blink of her eyes and infectious smile that seemed to add ten degrees to an already warm spring afternoon.

“We better get started,” he said. “We’ve got a lot of pictures to take and not a lot of sun left.”

They finished the shoot in just under two hours. Jillian had stashed a portable printer in her camera bag, so they were able to print out twenty or so quality shots, representing every conceivable vantage point. The pictures from the east exterior captured the monolithic temple columns, palatial staircase, and expansive causeway. A few shots were from the temple interior, as well as one of Lincoln himself.

“So, if it’s the Lincoln shot that sets Manny off, does that just tell us he’s states’ rights and not an abolitionist?” Nick asked with a wry grin.

“Either that or he’s scared of statues.”

“That would make him staurophobic,” Nick replied.

“Now, how did I know that you’d provide that information?” Jillian asked, punching him teasingly on the shoulder. “I feel like I’ve been set up.”

It was childish, he knew, but Nick beamed inwardly at having impressed Jillian with his knowledge of phobias, the subject of a psychology term paper in college. What else could he impress her with, he wondered. But as quickly as that thought arrived, it left. This woman just wasn’t the type.

They continued sorting through the photographs, picking the very best shots to print from the hundreds stored in the camera. There was a picture of the Washington Monument across the Reflecting Pool, taken from the very spot where Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., delivered his “I Have a Dream” speech. Another captured the north wall of the Washington Monument through the Lincoln Memorial’s towering side portico. There were a couple shots of the back of the memorial as well, including one from the walkway along Parkway Drive Northwest and another rear shot taken from the bike path across the Potomac, which ran parallel to the George Washington Memorial Parkway.

“Looks like we’re ready to go,” Jillian said, zipping up her tripod bag after they printed the final shot. “Are you sure Manny will be at the club?”

“Manny Ferris seemed as much a fixture in that bathroom as… the fixtures in that bathroom,” Nick said. “He’ll be there. I’m sure of it.”