“It was private.”

  “Then why did he leave it out here in plain sight?” He rose, coming eye-to-eye with her. Nobody, especially a woman, was going to make him feel like a criminal for simply having a little fun. He refused to blink.

  “Why are you here?” Kate stood her ground.

  Very calmly, he replied, “You mentioned you were going to be receiving more works by Ezmer Hawks on Monday. Since today is Monday, I thought I’d stop by to see them. That is,” he added, his voice taking on a calculated sneer, “if that meets with your approval.”

  She hesitated. After several seconds, she said, “All right. They’re in the back.” Turning abruptly, she left the room.

  “Here’s the first one,” she said, placing it carefully on an easel. It was another pastel. Heavy on the blues and violets.

  Hale stood back, an approving smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Good … good. Next?”

  Kate placed a larger drawing in front of the first.

  He scratched his chin. “These are even more naturalistic than the group you showed me the other day. But I like them. In a strange way they remind me of —” He stopped, a frown forming.

  “Of what?” asked Kate.

  He gave his head a small shake. “Never mind. Are there more?”

  “Two.” She hoisted the next one up.

  “Uhm. Do you see — ?” He stepped up to it and took out his reading glasses. “Here.” He pointed. “What does that look like to you?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Sure you do!”

  She leaned over to examine it more closely. “Well, it looks kind of like a sphinx — with fire between its paws.”

  Slowly Hale removed his glasses. “Exactly,” he whispered.

  “Does it mean something?”

  He didn’t answer. “Show me the last one.”

  She placed it on the easel.

  Instantly his hand flew to his mouth, muting the sound of a gasp.

  “Is something wrong?”

  He closed his eyes, feeling as if an ancient videotape was unwinding inside his brain. That horrible camp. That wretched barbecue pit. He could see it all. His heart began to pound. “Look at it! It’s that sphinx again, only larger. And look at the flames. There’s a face in it!”

  Kate stood back, shaking her head. “I have to tell you, I don’t see it.”

  “You’re a complete idiot! Just use your eyes!”

  She moved behind him and took him firmly by the arm. “Look, I think you’ve been under a great deal of stress lately. Someone took a shot at your wife. That’s got to be hard. Why don’t you come over here and sit down.”

  “Yes,” he said, running a hand over his eyes. Maybe, for once, Kate was right. He let her lead him to a chair.

  “I’ve got a bottle of brandy around here somewhere.” She began to rummage through a box on the floor.

  “Yes. Brandy. That’s a good idea.” He took out his handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

  “Here,” she said, finding it under some polishing rags. She moved to the sink and began washing out a coffee mug. “How much would you like?”

  “A stiff one.” He sneaked a peek at the last drawing. The image was still there. Damn her! Why couldn’t she see it?

  Kate handed him the cup.

  Though his hand shook badly, he took it, finishing it in one gulp.

  “Feel better?”

  “I think so.” He took a deep breath. “Yes. Better.”

  “Would you like me to call Ivy? Perhaps she should come get you.”

  “No.” Ivy was useless. Besides, she was never home. “She teaches a class on Monday evenings.”

  “I could call her office. Or leave a message with Morton information.”

  He shook his head. “I’m fine.” He stood, steadying himself on the edge of the framing table. “But I think I should be going.”

  “Do you want me to call you when we receive more of Ezmer’s work?”

  “Yes. Immediately.” He moved to the door, keeping his eyes away from the easel. “Where did you say Hawks was from?”

  “I don’t know exactly. Somewhere up near Soldiers Grove. At least, that’s the post office he uses.”

  Hale nodded. He turned to go, then hesitated. “How old is he?”

  “To my knowledge, nobody’s ever seen him. He’s kind of a recluse.”

  He felt a spasm in his stomach. “You don’t find that odd?”

  “I suppose it is.”

  “You suppose! That’s all you can say?”

  “Lots of talented people have quirks. It goes with the territory.”

