Rachel Alexander 09 - Without a Word

early to catch up on paperwork. I listened carefully but didn’t hear a sound.
    “He was doing the responsible thing,” she whispered. “How so?” I whispered back, steeling myself for whatever was to come. Whatever it was, it was going to be amusing, to say the least, the way people could rationalize any kind of behavior, transforming a self-interested sinner into a self-sacrificing saint.
    “He didn’t want to destroy his family and he wouldn’t abandon her, Celia, or JoAnn either.” She shrugged. “What choice did he have?”
    “You mean he had to do the off-the-books consulting work?”
    “Exactly.” She sat back, her arms on her lap now, glancing at the clock on the wall across from us. “I have so much—”
    I nodded. “So what was the name of the company he consulted with? And when did he do this, after work, early mornings, between hospital rounds and office hours?”
    She was shaking her head. “I’m not at liberty to discuss this with you and you know that.”
    “And the money, you say he was paid in cash? So where did he keep it, here in the office?” And then it occurred to me, if he did, couldn’t someone have come in to take it, killing him in the process?
    She pursed her lips, shook her head. “I wasn’t privy to any of this. I wasn’t involved in his private life.”
    “Except for calls from Celia, trying to find out where he was.”
    “Sometimes.”
    “Even at home.”
    “Sometimes.”
    “You’re a very devoted person, Louise.” She blinked when I said her name. “The doctor was a lucky man to have you working for him.”
    She bent her head, looking at her hands, which were clutching her thighs.
    “You can keep a secret, too, can’t you?”
    “It’s part of. . .“
    I interrupted her. “Even from the police.”
    “Well, I. . .“
    “They don’t know any of this, do they? They don’t know there’s another family. They don’t know why you really came back that night. They don’t know about the money. It doesn’t show up anywhere, does it?”
    She shook her head. “I guess he gave it right to her, to Celia.”
    “Or perhaps there was a safe-deposit box?”
    “I wouldn’t know.” Looking at the clock again.
    “Or an office safe? Is there a safe here, Louise, one of those little wall ones hidden behind a painting, a place to stow cash until it was needed?”
    “Patients will start arriving at any moment,” she said, standing now. “You’ll have to go. Please ."
    I stood, too, and so did Dashiell. He left the waiting room and headed for the door, his tail wagging. His turn at last. I walked to the door. When I looked back, she was standing near her desk, waiting for me to leave.
    “None of this has anything to do with your case,” she said. “None of this clears Madison or helps locate her mother. And that’s what you want, isn’t it?”
    I turned and left without giving her an answer, the sound of her voice staying with me, stabbing me, as I headed to the dog run with Dashiell.

CHAPTER 16

    Madison, wearing Sally’s jean jacket, a backpack that looked bigger than she did hanging precariously down her back and the plastic purse with Emil/Emily in it swinging gently from her right hand, headed through the tunnel without seeming to notice me and without any gesture of good-bye to her father. Leon, bags under his eyes, his jacket buttoned a button off so that the ends didn’t match, stood outside the gate as if waiting for me to tell him what to do next. I reached out and touched his arm.
    “We’ll be fine,” I said, wishing I could believe it myself. Leon nodded, reaching into his pocket, pulling out a mess of bills. “For whatever,” he said, holding the money toward me, “dinner, a movie.” He shrugged. “I don’t know what you plan to do with her.”
    “Neither do I,” I told him, pushing away the hand with the money. “I’ll bill you,” I told him, smiling, hoping he would know I was kidding.
    Leon was still standing there. I turned around to see where Madison had gone and saw the rear half of my dog, his tail beating from side to side. Was he checking out Emil/Emily? Or was it Madison he was interested in?
    “I might take her shopping,” I said, facing her worried father again. “If that’s okay with you?”
    “Shopping?”
    “I think she might need a starter bra,” I said. “Maybe a haircut, if she’s willing.”
    “Sally used to cut her hair,” he said. He reached for his head, forgetting he had a baseball cap on.