𝐂 𝐡 𝐚 𝐩 𝐭 𝐞 𝐫  𝟗

     “Wait, doc,” Meredith murmured, moving toward my desk. “You know someone in rehab who wanted to hurt you?”

     “I wished. Not someone. It’s worse than that. She’s my sister and also a drug addict.” I swallowed hard, then added, “She hates me because I put her there. She tried to kill me. Twice.”

     Detective Spade threw me a look, kept his eyes on me, and then moved them away.

     “Whoa!” Meredith let out. “That’s a hell of a family feud. You think she could’ve had something to do with the murders?”

     I shook my head frantically. “No. One—she can’t get out of the rehab center. I made sure of that. Two—she’s not smart. She couldn’t have killed anyone of them without being caught in the act. Three—she hates me. If she wants to settle a score, she’ll attack me. Not my clients.”

     “Okay,” Meredith said, “so she’s eliminated from the list. Got anybody who hates you enough to kill your clients?”

     “I’d have to think thoroughly first. Give me a day or two, and I will get back to you.”

     “All right.” She went into her pocket and pulled out a card. Handing it over she said, “Call me if you get anything.”

     I flipped the card in my hands, my mind grappling with the thoughts someone would kill my clients just to get even with me. Then Garry’s voice echoed.

     There was a figure last night standing on the street and watching the house.

     Oh my God! Could this be the same person Garry saw yesterday? Should I tell the cops? I didn’t completely trust them. Meredith seemed like a nice cop. Spade, on the other hand, was very hostile toward me. They can’t help me when they think I’m hiding something. I had to get to the bottom of this. On my own.

     I placed the card behind my purse. “Sure.”

     Meredith adjusted her jacket and stood.

     Spade cleared his throat. “Should we look into this as a single murder?”

     I had thought the murders weren’t connected at first until Meredith mentioned her hunch to me. “At the moment, yes. Check Lucas out. If Rosalind broke up with him, then he has a very plausible reason to kill her. He financially depended on her.”

     “We’ll need his home address now,” he said.

     “Sure.” I felt their eyes on me as I walked to the built-in cabinet where I stored the files of my clients. I pulled out Rosalind’s file and glanced over the pages. I walked to my desk, grabbed a pen, and wrote down Lucas’ home address.

     I extended a hand. “Here you go.”

     Meredith collected it, looked at it, and dipped it into her pocket. “Thanks for your time, Doc.”

     “Anytime,” I said, hoping I wouldn’t ever have to see them again.

     Spade had taken the lead. Meredith followed behind. They walked out, closing the door.

     I let out a sigh, then fell back on the chair. This wasn’t good. The murders were connected. I was the target. Edna! I had to see her. I hadn’t heard from her in a while. But first things first. I’d have to go—

     The door swung open without so much as a knock. Dr. Mann stood on the threshold, holding two styrofoam cups. Her brown her swinging wantonly, she made it to my desk in seconds, the clicks of her high heels piercing my ears.

     “Hey,” she murmured, handing me a cup.

     I took it. “Thanks.”

     She placed her cup on the desk and tucked straying hair behind her big ears. “I just saw two detectives down the corridor leading to your office. I recognized one of them.” She peered her slender face with deep blue eyes at me. “Is everything all right?”

     I took a sip and then set the cup aside. “No. Remember the client I told you about?”

     “Yeah. The one whose funeral you attended yesterday?”

     I nodded. “The cops think her murder is connected to the other two murders and I’m the connection.”

     Her jaw dropped. “No way. Three murders and you’re the connection? That’s serious. Do they think you’re a suspect?”

     “Yes. At least Detective Spade harbors the thoughts I’m hiding something from him.”

     She sipped. “Well, are you?”

     My brows squeezed inwardly, but I stopped myself before a frown showed on my face. Why’d she ask me that? I had secrets of my own I’d prefer not to tell Detective Spade and Meredith, even if it was related to the case they were solving. Who didn’t have a secret? If Spade thought I was hiding something from him, then he wasn’t entirely wrong. I’m keeping a secret, but it isn’t what Spade is thinking.

     “No, I’m not. Why would you even ask me that?”

     “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that. I know you can’t possibly be hiding something from them.”

     That’s the problem with people. We assumed a lot. You never really know what goes on in people’s heads.

     “How are you holding up? You need some time off?”

     “No. I’m fine.”

     “You’re not. I recognize the look on your face.”

     I decided to act oblivion. “What look?”

     She fingered my face. “Your eyes are sunken and your cheeks are blanched.” She curled her lips. “You’re blaming yourself for the murders.”

     I had almost forgotten I was sitting in front of a fellow therapist. Although her specialty was a little darker than mine, I knew she could still see through someone who was blaming herself for something. “I’m not one of your clients, Eva,” I said sternly. “Don’t analyze me.”

     “Then don’t give me a reason to.” She sipped again, emptying the content. “Look. This isn’t your fault. I don’t even understand why Detective whatever will think you’re hiding something. You did what you could for your clients. You always do.”

     I didn’t need her motivational speech. If I had done my job well, Rosalind would still be alive. If I had reported Lucas to the cops, they would have arrested him. But then I realized none of my reasonings were sound. Assuming I had reported Lucas, what would the cops charge him with? And I wasn’t entirely sure he murdered Rosalind.

     I directed my eyes to Eva. “Maybe you’re right, but I’m fine.”

     “If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m just some paces away.” She reached for my hands and touched them in compassion.

     I patted hers. Eva was always looking out for me. I suddenly wished I could tell her things about the case, but I would be getting her into trouble. “I know.”

     “I didn’t see your car in the parking lot. I was worried you couldn’t come today.”

     My car! I had almost forgotten about it. “It’s in the parking garage, a thirty-minute ride from here.”

     She looked at me. “You left your car in a parking garage? How on earth did you get here?”

     “Long story. I went to the bar to drown my sorrows last night. I drank too much. Guess who I met.”

     “It must’ve been difficult. Who did you meet?”

     “Garry.”

     “Garry? As in Garry?”

     “Yes. I was so drunk I couldn’t walk. He took me home and drove me here this morning.”

     “Wow! Did you guys settle your differences?”

     “No. I don’t think I can ever forgive him for what he did.”

     Her face dropped. “C’mon, Avery. It’s been years, and he said he’s sorry.”

     “Sorry doesn’t change the fact he abandoned Mathew because of his work.” My voice was harsh, I didn’t like the sound of it. I sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

     “I understand. I know you’re still hurt by what he did, but you can’t continue living like this. Carrying this grudge with you.” She touched my hand. “Maybe you should talk about it.”

     I withdrew my hand. “I’m fine.”

     “I hate to tell you this, but you’re not.”

     “See? You’re still analyzing me.”

     She shrugged. “Could you blame me?”

     I smiled. “I will be fine, Eva. I just need more time to heal.”

     “All right, if you say so.” She stood, grabbing the cup. “I’ll be heading to the supermarket to get a couple of things. Should I get you anything?”

     “No. Thanks.”

     “I could give you a ride to where you left your car.”

     “Sounds like a good idea.” I picked up my purse and stood. “After you.”