The Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove Chapter 14~15

Fourteenmollie waste Cove was a decorative town built for show only peerless degree more usable than a Disneyland attraction and decidedly lacking in businesses and services that catered to residents rather than tourists. The business district included ten art galleries, five wine-tasting lives, twenty restaur-ants, xi gift and card shops, and one hardware store. The position of hardware clerk in Pine Cove was highly coveted by the towns retired male population, for todayhere else could a man posture well past his prime, pontificate, and generally indulge in the arrogant self-important chest-pounding of an alpha male with place having a woman intercede to move him that he was patently full of shit.Crossing the threshold of Pine Cove Hardware and chanceing the beam that rang the bell was tantamount to setting off a testosterone alarm, and if theyd had their way, the clerks would leave constructed a device to at-omize the corners with urine every time the bell tolled. Or at l east thats the way it seemed to molly when she entered that Saturday morning.The clerks, three men, broke from their heated program line on the finer points of installing a wax chamberpot oceanl ring to s gobe, snicker, and make snide comments under their breath most the woman who had entered their domain. molly breezed past the counter, focusing on an aisle display of gopher poison to avoid eye contact. Raucous laughter erupted from the clerks when she turned down the aisle for c everyplace supplies.The clerks, frump, Bert, and Les all semiretired, balding, paunchy, and generally interchangeable, except that Frank wore a belt to hold up his double knits, while the other two sported suspenders fashioned to look give care yellow measuring tape planned to make molly beg. Oh, theyd let her wander roughly for a while, let her try to comprehend the ar kindlee func-tion of the gizmos, geegaws, and wid arrests binned and bubble-wrapped approximately the store. Then she would induce to interject back to the counter and submit. It was Franks turn to do the condescending, and he would do his best to drop-kick her ego before finally tether the little lady to the appro-priate product, where he would continue to question her into full humili-ation. Well, is it a sheet metal screw or a wood screw? Three-eighths or s dismantle-sixteenths? Do you pee a hex head screwdriver? Well, then, youll take in one, wont you? Are you convinced(predicate) you wouldnt rather only call manyone to do this for you? Tears and/or sniffles from the customer would signal victory and confirm superior status for the male race.Frank, Bert, and Les watched Molly on the security monitor, exchanged slightly comments close to her breasts, laughed nervously afterwards five minutes passed without her surrender, and tried to look busy when she emerged from the aisle carrying a five-gallon can of roof-patching tar, a roll of fiberglass fabric, and a retentive-handled squeegee.Molly stood at the counter, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Bert and Les squinted into a catalog set on a rotating stand while concentrating on sucking in their guts. Frank man the register and pretended he was doing aboutthing complex on the keyboard, when, in fact, he was incisively making it beep.Molly cleared her throat.Frank looked up as if hed skillful noniced she was there. Find everything you contract?I commemorate so, Molly state, pickings both hands to lift the heavy can of tar onto the counter.You lack some resin for that fiberglass fabric? Les express.And some hardener? Bert said. Frank snickered. virtually what? Molly said.You cant patch a trailer roof with that stuff, miss. You live down at the vaporise Rod, dont you? They all knew who she was and where she lived. She was often the subject of hardware store gossip and speculation, even though shed neer set foot in there before today.Im not going to patch a roof.Well, you cant use that on a driveway. You indi gence asphalt sealer, and it should be applied with a brush, not a squeegee.How more than do I owe you? Molly said.You should wear a respirator when you work with fiberglass. You have one at home, right? Bert valued.Yeah, right following(a) to the elves and the gnomes, Les said.Molly didnt flinch.Hes right, Frank said. Those fibers get down in your lungs and they could do you a world of harm, especially with those lungs.The clerks all laughed at the joke.Ive got a respirator out in the truck, Les said. I could distinguish by after work and give you