"Are you okay?"
She was down on her knees before the dresser. She had something red clutched against her chest. She looked up at him with a look that Ed instantly recognized—the same helpless, tortured look that he'd seen on her sister's face before she went through the window at the Plaza.
"Sweet Jesus!" he said. "What's wrong?"
With tears glistening in her eyes, she held up something red, something leather. He didn't know what it was. Just then the phone rang. She dropped the red leather thing and ran into the front room. He could hear her on the phone, talking to "Rob," asking him to get over here as soon as he could.
It took him a moment but he finally recognized the red leather thing lying at his feet. It was a miniskirt.
▼
Rob stared at the note scrawled on the back of the Con Ed bill. It was rank insanity. His skin crawled at the thought of what kind of mind had dreamed this up— and then addressed it to Kara.
"This is scary stuff."
"You're telling me!"
Kara looked spooked. Her eyes had a haunted, hunted look as she sat at the table and twisted her hands together. Ed the Lawyer had scooted off as soon as Rob had showed, all but falling over himself in his hurry to get out the door, leaving behind some papers for Kara to sign, saying he'd pick them up some other time.
Something about that guy…
"But that's not the worst of it!" Kara said. She held up a leather miniskirt, a pair of black panty house, and a black ruffled blouse. "Look at this!"
After Ed had left, she had told Rob about her dream, and what Ed had said about spotting her last night with somebody wearing a turban.
"Maybe you missed it when you cleaned things out the other night," Rob said, not believing it himself. Oh no, not after his Tuesday night with Kara. How could he?
"I didn't miss it, Rob. I threw out every sleazy thing I found. This was not under the dresser when I turned in Monday night!"
He could see she was getting more upset.
"Okay, okay. Take it easy. I was just trying to offer an alternative explanation."
Her expression was bleak. "Rob, what's happening to me?"
"I don't know. And I don't know how to help you. But I'll do anything I can. You know that." He tapped his finger on the Con Ed bill. "I do know I can do something about this, though."
"What?"
"Show it to the guy whose return address is on the envelope."
With Kara along, Rob drove back to the precinct house. Handling them by the edges, he xeroxed the check, the front of the envelope, and both sides of the bill. Then he sealed each of the three in clear plastic evidence envelopes.
"I'll get them dusted for prints as soon as possible. That'll be a futile exercise with the envelope, what with all the people who've handled it legitimately since it was mailed, but the bill may yield something useful."
Kara only nodded. Her mind seemed elsewhere.
"I want your prints, too."
"Why?"
"To eliminate them. You handled the letter. Even if we don't get a single print off it, that note will still be useful in keeping your sister's case open."
"Really?" Some interest began to show in her eyes. Good.
"Sure. The part about how you'll 'end up like your sister' can be construed as a threat to you, plus it implies foul play in Kelly's death."
"Do you think it's a threat?"
"No. I think it's meant as a warning. There's a screwed up mind out there that knows something about Kelly's death—or things it knows something—and has sent you a warning. I don't think he means you any harm."
" 'He'? How do you know it's a he?"
Rob handed her the xerox of the note.
"Doesn't that look like a man's handwriting?"
She nodded. "I guess so."
He snapped his fingers. "I ought to submit this for handwriting analysis. That could be real interesting. But for the moment, we're going to see how the esteemed Dr. Gates reacts to this."
Kara was watching him closely.
"You're really looking forward to that, aren't you?"
Rob grinned, unable to suppress the gleeful anticipation rising through him.
"Are you kidding?" he said. "I can hardly wait."
▼
1:57 P.M.
"Ask the doctor to squeeze us in between appointments," Rob told the receptionist.
Her tone was dubious. "I'll see what I can do."
Rob gave her his best and strongest tough cop stare. "Do. It's a police matter. Very important." They sat in the waiting room with one other person, an attractive woman of about twenty-five. Rob watched her read a magazine and nibble steadily at her already well-chewed fingernails. When the current appointment exited the consultation room, Rob nudged Kara and rose to his feet. He headed for the inner room door without waiting for the receptionist's okay. "Just a minute, sir—" she began.
Rob ignored her. He didn't want to give Gates time to set himself up. He wanted to catch him off guard and keep him that way. Maybe the doctor would let something slip.
"Dr. Gates," he said, marching up to the desk and looking down at him, "we have a new development in the Kelly Wade case. I need to question you about it."
"I resent this intrusion, Detective Harris," he said, appearing properly indignant. "Certainly this could have waited until after hours."
"No, sir, it couldn't." He pulled the xeroxes from his pocket and unfolded them. He glanced at Kara standing uncertainly behind him. "Ms. Wade received this today. I need your input on it immediately."
Rob handed the sheets to Gates and then seated himself in the chair closest to the desk where he could get a better angle on the doctor's face. He wanted to watch his expression as he read.
Rob had arranged the sheets in a specific order. First the envelope face, then the check, then the front of the electric bill, then the reverse side.
Gates' brow furrowed as he looked at the first page. It remained furrowed until he reached the fourth. Then his eyebrows shot up and he started as if someone had goosed him.
"This is incredible!" he said glancing quickly at Rob and then back down.
He glanced once at the first sheet, then went back to the fourth, shaking his head. Rob saw anger and outrage in Gates' expression, which he had expected, but he saw something else that surprised him: a sort of grudging admiration. There was even an instant when Rob could have sworn that a rueful smile had flitted across the doctor's face.
Finally he put the papers down and leaned back in his chair.
"Well!" he said. "This is quite interesting!"
"Interesting?" Kara said. "Is that what you call it?"
Rob had been concentrating so on Gates that he had forgotten about Kara. She was still standing behind him.
"Yes. Although I suppose it was quite frightening for you."
"You might say that."
Kara settled into the other chair before the desk.
"Have any idea who it is?" Rob said.
"I know exactly who she is."
"She?"
"Yes. A paranoid schizophrenic. Delusions of being controlled by another are quite common among individuals with that diagnosis."
"But this patient doesn't say anything about herself being controlled by you. She wrote to Kara, and she mentions Kelly."
"Yes. But she believes I control her, as well. It's not uncommon for the paranoid schiz to see their therapist as a powerful individual with mystical powers to control people, especially themselves. After all, the purpose of my interaction with them is to help them change their behavior through therapy and medication. It's not a big step to interpret that as robbing them of control of their lives. That way they can blame me for their bizarre behavior. It's quite common, really."