Dr. Death by Jonathan Kellerman

I stood to greet her and she pecked my cheek. When I held her chair, she acted as if she was used to it.

“Good to see you again, Alex. Though I’m sure we’d both rather it be under different circumstances.”

One of the loitering waiters came over, smiled at Judy,

opened his mouth. Before he could speak, she said, “Gin and tonic. Sapphire gin. And no bruising. Please.”

He pouted and his eyes found their way over to me. “Sir?”

“Iced tea.”

“Very good.”

As he walked away, Judy said, “Veddy good. I’m so glad the children approve.” She laughed. Too loud, too much edge. “I don’t know why I suggested this place, Bob and I never come anymore…. Pardon me, Alex, I’m feeling mean, need time to wind down and get human. That’s one good thing about the drive from downtown. If you don’t succumb to road rage, there’s plenty of time to decompress.”

“Rough day in court?” I said.

“Is it ever sweetness and light? No, nothing extraordinary, just the usual parade of people with unsolvable problems. When things are fairly calm on the outside, I have no problem with any of it. But today …” She fingered a diamond ring on her left hand. Big, round solitaire in a platinum setting. Her right hand sported a cocktail piece—yellow diamonds and sapphires formed into a marigold. “I still can’t believe this mess with Richard. Did you have a chance to see Eric and Stacy after they took him away?”

“I saw them briefly at the station but didn’t have a chance to talk to them. Richard’s lawyer—Joseph Safer— called me this morning and told me he expected to get Richard out by today and that Richard would be calling me to talk. I’m still waiting.”

It had been a day for waiting. And guesswork. If a hypothesis is formed in the forest and no one’s there to … After returning from the library, I’d gone over Fusco’s file again, no new insights. No new messages from anyone. I hadn’t run for a couple of days, forced myself to do it, ended up in the mountains for a long time, got home still wired, did some push-ups, showered, drank water.

At six, despite the dinner appointment with Judy, I broiled two steaks and baked a couple of Idahos. Steak with Robin. I figured on a salad with Judy. Light and healthful me, what a social butterfly.

The drinks came. Judy raised her glass, inspected the contents and sipped. “Joe Safer is a prince—I’m not being sarcastic. The ideal defense attorney: kindly demeanor combined with the single-mindedness of a psychopath. If I were in trouble, I’d want him to talk for me.” Her blue eyes clouded for a moment. She drank some more and they seemed to clear.

“Ah,” she said. “This hits the spot. I don’t ingest enough poison.”

“Too temperate?”

“Too weight-conscious.”

“You?”

She smiled. “When I was sixteen I weighed a hundred and ninety-seven pounds. In high school, I was a total slug. To be accurate, I was repugnant. Walking two steps exhausted me.” Another sip. “I guess that’s why I could empathize with Joanne … up to a point.”

“Up to a point?” I said.

“Only up to a point.” Angry squint. “Let’s just say that where she ended up was a whole different planet.” She drank more, licked her lips.

“It’s hard to imagine someone deciding to eat herself into a stupor.”

“Oh,” she said, “Joanne was full of surprises.”

“Such as?”

Another squint. “Just that. And unlike me, she started off thin.”

Her voice had filled with anger and I decided to veer away. When in doubt, show personal interest.

“How’d you take off the weight?” I said.

“The old-fashioned way: deprivation. Self-denial has become my lifestyle, Alex.” She ran her finger around the rim of the glass. “There’s no other way, is there?”

“Self-denial?”

“Fighting,” she said. “Most people lack the will. That’s why we spend gazillions on the so-called war on drugs, preach about smoking and eating too much fat, but never make any progress. People will never stop getting high. People will take comfort where they find it.” Another laugh. “Some talk for a judge, huh? Anyway, I take care of myself. For health, not cosmetics. I keep my family healthy.”