Casey murmured, giving a low whistle as she and Madeline retraced their steps. “That woman despises you. She bears looking into, as do her kids. Any other enemies you failed to mention?”
For the umpteenth time, Madeline searched the sea of faces.
“No one I can pick out,” she said truthfully. “If someone out there hates me, I don’t know about it.”
“Then that’s up to us to find out. In the meantime, let’s go meet Gilding, Wilton and Moss.”
* * *
Jacob Casper had separated himself from the crowd to scrutinize the scene between Nancy Lexington and Madeline Westfield. Now he scowled. This wasn’t a good sign.
He made his way over to Dr. Harold Majors, who was head of Manhattan Memorial’s psychiatric department.
“I was hoping this ceremony would appease her,” Jacob murmured, “but that doesn’t seem to be happening. I need to know how bad she is and how far she’d go to hurt the hospital.”
“As I’ve said, she’s not my patient, Jacob. All I can give you is an informal evaluation,” Majors replied.
“That’s all I need. Go over and chat with her. Figure out if she’s just stuck in the anger phase of mourning, or if she’s going off the deep end and becoming a major threat.”
Majors nodded. Waiting for the right time, he walked over to offer his condolences to Nancy Lexington.
* * *
Dr. Sharon Gilding was a piece of work, Casey noted. Attractive, blonde and as cold as her icy-blue eyes, she was in her mid-forties and reputed to be the best neurosurgeon in the hospital—and next in line for Conrad’s position if he weren’t able to fill it. She was also, like Conrad, a close friend of Ronald Lexington’s—although what he saw in her, Casey couldn’t fathom. No, that wasn’t true. If Ronald liked women as much as Casey had been hearing, then she could see him going after Sharon Gilding. Her looks were striking, and her figure was great. But her arrogance? Her haughtiness? Maybe Ronald liked a challenge.
Sharon Gilding’s arctic stare moved from Madeline to Casey as Madeline introduced them. Her eyes shot daggers at Madeline, but she inquired politely about her health, and then turned and shook Casey’s hand.
“I’ve seen news flashes about Forensic Instincts on TV,” she said. “Congratulations on your well-earned success.”
“Thank you.” Casey could feel Sharon’s dislike for Madeline even when she wasn’t addressing her. “From what I understand, neurosurgery is one of the most complex areas of medicine. You must be very talented.”
“My career is my life. And yes, I’m exceptional at what I do. The human brain is the most fascinating organ in the body. It controls every nerve and motor function.” A tight smile. “I could go on, but the complexity of it would probably bore you.”
Wow, did this woman come on strong. Then why did Casey sense that she was protecting herself in some way?
“I hear you’re second in line for chief of surgery.” Casey went for blunt and fast, wanting to see Sharon Gilding’s undisguised reaction. “What happens if Conrad Westfield comes back and accepts the job?”
Surprise mingled with something else shot across the neurosurgeon’s face. “Then I continue doing what I’m doing,” she responded, schooling her features. “Conrad is a genius in his field. He deserves the position as much as I do.”
“That’s very magnanimous of you.” Casey softened her words with a smile. “Clearly you respect talent in all areas of the medical field.”
“I do.”
“Were you and Ronald Lexington friends?”
Sharon’s shoulders lifted. “We were good colleagues. Ronald discussed administrative issues with me, and I kept him up to date on surgical issues. He was fascinated by every aspect of this hospital, medical or otherwise. I admired his commitment. So yes, we spent time together—as much time as I could spare.” She glanced at her watch. “Speaking of which, I really have to be going. I have to be in surgery in an hour.”
“Of course.” Casey nodded. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise.” She was already walking away.
“That was interesting,” Casey murmured.
“Yes, Sharon is never one for diplomacy,” Madeline replied.
“She dislikes you.”
“She dislikes everyone.”
Casey stifled a grin. “Who’s next on the list?”
“Doug Wilton. He’s in cardio with Conrad, although he’s a cardiologist, not a surgeon. He was one of Conrad’s and Ronald’s golfing buddies. He’s pretty plugged into what goes on at the hospital, but he’s also a good guy.”
“I could use a good guy after Dr. Gilding.”
As it turned out, Madeline was right. Doug Wilton was a good guy. He chatted with them about both Ronald and Conrad, and told funny stories about their golfing excursions.
“Ron and I didn’t spend much time together at the hospital. But we had a hell of a good time outside these walls. He had a big heart. I miss him. As for Conrad...” He paused, visibly upset. “I consulted with him on almost every one of my cases. He was an invaluable asset, to me and to the hospital. I can’t tell you how much I hope he’ll be back. Losing Ron was personally painful for me. Losing Conrad would be devastating.”
“I hope it won’t come to that,” Madeline said.
“So do I,” Doug responded. He didn’t look surprised by Madeline’s compassion for her ex. Casey wondered how much he and Conrad had discussed Madeline—and if Doug had any reason to dislike her.
Casey tucked that thought into the bears-further-investigation category.
Once that conversation was over, Madeline led Casey over to Janet Moss, who was the assistant to the hospital administrator, and probably a walking wealth of information.
“Janet has been here for years,” Madeline confirmed in a whisper as they neared her. “She worked closely with Ronald, and she works closely with Jacob. She knows everything that goes on in the administrative offices.”
“A good person to talk to.” Casey gave Janet Moss a quick once-over. About average height. Slender. Chestnut-brown hair worn in a simple chignon—one that might look too dressy for work on most women, but one that Janet pulled off with utter grace. High-styled eyeglasses that said designer. Not a lot of makeup, but well-applied and far from cheap. A put-together, professional woman who’d clearly worked her way up to making a decent salary, consistent with Madeline’s description.
“Madeline, hi.” Janet caught a glimpse of her out of her peripheral vision and turned away from the group of people she’d been talking to so that she could speak to her. “How are you feeling?”
Her tone and expression were concerned.
