I excused myself and went through the outer office and into the kitchen, where I leaned against the counter and tried to catch my breath. I'd been faking composure since the moment she'd announced herself. This was my aunt, my mother's sister. I was acquainted with Tasha and Liza, the oldest and youngest of Susanna's three daughters. The third girl, Pam, I'd heard about but never met. My introduction to the family had been thoroughly disconcerting as I'd known nothing of their existence. A fluke in an investigation three years previously had I turned them up like a nest of spiders in the pocket of an old overcoat.

In the absence of my parents and Aunt Gin, Susanna had to be one of my closest living relatives.

I patted myself on the chest. This was so bizarre. I don't remember my mother and I've never had a concrete image of her. Even so, I sensed the kinship. All the Kinsey women bore a strong resemblance to one another, at least from what I'd heard. I certainly looked like Tasha, and she'd told me that she and her sister Pam looked enough alike to be mistaken for twins. I looked much less like Liza, but even there, no one could deny the similarities.

I picked up the coffeepot and filled it with water, which I poured into the reservoir of the machine. Filter paper, coffee can. I couldn't see my hands shake, but the counter near the coffeemaker became gritty with grounds. I grabbed a sponge, dampened it, and wiped the surface clean. I set the pot in the machine and flipped the button to ON. I didn't trust myself to talk to her, but I couldn't hang out here until the coffee was done. I took a couple of mugs from the cabinet and set them on the counter. If I'd had brandy on the premises, I'd have downed a slug right then.

I walked back to my office, trying to remember what "normal" felt like so I could imitate the state. "It'll be ready in a minute. Hope you didn't have to wait for me long. I was tied up on business."

She smiled, watching me take my seat across the desk from her. "Don't worry about that. I'm always capable of amusing myself." She was pretty; a straight nose, only the slightest touch of makeup to smooth out the palette of her complexion. I could see sun damage or faded freckles and a series of fine lines etched around her eyes and mouth. The red suit was becoming, the jacket set off by the white shell underneath. I could understand where Tasha had developed her taste in clothes.