“Yes, Miss Baxter.” I pushed the door open to see a massage table in the middle of the room with Miss Baxter standing at the head of it. She was wearing her usual dark trouser suit, but the jacket was hanging over the back of a chair where Anise was seated and the sleeves of Miss Baxter’s shirt were rolled half way up her forearms.
It was brighter than I expected, too. I don’t know why that surprised me, but I guess I was expecting some kind of creepy dungeon with manacles and chains and other instruments of pain lining the walls. All I saw on the walls of Miss Baxter’s extra-curricular room were shallow blond wood cabinets, kind of like a doctor’s office.
“I hope you don’t mind that I’ve invited Anise. You two seem to get on well, and I thought it would be good for you to have a friendl
