“Maybe. Used to help out lots of folks from the country. What’s it to you?”

“Would it be possible for us to come in and discuss this? I’m sure your neighbors don’t need to know our business.” Skye put her hand on the door handle. This was sort of like a home visit. Not pleasant, but something she was trained to do.

Miss Prynn looked them both up and down, then demanded, “Let me see some identification.”

They pressed their driver’s licenses against the bars. She squinted between the tiny photos and their faces, finally unlocking the door and permitting them to pass. She carefully turned keys and bolts behind them.

Once inside, they found themselves in a small foyer with scarred wooden steps leading upstairs. To their right was another door.

It was through that portal that their hostess led them to a small living room crowded with dusty overstuffed furniture. There was one hard chair in the room, and Skye, remembering the advice of a social worker during her training, chose to sit there. Miss Prynn settled into what was obviously “her” chair, which left the couch for Simon.

“So, what’s so important? I’m missing my TV program.” Miss Prynn clutched the remote.

“Do you remember working a case in Scumble River about thirty-three years ago?” Skye sat forward.

Miss Prynn rubbed her temple. “Maybe. I worked lots of cases in that neck of the woods.”

“I was told that back in the early to mid-sixties you helped out when one of my aunts had a nervous breakdown. Her name was Minnie Leofanti.”

“Mmm, Leofanti. That name does sound familiar. But I’m remembering a different first name.” Miss Prynn stared at the blank television screen. “Name was Mona, not Minnie.”

Skye, hardly containing her excitement, struggled to keep her voice level. “Well, as I understand it, Minnie’s younger sister, Mona, accompanied her when you came for them. Could that be the mix-up?”

Miss Prynn sank back in her chair. “Sure, I remember now. Two girls, both in their teens. Pretty little things. Didn’t look at all Eyetalian like their name.”

Skye restrained herself from correcting the older woman’s pronunciation and explaining about the blonds of northern Italy. “Yes, that would be them. Do you remember where you took them for treatment?”

When Miss Prynn didn’t answer, Skye tried another question. “Do you recall what Minnie’s diagnosis was?”

Miss Prynn’s eyes took on a cunning gleam and she rubbed her hands together. “I might be able to remember. Keep all my records right here for safekeeping and I could go back and look, but you know that information is all confidential.”

“I realize that, and I understand your position. I’m a psychologist myself, but this could be a life-and-death situation. I’d be very grateful.” Skye tried to connect with her, one professional to another.

“Grateful, huh? Just how grateful would you be?” Miss Prynn’s eyes brightened.

Skye frowned. “I’m afraid I-”

Simon cut her off. “How much would it take?”

Miss Prynn smiled. “Ten thousand?”

Simon stood up and took Skye’s arm, forcing her to rise, too.

“Five thousand?” The old lady’s voice took on a whiny tone.

Taking out his wallet, Simon said, “One hundred, for your inconvenience.”

“Five hundred. It could mean my license.”

Skye found her voice. “Two-fifty. You don’t practice anymore.”

Miss Prynn fisted her hands. She looked at the shabby room and small television set. Frustration mixed with anger on her face. “Okay. You know, you’re as much of a bitch as your aunt was.”

“I don’t suppose you’ll take a check?” Skye asked, half in jest.

“Cash. Tens and twenties.” Miss Prynn stood. “I’ll dig out the file tonight. You bring the money Monday morning, first thing.”

“Why not tomorrow?” Skye frowned.

“Not on the Sabbath.” Miss Prynn locked the door behind them.

It was nearly midnight when Simon dropped Skye at her cottage. They had decided to spend the rest of the day at Lake Geneva and had taken the late dinner cruise.

Simon walked Skye to the door and took her in his arms. “What a great day. I love being near the water.”

Skye reached up and smoothed his hair back at the temple. “The company wasn’t bad either.”

He nuzzled her ear and a shiver ran down her spine. She could feel the sexual magnetism that made him so self-confident. His lips met hers and happiness filled her.

As their kiss deepened, his hand closed over her breast and she pulled away. He was so very good-looking and she reacted so strongly to him; she couldn’t let this go any further. Dark memories of her ex-fiancé surfaced. She wasn’t ready to completely trust another man.

Simon looked down at her. “What’s wrong?”

“We’re both tired. Maybe we should talk about this some other time.” Skye refused to meet his eyes.

“I’ve heard that excuse before. I think we need to get this into the open.” He waited, daring her to be honest.

Skye sat down on the concrete step. “What more is there to say? I’ve told you before I wasn’t ready for anything but a casual relationship.”

Simon joined her on the stair, his mouth spread in a thin-lipped smile. “You told me all right, but that was nine months ago. Most couples move forward, but you’re stuck in the past.”

She ducked her head. Maybe he was right. She wasn’t being very mature or very strong. But the few times she had allowed herself to be totally swept away by love had always turned out disastrously. She was afraid of her own taste in men. “I’m sorry Simon, but I’m just not ready to go through the humiliation again.”

“You think it would be humiliating to love me?” His voice was cold.

“No, that isn’t what I mean.” Skye looked up at the stars and wished she could be different. “Whenever I become truly, deeply involved with a man I lose my common sense, my good judgment.”

Simon’s lips twisted into a cynical smile. “You mean you do worse things than breaking and entering or buying confidential medical records?”

Skye narrowed her eyes and looked at him for the first time since they had begun talking. “Comments like that just prove what I’m saying. You don’t understand my needs and ambitions, but you expect me to understand yours.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Simon stood up. “How can I understand? You’ve never told me what happened with your ex-fiancé.”

She met his accusing eyes without flinching. “There’s nothing much to tell. He was handsome, charming, rich, and held an impressive social position in New Orleans’ society. I was awed that he had any interest in me and so unsure of myself that I allowed myself to become his puppet. I agreed with things I felt strongly against. I said things I didn’t mean. And I did things I’ll regret to my dying day. All to please him.”

“You were out of your element, away from home. That wouldn’t necessarily happen again.” Simon took her hand.

She shook off his touch. “When things went wrong with my job and the threat of a scandal became known, he dumped me and never looked back.” Skye stood up and whispered, “He never even said good-bye.”

“I’m not like that. Let me prove to you that isn’t how all men are.”

Skye took a ragged breath. He was slicing open a barely healed wound. “I need more time.” Time to forget, to erase the pain. “Can’t we just go on the way we’ve been? Have fun without becoming serious?”

Simon wrapped his hands around her upper arms and forced her to look at him. Rancor sharpened his voice. “No. I want more. And if you aren’t prepared to give it to me, then I have to look elsewhere. Time is moving on. I don’t want to be sixty when my kids graduate from high school.”

He spoke so viciously that she wondered how she could have ever thought him kind. “I’m sorry. I’m just not ready. I lose myself when I’m in love. I’m afraid your opinion will become more important than mine. I’m afraid I’ll become so terrified of losing you I’ll do anything to keep your love.”