Ogilvey frowned, bewildered. “Then what do you want from me?”
“We’d like to talk to the members of your staff who had contact with Vella during the twenty-four hours before her death,” Zack said.
There was an edge to his voice. Raine knew that it wasn’t just because he was now in full investigator mode. Like her, he was dealing with the swirling chaos of psychic energy that permeated the lobby and the office. Like any hospital, St. Damian’s had absorbed the psychical essence of desperation, fear, anxiety, rage, pain and just plain craziness given off by patients and their families over the years. The energy had literally soaked into the very walls.
Ogilvey stiffened in reaction to Zack’s tone. “Surely you don’t expect me to subject the members of my staff to questioning by a private investigator? If you suspect criminal negligence, there are procedures that must be followed.”
“No,” Raine said, interrupting before Zack could alarm Ogilvey any further. “That’s not what this is about. We understand that you have an obligation to protect your staff. But, as you probably realize, I have been dealing with my aunt’s estate for the past month and certain questions have arisen.”
Ogilvey was watching her with grave caution now. She knew he was giving serious consideration to calling his lawyer. At this rate she and Zack would soon be asked to leave.
“You should be able to answer the single most important question we have,” Zack said. “Did Vella Tallentyre have any visitors on the day of her death?”
Ogilvey hesitated, dubious but uncertain.
Raine leaned forward earnestly. “Please, Dr. Ogilvey. It’s very important. I know you keep careful records. As far as I am aware, in the year that my aunt was here at St. Damian’s the only people who came to see her aside from me were Gordon Salazar and Andrew Kitredge. We always had to sign in and show identification.”
“The family has a right to know if the patient received any other visitors,” Zack said with an air of quiet authority.
Ogilvey’s jaw flexed but he nodded once, brusquely. “Yes, I can give you that information.” He punched the intercom on his desk. “Mrs. Thomas, would you please bring in the log of all visitors who came to see Vella Tallentyre on the twentieth of last month?”
“Right away, Dr. Ogilvey.”
A short time later the assistant walked into the office, a computer printout in one hand.
“Is this what you want, sir?” She handed him the sheet of paper.
He glanced at it quickly, gray brows bunching a little. “Yes, thank you.”
The assistant left, closing the door behind her. Raine realized that Ogilvey was staring intently at the printout.
“I was out of town on the twentieth,” Raine said. “But I know that Gordon stopped by for a few minutes around lunchtime. Is there anyone else on that list?”
“Yes,” Ogilvey said, not bothering to conceal his surprise, “there is.”
Zack did not move but Raine felt the sudden, heavy pulse of his psychic aura. He probably felt something from her, too, she thought, because she was clenching the arms of the chair with enough force to leave small gouges in the wood.
“Who was the visitor?” she made herself ask in as calm a tone as she could manage.
“Nicholas J. Parker. He put down his relationship to the patient as friend.”
Raine’s stomach did an unpleasant little flip. “As far as I know, my aunt was not acquainted with anyone named Parker.”
Ogilvey’s brows rose. “Are you certain that you knew all of your aunt’s acquaintances?”
Her first impulse was to say yes. Then she remembered that, until recently, she hadn’t even known that Vella had been engaged in a torrid affair with Wilder Jones all those years ago.
“No,” she admitted. “But I can ask Gordon and Andrew. They might recall if there was someone from her past named Parker.”
“When did this Nicholas J. Parker arrive and leave?” Zack asked.
Ogilvey checked the printout. “He signed in at three-thirty in the afternoon and left forty minutes later.”
“Did he visit my aunt in her room or in one of the lounges?” Raine asked tensely.
“I can’t tell you that by looking at the log.” Ogilvey put down the sheet of paper with a decisive air. “But one of the staff will probably remember, since any visitors other than you and Mr. Salazar and Mr. Kitredge would have constituted an unusual occurrence.”
“I’d appreciate it if you would ask whoever you talk to for a description of Parker,” Zack said.
Ogilvey nodded, punched in a number on the phone and spoke to someone in a businesslike manner.
Raine waited, intensely aware of the kick of her pulse.
After a short, one-sided conversation, Ogilvey replaced the phone. He did not look pleased.
“Nicholas J. Parker met with Vella Tallentyre in her room,” he said.
“Number three-fifteen.” Raine flexed her hands on the chair arms. “It was a private room. She never left it willingly. She had to be coaxed out. She said she felt safe there.”
“Yes,” Ogilvey said. “In any event, the two of them were alone together for the most part during those forty minutes. However, because Parker was unfamiliar to the staff, one of the orderlies made an excuse to go into the room a couple of times just to make certain that Vella was not agitated or disturbed.”
“She must have known Parker,” Raine said, bewildered by the widening mystery. “Otherwise, I doubt she would have allowed him to stay so long. She didn’t do well with strangers.”
“No,” Ogilvey said. “She did not know him. When the orderly escorted Parker into the room and told Vella that she had a visitor, she started to object. However, Parker then informed her that he had been a colleague of her brother’s at some research lab. That’s why Vella allowed him to stay.”
Raine felt something squeeze tightly in her chest. “Parker knew my father?”
Zack looked at her, his expression stone cold. “That’s what he told your aunt. He might have lied in order to gain access to her.”
She shook her head, dazed by the revelations. “Either way, the question remains. Why did he show up out of the blue after all these years?”
“I regret I can’t answer that,” Ogilvey said, deeply concerned now. He turned to Zack. “I got only a very limited description, I’m afraid. The orderly described Parker as being of medium height, mid-forties, bald and twitchy.”