Agent Brown
I’m frazzled and out of sorts, having been rushed earlier in the morning. More than that, I never really cared much about impressions and had never been the sort of person to worry too much about my appearance. So why now? I pull up to the hospital and stare up at the third floor. Nora Robertson is up there. Waiting. Detective Salve and I are escorting her home. The storm prevented her from getting a ride and seeing as Eve is going with her, which blows my mind, it seemed only right that we drive her. I want to secure her house and speak with the local PD about surveillance. Salve waves from the hospital entrance. I throw the car in park and kill the engine. My morning call with Dr. Richardson had been enlightening. She will continue to see Nora, they will meet halfway at an office one of Dr. Richardson’s colleagues offered up, twice a week until she feels Nora can cope in a healthy way. She mentioned Stockholm syndrome, which, if I’m honest, I never really bought into as a diagnosis.
How much damage can one man do to a young woman? “This is what happens when you poison other people’s minds with ideas. I mean, it’s amazing how an idea can take a hold and bring a person down.” I said.
Dr. Richardson raised her sorrow filled voice. “In chess, it’s called Zugzwang . . . when the only viable move . . . is not to move.” That really made me stop and think. Was Nora’s behavior simply a coping mechanism or was there more to it?
I’d hung up with more questions than answers. Salve hands me a coffee and up we go to the third floor.
Nora and I sit in the front seat, silently. Salve sips his coffee, occasionally filling the car with his slurping sounds from the back.
I look in the rearview mirror at him every time he does it.
Once we’re on the highway, I decide this is as good a time as any to talk to the girls. “Did Holden seem confused, intoxicated, or impaired in any way?”
Nora looks at Eve and then to me. “No, not at all. He knew exactly what was going on. He used to say, ‘sometimes you need to do something bad to stop you from doing something worse,’” she says, a dreamy look taking over her face.
I quell my desire to explain to her that her statement is wrong. “What was he like, then?”
“Compassionate. Dominant. I don’t know—like any other man.” Salve makes a choking sound and I suppress my quick reply. Eve stares out her window, hand tightly clasped in her lap.
“Okay, did you ever feel threatened by him?”
“Yes, there were times I was scared,” she says.
“Can you share an example?” I ask.
She shakes her head. She adjusts her seatbelt, then rubs the pads of her thumbs over her other fingers.
I blow out a frustrated sigh, and I look in the rearview at Eve. “Eve, how would you describe Holden?”
She holds my gaze in the mirror. “Brutal and dominant.” Her voice is flat. I notice Nora’s lips press into a thin line. How can both these girls have survived the same man and have such vastly different points of view?
The snow is a touch lighter now and everything is hazy and foggy as the temperature increases. Soon, it will just be rain. The car is enveloped in silence and the sound of the windshield wipers.
“I wrote letters in the dark and then burned them in the lantern flame. I needed to have something of my own. Something he couldn’t touch,” Nora says.
“I made drawings with Lotte and hid them in her mattress,” Eve replies. I don’t dare speak and apparently Salve feels the same way.
“I thought I understood it, that I could grasp it, but I didn’t, not really. Only the smudginess of it; semi-precious eagerness of it. I didn’t know, about the in-between parts; the gory bits of me and him. I wasn’t able to make sense of it or compartmentalize, so on that day, I made a lot of silly decisions,” Nora says.
“You’re so young, Nora. How could you possibly know how to handle a man like Holden?” I ask.
She snaps her head in my direction. “I don’t feel very young.”
“Well, you are. What day are you referring to?”
Nora goes back to staring out the window in silence. Salve rests a hand on my shoulder, which I shrug off.
Just under two hours later, when we pull up to the house, I am surprised.
“This is your house?” Eve gasps from the back.
“Don’t know how the media found out about this so quickly,” Salve growls, “but there’s going to be hell to pay when I find out who leaked it.” Salve looks tired, ready to go home, ready to be done with this case already. I don’t blame him. It’s been a long week.”
“Yes. This is my house. Don’t get excited, I didn’t buy it. My parents left it to me.”
“Girls,” I say, “When we exit the car, you stay between Salve and me. Do not speak to the reporters. Understood?”
Both girls say yes, as I pull into Nora’s driveway.