Scott was instantly angered, but decided not to show it. “She left some socks and underwear behind. I was putting them in her drawer. I saw the letter. I read it. It troubled me. I shouldn’t have read the letter, I guess, but I did. What does that make me, Sally?”

Sally didn’t answer this question, although several replies jumped to her mind. Instead, she asked, “What sort of letter was it?”

Scott cleared his throat, a classroom maneuver to gain himself a little time, then simply said, “Listen.” He read the letter to her.

When he stopped, they both let silence surround them.

“It doesn’t sound all that bad,” Sally finally said. “It sounds like she has a secret admirer.”

“A secret admirer. That has a quaint, Victorian sound to it.”

She ignored his sarcasm and remained quiet.

Scott waited for a moment, then asked, “In your experience, all the cases you handle, wouldn’t you think this letter had overtones of obsession? Maybe compulsion? What sort of person writes a letter like that?”

Sally took a deep breath and silently wondered the same thing.

“Has she mentioned anything to you? About anything like this?” Scott persisted.

“No.”

“You’re her mother. Wouldn’t she come to you if she was having some sort of man trouble?”

The phrase man trouble hung in the space in front of her, glowing with electric anger between them. She didn’t want to respond.

“Yes. I presume so. But she hasn’t.”

“Well, when she was here visiting, did she say anything? Did you notice anything in her behavior?”