“All these years,” she said. “And it still eats at me—not going after that piece of dirt. Who knows how many others he’s done that to. What I could’ve prevented.”

“It would’ve been his word against yours, and he was in power,” I said. “It wasn’t your fault, then, and it’s not your fault, now.”

“Do you know how many women I’ve treated—how many patients I’ve helped deal with exactly this kind of thing? Not because I pursue those kinds of cases. Not because I’m using my patients to work through my own garbage. Because it’s so damned common. I’ve helped my patients, but then when it comes to my own garbage, I repress. It’s crazy, don’t you think?”

“No,” I said. “It’s human. I’ve preached the virtues of talking it out, but when it comes to my own stuff, I usually go it alone.”

“Do you?”

I nodded.

“And you’re going through something now, aren’t you?”

I stared at her.

“Your eyes are sad,” she said.

“I’m going through a bit of something,” I said.

“Well, then,” she said, “I guess we’re kindred spirits. And I guess we’ll leave it at that.”

She walked me to the waiting room door. “Like I told you the first time, you’re just too good a listener, sir.”

“Occupational hazard.”

“Was it helpful? Telling you that Larner was angry about Willie Burns?”

“Yes,” I said. “Thanks very much. I know it was an ordeal.”

She smiled. “Not an ordeal, an experience. What you’re going through—it has nothing to do with Caroline Cossack or Willie Burns, does it?”

I shook my head.

“Sorry,” she said. “No more prying.” She reached for the doorknob and her shoulder brushed my arm. The contact sent something electrical down my arm. Suddenly I was rock-hard, fighting to keep my breathing even. To keep my hands off her.

She stared at me. No tension around the huge, blue eyes, just softness, sadness, maybe desire.

“It wasn’t an ordeal,” she said. “You said the right thing. Here’s another confession: I was looking forward to seeing you again.”

“Me too,” I said.

I smiled and shrugged, and she did the same. Gracious mimickry.

“You too, but,” she said. “That bit of something, right?”

I nodded.

“Well, maybe in another galaxy, Alex. You’re very sweet. Good luck.”

“Good luck to you, too.”

She held the door open. Kept it open as I walked down the hall.

CHAPTER

24

Milo woke up early the next morning, with the faces of the men at the Sangre de Leon meeting leering in his head. Thinking: Too many ways to take it, not enough of me to go around.