“Even better, my dear,” he said, zipping his trousers back up.

He cleaned her feet off and with great care slid her shoes on again, careful as Prince Charming to Cinderella.

Nora gave the judge a hug goodbye after he’d given her his usual fee plus a hundred-dollar tip. She almost felt guilty charging him for the sessions. She knew women who paid good money to get a decent foot massage.

Down in the kitchen, Nora found Lance sitting at Mrs. B.’s kitchen table with a glass of milk in front of him and plate of cookies.

“How are they?” Mrs. B asked as she wiped her hands on a towel.

“Perfect.” Lance took a bite from one of the cookies. “I love them with nuts.”

“So do I, but my grandchildren hate the nuts. I have to make one batch for the judge and me, and another batch for the kids.”

“My daughter hates nuts in anything, too. Nuts and raisins, they might as well be poison to her the way she acts when you try to get her to eat them.”

“You have a daughter?” Nora asked, coming into the kitchen. For some reason the idea that Lance had children never occurred to her.

“I do,” he said, and said nothing else. “Are you ready?”

“My next appointment’s about half an hour away. We should head out.”

“Take cookies,” Mrs. B. said. “Lord knows we don’t need to eat all of them.”

No one had to tell Nora twice to take cookies with her. With a brown bag full of chocolate chip cookies, they left the judge’s house and returned to her car.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a kid?” Nora asked once they were back in her car.

“Does it matter?”

“I think it matters.”

“Well, let’s see. We talked for all of five minutes last night before going to your dungeon and none of that conversation included you saying, ‘By the way, do you have any children?’”

“Fine. By the way, do you have any children?” she asked as she headed toward East 76th Street.

“I do. One daughter, age six.”

“What’s her name?”

“Maya.”

“Where is she?”

“With her mother.”

“Why isn’t she with you?”

“Because I’m working.”

“You’re not going to give me anything here, are you? I’m fully capable and willing to torture you to get the answers I want. You realize that, yes?”

“The situation with my ex-wife and my daughter is...let’s call it my sore spot. A sore spot and a long story.”

Nora growled in frustration. Usually only Søren could inspire such aggravation on her part. She started to open her mouth to give him some verbal abuse, but felt something vibrating in her jacket pocket. Pulling out her phone, she handed it to Lance.

“Answer that for me. It’s the boss.”

Lance answered and had a brief conversation, which Nora heard only one side of. A “Yes” followed by a clipped “Understood.”

He handed the phone back to her and sighed.