The Night, The Day by Andrew Kane Read Free Book Online Page B

that. And something about him that wanted to give it a try.

    Cheryl Manning entered her apartment, turned on the light, went directly to the phone in her living room and dialed a Manhattan number. “It’s me,” she told the man at the other end.
    “Everything okay?”
    “All is proceeding according to plan.”
    “You’ve made contact?”
    “Yes, he’s actually… rather charming.”
    “What?”
    “No need to worry. I have it under control. He doesn’t suspect a thing.”
    “Just be careful. And don’t get involved.”
    “I never do.”
    “This time things are different.”
    “This time is no different than any other time,” she said. “I’ll do the job the way I always do.”
    There was a brief hesitation, then the other voice said, “Good then, keep us posted about developments. We’ll see you in a few days.”
    “Okay. Take care.”
    “Yes, will do. You too.”

chapter 6
    M artin Rosen suppressed a yawn. He was finding it difficult to concentrate on his first patient of the day. The past few nights had been fraught with tossing, turning, and ruminating over just about everything: Katherine, Elizabeth, Nancy Hartledge of San Francisco, and the newest member of the cast, Cheryl Manning. It had already been a few days since he’d met her, but she was still fresh in his mind.
    “You okay, Doc?” the man on the couch across from him asked.
    “Pardon?”
    “I asked if you’re all right.”
    Embarrassed, Martin snapped back to reality. “Yes, I’m fine,” he said, sounding a bit tentative. He looked at the clock. Five minutes remaining to the session. He’d spent close to an hour with this man and hadn’t offered a thing.
    “You sure? ‘Cause you don’t seem yourself today.”
    Martin realized that he should have known better than to try to fool this particular patient. “I’m sorry, Dan. I’ve been having a few long nights, not much sleep.”
    “I know the feeling, Doc, believe me.”
    Martin looked at his patient and smiled. Dan Gifford had been seeing him for just over a year. Their relationship was good, perhaps one of the best doctor-patient relationships Martin had ever had. Martin even occasionally speculated on how they might have wound up great friends, had they met under other circumstances.
    Dan Gifford felt a similar connection, which was what kept him coming back. He’d been to two other therapists before Martin, and neither had lasted beyond three sessions. He was about to give up the search, when a friend from AA gave him Martin’s card.
    When he first started seeing Martin, Dan Gifford had six months of sobriety under his belt. At 46, he was the Chief Assistant District Attorney of the organized crime bureau of the Queens County DA’s office, where he’d worked for the past twenty years. His daily existence was a deluge of stress and, while he had been thriving professionally, his personal life was in shambles. His drinking problem, the last vestige of a serious mixed substance-abuse habit that he’d picked up during the Vietnam War, had lingered long beyond the opiates, which he had managed to kick as soon as he returned home. He discovered later, in his treatment with Martin, that the alcohol had really been a deeper problem, one that had started long before the war, during his teenage years and maybe even earlier. His father and grandfather had also been alcoholics.
    The actual reason Dan had sought therapy went beyond the alcohol. His wife had gotten involved in Al-Anon while he was still drinking, and had left with their 6-year-old son about a month before he started going to AA meetings. Dan wanted them back and knew he had a lot more to work on than just giving up booze. Enter Martin Rosen.
    Dan appreciated Martin’s perspective on things, the shrink’s wry sense of humor, and that Martin knew what it was like to lose a wife and child. In the time that they had known each other, Dan had learned that Martin enjoyed golf, fine food, action movies, and an