“You know I want to, but I need proof.”
She’d been let down so many times in her life he didn’t want her to get her hopes up now. Not until he had evidence. Right now, he was only going off of her dreams and the unreliable memories of his grandfather.
“Okay, then.” She paused and looked into his eyes, her gaze pleading with him. “Let’s not wait to call Dr. Manning. Maybe he could see me today.”
“I called right before you came down. You have an appointment this afternoon.”
She stood, put one hand on his chest, and smiled. “Thank you. It’ll be worth it, I promise.”
He took a deep breath and sighed, watching her walk away. Hopefully he wasn’t making a mistake by taking her to Dr. Manning. He didn’t like shrinks, and everything about Manning bugged him, from his beady eyes and small stature to his condescending tone. The guy was a weasel. But his credentials had passed the quick check he’d asked Terry to run, and they were running out of options.
The more time that passed, the less likely it became that they were going to find Elyse’s attacker, and her missing memories could hold the answer to finding him.
James paced the kitchen waiting, his mind filled with different possibilities, none of them good. Manning might help her remember. He might not. Either way, it would be painful for her, and he hated that.
She came back into the kitchen, blue jeans hugging her legs, a blue t-shirt lying against her flat stomach. The bottom of her light red curls brushed her shoulders, and she hadn’t put on make-up. He didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone more beautiful.
He stopped pacing and stood in front of her. She looked at him, her face expressionless, and her stature straight.
“I’m ready,” she said, her voice straining. She was trying to appear brave, but her eyes glistened with the tears he knew she didn’t want to cry.
“You don’t have to do this. I can call Manning and cancel the appointment.”
“No. I need answers, and you do, too. You can’t take care of me forever, James. At some point, you’ll need to go back to being a cop instead of my personal bodyguard.”
She’d turned her back to him, but even without seeing her face he could tell she was trying hard to be brave. He’d never known anyone like her. She knew the truth could be horrible, and yet she wanted to know it. Most people would run from the things that might cause them pain, but she was running straight for them, prepared to face them head on.
He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him, then took her face in his hands.
“First of all, Elyse, I might not be on duty, but I am still a cop. Protecting you hasn’t taken that from me. My priority is you―catching your attacker and making sure you’re safe. Second, I think you know how I feel about being your personal bodyguard. I’m prepared to take care of you for as long as you’re willing to let me.”
She turned away. “I’m not sure I know how to let you take care of me.”
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her body against his, and she leaned her head back against his chest.
“Just let me.”
Chapter 15
Elyse turned her head to look at James. He’d been quiet the entire drive to the psychiatric hospital, and the closer they got to Manning’s office, the tighter the muscles in his jaw became. The tight muscles accented the rugged qualities of his face, and she had a hard time looking away.
James turned the truck into the parking lot and pulled into a spot close to the entrance. He shifted to face her. His forehead wrinkled, and the corners of his eyes were down. She knew he was trying to protect her, but he wasn’t going to be able to protect her forever. Besides, he’d done so much for her, and maybe this would be a way she could do something for him. If Manning could help her remember, she could help James solve the case.
“Are you sure about this? It’s not too late to turn back.” He sounded almost like he wanted her to change her mind.
“I’m sure. No matter what happens, I’ll be fine. Besides, I have a hero cop with me.” She smiled, hoping it was enough to fool James. She wasn’t fooling herself.
She was afraid of what she might learn. She was just as afraid she might not learn anything. But she had to try. She was tired of the nightmares, and then there was this morning. Something Pops had said about James’ dad talking to a kid at the scene of the murders had triggered something, not quite a memory, more like a feeling. She hadn’t mentioned it to James, because she wasn’t sure it even meant anything, but if it did, she needed to know what.
He smiled back at her. “Alright. If you feel uncomfortable at all though, you say the word and we’ll leave. Promise?”
“I promise.” She leaned over and kissed him, her pulse racing as her lips touched his.
He pulled back, cupped her face in his hands, and looked at her from under raised brows. “I’m serious, Elyse. Say the word.” He heaved a sigh and reached for the door handle.
Her heart was pounding as he came around and opened her door. She needed to do this. She had to do this. She hopped out of the seat and James rushed her to the front doors of the hospital.
The large glass door slid apart, opening into the familiar smell of disinfectant and processed food. A shiver ran down Elyse’s spine, and she grabbed James’ hand. They walked to the front desk, where a nurse sat behind the counter, going over what looked like patient charts.
“Can I help you?”
“We’re here…I have an appointment with Dr. Manning,” Elyse replied.
The woman didn’t look up, only pointed to some seats along the wall of the lobby. “Have a seat. I’ll let him know you’re here.”
James leaned toward her and whispered out of the corner of his mouth. “Not very friendly, is she?”
Elyse raised her eyebrows and shrugged. He was just trying to ease her tension, she knew that, but it didn’t matter if the nurse was friendly or not. They were here to get answers from Dr. Manning, not make small talk with the rude nurse working the desk.
