Design on a Crime (21 page)

"Okay," I told Midas. "Looks like I need a tune-up. Better get my gear and hustle to the dojo. And Tyler better not
have some wimpy Tai Chi class going on. I want to kick and
scream today."

I grabbed my bag, jumped in my Honda, and then zipped
down the street. I turned right at the end of Puget Way, left on
Pacific Drive, left again on Cedar Road, and finally squeaked
a parking spot right across from Tyler's emporium of selfdefense and sanity.

"Score!" The giddiness lingered. I hoped it lasted long
enough to see me through the pounding of a bag, powerful
kicks to man-height pads, lunges and parries, and the renewed sense of control.

I needed that today.

Tyler didn't disappoint. Johnny Weil was teaching a kickboxing class. "Just what the doctor ordered," I told him as I
hurried to the back of the group.

Johnny, who wore his hair bleached into a two-tone spikedhigh Mohawk, gave me a weird look. "Whatever cleans your
clock, Haley."

After we stretched and warmed up, I collared my nervous
energy and fought like a woman possessed. No one got a jump on me. I could tell when I'd psyched them out enough to go
in for the kill; I sniffed out their weaknesses. I took control
of the class, and aside from Johnny, who, as teacher, didn't
spar, I took everyone down.

When I stood in the center of the room, triumphant, breathless, and drenched in sweat, I spotted Tyler out of the corner
of my eye. "Pretty good, don't ya think, sensei?"

"I think you'd better come into my office."

Great. He had more bad news for me. But today I was on
a high. No one was going to bring me down. I walked into
Asian World, as many of us called Tyler's lair, a cocky spring
to my step.

Although Tyler took the corner of the couch, I was too
pumped to sit still. I felt like a lioness, the undisputed queen
of the jungle. I paced the long, narrow room from end to
end.

When I felt ready for whatever he threw my way, I faced
Tyler. "What's up?"

"The jig, Haley. The jig's up."

"Huh?"

"I've watched you play this game for years now, but Lila
called me last night-"

"She shouldn't have arrested me-"

"That's not the issue, and you know it. I talked to your
dad after I saw you go ballistic out there. If the others in class
weren't as advanced as they are, you would've sent someone
to the hospital today-"

"You're nuts! I was just better than everyone else today.
And I didn't hurt anyone."

"By the grace of God, and not because you didn't try."

I went to object again, but the look he gave me brought me
up short. I bit my bottom lip.

"You have a problem," he said, "and you have to do something about it. I'm not worried about you going to jail over
Marge's murder. Lila'11 find the killer, I promise you that."

He stood, came between me and the door. For a moment I
feared his strength. Anger, disappointment, and power radiated from him in wave after wave after wave.

His voice, though soft, came laced with steel. "Ever since
Marge brought you here four years ago, I've watched you.
Yeah, what happened to you back then stinks, but you had
a choice afterward. You could deal with it and go on and
do something good with your life, or you could run from
reality."

I glared. "I haven't run from anything, and I've done something good with my life. I've made it to brown belt and am
on my way to black. No one's going to beat me up again. I
even finished my interior design degree. I've opened my
business, and Gussie's hired me. I'd say I've done some good
stuff with my life."

"None of that's going to count in the long run. Especially
not when the past still eats you up inside. You can't fight
these accusations if you're still fighting demons from four
years ago."

"Stop it! Just don't say anything more."

Ice chilled my veins. My hands shook. Red dots danced
before my eyes, but a blurry kind of black swallowed them up.
I fought the urge to vomit, and I wrapped my arms around
myself.

"You don't know what it's like to be me." Each word hurt more to get out than the last. "You don't know what it's like
to be pinned, to be slammed again and again, for a hand to
squeeze your throat, to know you're about to die because
someone else wants something from you and they won't let
you get in their way."

Helplessness burned deep in my soul. I gasped from the
pain. When I could no longer hold the panic down, a cry tore
free and I crumpled to the floor.

Did I black out? Did my brain take pity on me and shut
down so I didn't have to relive the attack? I'll never know
for sure, but I know I thrashed out with my arms and legs,
fought the battle I'd lost four years ago. But this time, the
man who victimized me was long gone. Tyler took a beating
for that pig.

I only know that after a while I realized that Tyler had
pinned me to the floor. His body covered mine, and his
hands and feet kept me from flailing anymore. Even though
he was in control, I had no strength to do anything about it.
Besides, somewhere in the bowels of my mind, I realized
Tyler would never hurt me. He was a rarity among men-he
was a friend.

"Oh, Tyler..."

"Come on, girl. You know you can't go on like this." He
rolled off and sat at my side.

I sobbed.

He stood, his feet shoulder-width apart. He held a hand
out to me. "It's time you did something about this. Take my
hand, Haley. Let me help you get your life back. You know
you can trust me, you can trust the reverend, you can even
trust Lila Tsu."

An automatic objection rushed to my lips, but I was trembling so much that I couldn't get it out. Tyler took advantage
of my rare silence.

"No one, I mean no one, not me, not you, not any old person
on this ugly old earth, can go it alone."

I tried to argue, but it came out like a moan.

He went on. "When you're sick, you go to a doctor. I know
you do, because you've told me."

