The next morning Granddad dropped me off at the office, promising he’d come back for me at the end of the workday.
While I ate my sausage biscuit, I glanced over the daily schedule. Anna Blake’s name was prominent on the list. 10:00 with Marcy Palmer. Since Marcy’s 9:00 tended to run past the scheduled time, I should have another opportunity to chat with the patient again. Before I could forget all the questions that whirled through my mind, I whipped out a fresh sheet of paper.
“Miss Reynolds, haven’t we discussed food in the office before?” Dressed in a three-piece black suit, with a crisp white shirt and red tie, his dark hair freshly cut, Dr. Daley glared at me.
“I’m not even supposed to be here, yet. I left home so early I didn’t have time to eat.” I held out his phone messages and noticed the grease from my fingers had transferred to some of the sheets of paper. He eyed them with a less than happy expression.
“Let me say it again since it isn’t sinking in. Food is not appropriate for the office. If you must eat, go into the conference room.” He pointed to the interior room and quickly added, “Make sure you clean up any mess you might make in there.” And I thought Granddad was anal-retentive. Dr. Dick was making a federal case out of a little grease.
I picked up the wrapper and my plastic cup of OJ and headed off to the conference room. Almost there, I turned around and watched Dr. Dick unlock the door to his private office.
Could he have murdered his patient?
True, he was gruff and angry with me. But to be honest, I’d never seen him harsh with a client. In fact, they adored him. Even though he was on my list of suspects, I found it hard to believe the psychiatrist had killed anybody. The only person he ever gave murderous looks to was me. And on most days, I probably deserved them – at least from his perspective.
As soon as we were officially open for business, the phone began ringing. And it rang off the hook all morning long. Some were patients calling for appointments and others were cancellations. I wished people would make up their minds. But I guess part of the reason some people were in therapy in the first place was their inability to make good choices. Or to even make a decision, right or wrong. I tried to use that as leverage on several of the patients who called to cancel, without much success. Thank goodness there’d been no call from Anna Blake.
I peered at the clock above the door. Ten to ten.
Come on Anna. Be early for your session. That would give me more time to interrogate her. I mean, chat with her. At the sound of footsteps in the hall, I studied the doorway expecting Anna to be there, instead, it was Ryder looking more than a little bit dangerous with a five o’clock shadow. Odd, considering it was early in the day. He wore dark jeans and another tight black t-shirt. His eyes appeared bloodshot. Someone had pulled an all-nighter, and it was a no-brainer who he’d spent it with. Mrs. Sunglasses with the here-one-minute-gone-the-next wedding rings.
Probably in the no-tell motel out on Route 1 where they rented rooms by the hour. Nah, on second thought that wasn’t his style. Nor was it Mrs. Sunglasses. And there was the crux of my problem.
I wanted to be Mrs. Sunglasses, minus the Mrs., I realized in a fit of painful honesty. I wanted to be the sort of woman who attracted someone like Ryder. But I wasn’t and didn’t have a hope in hell of ever competing with someone like that. I was a greasy biscuit-eating klutz with far too much curiosity. I’d never be the sophisticated type.
“Morning, Becca.” Ryder leaned against the doorjamb, watching me with nerve-racking intensity. Please, please, please, don’t let him have read my thoughts.
“I’m busy.” There. I might not be sophisticated, but I could act cool, calm, and professional. I sat up straighter at my desk and shuffled a few papers around, somehow smudged with some sausage biscuit grease my breakfast had left behind.
Ryder surveyed the waiting room, the very empty waiting room. “I see that.”
“Very funny. Just because we don’t currently have any patients doesn’t mean I’m not busy.” I tried to appear as unapproachable as he’d been last night, but it didn’t seem to work on Ryder because he advanced toward me.
What was I so antsy about? He was out of my reach, remember?
He leaned forward and put both hands flat on my desk and made eye contact. “I want to talk about last night. I know what you were up to.”
Did he mean Max? He had some nerve. At least Max wasn’t married. I frowned. Was he? Damn. I’d never thought to ask. “Yes, and I have a pretty good idea what you were up to, too,” I retorted.
“Now we’re even. If you don’t mind, I’ve got things to do before the next patient arrives.”
“You’re playing with fire, and you will get burned.”
He had to be joking. Righteous indignation flowed through me.
“Excuse me, what I do with Max is my own business. Besides, I’m not the one dating a married woman.” Oops. Maybe I shouldn’t have tacked on that part. After all, it was none of my business who he dated. I stood, clenching a stack of claim copies in my fist.
“What?” He straightened up. I think it was the first time I’d ever seen him look confused.
It was kind of adorable. Then I remembered the Mrs.
“You heard me. Floppy hat, big sunglasses, non-descript clothes. Married. At least, she wore rings the first time I saw her.”
