▼
Dr. Lawrence Gates was insufferably arrogant. And Kara thought that was a generous assessment.
Throughout her carefully reasoned plea for information, he had sat and watched her in the way one of his patients in the waiting room might watch the fish in the tank. Her words beaded up and rolled off him without marring his impenetrable surface.
Cold. Aloof. Remote. Oblivious to Kara's anguish at being in the dark about what had led her twin to her death on the sidewalk in front of the Plaza Hotel. He just sat there twirling a key ring on his index finger. Two twirls and then he'd grab it; then he'd do it again. Twirl-twirl-stop. Over and over. It was annoying the hell out of Kara, especially since she wasn't getting anywhere.
"So you see," she said, "I need to explain to myself why Kelly had slutty clothes hidden in her apartment. We had a good upbringing. We were taught to respect ourselves. Who was she hiding those clothes from? Who was she afraid of? The police will want to know too."
"I'm sorry," he said abruptly, as if a bell had rung. "I sympathize with your plight, but it changes nothing. I do not discuss my patients with anyone—not with their parents, not with their spouses, not with their siblings, not even with their identical twins. You'll have to go now."
Kara stared at him in shock. That was it: he had a timer in his head and he had been sitting there waiting for it to go off. Suddenly furious, she went on the offensive.
" 'Go now'?" she said, keeping her voice low with an effort. "Fine. I'll go. But I'll go from here to a lawyer. And I'll be back with a subpoena for your records, and maybe a summons to boot. The police are talking about the possibility that my sister committed suicide. If that turns out to be true, I'm going to want to know why her psychiatrist didn't spot the risk and do something to head it off. You may find yourself trying to explain that at a malpractice trial, Dr. Gates."
Kara saw him stiffen. She'd broken through to him. Finally.
Suddenly she heard a faint noise from the waiting room. Laughter. Jill's. She'd recognize that laugh anywhere.
"Excuse me for a moment," she said to Gates, and went to the door. She pulled it open, stuck her head through, and froze.
Rob was there. Oh, God, and he was with Jill.
Jill looked up and saw her. Her face was flushed from laughing so hard.
"Mom, look!" she said, holding up the Time magazine on which she'd been scribbling. "I'm drawing clothes on this naked Perdue chicken!"
Rob looked up, too. His smile vanished, replaced by frank surprise.
"Kara! What are you doing here?"
"The same as you are, I imagine," she said, masking her anxiety as she stepped out into the room.
She sensed movement behind her and saw Rob's eyes focus over her shoulder.
"Dr. Gates?" he said, reaching into his breast pocket and pulling out a leather folder. He flipped it open to reveal a gold badge. "I'm Detective Harris, NYPD homicide. I'm investigating the death of Miss Kelly Wade and I'd like—"
Gates stepped over to the receptionist's desk and fanned through a small stack of letters. He didn't bother looking up as she spoke.
"Save your breath, detective," he said in a voice that dripped with ennui. "As I told you or one of your underlings on the phone this morning, I do not discuss my patients with anyone. That includes twin sisters and their gendarme boyfriends."
"Now just a minute—!" Kara said.
"Nor will I be intimidated by threats of lawsuits or police state tactics."
"You're carrying this privilege business to a ridiculous extreme," Kara said.
Gates casually stepped over to the door to the hall and held it open. He looked at Kara with expressionless eyes.
"You wouldn't say that if you were one of my patients. Please leave. Both of you."
Too angry and frustrated to dare try to speak, Kara took Jill by the hand and led her out. As she strode toward the elevator, she heard Rob speaking to Gates. She couldn't make out the words, but his tone was angry. She hoped the elevator was already on this floor so she could get away without talking to him, but he caught up to her while she was waiting.
"What a tightass," he muttered as he stopped at her side.
Kara glared at him. She couldn't keep the anger out of her voice.
"Your timing was flawless!"
"Me?"
"You! He thinks we're in this together, that I brought you along to twist his arm!"
He reddened. "What? That's bullsh—!" He glanced past her at Jill as she stood at Kara's other side. "That's crazy. I didn't even know you were in town. If you'd have told me—"
The elevator arrived then. It was empty. The three of them got on. Kara let Jill press the lobby button. She realized she was overreacting. Maybe it was seeing him with Jill.
As the car started down, she turned to Rob.
"I wasn't aware that I had to let you know whenever I crossed the river. Anyway, I'm getting out of this city and away from its cold, uncaring, selfish people as soon as I can. God, I hate it more than ever!"
"How about lunch?" he said.
"No, thank you."
He nudged her gently and smiled. "Even if you hate the people, you've got to like the food. And I bet my friend Jill's as hungry as a horse."
"Yeah, Mom," she said, tugging on Kara's arm. "I'm starved."
"We'll eat at Aunt Ellen's. She's expecting us." She turned to Rob. "You remember Ellen, don't you?"
He smiled. "Of course. She liked me."
"She likes anyone who's Irish. Anyway, Jill and I are supposed to have lunch at her place today."
Rob shrugged. "Okay. Maybe next time. I'll give you a raincheck on lunch, Jill. Some place that doesn't exploit women."
Jill giggled. "Or serve chickens with cleavage!"
Kara didn't have the vaguest idea what they were talking about, but the instant rapport between the two of them alarmed her.
"Great kid you've got there, Kara. A real piece of work."
"I thought you didn't like kids."
He looked embarrassed. "Yeah, well, most of them are a pain, but your Jill is something else. You've done a great job with her. You should be proud."
"I am," she said, and she could barely hear her own voice.
Finally the elevator doors opened on the lobby. She said a quick goodbye and hurried Jill out to the street.
▼
2:00 P.M.
"I do wish you'd stay another day or so," Aunt Ellen said as she sipped her sherry.
Kara took a sip of her own. She didn't usually drink wine in the afternoon, and wasn't at all used to sherry.
But once you got past the sweetness of the first couple of sips, it wasn't half bad.
Ellen had greeted them at the door where there had been a round of embraces and a few new tears shed over Kelly. She looked great as usual. With her carefully coiffed and tinted hair, her tasteful make-up, and trim figure, she appeared a good ten years younger than her fifty-eight years.
They'd sat in the living room of her richly furnished Turtle Bay condo and talked awhile, and then Lucia, her Filipino cook and housekeeper, had served lunch. Kara thought she could never get used to a maid, but decided she could probably adjust to having a cook fairly quickly—especially one as skilled as Lucia. Her aunt seemed to take the service for granted. Her husband had been a partner in a Wall Street brokerage house. He was gone now but he had left her extremely well off.
After lunch had come the sherry. Kara had almost refused, then decided she needed it. After her encounter with Dr. Gates, and then seeing Rob and Jill together, she really needed it.
"And see how Jill loves to play with Bella," Ellen said.
Kara glanced over to the sunny window seat where Ellen's black Persian was allowing Jill to stroke her fur.