Travellers in Magic by Lisa Goldstein Page A

I should and shouldn’t eat, and a pamphlet on abortion. “Do you need to talk to someone?” she asks. “I can recommend a good counselor.”
    I can’t remember the number of times I’ve said the same thing to my clients. I’ve always prided myself on my ability to manage my own life, to stay out of the kinds of messes my clients seem to get into. I shake my head.
    Dora Green is waiting for me in front of my office. I nod to her and unlock the door. “I wanted to know if you made any progress,” she says.
    I feel very weary. It’s far too early for her to expect results. I motion her inside the office and sit at my desk. “I’m sorry,” she says, taking the chair opposite me. Today she’s wearing a green print dress that’s even busier than her skirt, more leaves and flowers and what looks like little animals peering through the foliage. “I should have waited.”
    â€œYour daughter seems to have moved, and she’s stopped going to classes,” I say. “Other than that, I can’t tell you anything yet.”
    She nods. Her calm expression does not change. I wonder if she’s had the same thought I had, that her daughter is dead, killed by her husband. Satanic rituals, I think.
    â€œI’m meeting someone for lunch,” she says. “You must be hungry too. Can I get you something to eat?”
    You’re supposed to eat enough for two when you’re pregnant, but at the same time you’re usually sick to your stomach. Just another example, I think, of how impossible the whole thing is. “I’ve already eaten,” I say.
    For a moment I think she knows I’m lying; worse, that she knows everything about me, including where I went this morning. I have never felt this way about any of my clients; usually it’s the clients who feel the need to justify their behavior.
    â€œCome with me anyway,” she says, smiling a little.
    The animals on her print dress are moving. I shake my head, trying to focus, but the hallucination doesn’t go away. A badger or something shoulders aside a flowering vine and pads forward, its nose twitching.
    I look away. I’d better eat something. “All right,” I say, and we head out into the street.
    She stops at a restaurant a few blocks from my office, and we go inside. I have never seen this place before; probably it’s new. There are posters of flowers on the walls, and vases filled with bright flowers at the table.
    Her friend is already there. “This is Mickey,” Ms. Green says as we sit down. “Mickey, this is Liz Keller.”
    Mickey nods at me, amused at something. He is slender, with curly blond hair and light gray eyes. There is a slight family resemblance, and for a moment I think he is Carolyn’s brother. But surely Ms. Green would have told me if there were others in the family. I wonder who he is, how they know each other.
    The waitress comes soon afterward. I study the menu, trying to remember the list of food the doctor gave me. I could use a cup of coffee, but I’m almost certain the doctor would disapprove. “I’ll have some tea,” I say.
    The waitress takes the rest of the orders and leaves. “How do you know Ms. Green?” I ask Mickey.
    â€œWe’re related,” he says. “Cousins. What about you? How do you know her?”
    â€œShe’s hired me in a professional capacity,” I say. It’s all I can tell him without breaking my client’s confidentiality.
    â€œAh,” Mickey says. “You’re the new detective.”
    â€œNew detective?” I say, looking at Ms. Green. The animals on her dress are motionless now, thank God. “You didn’t tell me about this. What happened to the old one?”
    â€œShe wasn’t very good,” Ms. Green says.
    â€œAnd time is running out, isn’t it?” Mickey says.
    â€œWhat do you mean?” I ask.
    We’re