A Noise Downstairs(29)

“Yeah. Who am I kidding.”

Frank rubbed Anna’s arm affectionately. “Sorry if I woke you up.”

“Don’t worry about it, Dad.” It struck her that he seemed very much with it at this moment. “Since we’re both wide awake, let me ask you something.”

“Okay.”

“You were always my go-to guy when I was wondering what to do with my life.”

Frank waited.

“I wonder if I’m in a rut,” Anna said. She then added quickly, “And not because of you. This has nothing to do with you. I’m talking about my work. It’s interesting, and I like it, but there are times when I need to get out of my comfort zone.”

Frank nodded.

“I’ve got this one patient, doesn’t matter who, but he wants to set up a meeting, in prison, with the man who tried to kill him. And he wants me to go with him.”

Frank looked intrigued. “Wow.”

“Yeah. I’m not sure he’s in the right frame of mind for an encounter like that, but he seems pretty determined, so it might be better if I were with him.”

“I think you should go,” her father said. “Sounds damn interesting.”

“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “I shouldn’t always just play it safe, staying in the office.”

Her father blinked at her several times. She wondered whether she was losing him.

“Isn’t that why you asked me to move in? To feel safer?”

She gave his hand a squeeze. “It was one of the reasons. A good one, too.”

“It made me feel safer, too.” He smiled in a way that seemed almost childlike. “I like that feeling. It’s a warm feeling.”

Anna patted his hand. “I’m gonna have a shower, and then I’ll start the coffee.”

Her father’s brow wrinkled slightly, as though he was considering something.

“What is it?” Anna asked.

“Just wondering if I need to pee again.”

She grinned. “I think only you know for sure.”

He thought one more second, then said, “No, I’m good.”

She looked back at him as she was stepping into the hall, and his eyes had shut. In two seconds he appeared to have fallen back asleep.

The shower could wait, Anna thought.

She returned to her bedroom and crawled back under the covers. It didn’t take her much longer to nod off than it had taken her father.

So she was out cold when the police stormed the house five minutes later.





Sixteen

So what’d you tell her?” Bill asked, sitting on the locker-room bench, lacing up his shoes. “What’d you tell Charlotte?”

Paul shrugged, twirling the squash racket in his hand, waiting for Bill to get ready. “I told her I thought I’d heard someone knocking.”

Bill chortled. “What, like Girl Scouts going door-to-door selling cookies in the middle of the night?”

“Like someone trying to get in.”

Bill shook his head. “Are you sure you’re up to this?”

“I want to get back to doing the things I used to do.”

“Yeah, but this?” Bill held up his own racket. “Doctor gave you the okay?”

“Didn’t ask,” Paul said. “I want to hit the ball, move around. I’m not going to do anything heroic. The ball lands in the corner, I’m not going in after it.”

“So I’ll take it easy on you,” Bill said. “Like always.”

“Fuck you.”

They walked out of the locker room and into the West Haven College athletic facility. They strolled past exercise machines and an indoor track before they got to the squash courts. There were five, all backed with glass walls for the benefit of spectators.

“Does Charlotte know you’re doing this?” Bill asked.

“No.”

“This is a bad idea.”

“I’m telling you, I’m fine.”

Two women were playing in the court they had booked. Bill glanced up at a wall clock. “They’ve still got two minutes. Okay, so Charlotte finds you on your ass on the stairs and you say you heard someone at the door, but there was no one at the door.”

“Isn’t that what I said?”

“Why didn’t you tell her the truth?” Bill asked, his eyes on the two women in the court.

“I had already accused Josh of messing with the typewriter in the middle of the night. What’s Charlotte going to think if I tell her I heard the same thing again?”

“That you’re losing it?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“But you’re telling me what you really heard. Suppose I think you’re losing it?”

“Do you?”

Bill sighed. “I haven’t got any other explanation.” He tapped the edge of his racket on the glass. When the women turned around, he pointed to an imaginary wristwatch. The women ended their game and exited. One of them gave a long smile to Bill as she blotted her neck with a small towel.

“You’re as bad as Hoffman,” Paul said as the woman headed for the locker rooms.

“Hey,” Bill said, “that’s low. He was married. I’m not.”