"Well, there's still an impressive collection of diagnostic possibilities," Gabe said when he was done. "Some sort of atypical seizure or even unusual migraine is on the list along with a small hemorrhage in some strategic area of his brain, or a tumor—possibly one in a part of his body away from the brain that is secreting some sort of hormone or other psychoactive chemical. There are a number of possible organs in this regard. He certainly seems toxic, but unless he has some pills hidden away that we don't know about, I don't have an explanation for how that toxicity could have happened. Then there's the diagnosis that is at or near to top of the list at this point."

"Namely?" Lattimore asked.

"Namely, that the stress of the job and the reelection campaign has pushed his emotional and mental faculties past the breaking point."

"You have no idea the hours he puts in," Carol said.

"Well, it's not a physician's job to guess. So, at the moment, the field of possibilities is wide open, and we've got to get him to the hospital for an MRI and some other tests. At this moment I am quite concerned about a tumor or a small hemorrhage."

"It's not a tumor," Lattimore said. "And it's not a hemorrhage."

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Because," the chief of staff said, meeting Gabe's gaze intently, "the president's already been recently checked for those by Dr. Ferendelli. He's run every test in the book."

"I don't understand."

"Gabe," Carol said evenly, still massaging her husband's hand, "this isn't the first episode like this that Drew has had. . . . It's at least the fourth."

CHAPTER 9

Incredulous, Gabe stared across the bed at Carol Stoddard and Magnus Lattimore.

"I can't believe this," he said, barely maintaining control. "How many episodes?"

"Four," Carol said. "All within the last three months. Jim Ferendelli was actually with us when the first attack occurred. It was right here in the residence. He was up here for dinner. All of a sudden Drew began shaking his head as if he were trying to clear something out of it. It turns out he was hearing voices."

"I just can't believe this," Gabe said again, making no attempt to lower his voice. "How in the hell could Drew come all the way out to Wyoming to ask me to take over as his doctor and manage not to tell me about this? And you two. Carol, we've known each other for years. Magnus, you had plenty of chances to talk to me before I flew out here. Who in the hell do you think this man is—an organ-grinder? How can you ask me to uproot my life and come here to take care of him and then withhold information like this?"