“At least Tuesday or Wednesday, if not later. We need time to plan our next move after Joe lets us inside.”
“I can do that. And you’ll stay with the steamer again?”
“Yeah. Joe knows one of us will be at the institute today. If I park in the same place, he can give me the key.”
Nodding, Oliver came before him and squeezed his shoulder. “Are you sure you’re up to this? I can tell Ansley to go by himself and make an appointment about his imaginary wife.”
“I’ll be fine.”
Oliver didn’t look convinced, but he kissed Felipe and straightened his hair with a loving hand. “If you’re sure. Stay here and try to unwind. I’m going to find Ansley. I’m sure he wants me to wear his horrid clothes again. Better to catch him before he comes down here in a snit.”
With a final pat of Felipe’s arm, Oliver squared his shoulders and marched out of the lab. As Felipe watched the door close behind him, he tried to ignore the knot in his belly. Oliver was ready to fight with Ansley to protect him.Hewas supposed to be the strong one for Oliver, the one person Oliver could rely on besides Gwen, not the one who broke down over a mistake. Staring into his coffee, Felipe pretended not to see the obvious tremor in his hands. Somehow, he managed to let Oliver down too.
Chapter Thirteen
Sleight of Hand
While Felipe once againwore a chauffeur’s uniform and fell into the bland formality he had donned during their last trip, Oliver spent the entire ride to the Institute for the Betterment of the Soul reminding himself who he was supposed to be. Without Ansley there to cajole him, it was easy to forget he wasn’t Oliver Barlow in uncomfortable clothing. He was supposed to be a doctor, a surgeon, a brother caring for his sister, someone normal, someone successful but looking for a new opportunity. More importantly, he was supposed to be someone who didn’t feel wholly out of place surrounded by the opulence of Dr. Yates’s penthouse office or know about patients being ill-treated and killed. Pretending he didn’t see things in a new light would be the hardest part. As Oliver walked through the foyer, he noticed the way patients either looked invigorated or wrung out, though the latter hid it beneath placidity and tight smiles. There was very little chitchat and none of the comradery one might expect in a hospital. Oliver shoved up his walls to keep from having the quiet get under his skin. Schooling his features, he approached the front desk.
A different woman was there, but when she spotted Oliver, she straightened and gave him a once over with an accessing eye. “How may I help you, sir?”
“My name is Dr. Owens. I visited Dr. Yates earlier in the week. He told me to speak to Mr. Jenkins about setting up an interview.”
“Oh! You’re the physician Dr. Yates spoke to. He mentioned someone might stop by.” Consulting the book at the desk, she frowned. “Mr. Jenkins may be in a meeting, but he should be out very soon. Give me one moment, and I will show you to the elevator.”
As Oliver raised his gaze, he found Joe watching him from the hall with a mop and bucket. Joe held his gaze and ran a hand across his forehead, flashing a palmed key at Oliver. Panic flashed in Oliver’s breast, but he tamped it down. This was not the plan. Joe was supposed to meet Felipe behind the building, not run into Oliver. He resisted the urge to swallow hard as Joe tilted his head at him meaningfully. What would Felipe do?
There were people lined up behind him, so Oliver gave the clerk what he hoped was an affable look. “No need. I can find my own way. I know you’re busy.”
A relieved smile crossed her lips as she thanked him and motioned for the woman behind him to step up. Forcing his steps to a more leisurely pace, Oliver headed for the elevator. The moment he crossed out of sight of the desk, Joe slid close to him and stuffed a wad of paper into his palm so fast Oliver nearly dropped it. Before he could say anything, Joe returned to mopping with his head down. Oliver resisted the urge to take the paper out and read it. It could have been warning him to stay away from Yates’s office, but there was no chance to look as the elevator chimed and a handful of patients ambled out.
As the elevator door closed behind him, Oliver kept his eyes on the grate, his fingers on the paper, and his mind on the tether. It strained with each floor the elevator climbed, but with a slow exhalation, Oliver pictured it twisting and lengthening like wool from a spindle until the tightness in his chest abated.
When the doors opened to Dr. Yates’s office, the anteroom was empty. Oliver stood on the threshold unsure if he should enter until the elevator operator repeated that Jenkins should be back shortly and shut the door on him. Oliver’s pulse rushed loudly in his ears at the thought of waiting. If it took too long, Dr. Yates might show up, and their plan would fall apart; he wasn’t prepared to lie through his teeth. Taking a breath, Oliver felt for Felipe at the end of the tether until the anxiety abated. This wasn’t the worse scenario, he reminded himself. Felipe or Ansley would take that time to snoop, though Oliver wasn’t certain he should. He didn’t know where Jenkins was or if he would hear him return, but he also wasn’t sure where to stand or sit. He didn’t want to startle the man when he came back by sitting too still on the bench against the wall like a patient. What would another doctor do?Stand, take up space. Things Oliver was loath to do.
Waiting in front of Jenkins’ empty desk, Oliver’s eyes ran over the small things marring its tidy surface. The appointment book was out but shut with a pen over it. Oliver wouldn’t risk disturbing it. In a wire basket sat a telegram from S. Albizzi that read,Shipped order of five. Arriving on SS Bartolo.Letter to follow. Pamphlets had been neatly stacked in bins for the classes Dr. Yates had mentioned to Ansley along with ones on bland diets, various therapies, and their other rest homes. One touted how the doctors had harnessed the powers of nature to calm the mind. Oliver had seen what electricity could do in the wrong hands, and he doubted the patients would call it a wonder of nature if they knew they would end up in the institute’s incinerator. Glancing at the grandfather clock, Oliver counted the minutes until Dr. Yates finished his rounds. If Jenkins didn’t show up soon, Oliver would need to leave without making an appointment.