I took no pleasure in busting his affair. Ryder remained silent and I could see him thinking, sorting through what I’d said.
It took most people a while to do that.
To give the devil his due, Ryder handled the sorting process a lot faster. Pivoting on my heel, I strode to the file cabinet and opened and closed drawers as I filed the first few wrinkled forms in the patient billing charts.
My hands trembled slightly and the rest of the forms fell to the carpet. I bent down to retrieve them the same instant Ryder did.
“First, I’m not having an affair with anyone.” His voice came, low and dark, close to my ear. My gut clenched and it wasn’t from my greasy breakfast. “I don’t have the time. And second of all, it’s not my style. The woman you saw was a special client of mine. One that required the utmost discretion.”
Could I have misjudged Ryder so completely? Or was I falling for a line? I examined those damnable blue eyes of his. I was such a sucker for pretty eyes, and Ryder had a set that could draw me deep into them.
Now it was my turn to think while we gathered up the scattered claim forms. “Okay, so say I believe you. That she is just a client.” He raised an eyebrow at me as if to ask who was I to question him, but I plowed on. “Why did she need the disguise?”
“I can’t discuss my clients. You either believe me or you don’t. It’s that simple.”
I saw something flash in his eyes before he made his face go impassive. It was innocence, or so I wanted to believe. It also seemed important that I believe him, and my resistance crumbled.
“Okay, fine.” I jammed the last of the claim forms in their respective folders and stood. “Now what?”
Ryder shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. “Wait a minute. I came in here to make sure you’d given up investigating the O’Malley murder. But you must have misunderstood what I meant, because you said, ‘what I do with Max is my own business.’” His eyes narrowed. “Tell me you weren’t with Chernov last night.”
“Okay, I wasn’t with Chernov.”
I don’t think he believed me.
Maybe it had something to do with my face turning brick red at the lie. Why, oh why couldn’t I be a better liar? “Okay, fine. I was with him. When no one else was available to help me, he came.”
That caught him by surprise.
“Help you? What are you talking about?”
“My car wouldn’t start last night. That’s why I ran into you and your client coming out of the building. I was on my way back inside to call my grandfather. You were way too busy with your own agenda to even notice I was upset or having a problem. But Granddad wasn’t home, so I called Max. He came to my rescue. And saw me home safely.” I folded my arms across my chest with a there, take that attitude.
To my surprise, Ryder didn’t offer a rebuttal. Instead, he wrapped his arms around me, more a friendship kind of thing than a romantic hug.
“Sorry, Becca. My mind was completely on what I was doing. If I’d realized you had a problem, I never would have left you stranded here. Why didn’t you speak up?” He held me gently against him, and I breathed in deep, absorbing the scent that was uniquely his, a clean soap and water smell with a trace of a light woodsy cologne.
I wanted to believe him, I really did.
“Well, isn’t this cozy?”
At the snarly tone, I jumped like someone had shot me and spun to face the doorway. “Anna? I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you come in.” I pushed free of Ryder’s embrace. “How are you?”
“Not good. Is Marcy here yet?” The agitation in Anna’s voice was clear.
“Sure is. She’s with her 9:00. Why don’t you have a seat until she’s ready to see you? May I get you something to drink?” I fussed over her and mouthed to Ryder the word “later.” He nodded and left the suite without another word.
I went to the cooler and poured Anna a large cup of water. I held it out to her, but she chose that moment to jump up from the couch and struck my arm with her sudden movement. Water spilled all over the carpet and my sleeve. She never even noticed. Her pacing struck me as almost manic.
I set the half-empty cup down on an end table and followed her across the room. “Is there something I can do for you?” I asked in concern.
She stopped her pacing and began to laugh hysterically. “Do? Yes, you can bring Robert back.”
I stepped back from her.
Her eyes held a trace of madness that I hadn’t noticed before. I wondered if seeing Ryder and me hugging, even though it was certainly not romantic, had pushed Anna Blake over the edge. “I wish I could help you.”
Her laugh deepened, and she reached into her purse and pulled out a cigarette and lighter.
Crap. “I’m sorry, there’s a no smoking policy in the office,” I offered tentatively.
She threw the items back into her purse. “Of course there is. A person dealing with crises certainly wouldn’t need a smoke, now would they? No, their nerves would be made of steel. What an idiotic rule. Better tell that one to Marcy and the members of her addiction group. I’m surprised you haven’t smelled the smoke the next day after the meetings. Or on Marcy, for that matter.” She shot me an impatient glare. “Oh, don’t look so surprised. Your boss smokes with the best of them. And I’m not just talking about cigarettes. Why do you think she’s running the addiction group? It takes one to know one. Do you think my Robert had problems with the ponies? You should see where your boss spends some of her weekends.”
I’ll admit, she gave me pause.
