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deepened. “We’ll just hold off on this for now. You’re not going to be hysterical.”
    “I’m not?”
    “You’re not.”
    She felt the telltale tickle at the back of her throat that presaged a panic attack. “I think you’re wrong.”
    “Stop that, you’ll hyperventilate or some such thing.” Straining for patience, he crouched in front of her. “Look at me now, breathe slowly. Just breathe slowly.”
    “Can’t.”
    “Yes, you can. You’re not hurt, are you? Got a mess on your hands is all.”
    “Someone broke into my room.”
    “That’s right, but that’s done. You gobbling down tranquilizers isn’t going to change it. What about your passport, any valuables. Important papers.”
    Because he made her think instead of react, the constriction on her chest loosened. She shook her head. “I have my passport with me all the time. I don’t travel with anything really valuable. But my laptop—”
    “You’ll buy another, won’t you?”
    Put that way, she could only nod. “Yes.”
    He got up to close the door. “Do you want to call security?”
    “Yes, of course. The police.”
    “Take a minute to be sure. You’re in a foreign country. A police report’ll generate a lot of red tape, take a lot of time and trouble. And there’d be publicity, I’d imagine.”
    “But . . . someone broke into my room.”
    “Maybe you should go through your things.” He kept his voice calm and practical as he thought it the best way to handle her. It was the way his own mother handled temper fits, and what was hysteria but a kind of temper?
    “Make sure exactly what was taken.” He glanced around, then toed a little white machine with his foot. “What’s this?”
    “Air purifier.” When he picked it up, set it on the desk, she got shakily to her feet. “I can’t understand why anyone would do all this for a laptop computer.”
    “Maybe they were hoping for more.” He wandered to the door of the bathroom, glanced in.
    He’d already decided the Finns deserved some sort of grand prize for the luxury of their baths. Hers, being that her room was plusher, was more spacious than his, but his didn’t lack for details.
    The heated floor tiles, the jet tub, the glory of the six-headed shower and towels thick and big as blankets. On her long tiled counter he saw a half dozen pill bottles, most of which proved to be some sort of vitamin or herbal remedy. There was an electric toothbrush, a travel candle, a tube of antibacterial cream. Packets of something called N-ER-G and more packets of something called D-Stress. He counted eight bottles of mineral water.
    “You’re a bit of a case, aren’t you, darling?”
    She ran a hand over her face. “Traveling’s stressful, it’s hard on the system. I have allergies.”
    “Do you now? Why don’t I help you set this place back to rights, then you can take one of your pills and get some sleep.”
    “I couldn’t possibly sleep. I need to call hotel security.”
    “All right.” It was no skin off his nose, really, and would put more of a hitch in her stride than his. Obliging, he went to the phone and called the front desk to relay the situation.
    He even stayed with her when management and security came. He patted her hand while she spoke to them, cooperatively gave his own version of the evening and his name and address, his passport number.
    He had, essentially, nothing to hide.
    It was nearly two A.M. before he made it back to his own room. He had a long, neat whiskey. Brooded over another.
    When Tia woke the next morning, muzzy-brained, he was gone. All that was left to assure her he’d existed in the first place was a note slipped under her door.
    Tia, I hope you’re feeling steadier this morning. I’m sorry but I’ve had to change my plans and will have already left Helsinki when you read this. The best of luck with the rest of your traveling. I’ll be in touch when I can. Malachi.
    She sighed, sat on the edge of the bed and decided she’d never see