He smiled at me. It was a sympathetic and understanding smile.
“I know, Rose. I’m an investigator who you asked to look into your origins. I’ve known since the day I met you. It doesn’t affect my opinion of you.”
What? He'd been so nice to me. So patient. He treated me like I was normal, and he’d known the whole time? I kept my secret like it was the code to a nuclear bomb for fear of rejection. This man was a gift. A kind, gentle gift. Maybe he could be a friend? I didn’t want to pull out my phone and go through my questions in front of him, but I was feeling a connection, so I would have to read them tonight. And read them again. And then reread them.
“Thank you. That is kind of you to say. I follow all the rules, and I take medication. It just means that I ... struggle sometimes with relating to people. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I never did.” Wow. Talking to someone other than Dr. Warren felt liberating. This man knew I’d attacked someone naked and wielding a chainand yet here he sat, facing me in a restaurant booth without looking like he was going to bolt for the door.
“We all have our problems, Rose.”
“Yes, but not all of us end up in court,” I laughed. I’d never laughed about my past. I didn’t take it lightly. I knew I’d hurt people. But this laugh was different. I was laughing at my past self, not at what I had done. Also, I was buzzing with nervous energy that I didn’t know how to rid myself of.
“Maybe you feel a connection to your mystery man because of your past Rose. Maybe you two are similar people.”
He stared at me, no longer smiling but not in a creepy way.
Fucking hell. Was he the mystery man? He was so soothing about the gift-giver. So reassuring that this man wasn’t dangerous. Is that because he knew it was him and he wasn’t a danger to me? How did I process this? I should talk to Dr. Warren, but what if she deemed this inappropriate and reported me? I could just ask him. That is what Dr. Warren would advise, but if it was Ace, he seemed open to it. And he was so understanding. If I sent him something back, anonymously of course, he would understand and let me down gently. And I’d listen.
I stared back. Should I say something with a double meaning? Something that if it wasn’t him would be lost on him, but if it was him, he’d understand immediately?Think, Rose. Think of something clever.
Ugh, my stupid brain was useless. Instead, in my quick-thinking wisdom, I thanked him for dinner and left the restaurant.
Later at home, I flicked through Amazon. What should I buy him? I didn’t have his address, and I didn’t dare stalk him. I could just send it to his office. With a note of course. What was something personal? He’d been so thoughtful with my gifts. A hound! He was the Hound, so a hound would be perfect. I founda small bloodhound stuffie online and sent it to him. It took ages because I had to create a new Gmail to order. I didn’t want him to know it was me (yet), and even as an investigator, surely he couldn’t access credit card records. My payment details might be safe, but the purchaser email might not be. I knew I was being ridiculous. If I stalked him back, he’d definitely know it was me, but it seemed like hiding our identities was part of our little dance. Using zahraandhound20@gmail, I ordered the cute little toy to be delivered to Ace Investigations. Hmm, what should my greeting be? I opted for something short and sweet, like he had.
Dear Kalb,
Thank you for your kindness.
Your Zahra.
Kalb was apparently Arabic for “hound,” according to Google. I clicked “send,” feeling excited and happy. Then I dragged out my list. I probably should have done that before sending the gift, but I felt confident.
Has this person told me they have feelings?
No, not in words. But he comforted me, came to my house when I was upset, and gave me a really good discount. I froze. Blake had done all those things, except the discount. And I’d still managed to fuck that right up.
Is there any evidence of feelings?
Shit. Again, the answer was no. He was kind. That’s all I had. But Marilyn the librarian was kind too, and that didn’t mean anything.
Have I asked this person how they feel?
No, I haven’t. Oh shit. This wasn’t good.
Do I have any reason to believe this person may lie to me about their feelings?
Yes, I was a client. He wasn’t a cop or a psych, but I guess it wasn’t good practice to date clients.
Am I feeling well or am I feeling lonely and in need of someone?
I was feeling very well. If my mystery man wasn’t Ace, I could move on. Couldn’t I? I certainly wouldn’t spring nude from a bush with a chain in my hand. I’d just be embarrassed if I was wrong. And he had no way of proving it was me.
I didn’t feel as confident anymore, but I wasn’t going to undo it. I didn’t even know if I could.
Chapter 15: The Hound—Surprise gifts
Two days later, I was scheduled to visit Paul in the afternoon. The two men I’d investigated were dead ends. One died before Rose’s estimated conception in a street fight, so he couldn’t be my Zahra’s father. Paul did admit that the times were all mixed up in his head. The other man led a childfree movement and had undergone a vasectomy at 18. He was ruled out too. He still ran a blog.
Shit, this was more difficult than I thought. I didn’t want to fail Rose. I’d push Paul for more information this afternoon.
