Reunion at Red Paint Bay - By George Harrar Page 0,55

really felt.

“Now we can never tell,” Davey said. “Ever.”

He heard her calling his name from the front door, then the pounding of her shoes as she ran up the stairs. He always found the heaviness of her step too insistent, unable to be ignored. He had hoped to be ready for her, to know what he was going to say, but here he was coming out of the bathroom with just shorts on, toweling off his head, no clue whether to tell the truth or lie. Either one had its dangers.

“Simon, are you okay?”

“Sure,” he said brightly, leaning forward for their usual kiss. “Why?”

She looked at him with a disconcerted expression, thrown off by his nonchalance, or something else. “Did you just take a shower?”

“I did.”

“You always take your shower in the morning before work.”

He tossed the towel into the clothes hamper in the hallway. “You’ll have to amend your assumptions about me,” he said, with a little teasing in his voice, “because as you can see, today I showered after work.”

She reached into the hamper, pulled out the towel, and took it to the bathroom. He could see her draping it over the shower rod. That was a good sign, her caring about a wet towel. She ran water and splashed it on her face, then stared at herself in the mirror. He turned away, into their bedroom.

She came in moments later and sat on the edge of the bed. “You scared me with your call,” she said. “I thought something happened to you or Davey or … I don’t know.” She pulled off her shoes. “Where is he?”

“Out back,” Simon said. “I saw him when I came in. He’s fine. We’re both fine.”

“You hung up so fast, and when I called back I got your message.”

“Yeah, like I told you, it was bad reception.” He opened a dresser drawer and pulled out a black T-shirt.

“I had a scare today at the office,” she said.

He pulled the shirt over his head, and it shrouded his eyes and ears, the world disappeared from his perception just for a moment. Then he picked up his hairbrush. In the dresser mirror he could see her behind him, watching as if there was some deep significance to his every move. He wondered how a man brushing his hair would look an hour after killing someone. What would give him away? “What kind of scare?” he said and set the brush on his bureau.

“The new patient I told you about, he wouldn’t let me leave my office.”

Simon felt a shiver of fear sweep over him, the same as he’d felt on the dock. Amy, trapped in her office by an insane man. She could have been assaulted or killed, and he would have been powerless to stop it. In fact he would have been the cause, bringing this lunatic upon them. He went to her, bent over her on the bed, surrounded her in his arms. She seemed smaller to him, some of the life let out of her, not the Amy he was used to. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I wish I could have done something.”

She made a slight wriggling motion, and he let her break free. “What could you have done?”

“I don’t know. I just always think I should protect you.” He looked out of the window and saw the tree house, wedged in the branching arms of the white pine, with the rope ladder dangling to the ground. The place where Davey took refuge when the stranger lingered at the front door.

“He never actually touched me,” Amy said, “he just wouldn’t get out of my way.”

This was a usable fact—Paul holding her against her will, with who knows what intent? He could incorporate this into his story line, if one were ever needed … He said he had just been with my wife in her office and implied he had done something to her … No, he didn’t say exactly what. I imagined the worst.

“So,” Amy said, “I called the police.”

Simon turned around faster than he should have. He would have to control his reactions better, not betray what was going through his mind. “Did you have to get them involved?”

“He said you wouldn’t want me to.”

“What?”

“My patient, Paul, he said you wouldn’t like it if I called the police and he told his story to them.”

His story—what would that be exactly? “I didn’t say I didn’t like you calling the police. I just asked if it was necessary.”

“He didn’t talk