Or maybe he was just trying to convince himself that his beautiful girl wasn’t really insane.
CHAPTER 22
Past
“I WILL KILL him, I swear to God I will.”
“Deanna, you don’t mean that.” Dr. Derek’s voice was, like always, balm. Too bad he was trying to apply it to sandpaper.
“You’ve worried about me killing for four years, why are you so calm now?!” I shrieked the words, the switchblade still in my hand, the blade handle cool and comforting in my grip. I paused beside my bed and stabbed at a pillow, the puncture quick and smooth. I stopped and held up the blade, impressed. Damn. Well worth the six-hundred-dollar price tag.
“Believe it or not, this emotion is a good thing, Deanna.”
He needed to stop saying my name. It’s like there was a page in his psychology textbook that he was stuck on, in the Say the Client’s Name chapter. “Stop saying my name.”
“Jealousy is a perfectly normal human emotion. It’s good that you care for another person enough to be jealous. It’s a reminder of the world outside your apartment.”
“I don’t need to be reminded of the world outside my apartment. I’m in no danger of forgetting it.” Forgetting? It’s my obsession, second to my thoughts of death. Third to my new thoughts of jealousy.
“The negative is how you are turning your anger into violence. That’s what we want to avoid.”
Obviously. I stabbed the pillow again. A puff of air resulted, blowing the ends of my hair slightly. If only pillows bled.
CHAPTER 23
Present
JessReilly19: Mike
JessReilly19: u there?
HackOffMyCock: hey bb
JessReilly19: is this chat secure?
HackOffMyCock: not really
HackOffMyCock: let’s cam instead
HackOffMyCock: there’s something about schoolgirl plaid that helps too
JessReilly19: don’t be an ass. Seriously, is it secure?
HackOffMyCock: yeah. What’s up 007?
JessReilly19: cops showed up today
HackOffMyCock: about what?
JessReilly19: I’m not sure. They didn’t say.
HackOffMyCock: you didn’t ask?
HackOffMyCock: hello?
HackOffMyCock: u there?
JessReilly19: sorry. Someone called. Anyone come by to see you?
HackOffMyCock: nope.
JessReilly19: let me know if they do.
HackOffMyCock: u know it. U need me to do anything?
JessReilly19: no. Thx
HackOffMyCock: chat this week?
JessReilly19: yeah.
HackOffMyCock: your enthusiasm is a little out of control. Rein that shit in.
JessReilly19: :) *dancing excitedly* *hanging up my I Love Mike poster*
JessReilly19: better?
HackOffMyCock: better. *unzips pants*
JessReilly19: lol. Stop.
HackOffMyCock: *frowns in a sexy manner*
JessReilly19: *raises her middle finger*
HackOffMyCock: *gets hard*
JessReilly19: OMG STOP or else I’ll start charging you.
HackOffMyCock: *making it rain with Benjamins*
JessReilly19: BYE
HackOffMyCock: BYE *tucking gigantic cock back into pants*
---CHAT ENDED: JessReilly19 has left room
CHAPTER 24
Present
DETECTIVE BRENDA BOLES sits at her desk, a crowded space with forgotten paperwork, each case more important than the last, her weakness time management. Hidden behind the stacks, three coffee cups, handmade gifts from her kids, their touch in the formed clay, the brightly painted surfaces, the names painstakingly dug into the sides. One for each child: Matthew, Sage, and Bricen. At one time, she’d attempted to drink from them. Now they collect pens, scissors, and rulers. She glances at one and notices the thin layer of dust across its surface. Rubs a finger across the top of it as the call connects, the dull ring humming in her ear. She closes her eyes and lets out a long breath. Rolls her neck. So much left to do today. No chance of leaving soon, not with cases like this on her desk. A freakin’ jigsaw puzzle, each new pry into Deanna Madden’s life bringing up more questions. Hopefully this call will yield some answers.
“Hello?”
At the man’s voice, she pries an eye open. “Dr. Vanderbilt?”
“Yes. May I help you?”
“This is Detective Brenda Boles from the Tulsa Police Department. Is this a good time?”
“It is. How can I help you?” The man’s voice is deep and calm, the type a tired mother of three would love to crawl into and confess all her woes.
“I have some questions about one of your patients. Deanna Madden?”
Complete silence. She pushes the phone against her ear. “Dr. Vanderbilt? Are you there?”
“I thought you were calling from the Tulsa City Police Department.”
“Yes. I’m a detective. Brenda Boles.”
“May I ask what your interest is in Deanna?”
Deanna. Interesting. “She’s a suspect in an investigation we are conducting.”
“In Tulsa?”
God, this guy, for his incredible voice, is denser than dirt. “Yes.”
“But Deanna lives in Utah.”
“I just left her apartment. I can assure you that she lives in Tulsa.”
There is another long moment of silence before he speaks again. “I see. I must have been confused. What is your question?”
“We found clozapine in her apartment, which you prescribed to her.”
“Yes. She’s had that prescription for several years.”
“What is it supposed to treat?” She spins in her chair, tapping her pen on the arm of the chair.
“I’m bound by doctor/patient confidentiality, Detective Boles, a fact that I am sure you are aware of.” She raises her eyebrows at the tone, which has taken a hard turn.
“I’m just trying to get to the truth, Dr. Vanderbilt.”
“Please call me Derek. May I ask what you are investigating?”
She spins a paperclip and debates what to share. “No, you may not.” He won’t share his goods, she won’t share hers.
“Have you arrested Deanna?”
“Not yet. But it’s not for lack of trying, Derek.” The name comes out incredibly awkward, like the first time she introduced herself by her married name. She shouldn’t have said it, should have stuck to Dr. Vanderbilt. Shouldn’t be trying to picture the man with the sexy voice. That’s what she gets for… God, how long has it been? A month without sex? Her marriage will crumble if this keeps up. Other than sex and children, there isn’t much they have in common. She draws a line on the piece of paper before her and tries to remember where this conversation had been going.
The man on the other end coughs. “Will she need a psych evaluation?”
David’s frame appears on the far side of the room, his head turning left as he speaks to another badge and she stands, the phone captured in the crook of her shoulder, waving to catch his attention. “Oh, I think she’ll need a lot of things. I’d keep your phone on.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful, Brenda.”
“Me too.”
She hangs up the phone and rolls her neck, grimacing through a smile as David approaches.
“Get the doc?”
“Sure did. He clammed up, wouldn’t give anything. But an interesting side note, he was under the impression that she lived in Utah. So maybe we can call over, do some digging, see if she lived or raised any hell there.”