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Killer Genius

Page 11

by David Archer

"What do you mean?"

  "If he backed out or wasn't part of a pact in the first place, he would have tried to save the other students. They would have already been cut down when the lieutenant arrived, but they weren't. If Donnie hadn't been able to save them, he would have attempted to get help—something like smoke signals, given the training the students receive—and if that hadn't worked, he would have stayed at the campsite to explain the situation as soon as someone arrived to pick them up. Instead, he vanished, and there are really only two reasons people avoid help."

  Summer folded her arms over her chest and nodded slowly. "Either they're hiding something…"

  "Or the help can't be trusted." Eric turned the photo in his hands toward Summer. "Donnie Halper either killed those boys, or he knows who did and knows going back to the academy isn't safe."

  Summer looked over the files on the table a few more times. "We should still look into the first boy's suicide. If that was murder, it's cause for a coverup. If it wasn't, it could be what motivated our killer."

  Eric nodded in agreement. "Revenge and self-preservation are powerful motivators."

  Summer opened her phone and pulled up a blank message, typing a few words before she stopped. "Let's wait until we get the medical examiner's report."

  Eric quirked a brow, confused. "Why?"

  "Until we get that, this is just a hunch. If we wait until we have the report, the team should already be on the ground, investigating the staff and students. Not only will we have evidence to back our idea, but we'll know we didn't influence their first impressions."

  Eric nodded and smiled, immediately understanding. "That makes sense. You're really smart, Ms. Raines."

  Summer was surprised by the compliment, but it made her smile nonetheless. "Thank you."

  TEN

  Eric smiled, looked at the case files, and then looked back up, concern and fear suddenly dominating his features. "Was it you or someone you know?"

  Summer blinked a few times, lost. "Um, sorry, what?"

  Eric looked at the files again. "Suicide. I noticed the way your body language changed as soon as Sam said the victims hanged themselves, and you've been fingering your necklace on and off all day. You're doing it now, actually."

  Summer looked down and saw he was right. She hadn't even realized her hand had moved.

  "It was, uh…" She shook her head, still reeling from the sudden change in topic. "It was my best friend, Jeannette."

  Eric rubbed his nose and then pulled out a chair, sitting down and putting his feet up on the seat with him. "Um… do you… I mean, because your friend… um… why did she… um, I mean…" He trailed off, biting down on his lip. "What do you think about… about people who hurt or kill themselves… for attention?"

  Summer furrowed her brow, once again confused by the jump, even if it wasn't as drastic.

  "Well, I…" Summer leaned back against the table and crossed her arms, considering her answer carefully. "I don't think they understand what someone who genuinely wants to die is going through, but I don't think they should be ignored or ridiculed, either. I think you would have to be… incredibly lonely and unwanted to believe people will only care about you if you hurt or kill yourself. It might not be the same kind of pain, but it's still pain. It's just different." She turned to look at him. "Does that make sense?"

  Eric nodded and curled up a little tighter, tracing idle patterns on the side of his leg. "So… you wouldn't be angry at someone who… I mean, if someone told you…"

  Summer pushed off the table and grabbed a chair of her own. She sat directly across from Eric and leaned forward, trying to find his eyes. "Eric, have you been thinking about suicide?" she asked softly.

  Eric shook his head quickly, but he didn't look at her. "No, not anymore. I… I did, though, a long time ago." He began scratching his leg, and his voice was thick when he continued. "When I… when I was talking to Lee, I wanted him… to know I understood him, so I… I told him about… about how I tried, and…" He broke off into a sob but quickly reeled himself back in. "I guess I kinda… I hoped… I thought maybe…"

  "Hey." Summer grabbed his chair and pulled him as close as she could. "It's okay. You can tell me."

  Eric didn't say anything right away, one hand coming up to rub at his nose again. "I thought maybe Mr. Prichard or Mr. Cortlandt would—would ask me about it." He dropped his hand a little. "Or—or talk to me, maybe. I thought… I thought maybe Mr. Prichard wouldn't be so angry at me if he knew…"

  Eric shook his head, another quiet sob escaping him. "I know it's not an excuse, and—and it wasn't—that wasn't why I did it, but I just—I just—" He took a trembling breath and looked up, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Am I a bad person, Ms. Raines?"

