Hush

As Lake massaged her temples, she realized that her face was wet with sweat. She dug in her purse, searching for a tissue. Just beneath her patent-leather wallet she felt something unfamiliar-round and made of rough cloth. She pulled it from her purse. For a second she just stared, confounded. It was a small burlap pouch, about the size of a plum. The neck was closed with twine and the insides were filled with something twiglike that poked through the fabric in places. My God, she thought-is it marijuana? Had someone stuck it in her purse?

She noticed a tag attached to the twine, blank on the side looking up at her. Slowly she turned it over. On the back was a single word: Catnip.

19

SHE’D BOUGHT CATNIP once for Smokey ages ago-but she certainly hadn’t stuffed it in her purse. No, someone else had placed the bag there. It was obviously supposed to remind her of Smokey and what had been done to him. Was it a message? I was in your backyard. This time I got even closer to you.

A word shot like a bullet through her mind: Jack. She’d left her purse with him when she had to dash back up to the apartment because Jack had told her the wrong books on the phone. His whole visit may have been a ruse just so that he could slip the catnip in her purse. If that was true, it meant he’d also shaved Smokey.

Maybe Jack was trying to unhinge her, to make it appear that she was an unfit mother. But was Jack really capable of such sick behavior?

Another thought barged through her brain: If Jack was her stalker, then there was no reason to believe that Keaton’s killer was watching her after all. In fact, Keaton’s death might have no relation to the clinic at all. All the stuff she’d been doing to save herself-going through files, talking to patients-may have been pointless, and the real threat was the man she used to love.

But, she realized with a start, her purse had also been out of her sight at the clinic. She’d left it on the conference room table while she’d searched for the files. Anyone at the clinic could have dropped in the little sack of catnip. Which would mean that the killer did work at the clinic, knew of Lake’s involvement with Keaton, and was sending her another warning. But a warning to do what? she wondered. To shut up or else?

Lake searched in her purse for a tissue and wiped the perspiration from her face. There was something else to consider: She’d left her purse in the living room at Steve and Hilary’s when she’d gone to the kitchen to see Matthew, and Hilary had scurried off alone for a minute or two when Lake was in the playroom. What if Hilary had been having an affair with Keaton? Lake remembered how flirtatious Hilary had been with him at the restaurant. And then there was the fight in the car Steve had alluded to. Perhaps Hilary had gone to Keaton’s apartment later and discovered he’d been in bed with another woman that night. In a rage she’d killed him. Now Hilary suspected Lake was the other woman but wasn’t sure and was trying to flush her out.

And yet that idea seemed as farfetched as Jack hurting Smokey.

“Is this it?” a voice said.

Startled, Lake looked up to see that the cabdriver was speaking to her through the Plexiglas divider. She hadn’t even realized that they had stopped in front of her building.

After climbing out of the cab, she glanced furtively up and down the street. The block was empty except for a woman pushing a stroller. As soon as Lake was in her apartment, she dropped the catnip into a plastic bag and shoved it in the back of a kitchen drawer. She couldn’t stand the sight of it, but she knew it wouldn’t be smart to throw it away.

As she slammed the drawer shut, her eye caught the calendar on the door of the fridge. The kids were due back in the apartment in just a few weeks. She couldn’t imagine how she could allow them to live here with the killer possibly closing in on her and the police breathing down her neck. Perhaps she could ask Jack to keep them longer in the Hamptons than planned. She could say she was swamped with a project and needed to work on it 24/7. But if Jack was the stalker, wasn’t this exactly what he was trying to do: create the impression of a mommy who was coming unglued?

I have to get a grip, she told herself as she stripped off her top. It was essential to keep her wits about her so she could watch her back at all times. That also held true with the police. She needed to keep a cool head if they showed up sweating at her door again. And if Jack was behind all the cat madness, she had to outsmart him, too. It all seemed overwhelming, but she had to do everything she could to save herself. If she didn’t, she would lose Will and Amy-and perhaps much more.

She showered and then forced herself to microwave and eat another frozen mac and cheese. After stabbing at the dregs of it in the plastic container, she paced the hall of the apartment. The one sure way to save herself, it still seemed, was to figure out what was going on at the clinic. The discrepancy about Sydney Kastner’s embryos bugged her. It could very well point to attempts by the clinic to jack up profits. And she couldn’t ignore the odd Keaton connection. He’d consulted on Sydney’s case and encouraged her to do what was right for her. Perhaps right before the celebratory dinner, Keaton had figured it all out and confronted Levin.

But how do I figure it out? Lake wondered. She thought again of the odd letters on Sydney’s information sheet. Even if she summoned the nerve to look through files again, she didn’t know what she was really looking for. Her thoughts rushed back to Alexis. There was clearly something she hadn’t told Lake, something she’d been close to revealing. It seemed Lake’s only hope was to convince Alexis to share what she knew. Lake glanced at her watch. It was almost ten. She would phone Alexis in the morning. And she would try to learn what she’d meant by cherchez la femme.

She slept with the table once again propped against the door. All through the night, Smokey paced up and down the bed as if he sensed how tense she was. The last time she remembered looking at her clock it read 2:27.

The late summer sun nudged her awake just after six. For a moment she luxuriated in the soft feel of it on her face until, with a jolt, she remembered everything. She sat up against the headboard and ran her hands through her hair. She didn’t want to wake Alexis-she sensed she’d have the phone slammed down in her ear if she did-but she didn’t want to miss her if she went to work someplace. She decided to call just before eight. Until then she would rehearse her presentation.

After dressing and making coffee, she opened her laptop. Client presentations were the part of her work she’d always liked the least, and in the early years she had positively dreaded them. She’d felt so exposed, at times even wondering if the shadow of her birthmark was actually darkening and pulsing as she spoke. But she had worked with a speech coach and learned to feel more at ease.

As she went through her presentation out loud, she seemed to stumble over every other word. It would be even worse at the clinic, she knew. Levin had been so cool to her the other day, and Brie may have since gone running to him about finding Lake poking through the files-hardly the makings of a receptive audience. To say nothing of the fact that the killer might very well be one of the people sitting at the conference table during the presentation. She couldn’t imagine how she’d ever manage to appear confident and professional.

At twenty of eight, unable to wait any longer, she phoned Alexis. The same blunt, unhappy voice said hello. A male voice-from the TV or radio-yammered in the background.

“Alexis, this is Lake Warren. I came by to see you-”

“I remember.”

“Of course. I-”

“What do you want?”

“You said the other night that you were reluctant to share more with me because you weren’t sure of my agenda. It’s true that I wasn’t very clear. You see, I’m actually working at the clinic-as a consultant. I was afraid to tell you that because I was going behind their back.”

“And your point is? I’m not sure why you’re confessing this now.”

“Because I want the chance to speak to you again,” Lake said. “I’m really concerned that something wrong might be going on there. If you tell me what to look for, I may be able to find evidence.”

There was a very long pause. If Lake hadn’t still heard the background voices, she might have thought Alexis had disconnected the call.