Now he had that deer-caught-in-headlights expression, and it was all Catherine could do not to laugh.
“Y-you want a date?”
She flashed a huge grin at him, purposefully mistaking his question. “I’d love a date, thank you. I accept your invitation, Dr. Jacobs.”
Later that same day, Riley sat at his desk and listened as Carrie Martin explained her story.
“I had no idea who that Dr. Richie person was up there in front of that crowd.”
The woman’s eyes had taken on a haunted look, and sympathy rose up in Riley. Obviously, Carrie was reliving that awful confrontation she’d initiated during Dr. Richie’s last seminar before he’d disappeared. Up until now, he’d only heard rumor and innuendo, and he’d squelched that as quickly as he could, thinking that was best for the clinic and its reputation. But this woman had been deeply affected by the ugly incident that she, herself, had admittedly been the center of.
“I mean, he resembled the man I’d married years ago in Florida,” she continued, “but that Dr. Richie person strutting back and forth and tossing out all that overly dramatized gibberish was just too…” Her sentence trailed off and she shook her head.
Riley had never personally met Richard Strong, but having inherited the job of cleaning up the man’s mess here at the clinic—and the potential problems that could ensue—Riley had certainly learned a great deal of secondhand information about the man. Some people loved him, saw him as charismatic. He apparently had a way of garnering people’s trust. And Riley had heard it said that the man could sell ice cubes in Antarctica. And the suits in Administration had loved that “salesman” aspect of Dr. Richie’s personality. Plus, when he’d accepted the job of running the clinic, the famous guru of the Northwest had brought quite a fan following along with him.
But there were plenty of people who had their doubts about the man and his tactics.
“I just can’t believe what he’s done,” Carrie continued, amazement filling her tone to the brim. “What kind of person is he that he felt he needed to change his name?”
Riley perked up. “He changed his name?”
“Yes,” Carrie said. “He was born Strokudnowski. Richard Strokudnowski.”
A difficult name to spell, Riley decided as he attempted to jot it down.
“Well, there’s really nothing wrong with a name change,” he told her. “Lots of people do it.” Riley hoped he didn’t offend her. He only meant to offer another view. “Especially prominent people. Stars and the like. They want to be called something that makes an impact, something that’s easy to remember. Strong is much easier to remember than Strow…Strew…” His eyes grew wide when he realized that Richard Strong’s given name had slipped right out of his brain.
“Strokudnowski.” Her mouth quirked. “I see what you mean.”
“And surely you know,” he went on, “that Dr. Richie has been making a name for himself in the fitness world for some time now.”
“I’ve recently discovered his fame.” She winced as she asked, “But Dr. Richie? It sounds so lame.”
Riley shrugged. He thought the name sounded pretty silly, too, and wanted to shake his head every time he was forced to say it, but who knew how the Dr. Richie phenomenon got started?
“Sometimes a person grows larger than life,” he suggested, “and the fans are the ones who do the choosing.”
Her expression told him she hadn’t thought of that possibility before this moment.
“Dr. Jacobs, I need to find him.” She scooted to the edge of the seat. “I feel so bad about what I did, about what I said in that seminar. I need him to know that. Can you tell me where he’s gone? Did he move out of the state? Did he take a job at another clinic?”
“I’m sorry.” He shook his head, truly empathizing with the woman. “I don’t know where he is. Actually, we’re looking for him, too.”
Her eyes grow round. “Is he in trouble? Did I—”
“He’s not in trouble,” he assured her. “We’ve decided to do some testing on his weight-loss treatment.”
“NoWait.”
Riley nodded.
“I was asked to go give back my bottle,” she said.
Again, he nodded. “We’re hoping to collect as much of it as we can.”
“I’m relieved.”
Her response startled him into silence. Most of the clinic’s clients were upset about having to surrender their NoWait.
“Dr. Jacobs,” she said in a lower tone, “I’ve been visiting the clinic for weeks now. Since that oil was introduced, people around here have been acting like a bunch of horny toads ready to dry-hump anything that stands still long enough.” Her jaw dropped open and the color drained from her face. “I can’t believe I said that to a perfect stranger. I tend to let down my guard with people way too quick. Please forgive me.”
Riley cleared his throat, quashing his urge to chuckle, and attempted to remain unruffled. “It’s quite all right. This is an, uh, unusual situation we find ourselves in. We’re all a little off-kilter.” He rushed to get the conversation back to the testing. “There’s quite a bit of money being made today in specialty medicines meant to treat sexual disorders. If—and that’s a big if—Richard Strong has come up with a topical treatment made of natural ingredients, the results could be far reaching. But testing needs to be done. We’re going to get it started, but we’d like Dr. Richie to head up the effort.”
Once she’d regained her composure, Carrie said, “I feel I really need to be frank here. The man I married wasn’t—” She stopped, uncertainty shadowing her face. Then she tried again. “Although the Richard I attended college with was very caring and wanted very much to help people, there was no way I’d allow him to prepare any kind of remedy for me. He wasn’t a detail-oriented person, if you know what I mean, and formulating substances wasn’t one of his strongest talents.”
Ah, Riley thought, so the man’s less-than-scholarly reputation wasn’t just a myth.
“Don’t worry,” Riley assured her. “He’d have chemists and lab assistances at his disposal. However, judging from the amorous behavior we’ve witnessed, it seems he’s on to something significant.”
Carrie took a deep breath. “So you’re trying to find him?”
“Very discreetly. We know he’s still in town. He’s been seen. But he’s not answering his phone or returning calls. The staff here has to be very careful. It’s not like he’s missing, or in danger. He has a right not to be found if that’s what he wants.”
The woman nodded. “But I can look for him, right? I won’t be breaking any laws if I look for him myself?”
“I don’t believe so.” He flattened his palms out on the desktop. “If you do find him, please have him come to see us. Or tell him at least to call.”
Regret rounded her shoulders, and she clutched the handbag on her lap. “The way he left the conference room that day,” she said, “I’m sure he’s feeling very embarrassed.”
Riley agreed but he didn’t allow himself to nod. He didn’t want to make her feel any worse than she already did.
“Dr. Jacobs, was there ever a time when you wished you could relive a day in your life? Just one day? Just one hour? Heck, I’d take reliving just one minute. Wouldn’t it be nice if we could reach out and snatch back the words we say that hurt someone else?”
“Everyone has had that wish at one time or another.”
But