I stood, brushed off my knees, and without saying anything, let myself out of her office.

Mercifully, Bernie was on the phone, so I didn’t have to banter with her. I left the clinic, walking out the rear door. I sat on the back steps, staring at the lush summer green of the overgrown back lot. The buzzing of bees carried through the still, sultry air.

Why had I done that I wondered? Flaunted my…past in front of a woman who could only feel contempt for what I was. I had guaranteed her disapproval, perhaps disgust.

That makes it safe, doesn’t it, I suddenly thought. It makes it impossible for her to love me. Like I had made it impossible for Danny to love me. I had gotten what I’d really wanted. I didn’t like the thought. Maybe I’m just protecting myself by not imagining possibilities that will never come true. We’d been together one night. For a lot of reasons, none of which had anything to do with her wanting to spend the rest of her life with me.

I heard the door open behind me.

“Where do you want the pieces?” Elly said, sitting beside me on the stairs.

“Oh, hi, Elly. I’m okay. You can go eat your sandwich where it’s cool.”

“Want a bite?”

“No, thanks. I’m fine.”

“What happened? I don’t think I’ve ever seen Cordelia so flustered.”

“We discussed my moral standards. Or lack of them. That would probably fluster anyone.”

“What business is it of hers?”

“She thought I was propositioning Bernie.” I conveniently left out Joanne.

“Were you?”

“No, of course not. Well, maybe mild flirting. She was asking me about being a lesbian. And I was answering her questions. In my usual style.”

“That’s what got Cordelia so upset?”

“I guess,” I hedged. “Maybe it was the manner in which I answered some of her questions. Besides, it’s hard to believe I’m an innocent once you’ve heard the Danny Clayton version of my life story. Sorry, Elly,” I caught myself.

“It’s okay,” she replied equitably.

“I guess you’ve heard the Danny Clayton version, too,” I said sheepishly.

“At length.”

“Oh…well.” I shrugged my shoulders.

“I’ve always wondered what the Micky Knight version is,” she said. “There are usually two sides to any story.”

“Only one true.”

“Which?”

I looked at Elly, wondering what she wanted from me.

“I suppose Danny’s told you I gratuitously slept around on her, making a point of rubbing her face in it? That if she tried to talk to me I was a sarcastic bitch?”

“Not quite those words.”

“If that’s what Danny told you, she was being polite. I made sure she regretted ever thinking she was in love with me. I gave new meaning to the word ‘despicable.’”

“Why? Not that I’m not grateful, mind you.”

“Grateful?” I asked.

“If you had stayed with Danny I wouldn’t be with her now.”

“Danny and I would have broken up at any rate. I just made sure we did it at my convenience. Don’t be grateful to me.”

“Why?” she asked again.

“Why not?” I countered. Then immediately, “I don’t know. I really don’t.” Because Danny had said she loved me and I knew that couldn’t be true.

“If you don’t want to tell me, I won’t press.”

“What are you going to tell Danny?”

“Nothing. This conversation is between us.”

“I don’t know,” I still hedged. “I…can’t explain.” I couldn’t.

Elly glanced at her watch. “Well, back to the zoo.” She got up.

“Sorry, Elly,” I said.

“For what?”

“Just…I don’t know.” Then, to change the mood, “I left Danny because I knew someone like you would show up someday and I didn’t think she’d have enough sense to dump me when the right woman arrived. Now get back to work before Cordelia thinks I’m propositioning you.”

“I doubt that,” Elly replied. She put her hand on my shoulder and gave it a friendly squeeze.

“Elly,” I called her back. “Do you remember any of the women—the murdered women? Beverly Sue Morris? Alice Janice Tresoe?” Then I added, “Vicky Williams?”

Elly looked at me. “The woman in the woods? Why do you think she’s connected?”

“A botched abortion and she gets dumped at a party Cordelia’s going to. It’s hard not to connect it.”

“True.” Then Elly was silent.

“Do you remember any of the women?” I asked again.

“Yeah, I do,” Elly said slowly. “Alice. I remember her looking at me and saying, ‘I can’t be pregnant again, can I?’ She had three kids already.”

“Was she pregnant?”

“Yes. She decided to have an abortion.”

“When?” I asked.

“On the day she died,” Elly answered.

“Thanks, Elly,” I said softly.

She nodded and then went back into the building.

I sat where I was for several minutes, then finally noticed that I was hungry. I walked across the yard, around the truncated wrought iron fence and headed for a grocery I had seen on the avenue.

I brought back my lunch and sat on the steps eating it, trying to figure out what to do next. No satisfactory answer came to mind.

After I finished eating, I walked around the building. The protesters were gone, the parking lot was uneventful. Few people were out on either the avenue or the side street. The midafternoon sun made me sweat even at the leisurely pace of my walk. I ended back where I was, but not wanting to sit like some gargoyle on the stairs, I strolled over to the edge of the overgrown back lot. The tall weeds and small trees were motionless, shimmering green in the bright sunshine. Nothing stirred in the still air; even the humming bees seemed to have gone home. I could smell the faint tang of leaves, a slight honeysuckle scent mixed with it. I picked one of the near flowers and sucked the nectar out of it.

“Well, Miss Knight, ever on duty.” O’Connor approached me across the yard.

“Someone has to prevent you from arresting the wrong person,” I replied.

“Is that what Dr. James is paying you for?”

“No. My sense of honor demands it.”

“Of course. Honor. A rare commodity these days.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Visiting the scene of the crime. Who knows what might happen. Perhaps Dr. James’s memory will miraculously improve.”

“She didn’t do it.”

He ignored that. “Perhaps the one question I don’t know the answer to will resolve itself.”