InSight

And make sure the back door is secured when you come in.”
    “Sure. Come on, Daisy, Bertie’s gonna take you out.”
    Daisy padded to the door, her excitement audible. When she returned, she stuck her head under Abby’s hand, demanding attention. Golden retrievers were affectionate and eager to please, but Daisy took her guide responsibilities seriously. Abby would be lost without her.
    After thanking Bertie and letting her out, Abby double-locked the door, hooked the safety chain, and returned to her office. Current patients’ information was on the computer and on audio. When a patient completed counseling, she converted the text, using Braille translation software, then printed it onto special one-hundred-pound paper on a Braille embosser. She pulled up records going back five years. The files were kept in an unlocked cabinet. No one with access could read the code but her. The system worked well.
    A couple of hours buried in the files uncovered no surprises. No one reached the level of likely suspect. Then who? And why?
    The only person who ever wished her harm was dead.
    * * * * *
    A bby referred Luke to Greenville psychologist, Dr. Mack Tollison, a colleague and friend. She made sure Mack understood that the reason she withdrew from Luke’s therapy was personal and didn’t reflect on him as a patient.
    She and Luke agreed to wait until after his evaluation to explore a relationship, for his protection as well as hers. Abby wanted no hint of impropriety. That didn’t stop Luke from emailing or having Pete check on her, which instilled a sense of security into her unraveling life.
    Everything all right? he wrote. Drop a line if you need to talk. I won’t tell.
    You’re making this hard as hell, she answered.
    Still, she looked forward to his messages and felt disappointed when they weren’t there.
    The next month passed without incident. No break-ins, no scary emails or phone calls, nothing suspicious at work. Abby tried to put the menacing situation out of her mind, but it resurfaced without conscious effort.
    Luke kept his word. He made no overtures to see her. The inability to cultivate the relationship somehow made the idea more desirable, much like forbidden fruit. His emails fostered the impression that he’d adjusted to his job, but she read between the lines that marking fingerprints and referencing other data bored him. She credited him for sticking with it but kept her professional opinion to herself.
    After six sessions, Mack informed her that he’d completed Luke’s evaluation. “Just letting you know,” he said. She didn’t ask any questions. He didn’t offer the information.
    Luke showed up at her office a few days later, unannounced. Cleo showed him in.
    “This is a surprise,” Abby said, pleased to hear Luke’s voice.
    “So was my evaluation.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “As if you didn’t know. All you shrinks stick together.”
    Abby stiffened at the acid bite to Luke’s tone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. What did Dr. Tollison say in his evaluation?”
    “He said I’m through.”
    “Through? How?”
    “Some damn psychobabble about feeling diminished and angry.”
    “Aren’t you?”
    “Damn right. I’m about to lose my job.”
    Abby didn’t know what to say and questioned whether she wouldn’t have come to the same conclusion had she completed his counseling. “I’m sorry, Luke.”
    “Would you have agreed?”
    She hesitated. “I…I don’t know.”
    “Sure you do. You knew the first time we talked.”
    The hairs on Abby’s neck prickled. Luke was forcing her to divulge an evaluation she could only surmise, but she decided to be as honest as possible. “I never formed an opinion, but I told you I thought you had issues you weren’t facing.”
    “So you would have cost me my job too.”
    “Is that what happened?”
    “Not yet. The evaluation is under consideration, but I can see the handwriting on the wall. You saw it, too. Oh, I forgot. You don’t see anything, do you?”
    If she hadn’t been sitting down, she would have collapsed into the chair because her knees went weak and rubbery. Responding to the hurt that must have shown on her face, Luke knelt close and reached for her hand. She jerked it away.
    “God, Abby, I’m sorry. That was inexcusable. I spoke without thinking.”
    His words were a low blow, spoken in momentary anger and frustration, but how they stung. Though Luke’s emotions simmered close to the surface, she