Jerry got to his feet. His jeans were dark where the wet grass had soaked them. “Everything’s fine, Henry.”
The security guard stared at the PI’s swelling face. “Everything doesn’t look fine.”
Jerry waved a hand. “Just a misunderstanding.”
Henry looked at the two men. “Did something happen with Mr. Wolfe?” he stage-whispered.
“Nothing to be concerned about.” Jerry used his best cop’s voice. “We’re leaving. Sorry for the disturbance, ma’am,” he called to the elderly lady, still watching them with birdlike intensity. “Please go back to sleep. Didn’t mean to wake you.”
The woman ignored his apologies. “Everything okay, Henry?” she asked.
“Everything’s fine, Mrs. Hoffer.” The guard tried to smile, but it was clear he was as rattled as she was. “It’s under control, ma’am.”
“I told my son and his floozy wife not to move to this ghetto neighborhood. If it weren’t for my grandchildren, I wouldn’t step foot here.” Grumbling, the old woman started back inside. “But no, he says, the East Side’s too expensive. Too uppity, too crowded…” Her voice trailed off as she went back into the house. The door slammed behind her.
Henry looked uncomfortable. “Did you guys get what you needed? Because you should get going now. If you’re not visiting anyone here…” He nodded toward Wolfe’s house.
“We’re done,” Jerry said, more to Morris than the security guard.
It was a long ride back to Seattle. Morris tried to apologize several more times, but each attempt was met with icy silence. When Jerry pulled into the empty parking lot where Morris had left his car earlier, he gave it one more shot.
“I’m really sorry.”
Jerry’s eye had swollen considerably since they’d left Lake Stevens. Morris knew his words were probably meaningless, but he forged ahead anyway. “I went a little nuts. You didn’t deserve it, God knows.”
Jerry cut the engine. “I’d say it’s okay, but you know what, man? It’s not. I was trying to help you back there, trying to stop you from doing something that might get you arrested, not to mention embarrass you and push Sheila away, but-”
“I was too pigheaded to listen. I know. I can be a total ass.”
Jerry shook his head. “I can’t stop you from going back there if that’s what you’re gonna do. You’re as stubborn as a bull, Morris.” Jerry touched his face and winced. “But I hope you don’t. You hired me to find Sheila and I finally have a solid lead. But she’s not found yet. Do you want me to keep doing my job or not?”
“I do.” Morris felt terrible about hitting Jerry. The goddamned alcohol was making him crazy and paranoid and stupid.
“From now on you stay out of it. I’ll call you if I learn anything, but I work by myself. As I always have.”
Morris tried to think of a polite way to say what he needed to say. He chose his words carefully. “I understand that. I’m too close to this, I get that now. But it’s really difficult for me to back off. I can’t take feeling this helpless. There’s gotta be something I can do.” He rubbed his head. “Maybe I should call Sheila’s therapist. She’s not supposed to tell me anything, but I never did ask her about Ethan Wolfe. I’m sure Sheila’s talked about him-”
“It’s late. You have her home number?”
“No.” Morris’s frustration swelled again.
Jerry sighed and pulled out his notepad. “What’s her name? I’m sure I can find it for you. Don’t get your hopes up, though, because these people take doctor-patient confidentiality very seriously. I doubt she’ll give you anything.”
“It’s worth a shot.” Morris reached for his BlackBerry. “Her name is Chang. Marianne Chang. I have her office number here in case you need to cross-reference-” Morris stopped when he saw the PI staring at him, his pen poised over his notebook. “C-H-A-N-G. What, you want me to spell out Marianne, too?”
Jerry tucked his notebook back into his breast pocket, his face the picture of amusement, even with the swelling eye. “It’s your lucky night. I know the lady. Personally.”
“You do?” Morris grinned with relief. “Finally, something’s going our way. Maybe you can get something out of her.”
“If anyone has a shot, it’s me.” The private investigator gave Morris a sideways glance and cleared his throat. “Of all the therapists in all the towns in all the world… craziest thing, Morris. Dr. Marianne Chang? She’s my wife, Annie.”
CHAPTER 36
T he house was dark when Jerry let himself in, but he knew Annie might still be up. In a hurry, he kicked off his shoes and raced up the staircase, his leather jacket still on.
He was glad to see his wife wide-awake when he entered their bedroom, but was dismayed at the pissed-off look on her face. He moved in to kiss her but she turned her head at the last second. Instead of her lips, he got a freshly scrubbed cheek.
“Are you nuts?” Annie had a book in her lap and her dark eyes glared at him behind thin reading glasses. “Keisha’s sleeping. You sounded like a gorilla coming up those stairs.” His niece and part-time receptionist often slept over.
“Sorry,” Jerry whispered. He shrugged off his coat and flopped next to her on the bed. “We gotta talk.”
“I figured.” She wasn’t amused. She bookmarked her page by folding in one corner, a trait he’d always found strange since she loved books and otherwise took good care of them. She took in his face. “What happened to you?”
“Tell you later. Right now I want to talk about Sheila Tao. She’s your patient, yes?”
Annie removed her glasses. “Yes,” she said warily. “And how, exactly, would you know that?”
“Because her fiancé, Morris Gardener, is my client. He’s hired me to find her.”
Annie’s jaw didn’t quite drop, but her mouth did open slightly. “You’re shitting me.”
Jerry couldn’t help but grin. His wife didn’t swear often.
“I had no idea he was going to hire a PI.” Annie’s voice grew faint as she processed this information. “Since he hadn’t called me, I assumed he’d let it go and was moving on. He said Sheila had made it very clear…” Her face clouded over.
Jerry put a comforting hand on her thigh. “You’re not a babysitter, honey. If a patient wants to take off, what are you supposed to do? Assume the worst every time? You deal with adults who need therapy, not children who aren’t allowed to run away. And by the way,” he said, his eyes narrowing, “when did you start treating sex addiction? That’s news to me.”
His wife gave him a look. “And when did you start handling missing persons again? I thought all you’d been doing since you went civilian is catch cheating spouses.”
She didn’t know about the deal Jerry had going with Torrance, so he quickly changed the subject. “What can you tell me about Sheila?”
Annie frowned at him. “You know I can’t tell you anything about our sessions.”
“Give me a break.” Jerry stifled a sigh. “You’re not on trial here. I’m not going to do anything to make you lose your license. I’m your husband. I just need some information.”
“About?” Her tone was careful.
“Ethan Wolfe.”
She exhaled slowly. “You think he had something to do with her leaving?”
“So he is the one she cheated on him with. I can tell by the look on your face.”
His wife didn’t respond.
“You’re seriously going to play this game?” Jerry said, exasperated.
Annie’s frown deepened. “This is my job we’re talking about. What I do is confidential. Just like what you do is confidential.”
“Yeah, and how’s that working out for us?” Jerry didn’t bother to rein in his sarcasm. “Sheila Tao is missing, her fiancé’s going crazy wondering if she’s okay, I’m discovering all kinds of skeletons in her closet like sex addiction, online cheating, an affair with her teaching assistant, and you, my wife, might have been able to provide answers to this whole thing days ago if we were the kind of couple who actually talked to each other about our goddamned jobs. She’s your patient. You care what happens to her, don’t you?”