Mother's Milk Read Online Free Page B

is?’
    He chuckled. ‘You can be stupid or you can be lazy, but you can’t be both.’
    â€˜Thanks,’ she said. ‘And by the by, he’s one of the three filing a grievance against me. I couldn’t justify giving him all fives, which apparently is what he’s always received. It’s also very clear he wants my job, and there’ve been a few occasions – nothing I can prove definitively – where he’s gone around my directives on cases.’
    â€˜Well, according to Janice he’s “solid and dependable.” More importantly, he’s not the type who’ll go running into abandoned crack houses.’
    â€˜It wasn’t abandoned. And yes, I do have the sense that Janice is waiting for me to fuck up.’
    â€˜Sounds like she’s not the only one. So be careful, Barrett. I’ll call you later, and I still think you should see somebody.’
    â€˜Yeah, but you know what they say about doctors …’
    â€˜Uh-huh, we make the worst patients.’
    She hung up, and looked down at her half-eaten chicken and still-wrapped sandwich. She was about to taken another bite when the intercom buzzed.
    â€˜Dr. Conyors,’ Marla said, ‘Commissioners Fleet and Martinez have arrived.’
    â€˜Thanks, Marla,’ and felt like adding –
and stop calling me doctor; use my first name
– ‘send them in.’ She stood as Marla, rail-thin, wearing a blue dress with her face shadowed by her long dark bangs, ushered in the two officials. Janice Fleet, Barrett’s boss, an aging blond in a form-fitting burnt-red wool suit, the top two buttons of a cream silk blouse open revealing freckled skin and cleavage of surgically enhanced breasts, greeted her coolly.
    Barrett watched as Janice looked over her new furniture, an early sore point. Janice had complained fiercely about the budget overrun. Barrett also feared what Janice might make of today’s escapade, which if Lydia were to file a grievance could turn into a union nightmare.
    Behind Janice came Carlos Martinez, a grandfatherly and slightly rotund PhD in a bulging navy suit, the current Commissioner of Family and Youth Services, an agency now under intense scrutiny for several recent deaths in the foster-care system.
    Barrett motioned for the two to take seats around the teak conference table, when Marla buzzed in. ‘Dr. Conyors, Dr. Osborn is here.’
    Barrett was in no mood to see Hugh, who’d probably come to complain again about his evaluation. ‘Tell him I’m busy and have him make an appointment.’
    â€˜Dr. Conyors,’ Janice interjected, while examining her French-tipped pink-and-white nails, ‘I asked Hugh to join us, I was certain you wouldn’t mind. I thought with all his experience at the DFYS, he’d be invaluable for this.’
    Barrett’s anger surged; clearly Hugh and Janice had been having conversations behind her back. ‘Marla,’ she said into the intercom, ‘send Dr. Osborn in.’ She fumed as Hugh entered, a broad smile on his politician’s face, his short dark hair perfectly coiffed, his navy suit, white shirt, and burgundy tie like a Brooks Brothers ad.‘Commissioner Fleet,’ he said, ‘you look absolutely stunning,’ and he planted a kiss on Janice’s cheek.
    She smiled. ‘Such flattery.’
    â€˜Nothing but the truth,’ he said, his grin broadening. He turned from her, his short compact frame reminding Barrett of a wind-up toy, and focused on Commissioner Martinez, ‘Commissioner.’ The two men shook hands. Finally, as though observing some unspoken protocol, he turned to Barrett, and nodded his head, ‘Dr. Conyors.’
    â€˜Dr. Osborn,’ Barrett responded, having given up first-name basis with him in the wake of his grievance.
    They all sat with Barrett at one end of the table and Janice at the other. ‘Dr. Conyors,’ Carlos Martinez