Jonathan Kellerman - When The Bough Breaks

"There's no way to get in touch with the executors of his will?"

"The executor is a partner in Edwin Hayden's law firm. For all I know he's one of them. I can do without wealth when all it means is a fancy funeral."

She used her chair to climb out of the window. I followed her. We walked in the direction of the big, black house.

"You worked with the children from my school. How are they doing?"

"Very well. The prognosis is good. They're amazingly resilient."

"That's good."

A few steps later:

"And the parents - did they hate me?"

"Some. Others were surprisingly loyal and defended you. It created a schism in the group. They worked it out."

"I'm glad. I think about them often."

She accompanied me to the edge of the swamp that fronted the mansion.

"I'll let you go the rest of the way by yourself. How does the arm feel?"

"Stiff, but nothing serious. I'll survive."

I held out my hand and she took it.

"Good luck," she said. "Same to you."

I walked through weeds and mud, chilled and tired. When I turned around to look she was gone.

I stayed in the ferry's dining room drinking coffee for much of the return trip to the mainland, going over what I'd learned. When I got back to the hotel I called Milo at the station, was told he wasn't there and tried his home number. Rick Silverman answered.

"Hi, Alex. There's static. Is this long distance?"

"It is. Seattle. Is Milo back yet?"

"No. I expect him tomorrow. He went to Mexico on a supposed vacation but it sounds like work to me."

"It is. He's looking into the background of a guy named McCaffrey."

"I know. The minister with the children's home. He said you turned him on to it."

"I may have sparked his interest but when I spoke to him about it he brushed me off. Did he mention what led him to make the trip?"

"Let me see - I recall his saying he phoned the police down there - it's some small town, I forget the name - and they jerked him around. They implied they had something juicy for him but that he'd have to come up with some bucks to get it. It surprised me - I thought cops cooperated with each other - but he said that's the way they always are."

"That's it?"

"That's it. He invited me to come along but it didn't work out well with my schedule - I had a twenty - four - hour shift coming up and it would have required too much trading with the other guys." "Have you heard from him since he left?"

"Just a postcard from the airport at Guadalajara. An old peasant pulling a burro next to a Saguaro cactus that looked plastic. Very classy stuff. He wrote "Wish you were here' on it."

I laughed.

"If he does call, tell him to give me a ring. I've got some more information for him."

"Will do. Anything specific?"

"No. Just have him call."

"Okay."

"Thanks. Look forward to meeting you some day, Rick."

"Likewise. Maybe when he gets back and wraps things up."

"Sounds good."

I got out of my clothes and examined the arm. There was some oozing, but nothing bad. Kim Hickle had done a good patch up job. I did a half - hour of limbering exercise and a bit of karate, then soaked in a hot bath for forty - five minutes while reading the throwaway guide to Seattle the hotel had furnished.

I called Robin, got no answer, dressed and went for dinner. I remembered a place from my previous visit, a cedar - paneled room overlooking Lake Union, where they barbecued salmon over alder wood. I found it, using my memory and a map, arrived early enough to get a table with a view, and proceeded to put away a large salad with Roquefort, a beautiful coral - colored chinook filet, potatoes, beans, a basket of hot cornbread and two Coors. I topped it off with homemade blackberry ice cream and coffee and, with a full belly, watched the sun go down over the lake.

I browsed a couple of bookstores in the University District, found nothing exciting or uplifting, and drove back to the hotel. There was an Oriental imports shop in the lobby, still open. I went in, bought a green coloisonne necklace for Robin, and rode the elevator back up to my room. At nine I called her again. This time she answered.

"Alex! I was hoping it was you."

"How are you, doll? I called you a couple of hours ago."

"I went out for dinner. By my lonesome. Ate an omelette in a corner of the Cafe Pelican all by myself. Isn't that a pathetic image?"

"I supped alone, too, my lady."

"How sad. Come home soon, Alex. I miss you."

"I miss you too."

"Was the trip productive?"

"Very." I filled her in on the details, careful to exclude my encounter with Otto.

"You're really on to something. Don't you feel strange, uncovering all those secrets?"

"Not really, but I'm not looking at it from the outside."

"I am, and believe me, it's freaky, Alex. I'll just be glad when Milo gets back and he can take over."

"Yes. How are things going with you?"

"Nothing nearly as exciting. One thing new. This morning I got a call from the head of a new feminist group - it's a kind of a women's chamber of commerce. I fixed this woman's banjo, she came down to pick it up and we got to talking. This was a couple of months ago. Anyway, she called and invited me to give a lecture to their group next week. The topic's something like The Female Artisan in Contemporary Society subtitle Creativity Meets the Business World."

"That's fantastic. I'll be sure to be there listening if they let me in."

"Don't you dare! I'm scared enough as it is. Alex, I've never given a speech before - I'm absolutely petrified."

"Don't worry. You know what you're talking about, you're bright and articulate, they'll love you."

"So you say."

"So I say. Listen, if you're really nervous I'll do a little hypnosis with you. To help you relax. It'll be a piece of cake."

"You think hypnosis will help?"

"Sure. With your imagination and creativity you'll be a terrific subject."

"I've heard you talk about it, how you used to do it with patients, but I never thought of asking you to do it with me."

"Usually, darling, we find other ways to occupy our time together."

"Hypnosis," she said. "Now I've got something else to worry about."

"Don't worry. It's harmless."

"Totally?"

"Yes. Totally, in your case. The only time you run into a problem is when the subject has major emotional conflicts or deep - seated problems. In those cases hypnosis can dredge up primal memories. You get a stress reaction, some terror. But even that can be helpful. The trained psychotherapist uses the anxiety constructively, to help the patient work it through."

"And that couldn't happen to me?"

"Certainly not. I guarantee it. You're the most normal person I've ever met."

"Ha. You've been retired too long!"

"I challenge you to come up with one single symptom of psychopathology."

"How about extreme horniness, hearing your voice and wanting to be able to touch you and grab you and put you in me?"

"Hmmm. Sounds serious."

"Then come on back and do something about it, Doctor."

"I'll be back tomorrow. Treatment will commence immediately."

"What time?"

"The plane lands at ten - a half - hour after that."

"Damn, I forgot - I have to go to Santa Barbara tomorrow morning. My aunt's sick, in the I.C.U at Cottage Hospital. It's a family thing, I have to be there. If you came in earlier we could have breakfast before I leave."

"I'm taking the earliest flight, honI suppose I could postpone it, show up later."

"Visit your aunt. We'll have dinner."

"It might be a late dinner."

"Drive straight to my place and we'll take it from there."

"All right. I'll try to make it by eight."

"That's great. Speedy recovery to your aunt. I love you."

"Love you too. Take care."