Chapter Two

      Two years later…

      Through the tinted window of the high-rise office building, Dr. Hugh Menton stared down over the sundrenched vista of West Los Angeles. Below, expensive cars navigated the street between sleek modern structures.

      He ought to be thrilled that he and his brother could afford a suite in such a prestigious area. Once, being pediatrician to the children of celebrities and business tycoons had been everything he’d hoped for.

      Yet, even though he’d outwardly recovered from the still mysterious loss of a year and a half of his life, and even though he’d regained his medical skills, Hugh didn’t feel right working here, catering to the rich.

      His mouth twisting with disappointment, he turned and tossed the morning mail onto his gleaming oak desk. There was no response yet to his application to take part in a research project working with poor children. He’d hoped to hear from Pacific West Coast University Medical Center by now, since the Whole Child Project started next month, in October.

      “You know, the reason you didn’t get your letter is that I’ve been stealing your mail and burning it,” said a tenor voice from the hallway.

      Hugh looked up with a grin. “Sure you have.”

      “You’ll get tired of playing Dr. Schweitzer,” warned his brother. Despite the teasing tone, there was a glint of worry in his green eyes, so much like Hugh’s.

      Although at thirty-seven Andrew was only two years Hugh’s elder, he played the role of senior partner to the hilt. That might be partly because, with his shorter, stockier build and brown hair, he more closely resembled their late father, Frederick Menton, a legendary physician.

      And, Hugh reminded himself, Andrew had had to assume the entire responsibility for their joint practice during his own disappearance. “I hope you know that I’d stay here with you if I could. But ever since I got back, I’ve been restless.”

      “I’ve noticed.” His brother fiddled with the stethoscope around his neck. “Regardless of how well your injuries have healed, you shouldn’t trust these impulses, bro. This isn’t like you. You used to enjoy the good life.”

      Maybe he was right. Hugh couldn’t account, rationally, for the sense of incompleteness that had dogged him since his return.

      As far as anyone could tell, he must have spent that year and a half as a drifter. He’d disappeared at sea off Oceanside and been found unconscious nearly eighteen months later in Los Angeles, with a fresh head wound and no identification. In between, there wasn’t a clue where he’d been.

      The only thing Hugh knew for certain was that the experience had changed him. Once ambitious for prestige and material success, he now longed to do something meaningful with his life. And for an emotional release that he couldn’t name.

      If only he knew what had happened during that lost time!

      “As for my leaving, it may be a moot point,” he told his brother. “I haven’t heard from the project, so it doesn’t look like I’m going anywhere.”

      “Good.” Andrew checked his watch. “No wonder Helen isn’t bugging us. It’s time for lunch.”

      Helen Nguyen was their nurse and, with patients prepped in the examining rooms, would never have allowed them to chat for so long. However, no appointments were scheduled between noon and 1:00 p.m.

      “Where shall we go?” Hugh asked. Every Wednesday, the two of them lunched at one of the many restaurants in the area.

      Once or twice, he’d had in inexplicable urge to point out to a waiter when he noticed an uncleared table or a messy front counter. It made him wonder whether he might have worked in a restaurant while he was gone, but that didn’t give him much to go on.

      Chelsea Byers, their receptionist, appeared behind Andrew, pushing back a strand of her newly dyed maroon hair. “Excuse me.” They both turned toward her. “There’s a woman here without an appointment.”

      “Tell her to make one for later,” Andrew said.

      “We’re full all afternoon, and she says she’s driven a long ways.” Chelsea bounced a little, as if she were dancing at one of the trendy nightclubs she often mentioned. “Her little girl has an ear infection.”

      “If she comes back after lunch, I’ll work her in,” Hugh said. “Have we seen her before?”

      The receptionist shook her head, raising an odd-colored cloud. “She doesn’t have insurance, either.”

      “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Andrew snapped. “This isn’t the welfare office. Where’s Sandy?” Sandy Craven, their office manager, was in charge of making sure bills got paid.

      “Sandy already went to lunch. The woman said she can pay cash,” Chelsea answered. “I’m sorry. I’ll tell her she has to arrange payment with Sandy and then make an appointment.”

      Annoyance at his brother’s high-handed attitude spurred Hugh to intervene. “Never mind. I’ll see her now.”

      It was highly irregular and an imposition on Helen, who would need to weigh the little girl and take a brief medical history. Ear infections hurt, though, and he didn’t want the child to suffer.

      “Don’t wait. Go ahead without me,” he told Andrew.

      “I’m not hungry.” Although clearly disgruntled, his brother accepted defeat without further argument.

      It occurred to Hugh that, if he did get the research position, Andrew could find a partner who more closely shared his values, someone like Hugh used to be. Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

      A few minutes later, Helen handed him a chart. “Don’t wait,” Hugh said. “I’m sorry I used up part of your lunch.”

      “You might need me,” the nurse warned.

      “Thanks, but I’ll handle whatever comes up.” He wasn’t too snooty to administer a shot if necessary.

      After Helen left, Hugh glanced at the chart. The child’s name was Dana Avery, age two years. No surgeries or major medical problems. Mother’s name Meg, father’s name Joe.

      Joe Avery. It had a familiar ring, but he couldn’t