Shooting to her feet, she stormed out of the office, made it halfway up the hall where she stopped short, swung the big bag as if working up momentum to use it as a battering ram.

I had a clear view, stayed in my chair.

The bag grew still. Her shoulders heaved. She returned, stood in the doorway, leaning against the jamb for support.

“My God,” she said. “The things that come out of your mouth.”

Then she returned to the couch.

CHAPTER
49

Another head shake. More hair fell. A woman coming apart strand by strand. She hugged herself. Shuddered. Ten fingers began working like Rubinstein on Rachmaninoff.

I said, “If you’re feeling cooped up, we can talk outside.”

“How did you know I felt that?”

Because you look like a caged animal.

I said, “Lucky guess.”

I told Blanche to stay in the office, paid her with a Milk-Bone. Prema Moon said, “She can come with us.”

“She needs to nap.” The real reason: Time to minimize distraction. And comfort.

I walked her through the house, out through the kitchen and down the rear steps to the garden, stopping by the pond’s rock rim. The waterfall burbled. The sky was clear.

“Very mellow,” she said. “To encourage confession?”

“I’m not a priest.”

“Isn’t this the new religion?”

“God doesn’t talk to me.”

“Only Freud does, huh?”

“Haven’t heard from him in a while, either.” I sat down on the teak bench that faces the water. The fish swarmed.

Prema Moon said, “What are they, Japanese koi? Pretty.”

She took in the garden. Robin’s studio, softened by trees and shrubs. A whine cut through the waterfall. The band saw.

“What’s that noise?”

“The woman I live with builds musical instruments.”

“She’s going to come out here and see me?”

“No.”

“You’ve trained her to stay inside when a patient’s here?”

“Once she’s in there, it’s for hours.”

“What if she does come out?”

“She’ll go right back in.”

“What’s her name?”

I shook my head.

“Sorry,” she said. “I’m just … I’m jumping out of my skin, this is … I don’t know what it is. Don’t know what to do.”

I uncapped the canister of fish food, scooped a handful of pellets, tossed.

She watched the koi eat. Said, “Well, yummy for them.”

Not a word out of her for a long time. When that didn’t look as if it was going to change, I said, “Tell me what frightens you.”

“Why should I?”

“You’re here.”

She reached for the koi food. “May I?” Tweezing again, she threw in one pellet at a time. “I like the silver one. Elegant.”

I said, “Okay, I’ll start. People who work for you seem to die unnaturally.”