Doctor, but Mrs. Terry is quite fragile and I’m running out of time. Is there any possibility I could see you today?” I knew this was a long shot because shrinks rarely made room for the walk-in trade.
“Can you tell me what the delicate matter is?”
“I’d prefer to discuss this in person.” I lowered my voice to a near whisper. “I’m not alone right now and I don’t want to be overheard.”
Lucy smirked.
“Ah, I see.” Godwin’s voice was reassuring, and I hoped he’d prove to be a sympathetic ally in my search for Claire’s story.
“I just so happen to have a cancellation this afternoon. I can see you at one.”
Birdie gave me the thumbs-up.
“Thank you so much, Doctor. I’ll be there at one.”
I put down the phone and looked at my friends. “Well, today’s my lucky day.”
Lucy threw me an amused look. “What’s this ‘delicate matter’ anyway?”
“Haven’t a clue. I’ll come up with something. Meanwhile, I’m hoping to examine the quilt to see if there is anything unusual about it.” I got up to look for my digital camera, just in case.
Two hours later I parked near an upscale office building on Ventura Boulevard. Lots of windows enclosed an atrium awash in natural daylight. I walked over to a large pool in the center of the atrium to get a closer look.
A miniature waterfall splashed serenely over the lip of a stone fountain into a pool where hyacinths, ferns, and pond lilies sheltered a few golden koi swimming lazily beneath the surface. The air smelled slightly damp.
I took the elevator to the sixth floor. Godwin’s office was situated in the corner of the building. The waiting room was small and beige with steel and black leather chairs. Sole practitioner psychiatrists typically didn’t employ office staff, and Godwin was no exception. I looked at my watch: 12:55. I flipped through a copy of Los Angeles magazine I pulled from a stack on the glass coffee table.
At precisely one, the door on the far side of the reception area opened. Alexander Godwin strongly resembled that forty-something bad boy movie star who was famous for breaking his girlfriends’ hearts. He looked down at me from a height of over six feet and with just the right mixture of gravitas and charm. Under the light of his smile, I felt I’d just lost about thirty pounds. “Mrs. Rose? Please come in.”
“Actually, it’s Ms.”
I could see why Claire might have wanted to give gobs of money to BCA. Godwin’s smile was über- charismatic. He was so charming he probably could have raised donations for the Wall Street bankers’ bonus fund.
I patted my hair in place as I walked behind him, down a short hallway to his office. His stride was long and elegant. He stepped aside to allow me to enter his office first. As I passed him, the glint of his gold wedding band caught my eye.
The sunlight streamed into this equally beige room through the two walls of windows and was diffused and softened by the tinted glass.
“Please have a seat, Ms. Rose, and tell me how I can help.” He gave me another reassuring smile and directed me to a soft, cream-colored sofa as he took his place in a black leather Eames chair.
I was tempted to smile back. This was the kind of man you wanted to hold your stomach in for. Come on , focus. I’m supposed to be grieving . I swallowed hard and visualized dead puppies. Dead kittens. Another Republican in the White House.
C HAPTER 14
A tissue box was strategically placed on the table next to the sofa. Psychiatrists bought them by the carload. I used to go to a big box store to purchase them in bulk for my ex-husband’s office. Aaron possessed a true gift for making people cry.
I dared to look up at Dr. Godwin. “Claire told Mrs. Terry she sewed the story of her life into her quilts. Did she ever mention anything about them to you?”
“Well, I knew she made quilts. I gather she was quite good at it, but she never mentioned anything about stories. How would someone go
“Can you tell me what the delicate matter is?”
“I’d prefer to discuss this in person.” I lowered my voice to a near whisper. “I’m not alone right now and I don’t want to be overheard.”
Lucy smirked.
“Ah, I see.” Godwin’s voice was reassuring, and I hoped he’d prove to be a sympathetic ally in my search for Claire’s story.
“I just so happen to have a cancellation this afternoon. I can see you at one.”
Birdie gave me the thumbs-up.
“Thank you so much, Doctor. I’ll be there at one.”
I put down the phone and looked at my friends. “Well, today’s my lucky day.”
Lucy threw me an amused look. “What’s this ‘delicate matter’ anyway?”
“Haven’t a clue. I’ll come up with something. Meanwhile, I’m hoping to examine the quilt to see if there is anything unusual about it.” I got up to look for my digital camera, just in case.
Two hours later I parked near an upscale office building on Ventura Boulevard. Lots of windows enclosed an atrium awash in natural daylight. I walked over to a large pool in the center of the atrium to get a closer look.
A miniature waterfall splashed serenely over the lip of a stone fountain into a pool where hyacinths, ferns, and pond lilies sheltered a few golden koi swimming lazily beneath the surface. The air smelled slightly damp.
I took the elevator to the sixth floor. Godwin’s office was situated in the corner of the building. The waiting room was small and beige with steel and black leather chairs. Sole practitioner psychiatrists typically didn’t employ office staff, and Godwin was no exception. I looked at my watch: 12:55. I flipped through a copy of Los Angeles magazine I pulled from a stack on the glass coffee table.
At precisely one, the door on the far side of the reception area opened. Alexander Godwin strongly resembled that forty-something bad boy movie star who was famous for breaking his girlfriends’ hearts. He looked down at me from a height of over six feet and with just the right mixture of gravitas and charm. Under the light of his smile, I felt I’d just lost about thirty pounds. “Mrs. Rose? Please come in.”
“Actually, it’s Ms.”
I could see why Claire might have wanted to give gobs of money to BCA. Godwin’s smile was über- charismatic. He was so charming he probably could have raised donations for the Wall Street bankers’ bonus fund.
I patted my hair in place as I walked behind him, down a short hallway to his office. His stride was long and elegant. He stepped aside to allow me to enter his office first. As I passed him, the glint of his gold wedding band caught my eye.
The sunlight streamed into this equally beige room through the two walls of windows and was diffused and softened by the tinted glass.
“Please have a seat, Ms. Rose, and tell me how I can help.” He gave me another reassuring smile and directed me to a soft, cream-colored sofa as he took his place in a black leather Eames chair.
I was tempted to smile back. This was the kind of man you wanted to hold your stomach in for. Come on , focus. I’m supposed to be grieving . I swallowed hard and visualized dead puppies. Dead kittens. Another Republican in the White House.
C HAPTER 14
A tissue box was strategically placed on the table next to the sofa. Psychiatrists bought them by the carload. I used to go to a big box store to purchase them in bulk for my ex-husband’s office. Aaron possessed a true gift for making people cry.
I dared to look up at Dr. Godwin. “Claire told Mrs. Terry she sewed the story of her life into her quilts. Did she ever mention anything about them to you?”
“Well, I knew she made quilts. I gather she was quite good at it, but she never mentioned anything about stories. How would someone go
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