I Know Everything

by Matthew Farrell

Susan lifted Tim off her lap and patted him on the butt. “Okay, sweetie. Go get one.”

  “Can you come with me?”

  “It’s right there. You can do it.”

  She watched her little boy carefully shuffle over to the table full of books, glancing back every few feet to make sure his mom was still there. She hadn’t fully anticipated the reaction her children would have to being held captive and watching a man die in front of them. At first they had appeared okay. They’d been shaken, but who wouldn’t have been? She’d thought they were too young to properly process what had happened and what they witnessed, and Casey seemed to be coping okay. She was her regular self, playing with her dolls and creating things from her arts and crafts kit as she’d always done. Her love of after-school movies never waned, and she slept well almost every night. Tim, however, was having problems. It had begun with questions asked incessantly about the man who tried to take them and the man who hurt Grandma and the man Mommy had to shoot. Susan answered them all the best she could, and he’d seem satisfied with those answers until he’d ask them again and again, and the cycle would reset.

  Tim’s questions then morphed into nightmares that would cause him to wake up screaming and crying that the bad man was coming to get them. Bed-wetting followed, and it was at this time Susan began searching for someone they could talk to. They’d found a local therapist and had sessions three times a week, but it hadn’t helped. Things continued to get worse, and Tim’s detachment from his friends at school was noticed by his teachers, who’d made calls home, stating that he’d become distant and his learning was suffering. At that point, Susan knew more drastic measures had to be taken. She needed to dive in and solve this before he passed a point of no return. And here they were.

  The elevator chimed, and Susan watched a man step off. He was dressed casually: a pair of tan khakis, a green wool sweater, a bomber jacket and scarf. He walked with the help of a cane, passing the reception desk and coming into the waiting area. When he sat across from her, Tim ran from the book table and buried his face in her lap. That was his reaction to strangers these days.

  “I’m sorry,” the man said, motioning toward Tim. “Did I take his seat?”

  Susan shook her head. “No, that’s fine. He was sitting with me.”

  She studied him out of the corner of her eye as he checked his phone. He looked to be her age. Maybe a little older. Dirty-blond hair that was just a bit overgrown. His beard had a little gray in it. It was attractive.

  “Mommy, I can’t find a book,” Tim whined from her lap.

  “Okay. Keep looking. There has to be something there.”

  “I want you to come with me.”

  “You can go by yourself. You’re a big boy.”

  “No.”

  “I think you can.”

  Tim shook his head. “I can’t. You have to come with me.”

  “Okay, come on.”

  She got up and walked Tim over to the table. They began pulling out books and studying the covers.

  “You’re on the job?” the man asked, pointing. “I can see your shield on your belt.”

  Susan looked down and nodded. “Yeah, I forgot that was there. Came here right from work.”

  “I used to be on too.” He held up his cane. “Not anymore.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Where are you stationed?”

  “I’m actually New York State Police,” Susan replied as she cycled through more books that Tim shook his head at.

  The man sat up in his seat. “New York? What’re you doing down here?”

  “My brother got scared when the bad man tried to hurt us, and now he needs to talk to a doctor so he can feel better and be happy again.”

  Casey was standing on the other side of the man’s chair. He spun around and smiled.

  “Is that right?”

  “Yes. And we don’t want him to have bad dreams anymore, so we had to come here so the doctor can make him all better.”

  “How about you?” he asked. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m good,” Casey replied. “I don’t need to talk to a doctor. Just Tim.”

  The man turned back around and faced Tim. “I’m here to talk to a doctor too,” he said. “Nothing to feel scared about. The people here are real nice. They’ll make you feel better for sure. Just like they made me feel better.”

  Tim dropped a book he was holding and looked at the man, studying him for a while. “Did a bad man try and hurt you too?”

  “You could say that.”

  “And the doctor made you feel better.”

  “She certainly did.”

  Tim nodded and finally grabbed a book. Without another word, he walked back over to the chair, climbed up, and started reading.

  Susan stood up and made her way back to her seat. Casey returned to playing with the dollhouse. “Thanks,” she said to the man. “Believe it or not, I think that helped.”