a hand with your little project.That would be great, Molly said. What time?Les balked. Well, I, umIll pick up some beer. Molly smiled. You guys should come a retentive too. I could really use the help.Oh, I destine Les can handle it, cant you, Les? Frank said as he hit the total key. That comes to 37 sixty-five with tax.Molly counted her money out on the counter. So Ill see you tonight?Les swallowed hard and forced a smile. You bet , he said. give thanks then, Molly said brightly. Then she picked up her supplies and headed for the door.As she broke the doorbell beam, Frank whispered Crazy slut under his breath.Molly degreeped, turned slowly, and winked.Once she was outside, the clerks made ugly old white guy attempts at trading high-fives while patting Les on the back. It was a hardware store fantasy fulfilled much better than just humiliating a woman, Les would get to humiliate her and get her naked as well. For some reason theyd all been feeling a little randy lately, thought about sex almost as often as power tools.My wife is going to kill me, Les said.What she dont know wont hurt her, the other two said in unison.TheoTheo actually mat up his stomach lurch when he went into his victory garden and clipped a handful of sticky buds from his pot plants. They werent for himself this time, entirely the varan of how much this little patch of plants ruled his disembodied spirit made him ill. And how was it that he hadnt mat up the need to fire up his Sneaky Pete for three days? A twenty-year drug habit suddenly ends? No withdrawal, no side effects, no cravings? The freedom was almost nauseating. It was as if the Weirdness Fairy had landed in his life with a thump, popped him on the head with a rubber chicken, bit him on the shin, then went off to inflict herself on the rest of Pine Cove.He stuffed the ganja into a plastic bag, tucked it into his jacket pocket, and climbed into the Volvo for the forty-mile drive to San Junipero. He was going to have to enter the bowels of the county justice building and face the spider to find out what he wanted to know. The pot was grease for the wanderer. He would stop by a convenience store on the way down and pick up a bag full of snacks to augment the bribe. The Spider was difficult, arrogant, and downright creepy, but he was a cheap date.Through the safety-glass window, Theo could see the Spider sitting in the middle of his web five computer s creens with data scrolling across them illuminated the Spider with an ominous blue glow. The only other light in the room came from tiny red and green power indicator lights that shone through the darkness bid crippled stars. Without feeling away from his screens, the Spider buzzed Theo in.Crowe, the Spider said, not feel up.Lieutenant, Theo said.Call me Nailgun, the Spider said.His name was Irving Nailsworth and his official position in the San Juni-pero Sheriffs Department was chief technical business officer. He was five-foot-five inches tall, weighed three hundred and thirty pounds, and had taken to erosion a black beret when he perched in his web. Early on, Nailsworth had seen that nerds would rule the world, and he had staked out his own little information fiefdom in the basement of the county jail. Nothing happened without the Spider knowing about it. He monitored and con-trolled all the information that moved about the county, and before anyone recognized what sort of p ower that afforded, he had made himself indis-pensable to the system. He had never balked a suspect, touched a firearm, or set foot in a patrol car, yet he was the third-highest-ranking officer on the force.Besides a taste for raw data, the Spider had weaknesses for junk food, Internet porn, and high-quality marijuana. The latter was Theos key to the Spiders lair. He put the plastic Baggie on the keyboard in front of Nails-worth. Still without flavour at Theo, the Spider opened the bag and sniffed, pinched a bud between his fingers, then folded the bag up and stuffed it into his shirt pocket.Nice, he said. What do you need? He peeled the marshmallow cap off a Hostess Sno Ball, shoved it into his mouth, then threw the cake into a wastebasket at his feet.Theo set the bag of snacks down next to the wastebasket. I need the autopsy report on Bess Leander.The Nailgun nodded, no easy task for a man with no discernible neck. And?Theo wasnt sure what questions to ask. Nailsworth seldom vol unteered information, you had to ask the right question. It was like talking to a rotund Sphinx. I was wondering if you could come up with something that might help me find Mikey