Hanging Time Read Online Free PDF Page B

smiled a bit grimly to himself at one of those gender differences between men and women that kept turning up to complicate the simplest things. Women took a lot longer to say good-bye, often had trouble letting go of the moment. Men liked to walk away without looking back. He wanted to walk away.
    He and Milicia had had an uneventful drive back. They talked about the house she designed for Charles and Brenda, architecture, New York City rent-controlled apartments, the firm she worked for. It was pleasant, but by no means one of those luminous, unforgettable events like the first time he met Emma.
    Jason had interviewed Emma Chapman for a paper he was writing on adults who had been moved from place to place when they were children. Emma’s father had been anofficer in the navy before he retired. Jason and Emma were instantly drawn together, as if some kind of bond between them had always existed.
    Jason started to sweat. Jesus, how could that be over? He was distracted for a second, thinking of Emma. He had no intention of seeing this woman again. Why did she suddenly need someone to talk to after he was already out of the car? She was very beautiful. Maybe she was just used to more gratification. He couldn’t tell by the way she said she wanted to see him again if she meant professionally or socially. How annoying.
    “You mean you want to see someone professionally?” he asked.
    He was awkward now, standing on the street. Why had she waited until he was out of the car?
    “Not exactly, but I do need some advice.”
    “What about Charles? He’s very good at advice. Have you asked him?”
    Milicia hesitated some more, then shook her head.
    Ah. So there was a bit of conflict there. Maybe Charles had hit on her. Jason felt a second of sympathy for her.
    “You’re a shrink, right?” she asked.
    Jason nodded. She knew he was.
    “Well, I have a very sick sister.”
    Oh. Jason relaxed. It was professional. He pulled a pen from his pocket and scribbled his number on a scrap of paper. “Sure I’ll talk to you. Here’s my number. Call if you want.” He handed her the paper and headed home as if he had averted a potentially difficult situation.
    The pendulum on the new clock stopped again at ten forty-eight. The phone rang. Shit.
    Jason had two minutes to Dennis. He decided to answer the phone and reached for the receiver. “Dr. Frank,” he said.
    “Hi. It’s Milicia.”
    “Who?”
    “Milicia Honiger-Stanton. I drove you home from the Hamptons last night. Have you forgotten already?”
    “No, no. Of course not.”
    “Remember I said I’d like to talk to you? Can I buy you lunch?”
    “No, thanks. I thought you wanted a consultation.”
    “Can we consult over lunch?”
    Jason frowned, his eyes on the motionless pendulum. “No,” he replied. “Not really.”
    “How about dinner?”
    “I don’t consult over dinner either. Would you like to make an appointment?”
    “Oh, all right,” she said. “But you’re making me think I have bad breath or something.”
    “If you need advice,” Jason said gently, “that’s a professional matter. Professional matters have to be dealt with in a professional way.”
    “All right,” Milicia repeated. There was now a slight edge to her voice. “We’ll consult. But don’t think of me as a patient.”
    “Fine,” Jason said and took out his appointment book. “When would you like to meet?”
    “Today?”
    He flipped the pages in his appointment book. A Monday patient was on vacation in Paris. He sighed. “Five-fifteen. Is that all right?”
    “Where are you?”
    He gave her the address. Then he hung up and stuck another piece of paper under the clock leg.

6
     

     
    I gor Stanislovski of Crime Scene shook his head at April’s barrage of questions that couldn’t wait for the lab reports and couldn’t be answered without them. What about this sand? She had asked about the sand in the window display. Would it be worthwhile to go through it grain by