Alexis had agreed to this appointment to appease Serena in the months leading up to her wedding. She didn’t want to do anything to ruin Serena’s happiness, and if seeing a counselor gave her sister peace of mind, it was a small price to pay. But the more Alexis thought about it, counseling might not be such a bad thing.
If anything, the counselor could help her sort out the negative thoughts that had flooded her the minute Chris had opted not to come in. As soon as those words had escaped his lips, she was transported back to a time when her socially-awkward self had overcompensated for the paralyzing social anxiety that she’d hidden from her family. Her family saw her as outgoing when instead she grasped at anything to feel included.
Now that she’d met Chris, she didn’t want to retreat into the darkness that washed over her once in a while. The complete lack of interest and motivation that drove her under the covers for days at a time. She had never met anyone like Chris, and he made her want to be better. Not for him, but for herself. If she wanted a chance with him, she had to take care of herself first.
“Alexis Harper?” A short brunette stood in the doorway, a clipboard in her hand.
Come on, Alexis. You’ve got this. You’re stronger than you know. The words in her head had hung on the wall of her teenaged bedroom, and until now, she never dared believe them.
Alexis sucked in a breath. It was now or never. “I’m Alexis.”
The brunette smiled at her. “Great. Come on back.” As the woman led her down a hall past several offices, she kept up a steady stream of chatter. “I love that the weather is finally getting warmer. I can’t stand winter, can you? I mean, it’s so cold. But now, it’s finally warm and I can’t wait until summer when I can go to the beach. By the way, I love your scarf.”
The assistant mercifully took a breath after that.
“Thanks,” Alexis murmured in the silence.
The woman stopped in front of a door at the end of the hall, motioning for Alexis to enter. A desk occupied a large part of the office, with a high-backed swivel chair behind it and two armchairs in front of it. A couch stretched along a side wall with another armchair. A welcoming coffee table decorated with a bright bouquet of flowers was positioned in front of the sofa.
“Should I, uh…” Alexis motioned to the couch.
“Oh, no. That’s all right. You can have a seat in front of the desk. Dr. Wilson will talk you through everything.”
Alexis slid into the supple leather chair, the assistant stepped out of the office, and the door clicked behind her. And then there was silence, the room so quiet that Alexis felt like she had to whisper.
She stared at the diplomas on the wall displaying the degrees the psychologist had earned. University of Pennsylvania. That reminded her of Rachel. Her half-sister was a student at the prestigious school, studying, of all things, psychology. Maybe when all this was said and done, Rachel could give Alexis some insights on her life. But for now, Dr. Wilson would have to do.
Wait, what? That was the first time Alexis had thought of Rachel without anger. Had she finally accepted that it wasn’t Rachel’s fault that their father was a jerk… and that she was okay with, and maybe even wanted, Rachel in her life?
The door behind her swooshed as it swept over the carpet. She turned in her chair… and stifled a laugh. Dr. Wilson met every criteria of a stereotypical psychologist, right down to the graying beard and cardigan sweater.
He tugged at his sweater as he rounded his desk. “It’s a requirement. When you get your doctorate, you are issued your first cardigan. The rest are on you.”
She appreciated that the doctor was trying to put her at ease. “I’m sorry. I guess I just didn’t expect Dr. Freud to walk in the door.”
“Oh, is he here?” Dr. Wilson scanned behind her, and that drew another laugh. “But really, Ms. Harper… may I call you Alexis?”
“I think you should. I mean, I’m here to tell you all my secrets, aren’t I? I feel like that puts me on a first name basis.”
He lowered himself into his chair, but he didn’t pull out a pen and paper. He simply looked at her. “Is that why you’re here? Do you have secrets you need to tell?”
Well, she guessed the niceties were over and it was time to get down to business. “So, how does this work?”
He leaned back in his chair and rested his hands on his chest. “I like to keep things simple. Talk to me like I’m your friend and you need my advice. I can’t promise that I’ll always tell you what you want to hear, but I’ll leave you with some things to consider when you walk out the door. Most of my patients feel better after they have spent time with me, so I must be doing something right.”
That sounded easy enough. She could handle that.
“Why don’t we start by you telling me a little bit about yourself?”
“Well, let’s see. I have three siblings, including a twin sister Serena.”
Dr. Wilson didn’t react at all to her words.
“Serena suggested that counseling might be good for me. I’ve, uh, it’s been a hard few years.”
Dr. Wilson finally lifted a pen and scratched a few notes on a pad. “Tell me about the past few years.”
“Where to start? Let’s see. Our father died about four years ago.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that, Alexis.”
Tears that she hadn’t shed when Dad had died pooled in her eyes. Why now, when she was trying to get a handle on the mess she had made, did he shove his way back into her life? Could be anything from Rachel to the possibility of her first real, adult relationship. “He wasn’t very nice. I mean, I loved him, at least I think I did. Who knows? But he drank a lot and he always yelled at Mom and all of us. Once my older brother and sister left home, it was just me and Serena.”