Plotznik. Theo knew he didnt have to explain. The Spider would know all about the missing kid.The Spider reached into the bag at his feet and pulled out a Twinkie. Let me pull up the autopsy. His fat fingers flew over the keyboard. You need a printout?That would be nice.It doesnt show you as the investigating officer.Thats why I came to you. The M.E.s office wouldnt let me see the report.Says here cause of death was cardiac arrest due to asphyxiation. Suicide.Yes, she hung herself.I dont designate so.I saw the body.I know. Hanging in the dining room.So what do you mean, you dont think so?The ligature attach on her neck were postmortem, according to this. Neck wasnt broken, so she didnt drop suddenly.Theo squinted at the screen, trying to make sense of the data. There were heel marks on the wall. She had to have hung herself. She was depressed, taking Zoloft for it.Not according to the toxicology.What?They ran the toxicology for antidepressants because you put it on the report, but there was nothing.It says suicide right there.Yes, it does, but the date doesnt corroborate the timing. Looks like she had a heart attack. Then she hung herself afterward.So she was murdered?You wanted to see the report. It says cardiac arrest. exactly ultimately, cardiac arrest is what kills everyone. Catch a bullet in the head, get hit by a car, eat some poison. The heart tends to stop.Eat some poison?Just an example, Crowe. Its not my field. If I were you, Id check and see if she had a history of heart problems.You said it wasnt your field.Its not. The Spider hit a key and a laser printer whirred in the darkness somewhere.I dont have much on the kid. I could give you the subscription list for his paper route.Theo realized that he had gotten all he was going to get on Bess Leander. I have that. How a bout giving me any known baby-rapers in the area?Thats easy. The Spiders fingers danced over the keyboard. You think the kid was snatched?I dont know shit, Theo said.The Spider said, No known pedophiles in Pine Cove. You want the whole county?why not?The laser printer whirred and the Spider pointed through the dark at the noise. Everything you want is back there. Thats all I can do for you.Thanks, Nailgun, I appreciate it. Theo felt a chronic case of the creeps going up his spine. He took a step into the dark and open the papers sitting in the tray of the laser printer. Then he stepped to the door. You wanna buzz me out?The Spider swiveled in his chair and looked at Theo for the first time. Theo could see his neanderthal eyes shining out of cryptical craters.You still live in that cabin by the Beer Bar Ranch?Yep, Theo said. Eight years now.Never been on the ranch, though, have you?No. Theo cringed. Could the Spider know about Sheriff Burtons hold over him?Good, the Spider said. S tay out of there. And Theo?Yeah?Sheriff Burton has been checking with me on everything that comes out of Pine Cove. aft(prenominal) the Leander death and the truck blowing up, he got very jumpy. If you decide to pursue the Leander thing, stay low-key.Theo was amazed. The Spider had actually volunteered information. Why? was all he could say.I like the herbaceous plant you bring me. The Spider patted his shirt pocket.Theo smiled. You wont tell Burton you gave me the autopsy report?Why would I? said the Spider.Take care, Theo said. The Spider turned back to his screens and buzzed the door.MollyMolly wasnt so sure that life as Pine Coves Crazy Lady wasnt harder than being a Warrior Babe of the Outland. Things were pretty clear for a Warrior Babe you ran around half-naked looking for food and fuel and occasionally kicked the snot out of some mutants. There was no subterfuge or rumor. You didnt have to guess whether or not the Sand Pirates ap-proved of your behavior. If they approved, they staked you out and tortured you. If they didnt they called you a bitch, then they staked you out and tortured you. They might release starving radioactive cockroaches on you or burn you with risque pokers, they might even gang-rape you (in foreign-release directorscuts only), but you always knew where you stood with Sand Pirates. And they never giggleed. Molly had had all the tittering she could handle for the day. At the pharmacy, they had tittered.Four elderly women worked the counter at Pine Cove Drug and Gift, while above them, behind his glass window, Winston Krauss, the dolphin-molesting pharmacist, lorded over them like a rooster over a barnyard full of hens. It didnt seem to offspring to Winston that his four hens couldnt make change or do the simplest question, nor