  Summer felt a stabbing pain in her chest, and she immediately grabbed Eric's ankles, pulling them until he put his feet back on the floor. She reached out and cupped his face in her hands, causing his gaze to flicker away.

  "Eric, look at me."

  He swallowed hard and did as he was told, shaking a bit.

  Summer shook her head slowly, never taking her eyes off his, not even blinking. "You are not a bad person, Eric." She gently thumbed his cheek, shaking her head again. "It isn't wrong to want to know that somebody cares."

  Eric let out a sob, his entire body sagging with relief. He took several deep, trembling breaths. "That isn't why I did it. I promise."

  "Hey, listen." Summer only shook her head again. "I don't care. I don't care why you did it. It doesn't matter. All that matters, all I care about, is the fact that you, at some point in your life, thought that trying to kill yourself was a good thing."

  Eric sniffed, tears staining his cheeks.

  "You promise me something, okay?"

  Eric nodded, sniffing again.

  "If you ever start to have those thoughts or feelings again, promise you'll come to me. No matter what kind of feelings they are. If you ever feel trapped or exhausted or worthless—if you feel like no one cares and you need attention—come to me. We will figure something out."

  Eric nodded a few times and wiped his cheeks. "I can do that."

  Summer looked him dead in the eye. "Promise me."

  Eric blinked away his tears. "I promise."

  Summer slowly let go of his face, dropping her hands in to her lap.

  He went from fine to guilt-ridden breakdown. So, what's next?

  "Hey." Summer nudged his knee. "Let's start working on motives. We were really on a roll there. Well, you were, but I helped."

  Eric sniffed and smiled, blinking rapidly. "We were on a roll." He grinned a bit. "It's, uh, it's actually funny you should bring up motive, because I was just thinking about Reggie's suicide again. According to his file, he was only twelve, which means he was one of the youngest students at Landsdown. That would also make him one of the smallest and most vulnerable. I think we should look into bullying as a possible cause for the suicide."

  Summer blinked a few times. Apparently, going right back to normal is what's next.

  "Does that sound bad coming from me? I mean, because of the Lee thing?"

  Summer thought about it for a moment and then shook her head. "No, Reggie definitely would have been a prime target for bullying, and the five boys found in the woods were all upperclassmen. They were bigger, stronger, older… and the school motto is, 'Conquer Your Fears,' so I doubt they teach classes on empathy and emotional support."

  Eric nodded his head a few times. "We should start looking into Reggie's family."

  Summer looked up at him, shaking her head with awe. "You're good, Eric. I mean, you already know that, but you're really good. You're not even there, and you're investigating all these traits just from paper."

  Eric gave her a sheepish smile. "Don't forget, Ms. Raines—I solved 22 cases from inside North Forest Hospital." He looked a little bitter for a moment, lips pouting a bit. "My file says I was only consulted from the hospital, but I solved them. I figured it out, alone, with no one helping me.
"

  "They shouldn't have done that, Eric." Summer tensed up a bit, not liking the sudden change in his countenance. "You have a right to be recognized for your hard work."

  "I know I do." Eric began to scratch at his arm, growing angrier by the second, beginning to pace in the conference room. "It's just—it's just ridiculous! How can anybody be so, so, so stupid to actually believe someone with my level of intelligence was only consulted on every single case they were handed? If a free man did it, it would be totally different, but—" He pressed his palms to his eyes and uttered a frustrated shout. "It's just not—it's just not fair!"

  Summer barely had time to react before Eric swiped the evidence off the table, sending the box, folders, and papers flying. Stay calm. She slowly leaned forward and didn't let herself jump when Eric slammed his hands down on the tabletop. Don't scare him. She stopped moving and spoke softly, trying to get his attention without aggravating him further.

  "Eric… I want to help, but in order to do that, I need to know what is making you so angry."

  Eric mumbled something to the table, his hands drumming on the tabletop.