They walked to the seating, but she was too antsy to sit. A million thoughts ran through her mind as she paced back and forth in front of James. His eyes followed her, and she wished he would stop staring at her. It was bad enough that she was about to have her brain picked by a shrink. She didn’t enjoy feeling like she was under such close scrutiny by James, either.
She stopped pacing and faced him. “Will you please stop watching me? I feel—”
James looked past her and stood, and Elyse turned around to see what had captured his attention. Manning walked toward them, his arms swinging against the bottom of his white coat. His gray slacks were tailored to perfectly fit his small frame, his shoes leather and definitely designer.
She looked back at James, took a deep breath, and then turned back toward the doctor.
“Elyse,” Dr. Manning extended his hand. She looked at it, and then thrust her hand forward and firmly shook the doctor’s hand.
She knew how insecure she was feeling, but she was going to do whatever it took to make sure Manning didn’t. She was here for one reason and one reason only—to try and remember who was in the room the day of her family’s murders. She didn’t need or want him prying around with her personal life.
“Dr. Manning,” she replied, shaking his hand. “Thank you for seeing us on such short notice.”
His eyes widened and his head inclined. “Us?”
James smiled, his lips pressed together, and he stood close beside Elyse. “Yes. Us.”
Dr. Manning stared at James for a moment, his lips curling into a smile, then shifted his focus to Elyse. “If that’s what you want. Because Sheriff Warrick is not a relative, I’ll need you to sign a form giving your consent for him to be present during your sessions. Then we can get started. Shall we?” He gestured toward his office and the three of them started walking.
Sessions? What did he mean, sessions? The word rattled her thin façade of confidence. She didn’t like shrinks, and she liked h
ospitals even less—especially this one. She wanted to come once, get answers, and be done.
“What do you mean, sessions? Can’t you give me the information I need today? And I already signed some consent form. Why do I have to sign another one?”
She turned, anticipating his answer, but he was a few paces behind them, his steps slow and labored. He stopped, looked down at his feet, and shrugged.
“New Salvatore Ferragamos. I love them, but they always take a bit to break in. Yes, you did sign a form, but this one gives permission for the sheriff to be present for all of your sessions. Please, let’s finish this discussion privately.”
He opened the door to his office and ushered Elyse and James in first, then entered and closed the door behind them.
His brown eyes narrowed, making them look more beady than usual. He plodded to the chair behind his desk and sat, gesturing for Elyse and James to sit in the chairs across from him. The oversized oak desk was a sharp contrast to his petite frame, making him seem even smaller than he was. Still, he had a kind of imposing presence, in spite of his small size.
Being here made Elyse feel like she’d been called into the principal’s office. But she wasn’t in the principal’s office. And she wasn’t going to allow this little man to intimidate her.
“Are you going to tell me what you meant by sessions? I was hoping for one appointment.”
“Please, sit.” He paused and stared at her, and she lowered into the chair. “The answers you get today depend completely on you, Elyse.” He pulled open a drawer in the desk, talking as he fingered through the files. “Memories are very tricky things. Ah, yes, here it is.” He pulled out a sheet of paper and pushed it across the desk to her. “This is the form I need you to sign in order for the sheriff to be present during your appointments.”
He handed her a pen. She signed the form and pushed it back across the desk. Manning looked at James and then back at her. “Now that we have that out of the way, as I was saying, memories can be very tricky to access. In your case, you’ve buried them very deeply. When you began seeing me, your memories of—” He paused. “You are here because of the nightmares, yes?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why else would I be here?”
He pursed his lips together and nodded. “There were some other issues in your past. Issues of—”
“Abuse.”
“That’s right. The abuse played a large role in your reason for staying away from Gunderson for so long. You harbored a lot of anger toward your mother.”
“All I want to know now is why I’m having the nightmares, and whose figure I keep seeing in them.”
Manning raised one eyebrow. “You never mentioned any figure before. Tell me about your nightmares, Elyse.”
“They’re always the same. I’m at the bottom of the stairs in my house, looking for my family. I hear my mother, singing from her room. I go up the stairs and find…”
Her mouth was dry, her pulse speeding. She paused and looked at James.
“One word.” James words gave her the comfort and confidence she needed to continue. She turned back to Manning.
“I find my father and sister dead, my mother kneeling in blood and humming. She tells me to run, and a figure comes toward me from the dark corner of the room.”
“I see.” Manning was writing and nodding. He set the notepad and pen down and looked at Elyse. “The figure; what can you tell me about that?”
“I think it’s a man…or a boy. I think. I’m not sure, though. It’s always blurry, he’s wearing a hood or a mask of some kind, and I always see him right before I wake up. I think it may be the person who murdered my family.”
Manning stood from behind the desk and approached her, making her sink back in the chair. Everything about this made her uncomfortable—talking about the nightmare, being here where her mother had been, and even Manning. He looked down and put his hand on her shoulder, sending a shiver down her spine. She shifted away from his touch, and James glared at him. He put his hands in his pockets and took a step back.
