Chapter 14

Roz walked through the purple door of the beauty school and salon where she and Morgaine had gone before. The head instructor Beverly stood next to a student working on a haircut and glanced over her shoulder.

“Back again so soon? Is there a problem with your color?”

Roz said, “Not the color.” Then she turned around to show off her singed hair in back.

The woman in the student’s chair gasped.

“Oh, no. This damage isn’t from the student,” Beverly was quick to point out. Then she rushed over. “What happened?”

“Uh, it was a cooking accident.”

“Holy smokes!”

Roz chuckled. “You can say that again. Is there any way it can be fixed?”

“We’ll have to try. My best student is just finishing up. Caroline, are you happy with your hair?”

“Very, considering I didn’t come out looking like that.” She pointed to Roz.

Roz mentally rolled her eyes. “I don’t want to bump any of your scheduled clients. I just wanted to show it to you, first of all to see if you can fix it, and second, so you could figure out how much time you’ll need.”

“I can’t let you walk out of here looking like that. I trust the girls to finish what they’re doing without my hovering over them. I’ll take care of you myself.” She spoke to the student. “Anna, take your client to the front desk, please?”

“Sure, but as soon as I do that can I watch what you’re doing?”

“Sure, fixing things like this would be good for you to see. In fact, all of my students should see this. Do you mind, Roz?”

“I guess not.” Hmmm…I’m a guinea pig after all.

The client Caroline got out of the chair and gestured to it. “Here. You need this more than I do.”

Roz thanked the tactless woman and got comfortable in the black leather chair. Beverly walked around the salon and gathered students who weren’t in the middle of anything time sensitive.

Anna walked her client to the front desk and returned. “That’s a shame. You’re lucky it was in the back, though. You could have singed off your eyebrows.”

“Yeah, and have to draw them on again every morning.” At least I still look all right lying on my back. I’m glad Konrad can wait for doggie style a little longer. “You’re right. It could be worse.”

“You know, you could always go for the old Victoria Beckham look. It’s still very chic.”

“That would be great if my hair will cooperate.”

Beverly chimed in as she made her way back with three more students. “I was just thinking of doing that. A wedge in the back and longer in front. Anything shorter and you’d look like a boy.”

Roz sat up straight and raised her eyebrows.

“Oh, no. I didn’t mean that you’re not feminine. You’re beautiful! Really.”

Okay, she still earns a tip.

“So, what happened?” Anna asked.

Roz smiled despite herself. “I was taking a cooking class with my boyfriend. If we’d been paying nearly as much attention to the stove as we were to each other, this wouldn’t have happened.”

The girls laughed.

“Love,” said Beverly. “It can be hazardous to your health.”

Despite her embarrassment, Roz liked the idea of helping students learn. That’s why she’d come to the school instead of an upscale Newbury Street salon in the first place. Well, that and the three-hundred-dollar price difference.

“Okay, girls. For singed hair like this, what do you think you should do? Dry cut it or wash and cut?”

The class sounded as if they were split about evenly on the answer.

“Well, I’d cut it dry first, just to get the hair all of the same integrity, then wash it and cut it again.”

I’m bound to be here all day. The girls looked so interested, though. Roz decided, What the heck. “Go for it.”

Beverly looked excited too. She probably hadn’t had the chance to show off her skills for a while. She began combing out the parts that weren’t burned first and blunt cut the extra length off. Then she pulled the back of the hair out straight.

“Ugh, what a mess,” one of the students said.

Roz saw Beverly squint at her in the mirror. “Is that the way to talk to clients?”

“No, ma’am.”

She’s right. My hair is ugly.

Beverly continued teaching, “If you were going to do a layered look, you’d start from here and work toward here, but in this case…”

Roz tuned her out for a while. All she knew was she wanted to come out looking good. Good for Konrad? Good for court? She was happy when she realized she just wanted to look good for herself. She was ready for a change.

“It must be fulfilling to take someone from ick to beautiful,” Roz said.

“Oh, it is,” Beverly nodded. “When you know someone leaves your chair ten times happier than when they came in, it’s the best feeling in the world. Isn’t it girls?”

They all nodded and murmured agreement.

Suddenly Roz had an epiphany. “How long does it take to complete a hairdressing course?”

