Chapter 22
M
Confessions were nothing more than admission of one’s guilt. Even when done out of a helpful nature, it was still acknowledging wrong-doing in one way or another. To confess was to purge. The action washed away the burden on the conscience and most felt immediately better afterward. I didn’t. I was pissed.
“I would like to report a crime.”
“Excuse me? That’s why you had me called away from the scene? You can do that at the station,” Detective Casey ground out. “I’m busy. Can’t you see that?”
Rage pushed through every part of me as I tried to appear the concerned doctor. Cop cars blocked off roads, and I was barely able to make it through to get an officer to retrieve Anna’s detective. “It’s not a crime like that. I think you’ll want to hear this. I got a call last night. It appears you have my client in custody.”
“Your client?”
Interest sparked in his tone as Detective Casey moved closer.
“That’s right. Daniel Stracht.” I removed the glasses to give him view of my black eyes from Lucy. “I let him go yesterday. He had become too unstable and was impossible to work with. His past…I fear he may have something to do with these missing girls. I fear…” my voice choked up. “Please tell me that’s not Lucy.”
“No. Jesus.” His head whipped around as he motioned for a middle-aged heavy-set guy. The man looked between us as he approached. He was reading me. Gauging who I was and trying to figure out my character. “Diego, I need to take this. Stracht might be our guy. This is the doctor I was telling you about. Our suspect’s doctor.”
“Oh shit. We got this here. Go ahead.”
“Thanks. Come with me, Dr. Patron. Can you follow me to the station?”
“Of course.”
Playing the dutiful psychiatrist had never been a problem for me. I kept the “need” to help plastered all over my face. Even as I followed the detective past Anna and her news crew, I never let the façade drop.
What the fuck had Daniel been thinking? Idiot. This was not how my plan was supposed to go down. He wasn’t meant to get caught yet. Sure, they could possibly let him go, but with him calling me from the jail, I had no choice but to end this now. It was my fault anyway. I should have met him. I should have never belittled the man and pushed him in Anna’s direction. His personality couldn’t handle being goaded. Daniel felt the need to prove himself. Not just to himself, but to me.
“Dr. Patron?”
Boston’s voice cut right through me. As he jogged up, I played my part even more.
“Boston. I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry? Is it—”
Horror drew in his features. My eyes flew open, and I reached for his shoulder. “No. No, it’s not her. I’m afraid I do know who might have taken her though, and I’m a fool for not seeing it before now.”
Hope. It had Boston reaching for my arm.
“You know who has Lucy! Who?”
“Doctor.”
At Detective Casey’s threatening tone, I reached up, removing and squeezing the hand gripping me. “I have to take care of this. I’ll call you when I’m done.”
All I got was a nod as different emotions flickered over his handsome face. Come tomorrow, he’d be devastated. And me…maybe I would be a little too. After all, Lucy had come so far in the time I had her. She didn’t even argue or cry when I put her in cuffs.
Reaching the side road, I got in my car, watching the detective get in his. Following behind, my trip was a silent ride. There was always something about lack of sound that gave me peace. Some people enjoyed music to drown out their thoughts while driving. Others, a quick call to anyone who would answer to pass the time. Not me. Silence. Isolation. It had become part of my solitude for so long, I rarely enjoyed the useless drone of distractions. To face silence was to face yourself. People couldn’t handle who they really were. I could.
Black flashed in my rearview mirror. Boston. It was no surprise he was following along. A part of me had even hoped he would. If he were there, I could pull him to my side even more. I could provide that comfort and encouragement he needed. The condition of Lucy’s body was going to fuck him up possibly forever. And I looked forward to making the stain on his mind. With being in control, each gouge, each tear of her flesh, would be a mental scar on Boston’s brain I could heal. The actions were opposites, yet I was on both ends. The doctor—the deviant.
Turning into the station, I sat in my car, pretending to gather my things until I saw Boston get out of his in my peripheral. Only then did I shut off the engine and open my door. He was there to meet me the moment I stood.
“Please. You have to tell me more. What’s going on?”
Braden was waiting near the entrance, and I kept my voice low as I started in his direction. The disapproving look was one I ignored.
“They have my patient in custody. He never mentioned taking any girls to me, but I got a call last night. They arrested him trying to break into Anna’s home.”
“That was him?”
My head shot over. “You were there?”
“Yeah. I showed up as they were taking him to the car. I went back by to check on her. To make sure she made it home okay,” he assured.
“Of course.”
“You think he may have Lucy. Where does he live?”
My mouth opened, but closed at my paused. “I don’t know. I haven’t been able to track him to a residence. I guess I wasn’t looking too hard. I was distracted by what was going on here. I was only half aware of what he was saying through the sessions, truthfully.”
“We’ll find out. We’ll get Lucy back as soon as you’re done talking to Braden.”