All of the questions I’d planned to ask her flew out of my head. With her moving around so fast, it was like watching one of those ducks in a shooting gallery. Plus, she paced between my desk and me. And my desk was where I’d left the paper with my notes.
“I need that smoke. Maybe I’ll just go outside until Marcy shows up.”
“No!” I couldn’t let her do that. How would I justify following her and hanging around? I had to keep her here. “I’m sure in light of the circumstances we could break the rules just this once. Especially since there are no other clients around.”
She didn’t wait for me to offer a second time. She grabbed the cigarette and lighter out of her purse and lit up. Inhaling deeply and holding the smoke in her lungs for what seemed to me way too long, she finally exhaled and relaxed somewhat.
“Ahhh, that’s better. Thank you, Becca, for understanding. I’ll square this with Miss Priss.” I could only guess she referred to Marcy.
“Are you and Dr. P. having problems?” I ventured.
She drew in another long puff from the cigarette. “Let’s just say, we’re not seeing eye-to-eye.” She resumed her frantic movements around the office, and I watched in horror as the ashes dropped from her lit cigarette to the new ivory carpet.
I trailed her and used the toe of my shoe to grind out any sparks. I’d worry about getting the carpet cleaned later. Right now, I didn’t want us going up in flames.
“I hope they try St. Edna and throw away the key. Better yet, we do have the death penalty in Virginia. Maybe she’ll get that.” She threw her head back and laughed.
“That’s not very nice.”
She stopped and regarded me in open curiosity. “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you feel sorry for the old bat. She has everything. Or rather, did. She took Robert away from me and I’d be happy to see her fry for her crime. You know, I saw her come out of the office that morning. At first, I thought she had finally convinced Robert to do couples therapy. But then I knew he’d never agree to that. It was over between them. Over. She’d cut him off without a cent. That was all he hung around for anyway. Did you know that? He wanted the money, not her. She thought she was making him more dependent on her by tightening the purse strings. But she had no idea what that would do to a man like Robert. It sealed her fate. And I sealed hers when I told the police I’d seen her here that day.”
My jaw dropped. What was Daley & Palmer, Grand Central Station? It certainly had been busy before I got to work that day. At least now I knew who had told the police about Edna’s visit to the office.
“What were you doing here?”
She waved her hand dismissively at me. “I was meeting Craig Ancarrow, but it doesn’t matter. All that matters was that I saw her. And you and I both know she killed my Robert.” The maliciousness of her tone caused me to step back.
Let the ashes fall where they may. I’d play Smoky the Bear later. This woman was pure evil and a fruitcake to boot. Did she really see Edna that day or had she made it up to get revenge?
“You don’t believe me, do you? I don’t care. Nothing matters to me now. I have nothing to live for. And no reason to protect anyone.” She pulled another cigarette out of her case and lit up. I searched around to see if I could find out where she’d put the other one. But she still had it dangling haphazardly from her left hand. Oh, great. Now I’d have to watch both of her hands. And both cigarettes.
“What about Tony?” I thought maybe thinking about the man who still loved her might bring her to her senses, or at least slow her mania down.
“Tony? Tony is an idiot. A boy. With a foolish boy’s dreams. If Robert hadn’t come along, Tony and I would have been history anyway.” She puffed on the new cigarette and seemed distracted to see that she still held the old one. She marched over to my desk and put the first one out in my paper clip holder.
Okay, rude.
“The only person I know more idiotic than Tony is that stupid attorney representing St. Edna.”
Granted Jack wasn’t trained in criminal law, but I hoped he’d get the best help he could for Edna’s defense.
Then it struck me. “You know Jack?”
Anna swept her hand through the air, leaving an arc of smoldering ash in her wake. “Of course, I know Jack. I could tell you stories about him that would curl your hair.”
Actually, I could have told her stories, but hey. Better I forget about swapping Jerk stories and find out how my rotten ex figured into this unholy mess.
“It’s better for me if the bitch is represented by him,” she continued. “She’ll fry that much faster.”
“Anna!” Marcy’s voice came from behind us.
I turned, never so relieved to see anyone in my life. The psychiatrist strode into the room, shot one horrified look in Anna’s direction and swiftly ushered her 9:00 through the waiting area and out the suite door.
Then she took the cigarette from Anna Blake’s hand and threw it into my mug of water. Gee, thanks, Marcy. And here I’d thought it was bad protocol to defile the paper clip holder. I was throwing the mug out, too. No amount of Dawn detergent could make me drink from that cup again.
“Anna, into my office this instant. Becca, I’ll speak with you later.”
And in a puff of smoke, so to speak, they both disappeared into Dr. P.’s private office.
Not even 10:30 in the morning and my nerves were shot to hell. If I made it past my probationary period, I was strongly thinking of asking for combat pay.