“It depends. Most programs are under a year, and then you have to pass an exam to get your license. For young beginners, I recommend a vocational school or junior college for formal training. Some with experience can go to an advanced program and learn salon ownership and management.

“This is a good time to get into hairdressing, especially in the city. Predictions are for steady employment growth, especially in upscale urban salons.”

“Seriously? So what if I wanted to wind up in one of those really high end salons on Newbury Street? What training would you suggest for someone like me?” How cool would that be? Konrad and I could own a trendy salon, and I wouldn’t have to worry about women hitting on him, because they’d all assume he was gay. Wait a minute, I don’t have to worry about that anyway, because he’s monogamous.

“You? I thought you were a lawyer.”

“Yeah, but I’m tired of cutting people off and arguing. I think I might like cutting their hair and making them feel better instead of worse.”

Beverly grinned. “I’d like to recommend this school, but if you can afford it there are a couple of places with names you’d recognize.”

“Like?”

Beverly glanced at her students. “I’ll write down the information for you later.”

Morgaine explained to Roz that she couldn’t just drive Chad to the museum. Spirit energy wasn’t like occupying a corporeal body. If he sat in the backseat, as soon as Roz rolled out of the alley and onto the street, the car would take off and Chad wouldn’t. It made Roz picture an episode of Casper the Friendly Ghost in her brain, and she laughed. Chad wasn’t amused.

So, the trio strolled up Brookline Ave with the intention of walking Chad to the Gardner Museum. It was only a couple of miles, but for Morgaine it was a big deal. Agoraphobia meant fear of open spaces. Riding in a car could still be problematic, but walking outside, in public, made her chest tighten and her pulse race. Remember, she told herself, millions of dollars in reward money.

After that, their plans were fuzzy. Morgaine would try to summon Reginald and let the two spirits communicate while she listened in.

“Morgaine, thanks for speaking to Chad. Is he still with us?”

“Chad?”

“I’m here,” he said, halfheartedly.

“Don’t sulk. You agreed to help Konrad, remember?”

“I’m not sulking. I’m looking at that big-ass bridge over the highway.”

Morgaine came to a halt. “B—bridge?”

Roz’s hand covered her mouth. “Oh no. I read about agoraphobia. Fear of bridges was mentioned, specifically.”

“Yeah. I feel pretty exposed on bridges. But I think Chad sounded nervous about it too. She took a deep breath and grounded herself. “Are you saying you might have trouble crossing the bridge, Chad?”

“It’s the wind.”

“What wind?”

“From the traffic below. If it kicks up at the wrong moment, my energy will be blown halfway to Brighton. If memory serves, the turnpike is always busy, so this bridge is almost always windy. It’s been nice knowin’ ya.”

Her jaw dropped. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

Roz cocked her head. “What’s wrong?”

A young woman wearing jeans and a sweater approached from the other side of the bridge. Her long sandy hair suddenly lifted in the wind and wrapped around her face. She grasped it, twirled it into a ponytail and knotted it behind her head.

Morgaine whispered furiously behind her hand to Roz. “Even if I manage to cross this thing, Chad says he could be blown off course by the wind from the highway below.”

Morgaine and Roz turned to each other and at the same time uttered a worried, “Oh no.”

Roz looked crestfallen. “How are we going to manage this?”

Morgaine shrugged. “I guess this wasn’t such a good idea.”

“Hey, kids. Don’t give up so easily. I can try to use the two of you as a shield. If that doesn’t work, I’ll simply make my way back as soon as I can.”

Morgaine waited for the woman to pass them before she answered. The woman hung her head and didn’t make eye contact, so there was no need to say hello. When it was just the two—or three of them again, Morgaine said, “Chad, that’s really decent of you. I didn’t realize you cared about Konrad so much.”

“I don’t. But you said something that made me think.”

“Really? What was that?”

“You said he’d do the same for me. And you were right. In fact, recently, Joe and Gwyneth were making whoopee over his head, and something made him think the noise was me trying to get someone’s attention. He actually got off his butt and came upstairs to see if there was anything he could do for me.”

“Even though he can’t communicate with you?”

“What’s he saying?” Roz asked.

“He said he realized Konrad would do the same for him. Come to think of it, Konrad’s the one guy in the building everyone counts on for help, if they need it.”

