Her inner office was perfectly square with soft blue furnishings and lots of clean, oak parquet floor. Again, Lily felt a wave of peace and calm wash through her.

“Do let me help you sit down, Mrs. Frasier.”

“Please, call me Lily.”

“Thank you. I’d like that.” As soon as Lily was seated, Dr. Chu brought her chair alongside and took Lily’s left hand in hers again. Dr. Chu watched Lily’s eyelids flutter as warmth and calm flowed through her, and was pleased. She watched Mr. Savich ease the footstool beneath his sister’s narrow feet and saw it immediately lessened the pull on her stitches. She studied her patient. Even though she was pale, her eyes were bright. Lovely eyes, a soft light blue that went very nicely with her blond hair. She was a lovely young woman, but that didn’t really matter. What was important was that she was in trouble. What was more important was that she was soaking up the strength Dr. Chu was giving her. “Lily is such a romantic name. It sounds like soft music; it’s the sort of name to make one dream of fanciful things.”

Lily smiled. “It’s my grandmother’s name. Coincidence, maybe, but she grew the most beautiful lilies.”

“It’s interesting how some things work out, isn’t it?”

“Yes, interesting, but sometimes it’s also terrifying.”

“True, but there is nothing here to harm you, Lily.” She patted Lily’s hand again. Dr. Chu knew that Lily Frasier was an artist, and that meant she was creative, probably very bright. Such folk usually went under very easily. She said in her soft voice, “You understand that I’m going to try to help you remember what happened last Wednesday evening. Do you want this?”

“Yes, I want to know very badly what really happened. Just tell me what to do. I’ve never been hypnotized before.”

“It’s nothing, really. I just want you to relax.” She lightly squeezed Lily’s hand.

Lily felt more warmth flow through her, all the way to her bones, felt herself becomimg utterly calm. Those small hands of Dr. Chu’s, how could they make her feel like this?

Savich pulled a chair next to Lily’s and took her other hand. A strong hand, she thought, strong fingers. His hand didn’t make hers feel warm, but it did make her feel safe. He said nothing at all, was just there beside her, there for her. Sherlock sat on a sofa behind Lily, quiet as could be.

Dr. Chu said, “You will perhaps believe this a bit odd, Lily, but I don’t swing a watch in front of your eyes or let you lie on the sofa and chant this and that over and over. No, we’ll just sit here and chat. I understand you draw a cartoon strip. No Wrinkles Remus? Such an interesting title. What does it mean?”

Lily actually smiled. She felt the familiar pain of Beth’s death ease away. “Remus is a United States senator from the state of West Dementia, located in the Midwest. He’s very bright, utterly ruthless, completely amoral, has overweening ambition, and loves to pull fast ones on his opponents. He’s also known as ‘Ept Remus,’ as opposed to inept, because he’s so fast to come up with a new angle to get what he wants. He’s a spin master. He never gives up, just ignores what people say because he knows that soon enough they’ll forget, ignores what the truth is, and continues until he gets what he wants. What he wants now is the presidency, and he’s shafted a friend of his to get it.”

Dr. Chu raised a thin, perfectly arched black brow and smiled. “An interesting character study, and not all that unfamiliar.”

Lily actually chuckled. “I finished another strip just last week. His friend Governor Braveheart isn’t taking being shafted well. He’s fighting back. Although he’s tough as hell, he’s got one big problem—he’s honest. It’s good. At least I hope it is.”

“Did you take it to your editor at the paper?”

Lily paused a moment and closed her eyes. “No, I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I started feeling bad again.”

“What do you mean by ‘feeling bad’?”

“Like nothing really mattered. Beth was dead and I was alive, and nothing was worth anything, including me and anything I did.”

“You went from feeling great and creative, from smiles and laughter to utter depression?”

“Yes.”

“In just a day?”

“Yes. Maybe less. I don’t remember.”

“On the day your husband left for Chicago, how did you feel, Lily?”

“I don’t remember feeling much of anything. I was…just there.”