"Maybe she was."

"Or being discovered lowered her defenses."

"What was so rotten about her marriage?"

"Her husband was also a doctor, a vascular surgeon, couple of years younger. Very brilliant, very good-looking, the med center's most eligible bachelor. Love at first sight, whirlwind courtship, but sex with him was- she couldn't respond, so she faked it. It had never been a problem for her before; she figured it would work itself out. But it didn't and eventually he realized it. At first he didn't care, as long as he got his. Soon, though, it began to bother him. Affront to his manhood, he started pressuring her. Interrogating her. Then it became an obsession: if she didn't come, it wasn't real lovemaking. Eventually, they started avoiding each other and he started having affairs. Lots of affairs, not even trying to hide it. With both of them working in the same place, she felt she was a laughingstock."

"She just sat there and told you all this?"

"It was more as if she was talking to herself, Alex. She asked him to go into counseling. He refused, saying it was her problem. So she went into therapy by herself, and eventually things just broke down between them completely and she filed for divorce. At first he was really rotten- humiliating her with cracks about her being frigid, telling her about all the girls he was going out with. But then he had a change of heart and wanted to reconcile. She turned him down; he kept calling her, begging for another chance. She said no and pressed on with the divorce. A month later he died in a freak accident. Working out in his home gym, bench-pressing. The barbell fell on his chest and crushed him to death."

"And she feels guilty."

"Extremely guilty. Even though she knows it's not rational. Because she feels he really did still love her. She can't get rid of the idea that he was overdoing the weight lifting because he was stressed out over her. And to think the first time I saw her I thought she was the girl with everything."

"The girl with nothing left," I said. "So she packs up and returns here. And finds another younger man. Did the flap over Dennis come up?"

"No. But it sure looks like you were right about her having man problems, so maybe that's what Bill was reacting to. He doesn't want her hurt again so soon."

"Maybe. C'mere." She climbed onto my lap and I held her close. "Looks like you missed your true calling."

"That's what I'm concerned about. It's not my calling. You always talk about patients saying too much, too quickly, then growing hostile."

"Honey," I said, "you weren't probing, you just listened. And you have no professional responsibility-"

"I know, Alex, but I like her- basically she seems to be a sweet woman who's experienced some horrible things. She was only three when her mother died and Bill sent her away- farming her out to relatives and then boarding schools. She says she doesn't blame Bill, he was doing his best. But it's got to hurt. Is there anything more I should be doing for her?"

"If she seeks you out, listen, as long as it doesn't make you feel uncomfortable."

"I don't want her to feel uncomfortable. We're all living together in close quarters."

"This place," I said, "is starting to feel like Eden after the fall from grace."

"No," she said, smiling. "No serpents, just bugs."

"Maybe we should think about cutting our stay short, Rob- no, wait, hear me out. There are things bothering me that I haven't told you."

She shifted position and stared up at me. "Like what?"

"Maybe I'm being paranoid, but I can't get rid of the idea that someone planted those roaches." I told her my suspicions.

"But what would be the motive, Alex?"

"The only thing I can think of is that someone wants us out of here."

"Who and why?"

"I don't know, but I'm pretty sure Bill hasn't been totally straight about his reasons for bringing me over, so there may be something going on that we're totally unaware of."

I told her about Moreland's fall in the lab, the crime clippings on his desk, his knowledge of my friendship with Milo.

"You think he wants help with a crime?" she said. "The murder on South Beach?"

"He says it's the only major crime they've had in a long time."

"What could he want from you?"

"I don't know, but he did show me the record of the autopsy, and he claims no one else has seen it other than Dennis. Each time I talk to him I get the feeling he's holding back. Either he's building up his courage or making sure he can trust me. The question is, will I ever be able to trust him? Because he lied to me about something else."

I recounted the case of Samuel H.'s radiation poisoning and my conversation with Micah Sanjay.

"That is odd," she said. "But maybe there's an explanation. Why don't you just come out and ask him?"

"I was on my way to do just that. But after he fell and started bleeding, I guess I felt sorry for him. I'll deal with it."

"And then we leave?" She looked sad.

I said, "There are also things about the murder I haven't told you. It was more than just a gory killing. There was organ theft. Evidence of cannibalism."

She lost color. Got off my lap, walked to a teak wall, and traced the wood's grain with her finger. "You thought I couldn't handle it?"

"I didn't think it was necessary to expose you to every disgusting detail."

She didn't answer.

"I wasn't patronizing you, Rob. But this was supposed to be a vacation. Would hearing about marrow being sucked out of leg bones have done you any good?"

"You know," she said, facing me, "when Pam started unloading, it was tough at first, but then it felt good. The fact that she trusted me. Breaking my routine and finding out my sympathies have been awakened isn't a bad thing. I've started to realize how much I use work to escape people."

"I've always considered you great with peop-"

"I'm talking about relating in depth, Alex. Especially to other women. You know, I've never done much of that, growing up so close to my dad, always trying to please him by doing boy stuff. You always say we're an odd couple- the guy dealing with feelings, the girl wielding power tools."

I got up and stood next to her.

"Being here," she said, "away from the grind, even for these few days, has been a… learning experience. Don't worry, I'm not going to give it all up to be a therapist. Two shrinks in one house would be too much to bear. But helping people gratifies me."

She threw her arms around me and pressed her face against my chest. "Welcome to Robin's epiphany- all that said, we can leave early if you're uncomfortable here."

"No, there's no emergency- I'm probably letting my imagination get out of control, as usual."

She kissed my chin. "I like your imagination."

"So you're okay with cannibals on the beach?"

"Hardly. But it happened half a year ago, and as you said, sex killers don't just stop. So I figure he is gone."

"You're a tough kid, Castagna."

She laughed. "Not really. First thing I did this afternoon was check my shoes for creepy-crawlies. And if something else happens, you may just see me swimming for Guam."

"I'll be right behind you. Okay, if you're fine, I am- hey, you calmed me down. You can be my therapist."

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"Ethical considerations. I want to keep sleeping with you."