Roz smiled. “That’s my guy—or werewolf, or…whatever.” Her expression turned serious again. “Are you sure I’m not going to be in danger if he shifts when he’s with me?”

“What did he tell you?”

“He said he’d never attack me. That a werewolf will protect the pack, especially his mate and pups, over all others.” She shook her head. “I still can’t get used to the idea of calling children pups!”

Morgaine raised her eyebrows. “Are you saying you might give birth to a litter of wolves?”

Roz let out a howl of laughter. “No. He was human until about age ten when he was bitten, and unless the children are turned, they’ll stay human.”

“Whew! That must be a relief.”

“Yeah, somehow we’ll make this work…if I can keep him out of jail.”

“Then we need to talk to Reginald and get him to admit to planting false evidence. I’m still not sure how we’re going to get Chad to the museum.”

“Okay, let’s figure out a way to do this. Chad said we might be able to shield him from the wind?”

“Yeah. What if we do sort of a ‘bat wing’ thing,” Morgaine suggested. “If we wrap our arms around each other’s waists and hold our coats open on either side, we should be able to create a fairly wide shield. If I can close my eyes and let you lead, it might help me too.”

“It figures you’d think of bat wings,” Chad said. “Let’s try it.”

The two women put their arms around each other’s waists and shimmied sideways across the bridge.

Roz glanced over at Morgaine. Her eyes were squeezed shut.

“I feel pretty foolish doing this, don’t you?”

Roz laughed. “Not really. There’s an art school on the other side of this bridge. You wouldn’t believe some of the strange things I’ve seen happen here.”

“Like what?”

Roz grinned. “Streaking, bed races, rainbow parades that had nothing to do with gay rights… They call it performance art.”

The two women chuckled and continued to shuffle across the bridge side by side. “Are you still with us Chad?”

“I’m here. Oh, shit. Here comes a truck, stay as close together as you possibly—”

Morgaine stopped and Roz took a step without her.

“What’s wrong?”

Morgaine paused. “Chad?” When he didn’t answer, she called out louder. “Chad?”

Roz stared at her wide-eyed. “Oh no. Is he…?”

Morgaine let out one final cry, “Chad? Where are you, goddamit? If you’re playing some kind of game…”

Silence. “Damn. We lost him.” She wailed and tossed her free hand in the air. “Now what?”

“Let’s keep going.”

Morgaine swallowed hard. Roz was right. She couldn’t stay there. “Hopefully Chad will meet us at the museum and if not, I’ll try to talk to Reginald myself. I just don’t know if I can persuade him to change his story.”

Morgaine and Roz resumed a more natural pose, as long as Roz’s arm around Morgaine’s waist was considered natural. But they walked next to each other over the rest of the bridge. Then she opened her eyes and continued along the sidewalk toward the Fenway.

“What made Chad think he could get the other ghost to recant?”

“You know what Karma is don’t you?”

Roz nodded.

“It exists on the other side too. Chad thinks he’s improved his Karma since he stopped driving tenants out of the building. He hopes to transcend from this plane to a higher one as soon as the powers that be notice.”

“And he thinks Reginald will want to do that too?”

“He claims that without someone to talk to, being trapped on this plane is sheer torture. He used to amuse himself with pranks on the residents, but we figured out that his behavior was probably the only thing holding him back.

“Joe Murphy solved his murder case, so his unfinished business was finally finished. Unfortunately, he still didn’t see any beam of light or porthole or anything to indicate he was welcome to transcend. So, he made an excuse to stay around saying he wanted to know how Karma paid back his murderers. The truth is, his own Karma is in trouble. He can’t transcend even though he wants to.”

“That’s terrible. So, he’s cleaning up his act?”

“He’s trying to. He’s been such a smartass for so long, I don’t expect miracles overnight.”

Roz sighed. “At least he has you to talk to. If Reginald hasn’t had anyone to communicate with for all these years, he’s probably losing it.”

“That’s what Chad thought. I mentioned there was something “off” about his energy and that he reminded me of Chad when I first moved into the building, before we discovered we could talk to each other.”

“So, Chad was losing it before he had you to talk to?”

“Yeah. He was going stark, raving bananas. You’d think Reginald would be nicer to me when I show up to talk to him, but maybe he knows it won’t last.”