  He gave her a freezing stare. “When you want to reach him, how do you do it?”

  “I send all correspondence to a post office box in Soldiers Grove. He usually writes back within a week.”

  “Would you give me that box number if I asked you for it?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Good.”

  He left without a backward glance.

  12

  Late Monday evening, Dr. Max Steinhardt pulled his Lincoln Town Car into the Micklenberg driveway and slipped the engine into neutral. “Well,” he said, reaching over and putting his arm around Ivy, “I guess we better call it a night. Unless you want me to come in.”

  Ivy glanced at the gate house. The light was on in Hale’s second-floor office. “No, he’s home. I think we better not chance it.”

  “All right. But one of these days, this farce is going to end.”

  She smiled at him, touching his cheek. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “Don’t even think about it.” He kissed her with a strength she found intoxicating. “Everything’s all set now, right?”

  “Don’t worry.”

  “We’ll never have what we really want unless we’re strong.”

  Ivy knew that if Max admired anything in this life, it was strength. His sixty-year-old physique was living proof. Never, in all her forty-five years, had she been so attracted to a man. The fact that he worked out every day at his club gave his body a tautness men twenty years his junior would envy. At this stage of her life, she never expected that sex would take on such importance. Yet, there wasn’t a thing about Max she didn’t find utterly … delicious.

  “Call me if you need me.” He gave her another lingering kiss.

  “I will.”

  “And don’t antagonize Hale any more than you have to. It’s not smart.”

  “But it’s so much fun.” She winked as she opened the car door. “Later, my love.” She bounded up the steps to the back door, giving him a wave as he sped out of the drive. Again, she looked at the gate house. If she was lucky, Hale would stay there all night. And rot.

  After pouring herself a glass of orange juice in the kitchen, Ivy grabbed her purse and headed up to her bedroom. As she switched on the light next to her bed, she noticed the time. Nearly eleven. Even though she’d been up since dawn, she wasn’t the slightest bit tired. She wondered how Louie was — and how Sarah was doing. She and Max had run into him yesterday evening coming out of a downtown restaurant. She wondered if Louie knew about them. If he hadn’t known before last night, he probably knew now. Oh, well. It didn’t matter. Louie despised Hale. Twenty years ago, if it hadn’t been for Hale Micklenberg’s youthful charm, she might have married Louie. No, he would keep his mouth shut. The one person in the world Ivy knew she could trust completely was Louie Sigerson. She decided to give him a call. It was late, but she knew he would be up. Besides, she had a favor to ask.

  The phone rang several times before he answered.

  “Hi,” she said, kicking off her shoes and lifting her feet up on the bed. “How’s Sarah?”

  “No change.” He coughed several times, clearing his throat.

  Ivy wondered if he’d been crying. These days, when she called, she never knew what she might be interrupting. “What do the doctors say?”

  “Well, she’s in no immediate danger. But —” His voice broke.

  Ivy waited, her heart aching for him.

  “It won’t be long.”

  She could feel herself begin to tear. “If I could do anything to change this for you —”

  “I know. No one can.”

  She could hear him blowing his nose. “How are you?”

  “Oh, about the same. The nights get pretty long.”

  “Are you taking some time away from the office?”

  “I went in this morning, but I can’t concentrate.”

  “I understand.”

  “It’s just — sometimes I need something to take my mind off what’s happening at home. You know.” He sniffed.

  “Then I think I might have just the ticket. I was hoping you’d be able to give me a ride over to WMST tomorrow morning. Hale and I are scheduled on Bram Baldric’s radio show.”

  “Won’t you be going with Hale?”

  “Not if I can help it. And the brakes on my car have been acting funny. I took it into the shop this afternoon.” She switched on the TV with the remote. Jay Leno was doing his monologue.

  “Okay. I’ve got the picture. What time?”

  “The program begins at nine. We should be there about ten minutes before it starts.”