that they would retreat to the back room when anyone younger than thirty entered the pharmacy, lest they have to sell something embarrassing like condoms. What mattered to Winston was that his hens worke d for stripped wage and treated him like a god. He was behind glass tittering didnt bother him.The hens started tittering when Molly hit the door and broke titter only when she came to the counter with an entire case of economy-sized Neosporin ointment.Are you sure, dear? they kept asking, refusing to take Mollys money. mayhap we should ask Winston. This seems like an awful lot.Winston had disappeared among the shelves of faux-antidepressants when Molly entered the store. He wondered if he should have ordered some faux-antipsychotics as well. Val Riordan hadnt said.Look, Molly finally said, Im nuts. You know it, I know it, Winston knows it. But in America it is your right to be nuts. I get a check from the state every month because Im nuts. The state gives me money so I can buy whatever I need to continue being nuts, and right now I need this case of ointment. So ring it up so I can go be nuts somewhere else. Okay?The hens huddled and tittered.Or do I need to buy a case of those hu ge fluorescent orange prelubricated condoms with the deely-bobbers on the tip and blow them up in your card section. You never have to get this tough with Sand Pirates, Molly thought.The hens broke their huddle and looked up in terror.I hear theyre like thousands of tiny fingers, urging you to let go, Molly added.Between the four of them it only took ten minutes more to ring up Mollys order and figure her change within the nearest dollar.As Molly was leaving, she turned and said, In the Outland, you would have all been made into jerky a long time ago.FifteenSteveGetting blown up had put the sea Beast in a deep blue funk. Sometimes when he felt this way, he would swim to the edge of a coral reef and lie there in the sand while neon cleaner fish nipped at the parasites and algae on his scales. His flanks flashed a truce of color to let the little fish know that they were safe as they darted in and out of his mouth, grabbing bits of food and shite like tiny dental hygienists. In turn , they emanated an electromagnetic message that translated roughly to I wont be a minute, sorry to bother you, please dont eat me.He was getting a similar message from the warmblood that was ministering to his burns, and he flashed the truce of color along his sides to confirm that he understood. He couldnt pick up the intentions of all warmbloods, but this one was wired differently. He could sense that she meant him no harm and was even going to bring him food. He understood that when she made the Steve sound, she was talking to him.Steve, Molly said, stop making those colors. Do you want the neighbors to see? Its broad daylight.She was on a stepladder with a paintbrush. To the casual observer, she was painting her neighbors trailer. In fact, she was applying great gobs of Neosporin oint ment to the Sea Beasts back. Youll heal faster with this stuff on you, and it doesnt sting.After she had covered the charred parts of the trailer with ointment, she draped fiberglass fabric on as b andages and began ladling roof-patching tar over the fabric. Several of her neighbors looked out their windows, dismissed her actions as more eccentricities of a crazy woman, then went back to their afternoon game shows.Molly was spreading the roofing tar over the fiberglass bandages with a squeegee when she heard a vehicle pull up in front of her trailer. Les, the hardware guy, got out of the truck, castigateed his suspenders, and headed toward her, looking a little nervous, but resolved. A light dew of sweat shone on his bald head, despite the autumn chill in the air.Little lady, what are you doing? I thought you were going to wait for me to help you.Molly came down from her ladder and stood with the squeegee at port arms while it dripped black goo. I wanted to get going on this before dark. Thanks for coming. She smiled sweetly a leftover movie star smile.Les escaped the smile to hardware land. I cant even tell what youre trying to do here, but whatever it is, it looks like you mucked it up pretty bad al busy.No, come here and look at this.Les moved cautiously to Mollys side and looked up at the trailer. What the hell is this thing made of anyway? Up close it looks like plastic or something.Maybe you should look at it from the inside, Molly said. The damage is more obvious in there.The hardware clerk leered. Molly felt him trying to stare through her sweatshirt. Well, if