“That could make him feel even worse—having a taste of companionship, knowing it will end as soon as the case is closed. Now it makes sense that he’d give false clues. Anything to keep you there.”

“I know. If only I could find someone to talk to him on a regular basis…”

“Why not you?”

Morgaine waved away the question. “If it weren’t for the money… I have to make a living. Something tells me the museum won’t hire me to chat up their disgruntled ghost.”

Roz made a “Hmmm…” noise as if she was thinking of a plan.

Morgaine remained quiet. Maybe the smart lawyer could come up with a solution if she let her mull it over.

“Reginald, please listen to me. I’m a lawyer, and seeing justice done is my job.”

Reginald regarded the two women as one tried to reason with him and the other acted as his mouthpiece.

He had nothing to lose. What if he did plant the hairs and lie about it? They couldn’t lock him up for falsifying evidence and perjury. He was already in his prison and had been there for decades. The curvy young woman with the brown and blonde strange hair could go pound sand.

“I’ve done nothing of the kind. I merely reported what I saw.” Hearing his words come from a woman’s mouth was still bizarre, but at least he finally had a voice.

“You saw Konrad take the guards to the basement and duct tape them thirty years ago?”

“No, I didn’t say that. I said they missed a piece of evidence, and I told Morgaine where to find it.”

The lawyer shook her head and looked disgusted. “Morgaine told me what our friend, Chad, was going to tell you before he got—uh, waylaid.”

“Yes, about that… What detained your ghost? Why didn’t he come with you?”

“I’ll let him explain when he gets here,” Roz said. “Meanwhile your testimony, which can only be considered hear-say, is causing an innocent man major problems. I think you should recant.”

“And I think you should lose a few pounds.”

Roz balled her fists and her face turned red, but before she came up with a retort, Reginald sensed another presence.

“Is someone else here?”

“Yeah, hello bonehead. My name is Chad, and I have a message for you.”

“Bonehead?”

“It’s a modern expression meaning idiot, moron, a person who’s stupid beyond belief.”

“Oh?” Reginald was highly offended but decided to play it cool. Perhaps this fellow was trying to get him so riled, he’d blurt out the truth. Well, he wouldn’t let that happen.

The medium continued to speak for him, but apparently the other spirit preferred she didn’t.

He said, “Morgaine, do you think you could give us a few minutes of silence to speak ghost to ghost?”

Morgaine nodded, opened her eyes, and came out of her trance.

“Yeah, listen up dude. Konrad is kind and decent. He hasn’t done anything to deserve this frame job. And you’re an ass for not only trying to ruin his life, but your afterlife too.”

“What are you talking about? What more can happen to me?” Was it possible this other spirit knew something about the afterlife? Reginald had been stuck for ninety-something years and no heaven or hell had opened its gates to claim him. At this point, he didn’t care which occured. Any change would be welcome.

The other spirit sighed. Reginald didn’t know why he couldn’t see him. He wished he could. It would be nice to know what kind of man he was dealing with.

“Do you know what Karma is?” Chad asked. “I doubt you do, or you’d realize how messed up yours is.”

“Karma is a term I’m familiar with, although it has to do with an Eastern religion and I fail to see what difference…”

“That’s because you’re a dumbass.”

All this name-calling was getting ugly. Reginald liked having someone to talk to, and he’d thought communicating with another spirit would be a special treat, but not this one. “Now see here…”

“No. You see. You’ll never get to the other side if you keep pulling this kind of crap.”

“What other side? What do you know about it and if that’s where we’re supposed to be, why are you still here?”

“I thought it was because of unfinished business, but once my murder had been solved and I still didn’t move on, I realized it had to be more than that.”

“And have you deduced what that additional criteria might be?”

“I knew enough to realize I was losing my shit. I had gone a little nuts from being alone so long. I took it out on the residents of my building, simply because I was bored.”

“How so?”

“I learned to move objects with my mind. It’s called telekinesis. I had an obnoxious sense of humor and redirected moving objects to hit someone in the eye, or I set up an obstacle course so I could laugh my ass off when they tripped. And then Morgaine talked to me, and I slowly came to realize what I had been doing.”

“What? Enjoying yourself?”

“That’s what I used to think. Now I know I had been lengthening my time here in purgatory.”