  “Fine. I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty and we can catch a bite of breakfast first. What do you say?”

  “You’re a lifesaver.” Even though she couldn’t see his smile, she could feel it. At least she’d given him that much. “See you in the morning.”

  13

  “Are you sure you’re feeling all right?” asked Louie, holding the door to the radio station open for Ivy as she passed in front of him. “I’d hoped some ham and eggs might give you a little more energy.”

  “I told you. I had a restless night.” She led the way to the elevator. The studio was on the third floor.

  “Is it your back again?”

  She nodded. “I took several painkillers about one A.M., and then again at six. I think they’re starting to wear off.”

  The elevator doors opened and they stepped on.

  “Do you feel well enough to do this program? I’m sure Bram would understand if you backed out.” All during breakfast, Ivy had seemed unusually preoccupied. Louie wasn’t convinced it was simply a bad back.

  “You know how I feel about commitments. I’ll get through it.” As soon as the doors reopened, she crossed to the reception desk.

  Louie folded his thin frame into one of the chairs provided for visitors. The radio show just prior to Bram’s was being broadcast over two speakers positioned at either end of the room. A man and a woman were discussing the British royal family. Louie stifled a yawn. Chuck and Di always did that to him.

  “Ivy! Glad you could make it.” Bram emerged from one of the far doors, a welcoming smile on his face. “Hale and Kate are already here. Hang up your coat and come with me.”

  Ivy handed her things to Louie. “You remember Louie Sigerson.”

  He thrust out his hand. “Of course. Good to see you again. Come on back with us and you can watch through the glass.”

  “Fine,” said Louie, taking Ivy by the arm. She was really beginning to worry him. She seemed terribly unsteady. Even Bram seemed to notice.

  “I promise you,” said Bram, striding quickly toward the end of the hall, “this will be completely painless.”

  Ivy gave him a faint smile. Before she disappeared behind the heavy door, she whispered to Louie, “Be a dear and call Max. I’m really not feeling well.”

  “Perhaps I should take you to a hospital,” he said, trying not to sound upset. He didn’t want to frighten her.

  “No, just make the call.” Her voice was firm, but Louie could hear the uncertainty.

  “Of course. Don’t worry. I’ll go find a phone right away.”

  She gave him a peck on the cheek.

  He watched for a moment as Bram handed her a pair of earphones. Kate and Hale were already seated behind a round table. As soon as the on air light came on, Louie dashed back to the reception desk and asked where he might find a public phone. The woman pointed to one near the elevators.

  He knew it was best not to question Ivy any more than necessary. She was terribly high-strung. Pushing her to do something she didn’t want to do would only make her more anxious. Still, he was worried. Whatever it was that was bothering her, it hadn’t just started this morning. Something had been brewing for months. Hale was no help at all. When it came to emotions, he had all the sensitivity of a mollusk. And Louie had been so preoccupied with Sarah, he hadn’t been any help, either. It was only logical that Ivy would turn to someone else. And Louie felt certain he knew who that someone was.

  Opening the phone directory, he began his search for the office of Dr. Max Steinhardt.

  Louie waited in the main reception area, listening to the radio broadcast while watching the elevator doors. Max said he would be right over. In the meantime, Hale was being his usual tedious self, waxing on and on about various galleries around the country. God! It was beyond him how Ivy could put up with a man like that all these years. Hale presented himself with complete confidence, but Louie knew better. He’d never met a human being before with so many malicious insecurities.

  Kate Chappeldine spoke about her new gallery, and about how she’d grown up in New York City. Her father, Ross Chappeldine, played second violin for the New York Philharmonic. She explained that she’d picked Minneapolis as the place to start her gallery because of its national reputation for being a leader in the arts.

  So far, Ivy had said very little.

  Just as Bram started to elaborate on the local art scene, Max emerged from a side door. He’d obviously taken the stairs.