Tyler waited for me to respond, but I could only moan
again. Even though I knew his compassion, he was dishing
out his just as well-known tough love.

"You gotta get over this I-can-do-it-all-by-myself kick.
You're sick inside, and not because of anything you did. But
it will be on your shoulders if you do nothing about it. It's
time to find a soul doctor and get some healing going on."

His words deflated any argument I might have mustered.
I couldn't deny three meltdowns, one after the other.

"You're right." Fear made my teeth chatter so hard that I
heard them hit each other. "I'm sick inside, and I don't know
what to do about it anymore."

"First thing you gotta do, Haley, is take my hand. Get yourself up off that floor. Then look around you. Tell me what
you see."

I didn't want to move. I wanted to curl up into a ball, grow
a shell around me, one that could withstand a missile strike.
That's it. I wanted to be a nuclear missile silo, impervious to
attack, full of enough weapons that no enemy would strike
first.

But you can't always get what you want. More than ever, I
knew what the song really meant. I didn't think I'd ever hear it the same way again. And if Dutch used it as a stupid joke,
Imight ... ah...I'd ...

For the longest moment, I couldn't think of a thing that
might teach Dutch some respect for those who suffered violence or the death of dreams. Then I had an idea, a brilliant
one too. If he ever tried to joke about ruined hopes again, I'd
take out my mace and zap him.

Just the thought gave me the strength to meet Tyler's
gaze. His hand still waited for me. He'd never moved,
never wavered in his determination to help me. Mom's
and Dad's words rang in my mind. "You have to reach out
and take hold of that hand. It's waiting to help you get back on
your feet. "

True, they'd meant God's hand, but they'd also talked of
accepting the help others wanted to give me. Fighting fear
with everything I had, I picked my arm up from the floor.

"Go ahead, Haley." Tyler's voice rang firm and encouraging. "Take my hand. Let me help you find your way back
from the hell you've been in. There's hope, girl. And there
are many of us who want to help you find it again."

Marge had said it.

Mom and Dad had too.

Even Detective Tsu had tried to make me see it.

Problem was, I knew nothing beyond the pain and the
fear, beyond the stench of man's evil and the agony of God's
betrayal.

Could I do it? Could I reach out and let others in?

It would take a lot from me, probably all I had.

It would take what I most lacked.

It would take faith ... trust.

But I couldn't go on like this. I'd come to a turning point
in my life. Whatever I did next would determine my future
more than the capture of Marge's killer would. Which way
should I turn?

I took Tyler's hand.

Faced with a new wardrobe dilemma, I chose another long
cotton skirt and T-shirt to wear. Why didn't anybody tell a
woman what she should wear to meet her new shrink?

I wasn't so sure about this whole spill-my-guts deal, but
everyone else seemed to think I'd about achieved world
peace by agreeing to meet the woman. Their reaction made
me more willing to consider that maybe I really did need a
psychologist's help.

I drove to the Sound and Sea Medical Building, my stomach
in more knots than even my wild hair. Tyler had given me the
shrink's name; she was a friend of his wife. Aside from that,
he'd said nothing about the woman herself.

I knew she was a licensed counselor, that she shared Tyler's
religious fervor, and that she wasn't Asian American like his
wife, Sarah. At least, no Asian American I knew had a name
like Teodora Rodriguez.

A blond guy about my age sat at the desk in the waiting
room. I gave him my name, and he checked his computer
screen. "You haven't been here before, have you?"

What gave him the first clue? That he'd never seen me until today, or maybe it was my twisting fingers and darting
glances. I was curious about the place, unhappy about being
here, and looking for an escape route. I thought of Dad, Mom,
Gussie, Tyler, Marge ... there was no escape.

"Ah ... no. You're right."

"You'll have to fill these out. Dr. Rodriguez will be with
you as soon as you're done."

The door to his left opened. "It's all right, Ryan," the slender
brunette said. "I've been expecting Haley. She can come right
in, and we can take care of the paperwork while we talk."

What had Tyler told her that she'd break with office procedure just to get me in her inquisitive clutches? I wanted out
even more than before.

But I'd recently learned one thing. I kept my mouth shut.

The look she gave me carried a load of humor. "Ty told me
to expect the unexpected from you, but silence was the one
thing he said I shouldn't expect."

"Tyler Colby thinks he knows everything."

"He does know everything often enough to be a little
scary."

I laughed. "That's true."

She grinned, then stepped aside and waited for me to walk
into her office. "Look, I know you didn't want to come, that
your friends and family had to practically twist your arm to
get you to make the call for the appointment."

"Face it," I countered on the defensive, "you're not exactly
in the fun industry here. I doubt you're anybody's idea of a
beautiful day in the neighborhood."

"True. But how many beautiful days have you had in your
neighborhood lately?"

Surprisingly bright blue eyes sparkled at me, and although
I didn't relax, at least I stopped looking to bolt. "Touche. So
are you going to bring the sunshine back?"

"I'm going to help you see that the sunshine was there all
along."

I snorted. "Maybe in your neighborhood."

"We only live a few blocks apart."

"Not hardly. No woman wants my address. Trust me."

"I was told I could. Have you heard you can trust me
too?"