Alone by Lisa Gardner Page A

still don't have a diagnosis for him. Medically speaking, there's nothing majorly wrong with Nathan Gagnon, except for the fact that he's very, very sick.”
    Bobby was starting to hate this conversation. He twirled his pen between his fingers, then put it down and picked it up again. “You didn't like Jimmy Gagnon,” he said bluntly.
    “Never met the man.”
    “Never?”
    “Never. Nathan's been in my office two or three times a month. For that matter, he's been rushed to the emergency room four times in the past six months. And not once have I ever met Jimmy Gagnon. That tells you something right there.”
    Bobby regarded the doctor's country-club looks. “So when did you start sleeping with Catherine?”
    The man didn't bother to appear shocked. “She deserved better than him,” he answered evenly.
    “A neglected wife?”
    “Worse.” The doctor leaned forward, his face growing intent. “You're not asking the right questions yet. Maybe Nathan had a medical reason to bruise easily, but Catherine didn't.”
    “Jimmy beat her?”
    “I saw the bruises myself.”
    “Black eyes?”
    “Give the guy some credit. He never hit her where just anyone could see. I used to go to school with guys like Jimmy. They figured if they beat their girlfriends in private, it gave them some class.”
    “You could've reported it.”
    “Really? So some cop could look at me the way you're looking at me right now? I didn't even need to be sleeping with her. As long as I simply wanted to be sleeping with her, none of you uniforms would've taken me seriously.”
    “Ever consider dealing with Jimmy yourself?”
    “I thought about it.”
    “And?”
    “I went to the house once. When I knew Catherine and Nathan were away. I knocked on the door, but no one was home.”
    “And you never returned? Man's beating the woman you love, so you show up at an empty house and that's action enough?” Bobby's voice was cold.
    “What would you have me do?” Dr. Rocco said tightly. “Threaten him with a gun?”
    The barb was meant to hurt. Bobby merely shrugged and told the man honestly, “That's what I would've done.”
    Dr. Rocco finally flushed. He leaned away from Bobby, crossing his arms in front of his chest and staring at a spot on his desk. “I told her to leave him,” he said at last.
    “You'd take care of her?” Bobby glanced meaningfully at the doctor's left hand where he was wearing a gold band.
    Again, the good doctor refused to be cowed. “I would've been honored.”
    “But she didn't do it. She stayed.”
    “She said I didn't know what I was saying. She said if she ever left Jimmy, he'd destroy her life and anyone else who tried to help her. She said my career would go down in flames.”
    “Did you believe her?”
    “No. Yes. I don't know. I'd never met Jimmy Gagnon, remember? I'd just heard the stories. But then, six months ago, Jimmy found out about our . . . relationship. I had written some letters. I guess Catherine hadn't the heart to destroy them. Things were rough for her. The notes, I wrote them to give her hope.”
    Bobby waited.
    “Next day, a private investigator was in my office, asking all sorts of questions about Nathan. He had a signed affidavit from Jimmy demanding release of his son's medical records. Within ten minutes, the investigator's strategy was clear. He wanted to know if Nathan's condition could be the result of prolonged starvation or some other form of parental abuse. Basically, he suggested that Nathan's illness had been caused by Catherine—that she was starving her son to death.”
    “Is that possible?”
    “I don't believe so.”
    “You don't believe so?” Bobby arched both brows. “You just told me the kid has some kind of hard-to-diagnose disease. Now you're saying she could've done it?”
    “Look, without having pinpointed a specific cause for Nathan's condition, medically speaking I can't rule anything out. Sure, one or more of his parents could be physically starving him. Or