  Louie raised a weary eyebrow and stood. How utterly predictable the man was. He probably had barbells in his pockets. “Over here,” he called, motioning for him to follow.

  “Where’s Ivy?”

  “In the studio. She’s on the air right now.”

  Together they rushed down the hall.

  “You said on the phone that she’d taken some painkillers for back pain.” Max removed his gloves and stuffed them into the pocket of his coat. He was carrying a medical bag. “Do you know what she took — specifically?”

  Louie shook his head. “No clue.”

  They came to a full stop in front of the glass. Ivy noticed them immediately and gave a small wave. She took out a pen and notepad and began writing. When she was finished, she handed it to one of the technicians, who pushed it under the door.

  Max picked it up and read out loud:

  Thanks for coming. My back is still hurting me. Could I have two more of the pain pills? They’re in the gold pillbox in my purse. When I’m done in here, Max, could you check me over? I feel kind of funny.

  “Where’s her purse?” He looked around.

  “It’s right here under her coat.” Louie handed it to him.

  He opened the clasp and began rummaging through the contents. “Okay. Here’s the box. Now.” He stopped cold when he saw the pills.

  Louie could see a look of intense distress pass across his face.

  “These aren’t pain pills,” he said, watching Ivy for a moment through the glass. Her head was resting between both hands, her eyes closed. Bram appeared to be watching her, too.

  “What’s wrong?” pleaded Louie.

  “Those pills — they’re Lasix!”

  Louie didn’t understand. “So?”

  “They’re a diuretic, man. She’s a diabetic! How many did she take?”

  Louie had to think back to their conversation. “Four. Though I could be wrong. She said she took two in the middle of the night, and then two again this morning.”

  The on air light went off as the national news came on. Bram rose instantly and moved to Ivy’s side, motioning for Louie and Max to come into the room.

  “We’ve got to get her to a hospital,” said Max as he entered and knelt down next to her. He started to take her pulse. “Someone call 911 and tell them it’s an emergency. And get me a glass of water.”

  Bram quickly left the room, returning a few moments later carrying a pitcher and several mugs. “The receptionist is making the call.”

  Max nodded, reaching into his medical bag and taking out a syringe and a vial of clear-looking liquid.

  “What’s that?” asked Hale, who had remained silent during all of this. He moved closer to Ivy.

  “It’s potassium.” Max worked quickly, pushing up her sleeve. “Give her some air,” he barked, glaring at Hale.

  Hale stiffened. “She’s my wife, goddamn it! I demand some answers.”

  “I feel so light-headed,” said Ivy, holding her stomach. “And a little nauseous.”

  “Bend your head down between your legs.” Max helped her into the correct position.

  Louie, who had stayed near the door the entire time, continued to watch with a sinking sense of deja vu. For eleven years, his wife had been worked over by doctors. Nothing had helped. She was dying, and there wasn’t a single thing he could do about it. And now, here was Ivy, sick in a way he didn’t understand. It took every ounce of willpower he had to stay in the same room with her. He felt ashamed of himself for such a cowardly reaction, but there it was. Even though he loathed the timid, useless man he’d become, he couldn’t help himself. He was revolted by illness. He wanted to turn his back on all the pain and just run — as far and as fast as his feet would take him. “Is she going to be all right?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

  Max looked up, glancing from face to face. “She’s going to be fine. Absolutely fine.”

  “Back on the air in two minutes,” said one of the technicians.

  “Where are those paramedics?” demanded Hale.

  “There’s a fire station less than half a block away,” answered Bram, his eyes rising to the clock. “They should be here any second.”

  Max grabbed the pillbox and shook the pills out into his hand. “Damn,” he growled, looking up at Hale. “I can’t believe this.”

  “Here they are,” called the technician.

  Two burly men rushed into the room carrying a portable stretcher between them.

  Max took over. “I’m Dr. Steinhardt.” He stood back as they made Ivy comfortable. “I want her taken to Northwestern. I’ll ride with you in the van.”