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threatening?
    The door to her inner office slammed open.

 
    Chapter 5
     
    "It's not Eliot!" A gnome-like man burst into the room, eyes glazed, thin gray hair flying. "Didn't expect to see me, did you?"
    Leanne sighed, suddenly extremely tired.
    Bruce Hedlund. As long as he took his medication, he was a meek little man. Obviously he'd missed a few doses.
    "No, I didn't expect to see you," she said. "Your appointment isn't until next week."
    Dealing with Eliot and the multitude of emotions he evoked in her had left her exhausted. She wanted to go home, bask in the undemanding love of her little dog, then crawl into bed. She definitely did not feel up to dealing with Bruce Hedlund.
    He leaned over the desk, his face inches from hers. "You thought I wouldn't figure it out," he snarled.
    "What did you figure out, Bruce?"
    "The pills. You and my wife, you're trying to poison me. But I'm on to you. I'm not taking any more of them."
    Leanne rubbed at the knot in the back of her neck that always appeared toward the end of particularly trying days. "So you've stopped taking your medication. Bruce, your system is out of balance. You need those drugs. We've discussed this before."
    "No!"
    She jumped as he slammed a small hand onto the desk top. Bruce was prone to paranoid fantasies and hyperactivity, but he'd never before exhibited violent tendencies. For a brief moment she considered the fact that she was alone with this irrational man.
    Immediately she dismissed the thought. Why was she suddenly seeing danger at every turn? First the scene outside her house last night and now a man smaller than she. She could handle the situation by herself. That's what she was trained to do. She'd never feared a patient...before Eliot Kane.
    "Why don't you sit down, and we'll talk about this," she said, keeping her voice even.
    "No!" He snatched the letter opener from her desk and glared at her, his small eyes wild and unfocused.
    She had to make an effort to not to flinch. She must not allow him to have the upper hand. Moving slowly, maintaining eye contact, she rose to a standing position. "Sit down, Bruce," she ordered firmly.
    But he whirled away and charged across the room.
    "Don't spy on me!" he shouted, stabbing the drapes viciously and repeatedly though the letter opener didn't penetrate the smooth, heavy material. "You'll be sorry!" The threat, issued in his high-pitched voice, was almost comical. Almost.
    Leanne stood at her desk, her heart hammering against her ribs as a shiver of fear ran down her spine despite her best efforts to deny it. She had no choice but to face him down. She took a step closer though what she really wanted to do was back away.
    "Bruce Hedlund! Stop that this instant and sit down!"
    He turned toward her, arm upraised to strike again. His forehead wrinkled as if in concentration. Thank God! She seemed to be reaching him.
    At that moment Eliot charged through the door, his face stormy, and she gasped, taking an involuntary step backward. For a brief moment she thought he had returned to carry out his dream, that he would rush forward and grab her throat, and he frightened her far more than the disturbed little man stabbing her curtains.
    But Eliot headed straight for Bruce Hedlund. "Drop it!" he shouted as he grabbed Bruce's arms, forcing them behind the man, then wresting the letter opener from him.
    Leanne sagged into her chair, relief flooding through her—relief because Bruce had been taken care of and even greater relief because Eliot had come to rescue her, not to harm her.
    Eliot shoved a restraining knee in Bruce's back, but the action was unnecessary. The little man collapsed and began sobbing. Eliot released him, and he slid to the floor in a crumpled heap.
    "Are you all right? I saw this guy getting off the elevator when I was getting on. Just as the door was closing with me inside, I saw him heading for your office. I knew you were alone up here, and this guy seemed pretty upset, talking to himself and