thats what you think. Lets go inside and have a look. He started toward the door of the trailer.Molly grabbed his shoulder. Wait a second. Where are the keys to your truck?I leave em in it. Why? This town is safe.No reason, just wondering. Molly dazzled him with another smile. Why dont you go on in? Ill be in as soon as I get some of this tar off of my hands.Sure thing, missy, Les said. He toddled toward the front door like a man badly in need of a rest room.Molly backed away toward Less truck. When the hardware clerk laid a hand on the door handle, Molly called, Steve LunchMy name isnt Steve, Les said.No, Molly said, youre the other one.Les, you mean?No, lunch. Molly gave him one last smile.Steve recognized the sound of his name and felt the thought around the word lunchLes felt something wet wrap around his legs and opened his mouth to scream just as the tip of the serpents tongue wrapped his face, cutting off his air. The last thing he saw was the unornamented breasts of the fallen scream queen, Molly Michon, as she lifted her sweatshirt to give him a farewell flash before he was slurped into the waiting maw of the Sea Beast.Molly heard the bones crunch and cringed. Boy, sometimes it just pays to be a nutcase, she thought. That sort of thing might bother a sane person.One of the windows in the front of the dragon trailer closed slowly and opened, a function of the Sea Beast pushing his meal down his throat, but Molly took it for a wink.EstelleDr. Vals office had always represented a little island of sanity to Estelle, a sophisticated status quo, always clean, c alm, orderly, and well appointed. Like many artists, Estelle lived in an melodic line of chaotic funk, taken by observers to be artistic charm, but in fact no more than a civilized way of dealing with the sexual relation poverty and uncertainly of cannibalizing ones imagination for money. If you had to spill your guts to someone, it was nice to do it in a place that wasnt spattered with paint and covered with canvases that beckoned to be finished. Dr. Vals office was an escape, a pause, a comfort. But not today.After being sent in to the inner office, before she even sat down in one of the leather guest chairs, Estelle said, Your assistant is wearing oven mitts, did you know that?Valerie Riordan, for once with a few hairs out of place, rubbed her temples, looked at her desk blotter, and said, I know. She has a skin condition.But theyre attach on with duct tape.Its a very bad skin condition. How are you today?Estelle looked back toward the door. Poor thing. She seemed out of breath when I came in. Has she seen a limit?Chloe will be fine, Estelle. Her typing skills may even improve.Estelle sensed that Dr. Val was not having a superb day and decided to let the assistant in oven mitts pass. Thanks for seeing me on such short notice. I know its been a while since weve had a session, but I really felt I need to talk to someone. My life has gotten a little weird lately.Theres a lot of that going around, Dr. Val said, doodling on a legal pad as she spoke. Whats up?Ive met a man.Dr. Val looked up for the first time. You have?Hes a musician. A vaporsman. Hes been playing at the Slug. I met him there. Weve been, well, hes been staying at my place for the last couple of days.And how do you feel about that?I like it. I like him. I havent been with a man since my husband died. I thought I would feel like, well, like I was betraying him. But I dont. I feel great. Hes funny, and he has this sense of, I dont know, wisdom. Like hes seen it all, but he hasnt become cynical. He seems sort of bemused by the hardships in life. Not at all like most people.But what about you?I think I love him.Does he love you?I think so. But he says hes going to leave. Thats whats bothering me. I finally got used to being alone, and now that I found someone, hes going to leave me because hes afraid of a sea monster.Valerie Riordan dropped her pen and slumped in her chair a very unprofessional move, Estelle thought.Excuse me? Val said.A sea monster. We were at the beach the other night, and something came up out of the water. Something big. We ran for the car, and later Catfish told me that he was once chased by a sea monster down in the Delta and that it had come back to get him. He says he doesnt want other people to get hurt, but I think hes just afraid. He thinks the monster will come back as long as hes on the coast. Hes trying to get a gig in Iowa, as far from the coast as he can get. Do you think hes just afraid to commit? I read a lot about that in the womens ma gazines.A sea