Reginald snapped to attention. “Purgatory? This is purgatory?”

“Either that or limbo. Whatever you call it, we ain’t here, and we ain’t there. We’re trapped because we can’t go back and we’re not welcome wherever we were headed—yet.”

“I see.” The rude spirit made sense. “And if I continue along this path, I’ll stay here forever?”

“I guess so. I don’t know if there’s someplace worse you could go or not. Looking around, I can see you have some pretty groovy digs. You might not want to downgrade.”

“Hmmm…I’ll have to think about whatever you just said.”

“I said…”

“Never mind, I understood you well enough.”

“So, you’ll give the ladies a statement of retraction?”

“Certainly not. I said what I said because I saw what I saw and heard what I heard.”

“You’re a friggin’ piece of work, you know that?”

“I know nothing of the kind. And I imagine you know nothing about the afterlife. Unless you’ve been there and back, everything you say is just theory.”

Chad sighed again. “I can’t think of a better explanation, can you?”

“I’ll admit I’ve been puzzled about why I’m still here, but I don’t have the answer and I’m sorry to say this, but neither do you.”

Konrad sat on his sofa with Roz and played with her cute new haircut. “You couldn’t get Reginald to admit he lied?”

“I’m afraid not,” Roz said. Her shoulders sagged. “Chad is staying for a while, hoping to wear him down.”

“That’s surprisingly decent of him.” He stretched. “I have a little good news. I was able to rebook our photography class date. We can start this week.”

“Oh, by the way, I thought of another career that might be fun. It’s not something we can try on a date, though.”

“Really? What is it?”

“Hairstylist. I spoke to the instructor at the school where I got my hair cut, and she said training was less than a year and that the job prospects in urban areas looks good.”

“It might be fun for you, but I can’t see these big meaty hands of mine doing something that requires that much dexterity.”

“Hmm…I guess you have a point. But maybe I could go for hairdressing and you could go for business management, then we could buy a trendy salon.”

“With what?”

Roz grimaced. “Oh, yeah. I forgot about the hefty down payment on a mortgage like that.”

“So, are you still interested in the photography classes?”

“Maybe. Just don’t take any pictures of me, okay?”

He rolled his eyes. “Are you back to the body issue again?”

“Well, yeah. I hate having my picture taken. I either blink or have some goofy look on my face. And then it’s there for all eternity.”

“Not with digital cameras. These days if you don’t like a picture, you can just delete it.”

“I guess.”

“Maybe it will help distract us until either the case comes to trial or Chad convinces Reginald to fess up to whatever he did.”

“Yeah, about that. I’m afraid the circumstantial evidence might be hard to disprove.”

“You’re kidding. What the hell is it? I still can’t figure out why they’d want my DNA.”

“Because a couple of strands of hair were stuck to a tiny piece of duct tape left when they cut the guards loose. Since the thieves wore Boston Cop’s uniforms, they checked the hair against their DNA. Your twin brother’s DNA is a 99.9% match. Since twins DNA are so similar, it could be yours.”

“Shit, I never saw that coming. Wait! The second time I went to the museum recently—when I was trying to think of how to tell you about my, um, condition…a toddler pulled out some of my hair.”

“Of course! That’s how Reginald got it. He must have been watching.”

“Goddamn filthy, lying ghost. He framed me for something I didn’t do!” Konrad leaned over with his head in his hands and groaned. “What now, Roz?”

A few days passed before Chad was able to make his way back to the building and talk to Morgaine. When he said Reginald refused to back down, Roz’s hopes for a retraction were dashed. She had conferred with colleagues and the best they could hope for was that Konrad’s alibi would hold up—or the prosecution’s case would fall apart.

Roz decided that to be thorough, she should get ghost hunters to investigate the existence of Reginald—not that she didn’t believe Morgaine, but she knew the woman needed money. Anyone could claim mediumship powers and “fake” a channeled spirit, right? Konrad refused to believe that Morgaine would do such a thing, so he stayed out of the next part of Roz’s research.

She stood in an air-stream trailer in Hyde Park, the makeshift office of B.A.S.H. (Boston Area Spirit Hunters) talking to the lead investigator, Shawn. She had already explained the basics.

He rose from his chair. “You said over the phone that this is for a court case. Would we be required to testify?”

