40

A few days later, on the plane back to L.A., it hit me.

First-class flight, seats like club chairs, the Defense Department's generosity allowing Spike's crate a seat of its own.

Dinner had been salmon stuffed with sole mousse. I'd indulged in half a bottle of Chablis and fallen asleep. Robin had finished only a third of a glass, but she'd drifted off too. Now her head was heavy on my blanketed shoulder.

Sweet sleep, but I came out of it thinking about Haygood- who he'd been as a child. Was there a mother out there who'd mourn him?

Stupid thoughts, but inevitable. I tried to shake myself out of it, thinking of the good I'd been part of.

Ben freed. Some limited hope for Aruk.

The "kids" liberated and well cared for.

Moreland hospitalized, too, and evaluated. No Alzheimer's, no obscure neurological disease, just an exhausted old man.

I'd visited him an hour before we left. He hadn't told Pam or Dennis yet.

Holding back. His entire life, after the paradise needle, a struggle against impulse.

Heroism thrust upon him, he'd reinvented himself.

A thirty-year transformation, from a cruel womanizer to the patron saint of Aruk.

But yet he felt guilty.

Other sins?

Things for which there was no atonement?

As I'd left his hospital room, he'd called out, "Time deceives."

The same thing he'd told me as he bled on the white couch.

Another confession?

Is there anything else you need to know?

Cold hands… still afraid.

Not unless there's something else you want to tell me.

A long silence before he'd closed his eyes and mumbled.

Terrible things… Time deceives.

Offering himself to me- defenses down, his world unraveling.

The first time, I'd comforted him instead of pursuing it. The second time, I'd just kept walking.

Not wanting to know?

Terrible things.

Time's deceit.

His unique brand of deceit. Presenting a veiled truth while changing time and context.

Telling me about cannibal cargo cults because he suspected AnneMarie's death had been part of a money-driven conspiracy.

Recounting the nuclear blast because he'd been part of another technological horror.

Discussing Joseph Cristobal's vision and "A. Tutalo" because he yearned to unload the secret of his kids.

And something else.

The first case he'd discussed with me, moments after we'd met.

Discussing in great detail, but unable to locate the file.

Because there'd never been a file?

The catwoman.

A "lovely lady… sweet nature… clean habits." Thirty years old, her mother was morose…

Abused and humiliated by a philandering husband- forced to watch him make love to another woman.

The husband dead, years later. Eaten away by lung cancer.

A ravaged chest…

I'm all right, kitten.

Kitten, kitten… I used to call her that when she was little.

Pam not remembering.

Sent away too young to remember anything.

But Moreland remembered everything.

He'd exiled her to the best schools, turned her into an orphan who'd become a woman demeaned by men.

Marrying a philandering abuser. Turning off sexually.

Humiliated… had she, too, watched her husband rut with a lover?

Those sad eyes. Driven to depression. To the brink of suicide, she'd admitted to Robin.

So fragile, her therapist searched for family support, located and phoned Moreland.

To Pam's surprise, he flew to Philadelphia. Offered a shoulder to cry on- and more?

Had she told him the details of the humiliation?

Or had he assigned one of his lawyers to find out the facts?

Little kitten… pouring her heart out to Daddy.

The truth torturing Daddy. Because of his guilt about sending her away.

Guilt about having once been exactly the kind of man who hurt her.

A few days later, the philandering husband dies in a freak accident.

Falling barbell.

Ravaged chest.

And "kitten" returns to her birthplace.

Is there anything else you need to know?

Not unless there's something else you want to tell me.

Had Moreland stalked the young surgeon? Or had he hired someone to make things right? He was a wealthy man with the means to arrange things. The obsessive's talent for rationalizing extreme measures…

The barbell hovering over that arrogant chest…

The man who'd hurt his "kitten" so deeply.

Or maybe it had been an accident and I was letting things get away from me.

Terrible things, he'd said.

Had to be…

I'd never know.

Did I care?

At that moment, I did. Maybe one day I wouldn't.

Robin's breath reached my nostrils, hot, tinged with coffee and wine.

A pretty, dark-haired flight attendant smiled as she walked down the aisle.

"Comfy, doctor?"

"Fine, thanks."

"Going home?"

"Yup."

"Well, that's nice- unless you'd rather still be on vacation."

"No," I said. "I'm ready to get back to reality."

Jonathan Kellerman

Jonathan Kellerman is one of the world's most popular authors. He has brought his expertise as a child psychologist to numerous bestselling tales of suspense (which have been translated into two dozen languages), including thirteen previous Alex Delaware novels; The Butcher's Theater, a story of serial killing in Jerusalem; and Billy Straight, featuring Hollywood homicide detective Petra Connor. His new novel, Flesh and Blood, will be published in hardcover in fall 2001. He is also the author of numerous essays, short stories, and scientific articles, two children's books, and three volumes of psychology, including Savage Spawn: Reflections on Violent Children. He and his wife, the novelist Faye Kellerman, have four children.