HARRY LYLE WAS a tall, portly man with receding hair and a good tan. He wore a blue pin-striped double-breasted suit and a white shirt with a white silk tie. He watched closely as Sunny sat down and crossed her legs.
Good sign, Sunny thought.
"How can I help you, Ms. Painter," he said.
"Mrs. Painter," Sunny said. "Mrs. Elwood Painter."
Lyle nodded.
"Very well," he said. "Mrs. Painter, how may I help?"
"I… It's my son."
He nodded kindly.
"What about your son?" he said.
"He's left home."
"Oh?"
"He's joined a cult," Sunny said. "I want him out of it."
"Kids, huh?" Lyle said. "How old is he?"
"Eighteen."
"Okay."
"He's not old enough to be on his own with a bunch of Bible-thumpers," Sunny said.
"I'm sure you're right," Lyle said.
"Can you help me?" Sunny said. "Can we get a court order or something?"
"Might take some doing, at his age," Lyle said. "How did you happen to come to me?"
"A friend," Sunny said. "Of a friend."
"They have names?"
Sunny shook her head.
"They told me that you had experience with adolescent rebellion, and they made me promise not to tell anyone they'd told me." Sunny smiled and leaned forward and lowered her voice a little. "I think they don't want anyone to know that they had problems with their children."
"People often don't," Lyle said. "Everyone has problems. No need to be ashamed."
"I know," Sunny said. "But I promised."
"Well, arrangements for something like this," Lyle said, "can be expensive."
"Money is not a problem," Sunny said. "Elwood has a great deal of money."
"If there's enough," Lyle said, "it's possible to arrange something."
"Can you take him away from these people?" Sunny said.
"It might be arranged," Lyle said.
"If you did, how would we keep him from going back?" Sunny said. "We can't just lock him in his room."
"There's a residential treatment center in Westland," Lyle said. "He might find the proper treatment."
"Is this all legal?" Sunny said.
"Absolutely," Lyle said. "Right papers, right judge, we can get him committed to the Rackley Young Adult Center."
"In Westland?"
"Yes," Lyle said. "It's a secure facility."
"My God," Sunny said. "I don't know. I need to talk with Elwood."
"Of course," Lyle said. "Is there somewhere I can reach you?"
Sunny stood and smiled.
"I'll call you," she said.
She put out her hand. He took it in his right and covered it with his left and shook it warmly.
"I can help you," he said.
"I think you can," Sunny said. "I just have to talk with Elwood."
Lyle held her hand for another moment, then released it as if he didn't want to, and Sunny left the office and took the elevator down to the parking garage.