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appointment.
    I leaned against the door, looking down the hall. A middle-aged woman came out of an office wearing a flowered dress with little gold disks sewn onto the fabric. She walked over and handed me her card. “Hello, I’m Madame Louisa.”
    I glanced at the card. Ah, yes. The Psychic Advisor. “Harvey Kendall.”
    â€œIf you’re a friend of Hannah’s, I’ll give you a free fifteen-minute session.”
    â€œNot today, thanks. You know where Hannah is?”
    â€œShe’s gone every day from a little before one until about now.”
    â€œWhere’s she go?”
    Madame Louisa shrugged.
    Some psychic.
    I heard the sound of the building door opening and looked over to see Hannah hustling down the hall, swinging a shiny black leather briefcase. When Louisa saw her, she backed up and disappeared into her office.
    Hannah said, “Sorry I’m late.”
    â€œI hear you’re out every day around this time. Where do you go?”
    She glared at me. “Not relevant.”
    I put up my hands in surrender. “Sorry. Objection sustained.”
    She unlocked her office. I followed her inside. Hannah hit a wall switch and the fluorescent lights flickered on with a low buzz. The answering machine blinked angrily.
    Hannah said, “Sit.” She waved at the guest chair, where the stack of papers had grown larger since yesterday. I put them on the floor and sat down.
    Hannah opened her briefcase, pulled out a few sheets, and picked up a yellow pad. She stuck a ballpoint pen sideways in her mouth, rolled her desk chair around in front of mine, and sat facing me. As she crossed her legs, her skirt rose up her thigh.
    Hannah took the pen out of her mouth. “Okay,” she said, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes. “Let’s talk about your case. First, what’s Michael Nadler got to do with this?”
    I slid back in my seat. “What do you mean?”
    â€œI spoke to the cops. They said Nadler was asking about your case. What’s his involvement?”
    â€œNothing. My mother wanted him to represent me. I wanted you.”
    She narrowed her eyes. “Did you meet with him?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œI thought he was an arrogant sonofabitch.”
    Hannah’s face relaxed. “Good for you. Nadler is a scum-sucking publicity hound who puts his own interests in front of his clients’.”
    I smiled. “You don’t have to hold back your true feelings.”
    â€œSorry. That wasn’t very professional.”
    Memo to self: Do not piss off Hannah.
    She scribbled something on the yellow pad and said, “Tell me what you know about this.”
    â€œI never met Sherry Allen. I certainly didn’t kill her.”
    â€œUh-huh.” Her tone sounded like that was irrelevant. Without looking up from her notes, she said, “They found your semen in the dead girl.”
    I felt my breath catch. “Semen?!”
    She looked up at me. “Yes.”
    I realized my mouth was open. “Semen? That’s absurd.”
    â€œIt’s a perfect DNA match. Any idea how it could have happened?”
    I ran my fingers through my hair. “It didn’t happen. It’s ridiculous. It’s … impossible.”
    â€œAt the moment, it’s a fact.”
    I stood up and started pacing, shaking my head. “It has to be a lab mistake.”
    â€œPossible. Not likely. If you slept with her, that would explain the semen. It doesn’t mean you killed her.”
    â€œI didn’t sleep with her. I never met her.” In reality , the only woman in my life for the last six months is my bird, Lisa.
    Hannah said, “Do you have an identical twin? That could explain the DNA.”
    â€œNo. Only one of me.”
    â€œIs there anything that could connect you to this girl?”
    â€œNo.”
    She looked at me. “You sure?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œMaybe you knew her