Have You Seen Me?(72)

She does the pregnant pause thing, studying me but not speaking, as if encouraging me to fill the void.

“I know what you’re thinking,” I say. “That maybe she simply wanted to network or pick his brain about her career. But Hugh knows I’m not the superjealous type, and if he’d told me he’d run into her and they met for a drink so he could help with her job search, I’d be fine with that, I really would. But the fact that he said they weren’t in contact means something, I’m sure.”

“This must be very distressing for you, Ally.”

It feels good to hear her say those words, to acknowledge what I’m experiencing. Roger’s in the loop now, and I know he’s in my corner, but I can’t lay it all on him.

“I think it’s even worse because I never saw it coming,” I say. “I knew there was a strain in our relationship because of the baby discussions, but I thought we could work it out. And I certainly never imagined Hugh cheating on me.”

Erling nods slightly. Does she relate on a personal level? Her house in Larchmont seems spacious, and though she appears to be single now, my guess is that she once shared the home with a partner. Was she married? Did the relationship end badly?

“How does staying at your brother’s help you address the issue?”

I know what she’s thinking now, too, that I’m running away from the problem rather than facing it head-on.

“It doesn’t help, but I can’t be around Hugh right now. It’s impossible for me to act normal in front of him.”

“What do you think the harm would be if you raised the issue with him?”

“He’ll deny there’s anything going on, just like he lied about really knowing her. He might even make the issue about me—claim it’s related to my current mental state. And there’s another reason I don’t want to be in New York. Something really bad happened the other day.”

“And what is that, Ally?”

I tell her about Mulroney’s murder, and the chance that his death is connected to the investigation he was doing on my behalf.

“That was my cover story for leaving first thing this morning,” I add. “I told Hugh I wanted to be someplace safer, and that part is true. I feel really scared in the city right now.”

“Scared because . . . ?”

I look off for a second, twisting my hands. “What if when I was missing I saw something I shouldn’t have? And the person who killed Mulroney wants to kill me, too.”

“If this man had an active business as a private detective, I’m sure there were other cases he was working on that might have been inherently dangerous. It’s possible that his death wasn’t even related to his work. I can see why this may be worrying you, but it feels like a stretch to imagine that his death is connected to you or that your life could be in danger.”

“But what about me being shoved into the street?”

“Shoved into the street? This is the first I’m hearing of this, Ally.”

“Oh gee, that’s right, it happened since I saw you last. Two nights ago, someone pushed me into the street at an intersection, and I’m almost positive it was deliberate. And I had this feeling before then that I was being watched. I just sense that there’s someone after me and it has to be related to the missing days. If only I could remember where I was. . . . The other night, I had this tiny flash of a memory, but it was so elusive, and in a split second it was gone.”

“Can you describe it to me?”

“My hands were wet with blood. And slippery. And I was dabbing at them with tissues. But that’s all.” And then I voice the fear I haven’t been able to express to anyone besides myself. “God, what if I’m complicit? What if I hurt someone? I can’t stand . . .”

“What triggered the memory, do you think, Ally?

“I think—I think it might be because it was raining, and I was wearing the same trench coat I wore when I was gone, and the sleeve was damp from the rain, like it was the day I showed up at Greenbacks. Remember how the same thing happened at the hospital, when I was looking at the white sheet . . . ? Maybe—maybe there are ways to spark more memories. Are there?”

I start gasping for air, like I did at the last session. It feels as if the oxygen is being squeezed from the room.

“Can you take a deep breath, Ally, and exhale through your mouth? Good. Two more. That’s better. Now, can you describe your state of mind to me?”

“Frantic, I guess. I was doing so much better after I hired Kurt Mulroney—I felt in charge of my life again—but now everything feels out of control.”

“Have you reported the incident in the street to the police?”

“No, there didn’t seem to be any way they could figure out what happened. But this morning on my Uber ride to New Jersey, I received a call from a police detective in White Plains, near where Kurt was killed. I told him about the shove. He didn’t say much, but I had the feeling he was interested, that maybe the murder could be connected to my case.”

“Ally, it’s good you were helpful to the police, and I know you want answers, but I’m seriously concerned that if you keep pushing yourself, you’ll dissociate again. What’s the best way for me to help you understand that you need to focus on your health and well-being right now?”