He started to speak, and then stopped. No matter how much pain Alan had been in when he came to my office, no matter how angry he had been or how ashamed he’d felt, I’d never seen him like this. His strong bone structure seemed to have softened. His eyes, which had expressed wisdom even when they had glazed over with embarrassment, were now filled with hopelessness.
“Alan, why won’t you talk about this with me?”
He searched for the words, speaking with halts between the phrases. “If Kira…if she…whatever she had to do…everything is my fault. I won’t explain it any more than that. Don’t ask me to. Don’t ask her to. This is just how it has to be, Morgan.”
“Your wife is sick over what you’ve done.”
He nodded. “What wife wouldn’t be sick to find out her husband had murdered three young women?”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“I don’t want to talk about what you mean.”
Somewhere someone cackled and let out a string of expletives. Neither of us tried to talk over it.
“I have put men here,” he said.
Our eyes locked.
“Alan, you don’t belong here.”
“How do you know? Don’t you see? I’m where I need to be. There is evidence on my computer that I visited those women. Evidence on those women’s computers that I contacted them. That I asked them to use those tainted products. If I didn’t do this, Dr. Snow, who else but my wife could have used my e-mail account? Who else knew that I visited those sites? That I had, indeed, watched those women over and over.”
“But what if you are wrong? What if she’s just trying to make you think she did it. What if-”
“Dr. Snow, listen to me.” His voice was low and urgent. “There is proof on my computer that I visited those sites on days and times when I did not go there. Clearly Kira went there. She followed my trail. She watched those women. I told you that weeks ago. There is proof on those women’s computers that I sent them e-mail asking them to use the items that were poisoned. What don’t you understand about what I’m telling you?”
I ignored the sarcastic snipe. The pressure he was under excused him.
“Alan, do you understand that the police won’t keep working this case as long as you are here? If your wife didn’t do this, and if you didn’t do this, then there’s someone out there who did kill those women. I know what I’m asking of you, but what if I’m right? What if you go to jail and I’m right and whoever has done this does it again? Then you really will have someone’s blood on your hands. You’ll be a judge responsible for a murder. How will you live with that?”
He shook his head. “And what if you are wrong? What would happen if Kira went on trial? Can you imagine what that would do to her? To her reputation? Her stature? Her sanity? It’s been hard on her. She’s given up so much to be Kira Rushkoff, Esquire.” His voice was pleading again. “She doesn’t have anything left to give up.
“What happened to your wrist?” he asked, suddenly noticing my arm.
I shrugged. “I slipped.”
“Is it broken?”
I nodded.
“It will heal. In six, seven weeks.” There was a weight to his words. And he was looking off into the distance as if he could see the day when my cast would come off and he knew where he would be by then, what would have happened to him.
“You can’t talk to the police about any of this. You understand that, don’t you? No matter how sure you are of what you think, I will not allow it. You do not want to test me on this, do you understand?”
“Are you threatening me, Alan? Are you trying to scare me?”
“If that’s what it takes, yes. You will not discuss this with anyone. Is that understood?”
“Do you have Terry Meziac following me?”
Like his wife had done earlier that day, Alan stopped answering.
The frustration I felt made me want to scream and cry at the same time. “I want you to know I had no intention of talking to anyone without your consent. You didn’t have to scare me, too. But you have.”
And then for the first time since I’d gotten there, I saw Alan’s mouth lift. His smile was the saddest I’d ever seen.
“Call him off, Alan. I won’t bother you anymore. You’re on your own.”
Seventy-Four
The whole way back to the office, I forced myself not to turn around to see if anyone was following me. When I got out in front of the office, I didn’t look over my shoulder to search for Terry Meziac. I knew that even if he was following me, he wasn’t there to hurt me, but to scare me. And no one could do that to me anymore.
I was getting a cold and my throat was sore. I wanted to go home and crawl into bed. Instead, I popped a throat lozenge, made some tea and saw my next patient. And then the next. I was waiting for Blythe when Allison called. “I forgot to tell you, the day you were out-yesterday-Blythe canceled, and I gave a new patient her spot. She’s on her way up.”
Moments later, Amanda stood at the door to my office, snow dripping off her boots and melting in her hair. There were bright spots in the middle of her cheeks. She couldn’t seem to cross the threshold.
“You can come in,” I said, encouraging her. “It’s okay. I’m really glad to see you.”
Tentatively, she took a small step forward. Her skinny body was wrapped up in a big black down coat, and she had her suede boots on her feet. She left melting snow in her wake.
Once inside, she froze again, holding her knapsack close to her chest and looking at me as if asking me to get up and usher her farther in.
“Take off your coat-it’s warm in here.”
She took one cautious step after another, as if she were walking on a bed of nails. Finally, she made it inside and over to the couch, where she shrugged out of her coat and sat on it. She went through that whole maneuver without letting go of the knapsack.
“Me being here, it’s a secret, right? Like at school?”
“Yes. Completely.”
Despite my response, Amanda didn’t relax.
“Do I have to pay you?”
“We can work that out later, okay?”
She nodded.
“This is harder than you thought it was going to be, isn’t it?”
She nodded again.
“What did you think it was going to be like?”
“I was hoping that somehow you’d know what I wanted to tell you, and I wouldn’t have to say anything.”
I laughed. “I think all my patients wish that I could read their minds and they wouldn’t have to talk. But I can’t, so you’re going to have to tell me. I can promise you, though, that I won’t be shocked or surprised, and I won’t judge you.”
“I know that from what goes on at school.”
I nodded and waited. Amanda still hadn’t looked around at all. Her fingers had not loosened from the knapsack strap. A few seconds went by. And then a few more. She started to play with the tab on the zipper, teasing it up an inch and then rezipping it.
As much as I wanted to coax her, I didn’t want to scare her off. Not when she had come this far.
Finally: “This is really complicated, Dr. Snow. It has to do with things that no one knows about.” She frowned. “Well, some people know but…”
“Do your parents know?”
She shook her head adamantly.
“Okay. They won’t find out. Not unless you want to tell them yourself.”
She wasn’t listening to me anymore but staring intently at a glass box that hung on the wall behind my desk. Inside was an iridescent blue butterfly, a gift from Nina.
“That’s weird,” she whispered.
“What is?”
“That you have a butterfly like that.”
“Why?”
“Do you like them?”
I nodded. She looked around my office now and noticed the butterfly print on the wall and the glass butterfly paperweight on my desk. Her expression became tortured. Without saying anything, she stood, reached down for her coat, muttered a few unintelligible words and ran out of my office.