  "I can't hear… "

  "I said I don't know!" Eric slammed his hands on the table again, but he uttered a sound that was more upset than angry. "I don't know, Ms. Raines." He turned away from the table and began to pace again. "I don't know, I don't know, I don't know! I don't know, and I hate it! This is—this is such a stupid thing to get so angry over, and most of the time—most of the time it doesn't even bother me, but sometimes, Ms. Raines—sometimes I just get so angry, and I don't know why, but I can't make it stop. I try to talk myself down, I try to take deep breaths, and it just makes everything worse!"

  Eric finally stopped pacing, throwing his back against the wall and dropping unceremoniously to the floor. He stared blankly ahead, the passion draining from his eyes. "And sometimes…" His voice cracked. "…sometimes when it goes away, I feel better, but most of the time… I just get so tired, Ms. Raines. I—do you have any idea how…" He panted, chest heaving. "…how exhausting it is to be that angry?"

  Summer slowly approached him, stepping over the scattered papers carefully. She joined Eric on the floor, leaning back against the wall with a sigh.

  Eric shook his head, eyes glassy with tears he wouldn't—or perhaps couldn't—shed. "I just… I don't understand, Ms. Raines. Why am I this way?"

  Summer shook her head slowly and moved a little closer, cautiously putting an arm around him. "I don't know, Eric." She shook her head again. "We're gonna figure this out. Sam made an appointment with a psychiatrist for you, and it's coming up soon."

  Eric physically recoiled at the information, a desperate whine rising in his throat as tearful eyes implored her. "No, please! Please don't put me on more medication. Please—"

  "Shh." Summer shook her head immediately. "No, Eric, no. We want to do the opposite, okay? We want you to be evaluated so that we can get you off some of these pills you're on, change some things around, and just—we just want to find something that works for you."

  Eric stared at her, fear still evident in his honey-brown eyes, but he didn't shy away from her any more. "R-really?" He sniffed and dragged his arm across his eyes. "You mean it?"

  Summer nodded her head, smiling warmly. "Yes, I mean it. We're gonna get to the bottom of this, okay? Depression, anxiety, mood disorders, personality disorders… whatever it is, we're going to figure it out and find a way to treat it. We're gonna make it better."

  * * *

  "I had a thought."

  Sam stopped halfway to his office, turning to look at Summer with a combination of concern and urgency in his eyes. "Can it wait? I want to check on Eric."

  Summer opened her mouth, stopped, and then spoke. "I don't know. It's about Eric, but it's going to sound crazy …" She shook her head. "Does it seem like we are busier than usual?"

  Sam thought about it for a moment. She said it was about Eric, so he figured she meant since Eric had first arrived, which was almost ten days ago. It wasn't all that unbelievable to have two cases in little over a week, but when he counted the case Eric was initially called in for…

  "Do we have another one?" He figured something had triggered her thoughts, so he went with the most likely scenario.

  Summer nodded. "Yeah. Ron says they seem to be coming out of the woodwork…" She chewed on her lip, crossing her arms. "It just seems like too many coincidences. We hire Eric, and we get a case—a spree killing we can't put off—where Eric identifies with the killer. We're barely home a day, and we get another case—one we're supposed to keep in-house, so again, it can't wait—that gets Eric's mind on suicide. I just… North Forest Hospital would know his triggers, they're not cooperating with us at all, and it almost seems like… like Eric could be doing really well, but these cases seem to be sending him downhill."

  Sam considered the idea for a moment, but he finally found himself sidetracked by the mention of suicide. "Is Eric thinking about suicide?"

  Summer shook her head. "I don't think so. He was… he talked about his suicide attempts. He was hurt that you and Denny didn't say anything to him about it after the Ramey case."

  Sam let out a frustrated sigh, but he blamed himself for the bad call. "We had just fought, and then we talked about North Forest Hospital, and he was so upset and emotionally drained. I thought it would overwhelm him if I kept pressing; Denny did, too."

  "Hey." Summer shook her head, as empathetic as ever, and spoke softly. "If he hadn't been upset about it, he wouldn't have opened up to me, and we had a really good talk yesterday." She paused. "We had a couple of really good talks."

