Never Lie (34)

“You can arm or disarm your security system once you punch in the code,” he explains. “This control panel will even allow you to set up a schedule to disarm it at certain times of day if that’s what you want.”

“What about the camera?”

“I mounted it outside your front door. I just need to link the feed to your phone.” He holds out his hand. “If you give me your phone, I’ll set it all up for you.”

I left my phone back in my office, so I lead him over there. As soon as he gets my phone in his hands, he quickly installs the app I need and links it to the camera. When he hands it back to me, I can see the image on the screen of the area outside my front door.

“This is incredible,” I breathe. “Thank you so much.”

But Luke doesn’t answer me. He’s staring straight ahead, at the bookcase in my office. His eyes are locked on a gap between two books. “What’s that?”

In all my years of interviewing patients in this office, he is the first person to notice the tape recorder concealed between those two hardcover books. I feel a surge of annoyance mingled with respect. “It’s a tape recorder.”

“A tape recorder?”

“I record my patient interviews.”

Luke’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “All of them?”

“Yes.” I shrug like it’s no big deal. In New York, it’s not illegal to record a conversation that you are a part of, even if the other person is not aware of it. “I don’t do anything with the recordings besides remind myself of the last visit if I need to. I use them in place of notes. I don’t have an electronic medical record in my home.”

I watch Luke’s expression. I brace myself for him to tell me what I’m doing is terribly wrong or threaten to inform my patients about this breach of confidentiality. But when he finally speaks, what he says shocks me. “You shouldn’t use tapes. You should record them digitally.”

“Digitally?”

“Yeah.” He shakes his head. “I mean, you must have thousands of these tapes. Wouldn’t it be better if you saved everything onto your computer?”

“I like tapes.”

“Tapes? Come on. Did I step into a time machine and get magically transported to the eighties?”

The dopey grin on his face makes me smile back. When I first met Luke at the clinic, I found him mildly annoying, even though he was good at what he did. But he’s growing on me.

“Tapes are an excellent recording device,” I say. “And I’d be happy to offer a demonstration.”

“A demonstration?”

“The Dr. Adrienne Hale experience.” I wink at him. “You take a seat on the couch and I’ll show you what I do.”

His smile falters as he glances behind him at my leather sofa. “On the couch?”

“Yes. It will be fun.”

“Fun?”

“Sure. Why not?”

He runs a hand along the arm of the sofa. “The Dr. Adrienne Hale experience, huh?”

“I should tell you, there are many people who pay top dollar for this.”

“Oh, I’ll bet.” He looks down at the sofa again. He’s reluctant to do this, but he also doesn’t want to say no. He just spent his entire evening here. Even though he’s a nice guy, he surely has an ulterior motive. “Fine. Let’s do it. Give me the Dr. Adrienne Hale experience.”





Chapter 24


Transcript of Recording



This is my first session with LS, a thirty….?



“Thirty-six.”

“A thirty-six-year-old man who appears normal, but is freakishly good with electronics and computers, and also apparently carries a hammer around in the back of his trunk. Suspicious?”

“Hey, you should be grateful I had that hammer.”

“So, Luke, why don’t you tell me a little about yourself?”

“Like what?”

“Whatever you think is important.”

“Well. I have a master’s in computer science. I’ve been working in information technology for… well, since I got my master’s. I’ve been helping medical facilities set up their EMR for the last five years.”

“Do you enjoy the work?”

“Sure. I mean, it’s a job. But it could be worse.”

“Are you married, Luke?”

“You know I’m not.”

“Do I?”

“Well, I’m not wearing a ring.”

“Plenty of married men don’t wear wedding bands.”

“Fine. But I’m not married.”

“Have you ever been married?”

“Um…”

“Luke?”

“Yes. I have.”

“I see. And how did that end?”

“She died.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s… it’s fine. It was a long time ago.”

“Do you want to talk about—”

“No, I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s move on, okay?”

“Fair enough. But I just think—”

“This was a bad idea. Shut the tape recorder off.”