“Then why are your hands shaking?”
She folded her arms across her chest. “Too much coffee.”
“They were shaking the other day, too. So badly, you almost knocked over your bottle of water.”
She didn’t comment and Micki went on. “You’re afraid of her, aren’t you?”
“No. That’s crazy.”
“Is it?”
“I have to go.”
“Do you know Bitty Vanderlund or Cherry Chablis?”
“I know who they are. They came in often.”
“How often?”
“It used to be once a week. Recently, it was more.”
“What changed that they were coming in more?”
“I don’t know. That’s none of my business.”
“Let me rephrase: had anything changed in their demeanors?”
She hesitated. Wet her lips. “They seemed more…anxious.”
“When they came in?”
Pam nodded.
“What about after their sessions?”
“Better. I don’t know, calm. Sort of refreshed.”
“That’s one of the good side effects of being hypnotized, isn’t it?”
“I’ve got to go. My kids are waiting.” She made a move to climb into the vehicle.
Micki laid a hand on her arm, stopping her. “Why are you afraid, Pam? Tell me, I can help—”
She jerked her arm away. “I need this job, Detective. Please leave me alone.”
She slid into her car, slammed the door, and started the engine. Micki tapped on the window, held up a business card.
Pam cracked the window. “What?”
Micki slid the card through. “Take this. My numbers are on it, just in case.”
“Of what?”
“You tell me, Pam.”
Micki looked her dead in the eyes. She thought she saw desperation in the other woman’s gaze. She hoped she was wrong. She hoped Pam didn’t take the card.
But she did. Snatched it from Micki’s fingers and tossed it into her purse.
Micki watched her drive off and wondered if she had made the right decision.
Chapter Fifteen
9:25 P.M.
The next morning, Renee Blackwood called before Micki had finished her second cup of coffee. She had wondered if her poking and prodding would cause a reaction. According to her caller I.D., it had.
A rush of adrenalin shot through her veins; Micki worked to get a handle on it as she answered. “Good morning, Dr. Blackwood. What can I do for you this morning?”
“You can tell me what the fuck you were doing at my office last night.”
The woman’s crude language took her aback. “Excuse me?”
“I’ll tell you what you were doing. Bullying my employee. Trying to intimidate her.”
“If that’s what she told you, let me assure you that wasn’t—”
“Don’t bother to deny it, Detective. This borders on harassment.”
“Hardly. A few simple questions—”
“What do you hold most dear, Detective Dare?”
Gooseflesh raced up her arms. “What did you say?”
“How would you feel if someone was messing with the one thing, the one person, you couldn’t live without?”
Hank. His image popped into her head. The soothing sound of his voice.
Micki stiffened. “Are you threatening me, Dr. Blackwood?”
“How do you define a threat?”
Her own question from the other day, turned back on her. The shrink was toying with her.
Trying to, Micki amended. If Blackwood thought Michaela Dare was going to play mouse to her cat, she was in for a big disappointment. “Threatening a sworn officer is a chargeable offense.”
She laughed, the sound silky. “Not a threat. A simple, rhetorical question.”
“You had better hope that’s all it was.” She paused to let her words, their meaning, sink in, then went on. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Dr. Blackwood?”
“Don’t bother me or my employee again.”
Blackwood hung up, leaving an unspoken “Or else” hanging in the dead air.
“What do you hold most dear?”
Not what. Who.
Hank.
Suddenly, Micki was completely cold with fear. She dialed Hank. It rang once, then again and again.
No answer.
She redialed. Pick up, Hank. Pick up.
He didn’t.
He was working on the Nova, Micki told herself, fighting panic. He’d left his phone in the house. Or was visiting with a neighbor.
None of those calmed her. The called rolled over to voicemail.
Instead of leaving a message, she hung up and dialed a third time. And once again listened to the other device ring; once again, hung up without leaving a message. Grabbing her coat, she redialed and ran for the stairs.
He answered just as she hit the lobby door. “Michaela?”
“Hank! Thank God!” She stopped and sagged against the doorframe. “You’re okay?”
“Except for almost breaking my fool neck trying to find this stupid device, I am.” He paused. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
She knew him well enough to know he was frowning. Concerned. How could she explain this stupidity? “I just had this feeling something was wrong,” she said. “When you didn’t answer, I was sure of it.”
“I was under the Nova,” he said. “Covered in grease.”