Dr. Westmore reaches for a tissue, takes her time. “I have no idea.”

The fish stops swimming and looks straight at me, its gills and fins flapping. “Do you think it’s possible a patient might have been angry for some reason?”

She clears her throat and reaches for a mint. “I don’t think so. It’s possible, I suppose.”

“But Dr. Bradley didn’t mention anyone in particular to you?” I doodle in the margin of my notebook, drawing the blue fish.

“No. I have no idea how this could’ve happened.”

“You still don’t have any idea what was on his mind? Anything occur to you since we spoke yesterday?”

“Nothing.” She shakes her head.

“Okay.” I shut my notebook. “You mind showing me his office?”

We stand, and I follow her back across the waiting room. Dr. Bradley’s office is sparsely decorated in cool greens and blues but has the same couch-chair setup off to the side.

“Molly called me,” Dr. Westmore says. “She said to give you access to anything of Jay’s.”

“Yes. I spoke to her earlier today.”

I pull latex gloves from my pocket, snap them on. “There anything in particular you think I should look at?” I’m walking around, trying desk drawers and filing cabinets, but they’re all locked. Dr. Westmore removes a key ring from her pocket and shakes out a small key and hands it to me.

“I can’t think of anything,” she says.

I unlock the desk and start sifting through drawers. I take out a red leather-bound notebook. It looks like an appointment calendar, with last year stamped in gold on the front. I skim through the pages. “This looks like personal stuff.”

“Probably. Candace keeps track of patient appointments.”

“I’d like a printout of those appointments going back six months. We’ll need to talk to his patients.”

“We’ll need a warrant, Detective. We can’t hand over patient information without it.”

“You’ll have it.” I take an evidence bag out of my satchel and slide the planner inside. I notice an identical planner in the corner of the desktop underneath a file folder. Looks brand-new and, since we’re only a week into the new year, doesn’t look like there’s much written there, but I take it too.

“Has Dr. Bradley been in since December?”

“We’ve been closed for the holidays until today, but he was here last week doing paperwork. He brought that fern in.” She walks over to the window, looks at the plant like she can’t figure out what to do with it. “Molly told him he ought to have a few plants in the office.”

“Uh huh.”

I hunt around a little more while Dr. Westmore looks on, but I don’t see anything else of note. I take one more turn around the room, pause in front of a framed picture of the Bradleys taken in front of the Louvre. “He and the Mrs. were happy?”

“Over the moon. He adored Molly.”

“What’s Dr. Bradley got going on in his home office?”