“Elyse, I’m afraid that’s not the case. Your mother…” He paused and pressed his lips together, then shrugged. “Well, now that she’s passed, and you are her only living relative, I can tell you what she told me during our time together.”
Good. This was exactly what she’d hoped. She would get her answers today and be done with the nightmares.
“Your mother had what we call a psychotic break. In her case, she had already struggled with mental illness, and something happened that caused her mind to suffer a temporary period of violent delusions. During that brief time, she believed your father and sister were conspiring to kill her. Your father had his hunting knife out—of course we know from the evidence and your mother’s own account that he was cleaning it—but she believed he was going to use it to kill her. He left it on the dresser when he left the room for a moment, and she used it to kill Evie. Your father came back into the room, and she stabbed him. Something snapped her out of the break, and that’s when you came home and found them. You’re fortunate you hadn’t come home sooner, or you would have been killed, also. I’m sorry, Elyse, I really am.”
She sat, silently trying to process everything he had told her. The ticking clock on the wall boomed in her ears. She could hear the faint, distant sound of Manning’s voice. James’ hand on her shoulder snapped her back to the harsh reality of the office.
“So, who is the boy?”
Manning shook his head. “Could be a lot of things. More than likely you have created him in order for you to maintain your mother’s innocence in your mind. Sometimes, our brains combine traumatic events in order to protect us. Maybe he has something to do with your abuse.” He knit his brows together and exhaled through his nose. “When I saw you earlier, you mentioned not being able to remember. Did something happen that affected your memory?”
“I was—”
“—in an accident.” James’ tone was forceful, firm. “She was hit by a car and sustained a head injury.”
She wasn’t sure why James didn’t want Dr. Manning to know about the attack, but she played along. James usually had her best interest in mind, and she figured this was no different.
“Sheriff Warrick,” Manning said, brows low over his eyes, “could I please see you in the hall for a moment?”
“Look, Doctor,” Elyse sneered. “Whatever you have to say, you can say in here. It’s my treatment, and—”
“Elyse,” James gazed at her. “Let me talk to Dr. Manning. I promise I won’t keep anything from you, okay?”
He was up to something, and he was asking her to trust him. She wanted to, and she wanted him to know she was trying.
“Okay.”
She watched as they walked out of the office and closed the door. The office looked like every other psychiatrist’s office. Plaques on the walls, oak desk, bookshelves, a couch, and file cabinets.
File cabinets.
Maybe there was more to her mother’s story than he had told her, and maybe she could find Maggie’s file in his cabinet. Maybe she’d even find her own.
She looked at the door and listened. She could hear James’ voice, so she stood and tip-toed to the cabinet. She pulled the drawers open and thumbed through the files. Ballard, Becker, Benson.
Her heart raced as she pulled the file labeled “Benson, Margaret.” She set it on the desk, trying to prepare for whatever might be inside. She thought she was prepared for anything, but she hadn’t prepared for this. Nothing. The file was empty.
She picked it up and put it back in the drawer, thumbing back through to find her own file. Becker, Benson, Best.
That’s not right.
She went through them again.
Becker, Benson, Best. No second file. Where’s the second—
The knob on the door began to turn, so she closed the drawer and hurried back to her chair, trying to catch her breath and calm her heart rate.
* * *
Dr. Manning ope
ned the door and James walked in first. Elyse looked at him, her eyes wide, and looked toward the file cabinet. He narrowed his eyes at her and cocked his head. What had she been up to while he’d been in the hall?
Manning went back to his seat across from Elyse. He folded his hands and set them in front of him. “The reason I wanted to speak to Sheriff Warrick privately is because I am concerned for your safety. I told him that during our first appointment, you had expressed a concern you had about someone following you. At that time, I had seen no evidence that you were in any danger, and knowing your mother’s history, I thought—”
“You thought I was crazy?”
“Mentally ill, Elyse. Not crazy. But yes, I had to at least consider it a possibility.”
“I explained to Dr. Manning that you were in an accident trying to escape an attacker,” James said, hoping she wouldn’t say anything else. He looked at her, trying to signal her to keep quiet. “I told him how you had run out of the woods and been hit by a car, and that all you remember from before the accident is that you were running away from someone.”
“The sheriff also informed me that you are in protective custody at a safe house until your attacker can be found. I’m so relieved to hear that, Elyse.” His tone seemed insincere, almost condescending.
“Yes,” she said, looking at James. She turned her focus to Manning. “I remember running away from someone, and then I got hit by a car.”
“So, the only memories you’ve had of the murders are from the dreams?”
“Well, until we learned my name. Of course, then we knew my history, but it was just knowledge at that point. I still couldn’t remember. Then little things came, like foods I enjoyed, stuff like that. Then I remembered visiting my mom, and when I found out she had passed, we came to get her things. But yeah, other than that, I don’t really have memories. Just the dreams.”
James looked at her, hoping she could see how proud he was of her. She had done exactly what he’d wanted her to do.
Killer Secrets Page 17