recognition on people’s faces. Her father was a famous man. Would he risk everything he had just to — ?
He was at the table.
“It’s good to see you, sweetheart. Sorry about our Christmas dinner.”
She forced herself to say, “So am I.”
She was staring at the menu, not seeing it, trying to get her thoughts together.
“What would you like?”
“I—I’m not really hungry,” she said.
“You have to eat something. You’re getting too thin.”
“I’ll have the chicken.”
She watched her father as he ordered, and she wondered if she dared to bring up the subject.
“How was Quebec City?”
“It was very interesting,” Ashley said. “It’s a beautiful place.”
“We must go there together sometime.”
She made a decision and tried to keep her voice as casual as possible. “Yes. By the way…last June I went to my ten-year high school reunion in Bedford.”
He nodded. “Did you enjoy it?”
“No.” She spoke slowly, choosing her words carefully. “I—I found out that the day after you and I left for London, Jim Cleary’s body…was found . He had been stabbed…and castrated.” She sat there, watching him, waiting for a reaction.
Dr. Patterson frowned. “Cleary? Oh, yes. That boy who was panting after you. I saved you from him, didn’t I?”
What did that mean? Was it a confession? Had he saved her from Jim Cleary by killing him?
Ashley took a deep breath and went on. “Dennis Tibbie was murdered the same way. He was stabbed and castrated.” She watched her father pick up a roll and carefully butter it.
When he spoke, he said, “I’m not surprised, Ashley. Bad people usually come to a bad end.”
And this was a doctor, a man dedicated to saving lives. I’ll never understand him, Ashley thought. I don’t think I want to.
By the time dinner was over, Ashley was no closer to the truth.
Toni said, “I really enjoyed Quebec City, Alette. I’d like to go back someday. Did you have a good time?”
Alette said shyly, “I enjoyed the museums.”
“Have you called your boyfriend in San Francisco yet?”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“I’ll bet you want him to be, don’t you?”
“Forse. Perhaps.”
“Why don’t you call him?”
“I don’t think it would be proper to—”
“Call him.”
They arranged to meet at the De Young Museum.
“I really missed you,” Richard Melton said. “How was Quebec?”
“Va bene.”
“I wish I had been there with you.”
Maybe one day, Alette thought hopefully. “How is the painting coming along?”
“Not bad. I just sold one of my paintings to a really well-known collector.”
“Fantastic!” She was delighted. And she could not help thinking, It’s so different when I’m with him. If it were anyone else, I would have thought, Who is tasteless enough to pay money for your paintings? or Don’t give up your day job or a hundred other cruel remarks. But I don’t do that with Richard.
It gave Alette an incredible feeling of freedom, as though she had found a cure for some debilitating disease.
They had lunch at the museum.
“What would you like?” Richard asked. “They have great roast beef here.”
“I’m a vegetarian. I’ll just have a salad. Thank you.”
“Okay.”
A young, attractive waitress came over to the table. “Hello, Richard.”
“Hi, Bernice.”
Unexpectedly, Alette felt a pang of jealousy. Her reaction surprised her.
“Are you ready to order?”
“Yes. Miss Peters is going to have a salad, and I’m going to have a roast beef sandwich.”
The waitress was studying Alette. Is she jealous of me? Alette wondered. When the waitress left, Alette said, “She’s very pretty. Do you know her well?” Immediately she blushed. I wish I hadn’t asked that.
Richard smiled. “I come here a lot. When I first came here, I didn’t have much money. I’d order a sandwich, and Bernice would bring me a banquet. She’s great.”
“She seems very nice,” Alette said. And she thought, She
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