monster? Is that a metaphor for something? Some Blues term that Im not getting?No, I think its a reptile, at least the way he describes it. I didnt get a good look at it. It ate his best friend when he was a young man. I think hes running away from the guilt. What do you think?Estelle, theres no such thing as sea monsters.Catfish said that no one would believe me.Catfish?Thats his name. My Bluesman. Hes very sweet. He has a sense of knightliness that you dont see much anymore. I dont think its an act. Hes too old for that. I didnt think I would ever feel this way again. These are girl feelings, not woman feelings. I want to spend the rest of my life with him. I want to have his grandchildren.Grandchildren?Sure, hes had his days with the booze and the hos, but I think hes ready to settle down.The booze and the hos?Dr. Val seemed to have gone into some sort of fugue state, working on a stunned psychiatrist autopilot where all she could do was parrot what Estelle said ba ck in the form of a question. Estelle needed more input than this.Do you think I should tell the authorities? about(predicate) the booze and the hos?The sea monster. That Plotznik boy is missing, you know?Dr. Val made a show of straightening her blouse and assuming a controlled, staid, professional posture. Estelle, I think we may need to adjust your medication.I havent been taking it. But I feel fine. Catfish says that if Prozac had been invented a hundred years ago there wouldnt have been any Blues at all. Just a lot of happy people with no soul. I tend to agree with him. The antidepressants served their purpose for me after Joe died, but Im not sure I need them now. I even feel like I could get some painting done if I can find some time away from sex.Dr. Val winced. I was thinking of something besides antidepressants, Estelle. You obviously are dealing with some serious changes right now. Im not sure how to proceed. Do you think that Mr., uh, Catfish would mind coming to a sessi on with you?That might be tough. He doesnt like your mojo.My mojo?Not your mojo in particular. Just psychiatrists mojo in general. He pass a little time in a mental hospital in Mississippi after the monster ate his friend. He didnt care for the staffs mojo. Estelle realized that her vocabulary, even her way of thinking, had changed over the last few days, the result of immersion in Catfishs Blues world.The regenerate was rubbing her temples again. Estelle, lets make another appointment for tomorrow or the next day. Tell Chloe to add it on at the end of the day if Im booked up. And try to bring your gentleman along with you. In the meantime, break him that my practice is mojo-free, would you?Estelle stood. Can that little girl write with those oven mitts on?Shell manage.So what should I do? I dont want him to go. But I feel like Ive lost a part of myself by falling in love. Im happy, but I dont know who I am anymore. Im worried. Estelle realized that she was starting to whine and looked at her shoes, ashamed.Thats our time, Estelle. Lets save this for our next appointment.Right. Should I tell the constable about the sea monster?Lets hold off on that for now. These things have a way of taking care of themselves.Thanks, Dr. Val. Ill see you tomorrow.Good-bye, Estelle.Estelle left the office and stopped at Chloes desk outside. The girl was gone, but there were animal noises coming from the bathroom just down the hall. Perhaps she had caught one of the oven mitts on her nose ring. Poor thing. Estelle went to the bathroom door and knocked lightly.Are you okay in there, dear? Do you need some help?The answer came back in high moan. Im fine. Really fine. Thanks. Oh my GodYoure sure?No, thats all rightIm supposed to make an appointment for tomorrow or the next day. The doctor said to pencil it in late if you have to. Estelle could hear thumping noises coming from the bathroom, and it sounded as if the medicine cabinet had dumped.Oh wow Wow Oh wowThe plan must reall y have been tight. Im sorry. I wont bother you anymore. Call me to confirm, would you, dear?Estelle left Valerie Riordans house even more unsettled than she had come in, thinking that it had been quite some time, half a day anyway, since she had had her skinny Bluesman between the sheets.Dr. ValVal had a break between appointments, time in which to reflect on her suspicion that by taking everyone in Pine Cove off antidepressants, she had turned the town into a squirrels nest. Estelle Boyet had always been a tad eccentric, it was part of her artist persona, but Val had never seen this as unhealthy. On the