My gaze stayed on him a moment longer than I wanted. Braden. So, he was on a first-name basis with Anna’s detective? It took everything I had not to scowl.
“If you’ll follow me, we’ll see what you know. You,” Detective Casey snapped to Boston, “can wait out front.”
No arguments. Just a glare from my crafted killer.
Boston already had so much anger inside. Once he unleashed, the murders would be amazing. And I’d add to his skill. Maybe the bodies could be artistically beautiful like Anna’s. That was, if I could convince him to continue on a regular basis. Which I didn’t see being a problem after I put my own creative spin on his dear Lucy.
Keeping close to the detective, we headed through two sets of doors before we ended back at the desk Joy and I had sat at before. Detective Casey took his place behind it, and I followed, sitting across from him. He grabbed a file, flipping through before he took out paper and a pen.
“Start from the beginning. How long have you been Daniel Stracht’s doctor, and when did you decide to meet with him on this trip?”
Pulling out my little black book, I flipped through the pages. To anyone, it would be nothing more than a collection of names and personal information. Little did they know, it was a gold-mine of killers. And I had no reason to have it out other than the thrill and power it gave me. I was better than law enforcement. There was nothing they could do to stop any of us. If one of my clients got caught, it was because of me. If they killed—they turned to me.
“I first met Daniel three years ago. Back in…July. He called to inquire about an appointment. At the time, he claimed he had blackout episodes. During these times, he mentioned he heard voices in the minutes following his return.”
“He heard voices?”
“That’s right.”
“And then what?”
I sat straighter. “I did the normal analysis. We met, and I allowed him to give me his history. He went into detail about…” I frowned, letting worry return. “I’m sorry. I should have put this together sooner.”
“Elaborate.”
“Well, as a juvenile, Daniel was a suspect in a girl’s disappearance. A neighborhood girl he happened to have romantic feelings toward. You see, the cops knew he committed the crime, but there was insufficient evidence to charge him. Daniel lost sight in one of his eyes around that time. When I asked him how it happened, he wouldn’t discuss the cause. From what I gather during our sessions, it happened when he took the girl.”
“Did he ever tell you he was the one responsible?”
“Not in so many words, but he did it.”
Detective Casey frowned, writing more information down on the paper.
“Anyway,” I continued, “Daniel missed two appointments a few months back and refused to return my calls. I thought he was declining anymore treatment, so I let it go. They weren’t really going anywhere, anyway. He refused to be honest. Not only with me, but himself. Three weeks ago, he called me in the middle of the night. He was talking so fast, I could barely understand him. He said I needed to meet with him, that it was urgent. Due to other clients, I came as soon as I could.”
“The day Lucy Adams disappeared.”
“Correct.”
“According to what we’ve found so far on our investigation, it doesn’t appear Daniel Stracht comes from money.”
Detective Casey still had his head down, but it was angled just enough to project the interest in his eyes as he looked at me.
“Not all my clients are wealthy. Some I take just to help. Daniel was one of those patients. I knew about his history before I ever officially met him. I thought if I couldn’t get a confession, I could at least keep an eye on him.”
“You can say you did that. Two eyes. Is he the one who busted up your face?”
My lips twisted at the reference. “Yes. I was pushing him to talk. Something was wrong. I could tell by the way he refused to sit during our session. He kept pacing. When he mentioned something along the lines of ‘the bitch deserved it,’ I told him he had one minute to start talking or I couldn’t see him anymore. My mistake was standing. The moment I put myself on his level, he tried to knock me off it.”
“Did he say anything else?”
“Yes. After he apologized, which I took as genuine given the shock and regret I witnessed through his expressions, he began to sob. He said the blackouts were getting worse and the voices wouldn’t stop. He said he didn’t know what he was going to do. That…he was in trouble.” I shut the book, placing it back in my inside pocket. “He left shortly after that. The agitation returned when I renounced myself as his doctor and offered to get him other help. He refused, of course, but truthfully, I was happy for the appointment to be over with. It wasn’t until he called me last night from here that I began to piece it together. During the call, he said something that immediately made me think of Anna. He said, ‘that bitch with the brown eyes from the news deserves to have her mouth shut’. Brown eyes. From my work with the FBI, I learned to pick up on keywords or phrases of suspects in distress. There was no reason for him to mention eye color. It didn’t make sense.”
A speck of discoloration drained from the detective’s face as his stare left me and went to the hallway just behind us.
“Interesting, indeed,” he breathed out. “Thank you for the information. I’ll call you if we need anything else.”
“That’s it?”
“For now, but I’ll be in touch.”
“Okay,” I said, standing. “I hope I helped in some way.”
“Oh, you did. Very much so.”
I stepped around the chair, nodding as I turned to leave.
“Oh…Dr. Patron?” The detective’s eyes narrowed as he studied me for what seemed endless seconds.
“Yes, Detective?”
“Don’t leave town.”