“Not unless we can prove that the ghost doesn’t exist.”

“It would be easier to prove rather than disprove the existence of a spirit with our infrared equipment.” He pulled out a chair on the client side of his metal desk.

Roz took a seat in the hard folding chair. “What do you mean?”

“If we don’t see anything, it doesn’t prove he isn’t there and hiding from us. If we capture an image, it could confirm his existence.”

“At least in some minds,” Roz said. “I might luck out and get a jury who disbelieves everything supernatural, but I read studies that claim at least sixty percent of Americans have had firsthand encounters with some sort of spirit activity, so that’s unlikely.”

Shawn scratched his head. “And yet at least ninety percent of the calls we investigate turn up nothing. You said this is a cognizant spirit, right?”

“Yes, if the medium is genuine, and I think she probably is, then she channeled a ghost named Reginald who died in the nineteen-thirties. He seemed quite aware of who was in the room, what we looked like, and what we wanted to know.”

“If you believe the medium is genuine, why do you need us?”

“My natural skepticism demands it.”

Shawn nodded. “I understand, but if you hire us and we confirm his existence, then you might prefer you hadn’t been so thorough.”

Roz paused and considered it. “No,” she said eventually. “I need to know the truth, at least for myself. Is there any way of doing this surreptitiously?”

“You mean without the medium knowing, or without the museum’s knowledge and permission?”

“Both, preferably.”

Shawn leaned back in his chair and looked like he was considering the implications carefully. “It’s not the ideal situation. We generally like to go into places when it’s dark in order to use our infrared cameras and we might need to gain access to off-limit areas. Spirits who want to hide—and that’s most of the harmless, cognizant ones trapped on this plane without an agenda—will avoid the public. We can still use thermal imaging, but that might attract attention.”

“Damn.” She should have thought this over more carefully or asked more questions over the telephone.

“We could always bring in our own sensitive.”

“Your own what?”

“Sensitive. It’s what Psychics and Mediums like to be called these days. I have a few that I trust completely. They’ve worked with us while we’re using our equipment and usually the sensitive’s contacts validate the electronic findings and vice versa.”

“I see. I assume you’d charge less for the sensitive only, since you wouldn’t need to use your fancy cameras and thermal equipment.”

“I’m sure we can work something out.”

After breaking everything down, Roz negotiated a fair price and signed the contract hiring B.A.S.H. if, for no other reason, than to put her own mind at ease. She didn’t have to tell Konrad about it, did she? After all her fuss about honesty, she felt a little conflicted, but the less he knew about certain things, the better. He’d be bound by oath to answer all questions truthfully.

Would she have to verify the haunting of the Gardener Museum in court? Not unless they place me on the witness stand. Very unlikely. And even then, she could word her answers like a good lawyer, and commit to nothing.

When Roz returned to the apartment building, she found an envelope addressed to her taped on her front door. She recognized the handwriting. Before she even stepped inside, she ripped it open.

“Oh no.”

Konrad’s door slammed and when Roz glanced up, he was jogging down the stairs.

“What’s wrong, angel?”

“How did you know something was wrong?”

“I was coming down to see if you were home anyway, and I smelled fear.” He nodded at the paper in her hand. “Is there something in that note that upset you?”

“It’s nothing.” She shrugged one shoulder and tried to act casual. “You can smell fear?”

He folded his arms and frowned. “Yes. Now, you want complete honesty from me, so I think I should expect the same from you.”

She sighed. “Yeah, you’re right, but I can handle this.”

“And by this, you mean…”

“My stepfather is in town and wants to see me.”

Konrad’s eyes popped. “The perv?”

“It’s okay. He just heard I have a high-profile case and said he wants to ‘help.’” Roz made finger quotes in the air.

“That’s right, he’s a lawyer too.”

“Yeah. And what he really means is he wants a piece of the publicity.”

“I’d like to be present when you talk to him.”

“No!” She bit her lower lip. “I mean, I don’t think that’s a great idea considering you’re the defendant…unless you want the benefit of his expertise?”

“Hell, no. I don’t want anything from him. I just want to be sure you’re safe.”

“I will be. Don’t worry.”

“That’s like telling me not to get furry under the full moon. It isn’t something I can control. At least let me hide nearby so you can call me telepathically if you need me.”

