“Yes,” I say.
“For how long?”
“Three months,” I say. “Moved in July first, to be exact.”
Three thirty in the afternoon, to be even more exact. I remember it perfectly, watching from an upstairs window as he pulled in to the driveway, parking that nice new Lexus behind my car. He hustled six boxes from the trunk to his office and knocked on my door before he left. “That’s a nice touch,” he said, gesturing to the sign I had installed at the end of the driveway. DR. SAM STATLER, PSYCHOLOGIST. “I appreciate it.”
“Welcome to the Lawrence House,” I said. “I hope you’ll like it here.” He then told me he had arranged to have an extra lock installed on his office door, but had to catch a train to New York; would I mind letting in the locksmith? His name was Gary Unger from Gary Unger Locksmiths, Sam said, adding how he wished he’d been part of the focus group Gary Unger must have hired to come up with the perfect name for his business. I laughed and told Sam I’d be happy to let him in. In fact, I was always happy to help.
“And how well do you know him?” Sheehy asks, jarring me back to the room.
“As well as any landlord knows a tenant,” I say. “We say hi when we cross paths.”
“Was he a good tenant?”
“Very good.”
“Pay the rent on time?”
“He didn’t pay rent.”
He and the boy cop snap their heads at me. “Nothing?” Sheehy asks. “That’s awfully generous of you.”
“Well, before you go out of your way to recommend me for sainthood, we had an arrangement. Sam agreed to help me around the house. Small things. Changing lightbulbs. Taking out the trash. As you said, this house is a lot for one person.”
“Especially old ones like this. Always something.” Sheehy shakes his head like he has some experience with this. “What about strange characters? You seen any of them hanging around downstairs?”
John Gently smirks. “Aren’t they all a little nuts? I got a sister who goes to therapy. Two hundred dollars she pays to complain about her husband for forty-five minutes. Rich people sure are good at coming up with ways to spend all that money.”
I force my face into a neutral expression. If this young man only knew the number of people Sam has helped—the things he’s done for me, just by osmosis—he would know Sam is worth every penny. “No, no strange characters,” I say, addressing Franklin Sheehy. “Of course, a therapist always has to be careful about issues around transference.”
“Excuse me?” he says, peering at me from under the frames of his glasses.
“It’s not uncommon for patients to idealize their therapist,” I explain. “Develop an unhealthy need to be close to them.” Like, for instance, the French Girl with a history of inappropriate relationships, who, if I were you, I’d look into.
“He talk to you about his patients?” the kid asks, trying to insert himself.
I laugh. “Of course not. That would be a clear violation of HIPAA. But anyone with half a brain can imagine that that type of work is as difficult as it is rewarding.”
“Uh-huh,” Sheehy says, looking bored. “And the night of the storm. His wife told us you reported seeing Dr. Statler leave his office?”
“Yes, that’s right. Around five,” I say. “I’m kicking myself for not telling Sam about the travel advisory you’d put into place. I doubt he has time to check the weather report when he’s down there helping people all day. I could have—”
“Oh I wouldn’t beat myself up if I were you,” Sheehy says, peering down at his notebook again. “You know how some people are. Can’t tell them anything.”
“Do you think he had an accident?”
“Not ruling anything out,” Sheehy says. “Got an eye out for his car.” He closes the book. “Shame we can’t get inside his office for a look around. No key, I hear?”
“Privacy issues,” I say, shaking my head. “Sam was a real stickler.”
“That’s what you like to hear,” Sheehy says. “A person who still values privacy.”
“Yes, indeed,” I say. “I’m sorry I’m not much help.”
Sheehy sticks his glasses in his front pocket and stands up. “You’ll call us if anything . . .” he says as I lead them through the foyer.
“Of course. Good luck,” I call after them as they head back to the car under a cold rain. “I hope you find him.”