Chapter Twenty-Nine
Logan and Drake were clearly unwelcome guests in Dr. Marilyn Bartlett’s office. Annoyed that she’d had to move appointments around to accommodate them and their court order, she still greeted them politely when they showed up at the prison the next day.
Like the last time he’d met with her, her office was only marginally more colorful and happy than the rest of the institution. Her gray walls were decorated with diplomas and her desk had that same sad little potted plant but that was the extent of the personalization. As before, she was dressed in a navy blue skirt and blazer and the same shoes with the sensible heel. He couldn’t help but wonder how many of those blue suits and shoes she had at home in her wardrobe.
Dr. Bartlett pointed to two boxes of letters that were stacked next to her desk. The boxes were large and heavy, indicating that there were far too many lonely and troubled women out there who would write to a convicted serial killer.
“The boxes contain the incoming mail. Wade hasn’t answered many letters,” the psychologist said, lifting a thick folder from a drawer in the filing cabinet. “We scan and read all outgoing mail. These are copies of all of his correspondence outside of the prison. I doubt you’ll find anything interesting in there. Nor will you find anything of substance in his incoming letters. I’ve read them all and they’re harmless.”
“What about his visitors?” Logan asked. “Have any of the women come to visit him? We’d like to get a copy of his visitor logs.”
Dr. Bartlett shook her head. “Sadly, you won’t find them helpful either. He’s had few visitors. He refuses most of them. He allowed his family at first but then no one except his attorney. You’re the first in a long time, Mr. Wright. I’m hoping that’s a sign that he’s perhaps turned a corner and is becoming more social.”
This woman was an optimist. An unsmiling, rigid, chilly optimist.
“We’d still like a copy,” Drake replied, tapping the signed court order they’d placed on the good doctor’s desk. “We’ll wait.”
“No need,” Dr. Bartlett said dismissively. “I assumed that you would want them. I pulled everything together when I received your message this morning. I was simply trying to save you some work. You won’t get any help from his visitor history. The logs are already in the box.”
This woman was so cold she ought to be followed around by a parade of penguins. “You don’t think much of our theory.”
She made a small shrugging motion with her shoulder. “It’s not for me to say. You’re the law enforcement officers. I have no experience there. My job is to aid in the rehabilitation of prisoners. When that isn’t possible I help them learn to modify their behavior so they can function behind these walls.”
“But you do have experience with troubled, lost people,” Logan pressed. “You can’t say that there isn’t a history of women helping men in prison.”
“A small history. It seems like more because it makes the news. But it makes the news, Mr. Wright, because it’s a rather rare occurrence. That doesn’t mean that you aren’t correct, however. There absolutely could be someone out there who wanted Wade Bryson’s approval. Who might kill to please him.”
“Wade would certainly love that.”
She folded her hands together and placed them on the desk. “I’ve been working with Wade Bryson for over five years now and I hope he’s moved past that point. He has made progress.”
Logan didn’t want to burst the woman’s bubble but that was bullshit. She probably had to believe that to be able to come in here every day and do her job, but Wade was no better than the day Logan had arrested him. He might even be worse, if it was possible. He’d been bragging about being worshipped by people. That sounded like the same old Wade who had wanted to be a hero and catch criminals. Nothing had really changed, only the venue.
“That’s good to hear,” Logan said, not wanting to rock the boat. She’d been very cooperative about them basically messing up her day. “We need more dedicated individuals such as yourself in the criminal justice system.”
He could say that with total truth. They did need more people like Marilyn Bartlett. Many more. Wade was a lost cause but there were others on the inside who just needed a helping hand and someone who cared.
For a moment Logan thought he saw the wisp of a smile. Maybe she wasn’t so frosty after all. She probably had to act that way in here just to get any respect.
“Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to help your investigation. As I said, I don’t think you’ll find anything in those letters but I hope that I’m wrong.”
“We really do appreciate your help.” Logan hefted one of the boxes under his arm. “I’m sorry that we didn’t give you more notice.”
Dr. Bartlett stood and nodded. “Thank you. Will you be visiting Wade Bryson again, Mr. Wright?”
Would he? An interesting question that he hadn’t thought about until now.
“Maybe. I need to do more research but there is a possibility. Why do you ask?”
“To prepare him. After your last visit, Wade acted out during dinner. He spent a few days in solitary.”
Drake frowned. “I thought you said you were hopeful that he was progressing?”
“Progression doesn’t happen in a straight line. The fact that Wade expressed any emotion at all after seeing Mr. Wright is a huge step in the right direction. Now he needs to work on showing emotion in an acceptable way. Two steps forward, one step back.”
Logan didn’t want to make her job any harder than it already was. “I promise to contact you if I need to speak with him again. How does that sound?”
Another almost smile. Heck, she might be thawing toward him a little.
“That’s very kind of you. Thank you. Can I get someone to help you with the boxes?”
Shaking his head, Drake hefted the second box under his arm. “Thank you, Doctor, but we’ve got this.”
Did they have it? A clue that could finally move this case forward? Logan was as hopeful as he’d been since arriving in Corville. He had a good feeling about this.