She thought it over. “I guess it would make me more comfortable knowing you were handy, just in case—you’re not the only one who can smell fear. Seasoned lawyers are good at that too.” She quickly added, “But I want to be the one to stand up to him.”

“Noted. So, when and where are you seeing him?”

“He said he was going to lunch with a client, and he’d check back here after that.”

“Okay, so we’ll wait for him in your apartment. When he knocks, I’ll lock myself in your bedroom.”

“There’s no lock on my bedroom door.”

“Then I like the idea of being in there even better.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s not like he’s going to try anything—again.”

“He’d better not.”

Roz jumped when she heard a knock on her door. Konrad, sitting next to her on the couch, pulled her close and whispered, “If you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be right in the next room.” He gave her a quick kiss and retreated to the bedroom.

She rose, steeled herself for facing her step-father, and hoped the meeting wasn’t as awkward as she anticipated. She crossed to the door warily and opened it a crack. There he stood, hands in his pressed pants pockets, looking as nervous as she felt.

“Hello Roz.”

She crossed her arms. “Hello, jerk. What do you want?”

He smiled the smarmy smile she remembered. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Roz. Water under the bridge. Can’t we be friends after all this time?”

“Not really.”

He sighed. “Well, I came in peace. In fact, I thought I could help you. I understand you have a difficult case coming up.”

“I have all the help I need, thank you.”

He hung his head. “Please don’t be like that Roz. We haven’t talked in so long, and you never know, I might have some insight. If you’re uncomfortable inviting me into your apartment, perhaps I can take you out for a cup of coffee?”

She wasn’t fooled by his contrite act. He’d never admitted doing anything wrong and she knew he never would. “No thanks, Stan. I have coffee here.”

He tossed his hands in the air and paced, but he didn’t leave. She knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t, even, or maybe especially, when he was getting nowhere and looked exasperated.

At last, he whirled on her and took his authoritative stance. “There’s no reason in the world that you should treat me this way. I have nothing but your success in mind. Surely you can’t believe I’d be fool enough to come here with any motive other than professional. Look at you. It’s not like you’re irresistibly attractive. You’ve put on at least twenty pounds.”

The fine hairs on the back of her neck prickled. Roz’s nostrils flared and she clamped her lips together tight so she wouldn’t say anything to make her sound like the hurt little girl he was trying to manipulate her into becoming.

“Roz, I’m coming out.”

No! I can handle this. Stay right where you are.

“Then end the conversation. One more comment like he just made, and I’ll punch him in the face.”Roz stepped back and began to close the door.

“What’s the matter? I just spoke the truth in order to ease your mind and put the past behind us.”

She mustered an even tone and said, “The past is part of me now. Maybe that’s the extra weight you’re looking at.”

“Oh now, don’t try to blame—”

The loud bang as the door slammed drowned out the rest of Stan’s sentence. She turned the dead bolt and ignored his demands to open the door.

Konrad came barreling out of the bedroom. She placed herself between him and the door and pushed on his solid chest, stopping him.

“Are you all right?”

She took a deep breath and exhaled in an effort to steady her nerves. “I’m fine—or I will be.”

“Roz, please… Let me escort him to the sidewalk—by the seat of his pants.”

“No, it’s better if he doesn’t see you. Just… Just hold me.”

He grasped her in a tight embrace.

She felt his heart pounding and imagined adrenaline rushing through his veins. He really does love me—enough to fight for me. Yet, he’s willing to listen and respect my wishes. It’s a damn good thing since I’m ninety-nine percent sure that jerk-face will be in the courtroom for the trial.

“Take me to the bedroom,” she whispered. “I need to lie down.”

He swooped her up in his arms and carried her to her bed. Gently, he placed her in the center of the bed and crawled in next to her.

Propped up on his elbow, he asked, “Is there anything else I can do? Can I call Dottie and sic her on him?”

Roz laughed. “You don’t have to protect me from everything, Konrad. I appreciate your being here for me, but honestly, sometimes all I need is your moral support.

“You’ve got it.” He bent over and kissed her tenderly. “But just in case I need to know whom I’m punching out sometime, what’s his name?”

Roz chuckled. “Stanley Addison.”

“Okay. if he upsets you again, he’ll be Mr. Subtract-a-son.”