Christine’s voice trembled. “I don’t know, okay?”
“We’ve all got stuff to figure out.” Lane said, reaching for a sweating glass of beer.
“Speaking of which, you’ve got an appointment with a psychiatrist.” Arthur pointed his fork at Lane. “Tuesday morning.”
“And what are we going to say to the surgeon on Friday?” Lane asked.
“You’re coming with me?”
“Of course.”
TUESDAY, AUGUST 21
chapter 7
Lane looked across the low, round table at Dr. Alexandre. She looked, smelled, and sounded like a blonde southern belle. Her white blouse was ruffled and buttoned at the throat. She wore blue slacks and pumps. There were wedding and engagement rings on the appropriate finger of her left hand. She kept her hands in her lap. The scent of lavender permeated the air of her office.
“Thanks for the coffee.” He raised his cup and smiled.
“Loraine said you’re a very humane man underneath it all. That you’ve somehow managed to hold onto that despite what you’ve experienced.” Dr. Alexandre’s smile was gone.
Lane put the cup down. So even my friends are involved. It begins.
“She said that your family excommunicated you.” Dr. Alexandre put air quotes around “excommunicated.” “She also said you probably wouldn’t want to talk with me.”
To hell with it! If she wants the story, she gets it all. “Just after I came out to my family, none of my calls to them were being returned. I left messages, but… I drove over to my parents’ house. It was around eight on a Sunday morning. I had a gift with me. It was Father’s Day. The lights were on in the kitchen and my brother’s car was parked out front. I knocked on the back door. There were footsteps on the stairs. I could see a silhouette through the translucent glass of the door. When I went to open the door, it was locked. I tried my key, but the lock had been changed. I knocked and tried the door again. There was the voice of my sister-in-law on the other side of the door, but I couldn’t make out what she was saying. So I hung the gift on the doorknob and left. Haven’t been back since.”
“What did it feel like?”
Lane shrugged. “It turned out to be a blessing. I was on my own, and there was no turning back.” I wonder if she’ll buy that.
“How did it feel to be locked out of the house you grew up in?”
Lane shook his head, unable to get the words out.
“I have another appointment soon. Can we meet again tomorrow morning? Same time?” Dr. Alexandre leaned forward. The collar of her blouse opened enough for Lane to see a prominent Adam’s apple.
“Okay.” Lane answered without considering what he’d just discovered. “Are you going to peel me like an onion?”
Dr. Alexandre studied Lane before responding. “Some people call it peeling an onion. I don’t. It’s more like juggling – the past, the present, and what we fear or hope will happen in the future. Then more stuff gets added. Eventually we need to learn how to start again when all of the balls hit the floor. And with you, it appears there is a massive amount of juggling going on.”
“You haven’t said much.” Keely sat at Harper’s old desk next to Lane. She wore a black jacket, slacks, and white blouse. Her hair was tied back. “We haven’t found out much besides the fact that a guy named Borislav Goran was accused of war crimes. So far, we’ve found ourselves short of specifics and big on generalizations.”
Lane thought, That’s not what she meant, but…
“That’s not what I meant. I meant you seem distracted. You have a lot on your mind.” She tapped her mouse and studied the computer screen.
“So you think you can read me?”
“Well, yes, since you asked.” Keely kept her eyes on the screen.
“Yes, there’s a lot on my mind.”
“I checked you out, you know. Some of the people I talked with said I lucked out to be able to work with you and a few said…” She glanced his way, and her face reddened as she realized she’d said too much.
“Finish the sentence.” Lane felt his deeply hidden emotions bracing for an impact.
“They say that you’ve never been promoted after making detective. That you play by your own rules, and that could be bad for my career, such as it is.”
“That’s all?” Lane watched Keely glance away.
Keely smiled and shook her head. “You’re playing with me.”
“Only a little. Look, you see if you can find out the malabarista Mladen’s last name, and I’ll walk down the hall to get some help with finding out more about Goran.” He stood up and walked to the door. “I’ll see if another resource is available.” He stepped out the door.
Lane found Lori at her desk. She looked up at him from behind pink-framed glasses.
“How was the anniversary dinner?” Lane asked.
“The kids cooked for us. It was nice. They even did the dishes.” She leaned left and looked past him. “How’s the new partner working out?”
“Hard to tell at this point. Some of her friends tell her I’m going to be bad for her career.” Lane smiled.
Lori laughed. “She might be right you know, except for…”
“Yes?” Lane waited for the joke he knew was coming.
“Your last partner ended up becoming deputy chief!”
Lane tilted his head one way, looked thoughtful, then rubbed his chin. “How come I didn’t think of that?”
“You detectives always miss the obvious.” Lori chuckled. “Isn’t that what Matt and Christine always say?”
“I need to get some information on war crimes.”
“The Hague?” Lori was all business now.
“Do you know any sites?” Lane sat on the edge of her desk.
“I’ll ask around. You two go get a coffee, bring me back a mochaccino, and we’ll see what I can find out.” Lori reached into the bottom drawer of her desk and pulled out an aluminum ice cube tray. Lori turned red as she looked up at Lane. “It came out of my mother’s fridge, okay? It’s where I keep business cards. Now go and get my coffee!”
Ten minutes later, Lane and Keely walked side by side up the open-air mall running east and west through the heart of downtown.
“Sniffing out another coffee shop?” Keely lifted her nose as they walked west.
“It’s just up here.” He stopped at a red light and waited. A man pushing a shopping cart looked their way, then leaned over, picked a bottle out of a garbage can, and tucked it into a white plastic bag inside the cart.
Keely looked at the sign outside of a restaurant across the street. “The Diner? Now that’s original.”
“Good breakfast and great coffee.” Lane anticipated the light changing, crossed the street, and held the door of The Diner open for her. He glanced over his shoulder as he heard the shopping cart’s wheels rumbling over the bricks of the mall.
Inside, Jen was behind the cash register. She gave Keely the once-over, then made eye contact with Lane. “Mornin’.”
“Two coffees and one mochaccino to go, please,” Lane said.
“Good timing. Just made a fresh pot,” Jen said over her shoulder.
They were outside sipping their coffees three minutes later.
“You’re right, it’s great coffee.” Keely smiled.
“We’ll go in for breakfast some day.” Lane closed his eyes and felt the morning sun on his face.
“Deal.” Keely hesitated. “My parents got another letter.”
Lane stopped, holding the mochaccino in one hand and the coffee in the other. “What did it say?”
“It suggested they start saving for their daughter’s funeral.” Keely started walking east. “My mom is freaking.”
“And your dad?”
“I’m afraid of what he might do. When it comes to his kids, he takes threats really seriously.” Kelly looked toward the glass and blue metal of City Hall as they waited for the green light.