  “I wasn’t lying,” he replied. “This hospital is top notch. He’s in good hands. You’re doing the right thing.”

  Susan smiled. There was something about the way he spoke that reassured her she was, in fact, doing right by her son. Tim could have continued treatment in New York, but she’d read so many articles touting the advancements in pediatric psychology at Jefferson Hospital. Philadelphia wasn’t that far a drive. If it meant getting their lives back together again, she’d do anything. This was going to work. She could feel it.

  The nurse at the reception area leaned over her desk. “Dr. Cain is ready for you.”

  The man nodded and slowly eased himself up from the seat. “It was nice to talk to you. I hope everything works out. Maybe I’ll see you here again.”

  “Yes,” Susan replied. “Maybe.” She extended her hand. “I’m Susan Adler, by the way.”

  The man smiled. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Susan Adler. I’m Liam. Liam Dwyer.”

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Writing a second book is always harder than the first and can be quite intimidating for a new author. Suddenly, there are deadlines and expectations and contracts as well as sales of the first book that people will compare to the second. It’s daunting having a successful debut and having to follow it up with another great story. I hope I’ve done that for my readers, and I would like to thank the following people who were instrumental in both contributing to the story and talking me off the ledge when I needed it.

  First, to my agent, Curtis Russell of PS Literary Agency. Thank you for taking the phone calls when I was at my wit’s end and encouraging me to keep pressing forward. I appreciate your ongoing vote of confidence and your true advocacy for my work.

  To my editors, Megha Parekh and Caitlin Alexander. Your feedback and suggestions really helped make the story come to life, and your support meant more than you know. I love what we created here and look forward to our continued success.

  To Sarah Shaw and the rest of the Thomas & Mercer team. Your enthusiasm for my books is never waning, and that means so much. Again, thank you for everything you do out in the marketplace.

  To David Prockter, for planting the seed of this story and getting my wheels turning. You’re a great friend and have always been one of my biggest fans. Your support means so much. Thanks, bud.

  To Investigator Brian Martin of the New York State Police, Manhattan. Thank you for your insight on the inner workings of the state police and the tour of the Buchannan barracks. I appreciate you answering the random calls and texts to ensure I got my facts straight.

  To Martin Farrell (a.k.a. Dad), sergeant, retired, Pleasantville Police Department. Again, thank you for allowing me to pick your brain about police procedures and methods. Your information is invaluable and adds to the authenticity of my law enforcement characters.

  To my mother, Mary. You’re always there with a tweet or a retweet to help promote my books and spread the word to everyone you can. Thank you for all you do. I love you.

  To my family and friends, who supported me with
my first book and continue to do so with this one. Your love means so much, and I can only thank you from the bottom of my heart.

  To my wife, Cathy. This wild journey is just beginning, and I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather experience it with than you. I love you and always will.

  To my two daughters, Mackenzie and Jillian, to whom this book is dedicated. Thank you for being the inspiration behind everything that’s good, pure, loving, and strong about Susan Adler. When I tell her story, I see you two in my mind. I love you both more than you can possibly know.

  Thank you, again, to all of my readers. I hope you continue to enjoy my books and share your reading experiences with me. I write my stories for you, and I’m so grateful you’re there to read them.

  Finally, a quick note of thanks to Gary Grandstaff, who won a contest to have his name used in the book. When I first started writing this, Gary was only going to be a name mentioned in passing, but as the character became more prominent in the story and ended up being the force behind Randall’s relapse, I wanted to give Gary Grandstaff an opportunity to rethink having his name attached to such a diabolical character. In the end, we kept Gary and replaced his surname with Anderson, but I wanted to at least acknowledge him here since he did win the contest.

  Happy reading, everyone. I truly hope you enjoyed this book.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Photo © 2017 Mima Photography

  Matthew Farrell lives in the Hudson Valley, just outside of New York City, with his wife and two daughters. Get caught up on the progress of his next thriller along with his general musings by following him on Twitter @mfarrellwriter or liking him on Facebook: www.facebook.com/mfarrellwriter2.