contrary, the self-image of an eccentric artist seemed to help Estelle get over losing her husband. But now the woman was raving about sea monsters, and worse, she was getting involved in a relationship with a man that could only be construed as self-destructive.Could people rational adult people still fall in love like that? Could they still feel like that? Val wanted to feel li ke that. For the first time since her divorce, it occurred to her that she actually wanted to be involved again with a man. No, not just involved, in love. She pulled her Rolodex from the desk drawer and thumbed through it until she found the number of her psychiatrist in San Junipero. She had been in analysis all through med teach and residency, it was an integral part of the training of any psychiatrist, but she hadnt seen her therapist in over five years. Maybe it was time. What sort of cynicism had come over her, that she was interpreting the require to fall in love as a condition requiring treatment? Maybe her cynicism was the problem. Of course she couldnt tell him about what she had done to her patients, but perhapsA red light blinked on the tiny LED panel on her phone and the incoming call, screened by Chloe, who had obviously taken a short break from her self-abuse, scrolled across the screen. Constable Crowe, line one. Speaking of squirrels.She picked up the phone. Dr. R iordan.Hi, Dr. Riordan, this is Theo Crowe. I just called to tell you that you were right.Thank you for calling, Constable. Have a nice day.You were right about Bess Leander not taking the antidepressants. I just got a look at the toxicology report. There was no Zoloft in her system.Val stopped breathing.Doctor, are you there?All her worries about the drugs, this whole perverse plan, all the extra sessions, the long hours, the guilt, the friggin guilt, and Bess Leander hadnt been taking her medication at all. Val felt sick to her stomach.Doctor? Theo said.Val forced herself to take a deep breath. Why? I mean, when? Its been over a month. When did you find this out?Just today. I wasnt given access to the autopsy report. No one was. Im sorry it took so long.Well, thank you for letting me know, Constable. I appreciate it. She prepared to ring off.Dr. Riordan, dont you have to get a medical history on your patients before you prescribe anything?Yes. Why?Do you know if Bess Leander had a ny heart problems?No, physically she was a very healthy woman, as far as I know. Why?No reason, Theo said. Oh yeah, I never got your thoughts on the information I shared at breakfast. About Joseph Leander. I was still wondering if you had any thoughts?The whole world had flip-flopped. Val had stone-walled up to now on Bess Leander because she had assumed that her own negligence had had something to do with Besss death. What now, though? Really, she didnt know much about Bess at all. She said, What exactly do you want from me, Constable?I just need to know, did she suspect her husband of having an affair? Or give you any indication that she might be afraid of him?Are you saying what I think you are saying? You dont think Bess Leander committed suicide?Im not saying that. Im just asking.Val searched her memory. What had Bess Leander said about her hus-band? I remember her saying that she felt he was uninvolved in their family life and that she had laid down the law to him.Laid down th e law? In what way?She told him that because he refused to put the toilet seat down, he was going to have to sit down to pee from now on.Thats it?Thats all I can remember. Joseph Leander is a salesman. He was gone a lot. I think Bess felt that he was somewhat of an intrusion on her and the girls lives. It wasnt a healthy relationship. As if there is such a thing, Val thought. Are you investigating Joseph Leander?Id rather not say, Theo said. Do you think I should be?Youre the policeman, Mr. Crowe.I am? Oh, right, I am. Anyway, thanks, Doctor. By the way, my friend Gabe thought you were, uh, interesting, I mean, charming. I mean, he enjoyed talking with you.He did?Dont tell him I said so.Of course. Good-bye, Constable. Val hung up and sat back in her chair. She had unnecessarily put an entire town in ablaze chaos, committed a basketful of federal crimes as well as breaking nearly every ethical standard in her field, and one of her patients had mayhap been murdered, but she felt, wel l, sort of excited. Charming, she thought. He found me charming. I wonder if he really said charming or if Theo was just making that up the pothead.Charming.She smiled and buzzed Chloe to transport in her next appointment.