A Noise Downstairs(35)

“Leave.”

He raised his palms in a gesture of surrender but did not get out of the chair. “I came here to tell you I forgive you.”

Anna blinked. “You what?”

“Forgive you. For thinking I had something to do with that woman and that dead dog, and with whatever happened here a couple of days ago that made you send the police to see me. I know you probably violated some kind of doctor-patient privilege when you did that, but I’m willing to overlook it.”

“I mean it, Gavin. You need to leave.”

“Because, you see, I think maybe I deserved that. When you’ve done the kinds of things I’ve done, you’ve got no one to blame but yourself when you find yourself facing false accusations. You’ve set yourself up. I appreciate that now.”

“I’m calling the police.”

Gavin’s look of innocence morphed into one of hurt. “Does this mean you’re not going to be counseling me anymore?”

“You could have gotten my father killed.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Well, yes, I do, because the police told me. It must have been awful, a SWAT team coming into the house like that.”

“You’re sick, Gavin. I hope someone can help you, but it’s not going to be me. Honestly, I don’t know that anyone can.”

He stood. “If you want to know what I think, I think it’s some kind of a copycat. Someone who knows I’m seeing you and wants to frame me. You might want to look at your other patients and see who might be capable of something like that.”

Anna strode into the room, past Gavin, and went behind her desk. She reached for the phone. Before she could lift the receiver, Gavin put his hand atop hers, pinning it there.

She looked into his smiling face.

He said, “Did you know, when you sleep, you don’t snore, but when you exhale, your lips do this adorable little dance?”

Anna felt a chill run the length of her body. She wanted to scream but couldn’t find her voice.

Gavin released her hand and grinned. “Just kidding.” He walked to the door but turned one last time before leaving. “Good thing you don’t have any pets,” he said.

Anna slowly dropped into her chair and gripped the arms to stop her hands from shaking.





Twenty

The first thing Paul did when he got up was head straight to his office. Charlotte was still under the covers when he slipped out of bed and trotted barefoot down to the kitchen in his boxers.

He hadn’t heard any more typing noises in the night, but it was possible, he told himself, that he’d slept through them. If the keys of the typewriter had—somehow—been touched in the remaining hours of the night, the evidence would be on that sheet of paper he had rolled into it.

This is crazy, Paul told himself. Why am I even doing this?

He swallowed and felt his heart flutter as he slowly pushed open his office door.

The Underwood sat there.

The page was blank.

Paul put a hand on the jamb for support and took a breath. He didn’t know whether to feel relieved, or disappointed.

“I really am losing it,” he whispered.

In the light of day, the events of the night seemed clearer. As much as he had fought Charlotte’s conclusion that he’d been dreaming, what other possible explanation was there?

Think about it. Does it make any sense at all that someone would sneak into your house in the dead of night to tap on the keys of an old typewriter?

Paul knew the answer.

He’d mention it today at his session with Dr. White. He’d ask some questions. Could someone be half-awake and half-asleep at the same time? When he thought he was awake and hearing chit chit chit was it possible he was not fully conscious? Could it be a kind of sleepwalking?

That, he had to admit, made more sense than anything else.

He went back up to the bedroom and slid under the covers as Charlotte was waking.

“Hey,” she said groggily. She blinked a couple of times, pulled herself up into a sitting position and said, “How are you doing?”

“Good,” he said, putting a hand on her arm. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“About what?”

“How I acted last night. I was short with you, and you were only trying to help.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “Don’t worry about it.”

When he told her what he was going to ask Dr. White, Charlotte nodded with enthusiasm. “That could explain everything,” she said.

Paul looked down as his face flushed with embarrassment. “I went down and checked.”

“Checked?”

“To see if anything had been typed onto that page.”

“And?”

He looked up. “I think you know the answer.”

_________________

PAUL FELT OPTIMISTIC ON THE WAY TO HIS SESSION. HE COULDN’T wait to tell Anna White that he not only had made a good start on his writing project, but also had come up with a theory about the noises in the night.

He’d decided to pop into Staples for some printer cartridges and the Barnes & Noble for a quick look at new fiction releases first. He was heading south on River Street when he saw the Volvo.

It pulled out in front of him from Darina Place, just ahead of the underpass below the railroad tracks. The driver either didn’t see Paul, or didn’t care. Paul had to hit the brakes to avoid broadsiding the vehicle.