my mouth as if to speak again, as if there is something I must say. But instead, I reach fast for the glass water pitcher. And once I grab hold of it, I fling it at her head.
She yelps and then screams, as the glass shatters against her skull and the water sprays everywhere.
I propel myself from the couch and rush to the closest door, flinging it open. I’m in the living room now. I can barely see because the curtains are drawn in here, too, but I tear through the room toward the front of the house, banging into pieces of furniture. Behind me I can hear Erling scrambling.
“Stop!” she screams.
I reach the front hallway, see the door to my left, but I can tell Erling’s not far behind me.
Before I take another step, a noise shatters the air, a crack followed by the sound of splintering wood. She’s fired the gun at me.
I can’t reach the door in time. I lower my head and plunge straight ahead into the dining room and scan it desperately. I spot two hammered metal candlesticks on a sideboard, grab one fast in my fist, and shove open the door to the kitchen.
It’s nearly dark in this room, too, the louvered blinds lowered. Holding my breath, I duck behind the door, leaving it open.
“Ally,” Erling calls. She’s in the dining room now, I can tell. “You’re coming unglued again. Let me help you. Where—?”
She’s only inches away now. I raise the candlestick.
As she charges into the room, I bring it down on her head with all the force I can muster. She drops to the floor facedown, the gun in her hand. Blood spreads from the right side of her head, like a flower blooming.
I turn and race back through the dining room, through the foyer, and out the front door.
And then I run, down the middle of the street. Miraculously a car turns the corner and heads this way. I wave my arms frantically, begging for the driver to stop.
33
A noise startles me and I jump a little in my seat. I realize after a beat that it’s only Gabby, turning the key in the lock on her front door. She’s home from work now. It’s probably going to be a while before I stop being skittish.
A couple of seconds later, Gabby saunters into the living room, carrying a couple of Whole Food bags.
“Hey,” she says in greeting. “You doing okay?”
“Much better,” I say from the couch. “I actually worked on my book a little bit today.”
“How was the new therapist?”
“I liked her—and she comes highly recommended by Dr. Agarwal, the shrink who treated me in the ER. Only time will tell if she wants to blow my brains out, too.”
“Very funny.”
“It’s probably a good sign I can laugh about it.”
“Totally. You like salmon, right? I picked up a couple of fillets for dinner. Let me pop them in the oven.”
As she heads into the kitchen, I sink back into the couch in her lovely living room, an enchanting mix of modern and boho decor. I’ve been ensconced here for the past couple of days—since Sunday night. After I’d bolted from Erling’s, I managed to flag down the car I saw turning onto her street and convince the driver to take me to the local police station. On the way, I’d called Jay Williams, who drove to Westchester immediately.
As I told my story in the police interview room that evening, shaken and exhausted, I wondered frantically about Erling. Had she taken off? Or would she try to completely spin the story, claiming that I was a deranged patient who had attacked her during a session, forcing her to try to shoot at me in self-defense?
But Williams apparently vouched for me, filling the cops in from his end and encouraging them to speak to the White Plains police about Kurt’s murder. On our drive back into the city, Jay said that the gun Erling pulled was probably the same weapon she’d used to kill Mulroney, and the police would figure that out soon enough. Plus, when they searched her house, they would surely find traces of blood and DNA from the former patient and lover who became her victim.
It got better. While we were on the highway, Williams heard through a contact in the Westchester police force that Erling had been apprehended.
As shaken as the experience left me, I feel oddly okay now. Mentally stable. Fairly in control again. I haven’t managed