Every Single Secret(31)

“Okay, fine.” I sighed. “You win.”

“You know, this house was built by a wealthy prospector, who also didn’t have Wi-Fi,” he said. “Or iPads or telephones or streaming . . . whatever. But I imagine he and his family found ways to entertain themselves. What do you suppose they used to do for fun?”

“I don’t know. Taffy pulls and sing-alongs? The occasional episode of cannibalism?”

“Maybe. Maybe.” He laughed. “You know, in our sessions, Heath has shared with me how meeting you changed him. How he is determined to do anything to be the man you need.” He watched me, his eyes keen. And I had to admit, I didn’t hate the rush of warmth I felt.

“He doesn’t need to do anything more. He’s already succeeding.”

“I like you, Daphne. I hope you don’t mind me saying so.”

I didn’t really know how to answer.

“Did Heath tell you the truth about his family? The couple who cared for him after his mother gave him up?”

“He did, some.”

“It was very difficult for him, I expect, opening up about his past. Especially given the fact that you’ve chosen to be more discreet about yours. I imagine you feel some pressure to reciprocate now. Fulfill the social contract. Perhaps tell him about the ranch and what happened to you there.”

I swallowed. “Not necessarily.”

“Heath already feels quite protective of you. I believe he would be entirely sympathetic if you told him about your surrogate father being sent away to prison.”

I shrugged.

“Just a bystander’s opinion, of course.” He scratched his cheek absently. “Unless, that is, you had something to do with the man’s incarceration. In that case, your reticence would make complete sense—if you were in some way responsible.”

His tone was light, but alarm still zipped through me.

“I had nothing to do with it,” I said curtly. “And if anyone really wants to know what happened, it’s just a Google search away. For those of us with access to Wi-Fi.”

“Touché.” He grinned, all friendly dimples and casually wavy hair. I had to admit it was a little disconcerting. He was so much like Mr. Al, and yet, not at all. This man was careful, and he didn’t appear to miss a single detail.

I inhaled deeply. “You know you’re not going to keep cornering me when I’m alone and trick me into spilling my guts for you. So you might as well give it up.”

He sobered. “You think that’s what I’m doing out here? Have you considered that I simply enjoy talking to you?”

“No. But it seems . . . possibly unethical.”

“Psychologists are allowed to converse with people who are not their patients. To have friends.”

“Okay, so let’s converse. Let’s talk about you.”

“Ah, ha. So clever.” I lifted my chin, and he smiled back at me. “What do you want to know?”

“You don’t wear a ring. Are you married?”

He ran his fingers through his hair. “Right to the heart of things, eh? All right. The answer is, no, I’m not married and I never have been. I’ve no children either.”

“That’s interesting. A relationship expert who’s never been married.”

“Marriage isn’t the only kind of relationship. I have been in love, plenty of times.”

“Okay, not going to touch that one.”

He laughed.

“What’s with the monster faces in the fireplaces?” I asked.

“Ah.” He smiled at me. “The fiery fiend. I believe my ancestor Horace Baskens was a bit of an eccentric. Probably be diagnosed paranoid schizophrenic today. Back in the gold-rush days, he made a fortune for himself, but was always afraid of it being stolen by friends, even family. It was why he built his home so far up the mountain—he was terrified of losing his stash. The fiends were the guard dogs of Baskens, watching over every move of the visitors who came to call. Or his family members. He was obsessed, I hear, that his own wife and children were plotting against him.”

“Yikes.”

“When I was a boy, I was terrified of them. Their watchful eyes kept me from a great deal of mischief, as a matter of fact.”

“And provided the inspiration for the cameras?”

“An astute observation,” he said with a smile. “I had begun my practice in Atlanta when my mother passed away and left me the house. I supposed the fiery fiends had not done their job, as all the Baskens money had been frittered away by then. But yes, moving back up here among them probably did spark my imagination. I’ve never thought of it that way.”

“You must have seen some interesting things up here.”

He chuckled. “That I have.”

I forged on, hoping my voice sounded casual. “Do you get many repeat clients? I mean, do some people ever bring one partner, then a different one later?” I swallowed uneasily. I sounded about as subtle as a hammer.

He eyed me. “I take it you’re talking about Heath. You’re asking me if he’s ever brought another woman to Baskens?”

“I’m just curious if he ever called to check out the program . . . for him and someone else? Before me?”

“I’m sorry, Daphne. I’m not free to give out that information. But, if I may . . .”