  "I can talk to him about it. I'll leave an opening so he can bring it up if he wants to." She shrugged her shoulders. "I told you, I had a thought. That's all it was."

  Sam barely heard her, his mind looking at her comment from another angle and finding an entirely different motive. "They could benefit from this another way. If Eric is doing poorly in our care, they could call for an investigation into Windlass on allegations of abuse."

  "Could you talk to Molson? Find out if anyone from North Forest Hospital has been asking about us?"

  Sam shook his head, reminding himself to join Denny in the liaison's office later. "She got sick and ended up in the hospital yesterday. She’s going to be out of pocket for a while."

  "So, someone new will be coming in." Summer pressed her lips together, nodding her head sarcastically. "Convenient."

  Sam lowered his voice a bit and leaned a little closer. "Your theory is flimsy at best, but if you're right, the evidence is out there. You can't let it affect your work, but if you keep looking into this idea, I won't stop you. Just bring everything you find to me so we can compare notes."

  Summer looked at him oddly for a second, and then understanding smoothed away the crease in her brow. "I can do that."

  "I know you can." Sam gave her a brief smirk. "I'm going to check on Eric. When are we going over the new case?"

  "First thing tomorrow morning, so you have half a day to file your reports."

  Sam let out a brief sigh but said nothing, walking toward his office with a scowl on his face. It's far-fetched, but North Forest Hospital has certainly been giving us problems. His frown deepened. I guess it's possible North Forest Hospital is somehow arranging for specific cases to come to Windlass, but it's unlikely. They might know Eric, but if they sent us cases that they expect to affect Eric negatively, they would be betting on the reaction of everyone here contributing to the problem. Otherwise, cases like that would only help Eric learn to trust us.

  Though, in a way, that was what happened. If there was something to the conspiracy theory, it was possible North Forest Hospital was about to realize their tactic wasn't working. It was possible they would change things up, unexpectedly, and be more successful than before.

  Sam stepped into his office and shook the thoughts away. If Summer found anything, she would bring it to him. He had only one priority at the mome
nt.

  "Eric." Sam pushed the chair from behind his desk over to the sofa and sat down, squeezing Eric's shoulder. "Hey, you awake?"

  "Mm-hmm." Eric's eyes didn't open. "Sorry, Mr. Prichard."

  Sam didn't remove his hand, and he spoke with a soothing voice. "What are you sorry for?"

  Eric heaved a sigh and shrugged, whispering his reply. "This."

  He usually wears his heart on his sleeve, but could this all be from his sudden fit of anger? He's so exhausted he can barely speak. It has to be a build-up of depression, but did it start before he got here or only since then?

  Sam gave the arm another squeeze and began to rub gently, knowing how much Eric craved physical touch. "You haven't done anything wrong, Eric. There isn't anything you need to apologize for, okay?"

  Eric didn't say anything, but it was obvious he was trying to fight off the exhaustion. He looked for just a moment like he might cry, but he didn’t seem to have the energy.

  Energy. "Eric," Sam brightened. "You want to try an energy drink?"

  Eric gave the slightest shake of the head. "Not enough."

  "It's something," Sam tried. "It can’t hurt."

  Eric only shrugged, the life seeming to drain out of him. It was like every last drop of energy had been used to complete the talk. Eric had nothing left. He laid his head down again on the sofa.

  But he isn't passed out. He's awake, he's just… Sam remained silent, sitting by the sofa and gently running his hand through Eric's hair on a loop. I hope he forgives me. I hope I'm not wrong. He hung his head a bit, staring at his shoes. Three and a half more days, and then maybe we can get some answers.

  Sam was counting down the hours.

  ELEVEN

  Denny leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms over his head, yawning loudly. He picked up his coffee cup, finding it empty and cold. Clearly, it had been entirely too long since he refilled.

  If they don't find something soon, I'm turning in for the night.

  Denny poured coffee into his mug and microwaved it for thirty seconds, drumming his fingers on the counter as he waited. It was silent in the room, everyone else having gone home, but there was a heaviness to it that most of the time wasn't there.

 

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