The Door to December

patterns of water from the glass onto the walls, which made the room seem as amorphous and semitransparent as a mirage.
     'I want to know a lot more about your husband,' Haldane said, pacing.
     'Like what?'
     'Like why you decided to divorce him.'
     'Is that relevant?'
     'Could be.'
     'How?'
     'For one thing, if there was another woman involved, then maybe she can tell us more about what he was doing here. Maybe she can even tell us who killed him.'
     'There was no other woman.'
     'Then why did you decide to divorce him?'
     'It was just that ... I no longer loved him.'
     'But you had loved him once.'
     'Yes. But he wasn't the man I married.'
     'How had he changed?'
     She sighed. 'He didn't. He was never the man I married. I only thought he was. Later, as time went by, I realized how thoroughly I'd misunderstood him, right from the start.'
     Haldane stopped pacing, leaned against a counter, crossing his arms on his chest, still holding the log book. 'Just how had you misunderstood him?'
     'Well ... first, you have to understand something about me. In high school and college, I was never a particularly popular girl. Never had any dates.'
     'I find that difficult to believe.'
     She blushed. She wished she could control it, but couldn't. 'It's true. I was crushingly shy. Avoided boys. Avoided everyone. Never had any close girlfriends, either.'
     'Didn't anyone tell you about the right mouthwash and dandruff shampoo?'
     She smiled at his attempt to put her at ease, but she was never comfortable talking about herself. 'I didn't want anyone to get to know me because I figured they'd dislike me, and I couldn't stand rejection.'
     'Why should they dislike you?'
     'Oh ... because I wouldn't be witty enough or bright enough or pretty enough to suit them.'
     'Well, I can't say whether or not you're witty, but then David Letterman would have trouble coming up with one-liners in this place. But you're clearly intelligent. After all, you earned a doctorate. And I don't see how you could look in a mirror and think you were anything less than beautiful.'
     She glanced up from the crumb-carpeted table. The lieutenant's gaze was direct, engaging, warm, though neither bold nor suggestive. His attitude was merely that of a policeman, making an observation, stating a fact. Yet, under that surface professionalism, deep down, she sensed that he was attracted to her. His interest made her uneasy.
     Self-conscious, studying the vague silvery tracks of rain on the black window, she said' 'I had a terrible inferiority complex back then.'
     'Why?'
     'My parents.'
     'Isn't it always?'
     'No. Not always. But in my case ... mainly my mother.'
     'What were your folks like?'
     'They have nothing to do with this case,' she said. 'They're both gone now, anyway.'
     'Passed away?'
     'Yes.'
     'I'm sorry.'
     'No need to be. I'm not.'
     'I see.'
     That was a harsh thing for her to have said. She was surprised to realize that she didn't want him to think badly of her. On the other hand, she was not prepared to tell him about her parents and the loveless childhood she had endured.
     'But about Dylan ...,' she began, and then wasn't sure where she had left off.
     Haldane said, 'You were telling me why you misjudged him right from the start.
     'See, I was so good at fending people off, so good at alienating everyone and keeping myself snug in my shell, that no one ever got close to me. Especially not boys ... or men. I knew how to turn them off fast. Until Dylan. He wouldn't give up. He kept asking me for dates. No matter how often I rejected him, he came back. My shyness didn't deter him. Rudeness, indifference, cold rejection — nothing would stop him. He pursued me. No one had ever pursued me before. Not like Dylan. He was relentless. Obsessed. But not frightening in any way, not that kind of obsession. It was corny, the way he tried to impress me, the things he did. I knew it was corny at the time, but it was effective just the same. He sent flowers, more flowers, candy, more flowers, even a huge teddy bear.'
     'A teddy bear for a young woman working on her doctorate?' Haldane said.
     'I told you it was corny. He wrote poetry