Her hand shook slightly as she handed me the envelope.

I removed the contents. Three sheets of horizontal-ruled chart paper, slightly grimy and bearing deep fold marks, each partially filled with typed notations.

The first was dated six months ago:

Saw DH today. Still hearing vces, but meds seem to hlp. Still dealing w strss of strt-life. Came in with G, both strssd.

BB, SWA

Three weeks later:

D lots better. Snstv, too. Just meds, or me? Ha ha. Maybe some hope?

BB, SWA

Then:

D showing feelngs, more and more. Tlking lots, too. Very good! Yeah, thrpy! Success! But keep limits.

BB, SWA

D cohrnt- hr brshed, totally clean! But still late. Talk re childhd, etc. Some p-c, but approp. G there, waiting. A bit hostl? Jealous? Follow.

BB

D a diff prsn. Open, vrbal, affectnt. Still late. A bit more p-c. Approp? Set lmts? Talk to JJ? Wrth the progrss? Yes!

BB

D late, but less-15 min. Some anx. Hrng vcs? Denies, says strss, alchl- drnkng with G. Talked re G, re rel bet D and G. Some anx, defens, but also opn-mind. More p-c, but ok, relieves anx. O.K.

BB

D looking hppy. Vry vrbl, no angr, no hrng vcs. G not there. Conflct bet G and D? P-c, tried to kss, no hostil when I say no. Good! Approp soc sklls! Rah rah!

BB

The final note was dated three weeks before Becky's murder:

D early- positv change! Yeah! G waits in hall. Definit hostil. Rel bet D and G straind? Re me? D's growth a stress on G? More p-c. Kss, but quick. Much affectn. Talk re this. Boundaries, lmts, etc. D a little down, but dealt w it, approp.

BB

" 'P-c,' " I said, putting the papers down.

"Physical contact," she said, miserably. "I went over and over it and it's the only thing that makes sense."

I reread the notes. "I think you're right."

"Hewitt was getting attached to her. Progressively more physical."

She shuddered. "Look at the last one. She let him kiss her. She must have totally lost control of the situation. I had no idea- she never told me."

"She obviously thought of telling you-"talk to JJ?' "

"But she didn't follow through. Look what she wrote right after that."

I read out loud: " 'Worth the progress? Yes!' Sounds like she convinced herself she was helping him."

"She convinced herself she knew what she was doing." She shook her head and looked down at the table. "My God."

"Beginner's euphoria," I said.

"She was such a sweet thing- so naive. I should have kept a closer eye on her. Maybe if I had, it could've been prevented." She pushed her salad away. Her hair hung in a sheet. Her head rested in her hands and I heard her sigh.

I said, "Hewitt was psychotic, Jean. Who knows what set him off."

She looked up. "Letting him kiss her sure didn't help! She talks about setting limits, but he probably saw it as rejection, what with his paranoia!"

She'd allowed her voice to climb. The man at the next table looked up from his cappuccino. Jean smiled at him, picked up her napkin, and wiped her face.

I scanned the notes again. Yeah, therapy! Rah rah!

She held out her hand. "I need them back."

I gave her the papers and she slipped them back in the envelope.

I said, "What are you going to do with them?"

"Destroy them. Can you just imagine what the media would do with it? Blaming Becky, turning the whole thing into something sleazy? Please, Alex, keep it to yourself. I don't want to see Becky victimized a second time." She flipped her hair again. "Also, to be perfectly honest, I don't want to be blamed for not supervising her."

"It took guts for you to show it to me," I said.

"Guts?" She laughed softly. "Stupidity, maybe, but for some reason I trust you- I don't even know why I did show it to you- getting it off my chest, I guess."

She put the envelope in her purse and shook her head again.

"How could she have let it happen? She talks about him trying to touch her and kiss her, but what I got between the lines was her developing some sort of feelings for him. All that p-cing, as if it was a cute little game. Don't you agree?"

"Fondness for him definitely comes across," I said. "Whether or not it was sexual, I don't know."

"Even if it was plain affection, it was irrational. The man was psychotic, couldn't even keep himself clean. And this G person she keeps mentioning, I still have no idea who that is. Probably Hewitt's girlfriend- some other psychotic he met on the street and dragged in with him. Becky was getting herself involved in a love triangle with psychotics, for God's sake. How could she? She was naive, but she was bright- how could she have shown such poor judgment?"

"She probably didn't think she was doing anything wrong, Jean. Otherwise, why would she have kept notes?"

"But if she thought what she was doing was okay, why not keep those notes right in Hewitt's chart?"

"Good point," I said.

"It's a mess. I should have supervised her more closely. I should have been more in touch… I just can't understand how she could have let him get that close to her."

"Countertransference," I said. "Happens all the time."

"With someone like that?"

"Prison therapists get attached to convicts. Who knows what causes attraction?"

"I should have known."

"No sense blaming yourself. No matter how closely you supervise someone, you can't be with them twenty-four hours a day. She was trained, Jean. It was up to her to tell you."

"I tried to supervise her. I made appointments, but she broke more than she kept. Still, I could have clamped down further- I should've. If I'd had any idea… she never gave a hint. Always had a smile on her face, like one of those kids who works at Disneyland."

"She was happy," I said. "She thought she was curing him."

"Yup. What a mess… I probably showed it to you because you were sympathetic and I'm still so uptight over what happened… I thought I could talk to you."

"You can."

"I appreciate that," she said wearily, "but let's be honest. What good will more talking do? Becky's dead and I'm going to have to live with the fact that I might have been able to prevent it."

"I don't see it that way. You did all you could."

"You're sweet." She looked at my hand, as if ready to touch it again. But she didn't move and her eyes shifted to her salad.

"Happy lunch," she said glumly.

"Jean, it's possible the notes might be relevant to Detective Sturgis."

"How?"

" 'G' may not be a woman."

"You know who it is?" This time her hand did move. Covering mine, taking hold of my fingers. Ice cold.

"That lawyer whose card you gave me- Andrew Coburg? I went over to see him and he told me Hewitt had a friend named Gritz. Lyle Edward Gritz."

No reaction.

I said, "Gritz is a heavy drinker, and he has a criminal record. He and Hewitt hung out together, and now no one can find him. A week or two ago, Gritz told some street people he expected to get rich, then he disappeared."

"Get rich? How?"

"He didn't say, though in the past he'd talked about becoming a recording star. For all I know, it was drunk talk and has nothing to do with Becky. But if "G' does refer to him, it indicates tension between him and Becky."

"Gritz," she said. "I assumed G was a woman. Are you saying Hewitt and this Gritz had something homosexual going on and Becky stepped in the middle of it? Oh, God, it just keeps getting worse, doesn't it?"

"Maybe there was nothing sexual between Gritz and Hewitt. Just a close friendship that Becky intruded upon."

"Maybe…" She pulled out the envelope, removed the notes, ran her finger down the page, and read. "Yes, I see what you mean. Once you think of G as a man you don't have to see it that way at all. Just friendship… But whatever the reason, Becky felt G was hostile to her."