Dr. Wilson’s expression didn’t change, as though he had patients tell him that their parents were abusive alcoholics every day. As a teenager, Alexis could tell what kind of night it was going to be by the way Dad walked through the door. She thought back on the nights that her father would stay home, the cans of beer stacked on the end table next to that ugly recliner that he refused to throw out.
That scenario sounded familiar. She’d been drinking to stave off the anger that she couldn’t go back and scream at him for his behavior, for the daughter he’d ignored, or for simply not loving her enough.
“Based on that expression, it seems as though you want to say something. This is a safe place for you to say whatever you need to say.”
“I, uh, don’t know.” The realization that she could indeed be like her father ripped a raw hole in her gut. Had she become exactly like the man she loved and hated so much? “I was just thinking back on when my father was alive. He was what people call a functioning alcoholic. He took sips of liquor throughout the day and then piled on at night when he was home. Or when he wasn’t home, I presume, since that happened a lot, too.”
“Tell me what it was like when he came home.”
“I was just remembering that. Something I hadn’t thought about in a long time. I could tell what kind of mood he was in based on the way he closed the door. If he slammed it, I knew he’d had a bad day.”
“When he had a bad day, what did you do?”
This was where her internship at the paper had helped… and where her bad boys took her away from it when it became unbearable. “I got out of the house as fast as I could.” She laughed at the memory. “I can still see his face when he would hear a motorcycle revving in the driveway. He hated every one of my boyfriends and made no secret about it. And I made no secret about the fact I didn’t care.”
“So, the way you dealt with him was remove yourself from the situation?”
She hadn’t quite thought about it that way, but Dr. Wilson hit the nail on the head. “It was easier if I wasn’t around it. Then I could deny the fact that any of it was going on. I certainly didn’t let on to anyone that my Dad was a drunk.”
She’d been running ever since she was young, and the hab
it was hard to break. Was that what she was doing? As hard as she’d rebelled against her father, had she become the one thing she hated the most?
She was done denying her challenges and sweeping them under the rug. “You didn’t ask me why I was here today.”
A slightly raised eyebrow was the only sign that her statement had surprised the doctor. “I didn’t. I figured you’d tell me when you were ready.”
Alexis stared at her hands clenched in her lap. Avoiding problems had been her go-to for so long that confronting them felt wrong. “We found out a couple of years ago that we had a half-sister that we didn’t know about. From one of Dad’s many affairs. She wanted to meet us.”
“That must have been a shock. Have you met her?”
“We have. We’ve seen her several times and met her brothers and their families.” Despite everything, Alexis liked Rachel. There was something in the other woman’s eyes, a deep emotion that drew Alexis in. Maybe Rachel’s life wasn’t the idyllic one Alexis had spun in her head—a life where her parents didn’t fight and her father wasn’t an alcoholic.
“Those are positive steps. There’s no reason the children, on either side, should suffer the sins of their parents. So, you came in today to help you deal with the fact you have a half-sister you didn’t know about?”
“Not exactly.” She’d always heard the expression ‘don’t ask a question you don’t already know the answer to’. Was that what Dr. Wilson was doing? Was broaching the subject of Rachel a precursor to the root of what had driven Alexis to his office today?
Her heart raced and she tried to draw in a few deep breaths. Her hands shook and she clasped them in her lap, but they wouldn’t stop. Serena’s pleas may have been the impetus for her visit, but the reality was that she’d acknowledged that she needed help.
“A couple of weeks ago, I was out with some friends, drinking and dancing. I got really drunk, and this guy tried to take me home. I wasn’t really in a position to object, if you know what I mean.” Heat crept up her cheeks. She hadn’t told anyone about that night. She’d avoided explaining to Serena how she met Chris, and all Jessica knew was that she’d met Chris after her friend left. “Another man stepped in and got me away from that jerk and drove me home. I got lucky.”
Calling Chris “another man” didn’t do him justice, but she wasn’t sure how to describe how important he’d become to her since that day. As much as she wanted to discuss Chris, to give Dr. Wilson a chance to help her sort the jumble of feelings in her mind, that wasn’t why she was here.
“That sounds scary.”
“My siblings have been bugging me for a while about my drinking. I mean, they drink, too, so why were they getting on my case?” She stopped herself. She couldn’t blame Justin, Serena, and Izzy for being concerned. Her situation was not the same as theirs, and neither was her drinking. “They’ve been saying I drink too much, and too often, and I’m wondering if they’re right.”
“Do you think you drink too much?”
“If I knew the answer to that question, I wouldn’t be here, would I?” Her laughter gave her a moment to hide from the reality of her life. “But honestly, I realized the other day that I was drinking to help me work. I’m a writer. And then I’d go out with my friends to celebrate a good day with more alcohol. I realized it wasn’t the same as my siblings. I had to face the possibility I was out of control.”
“I think that your personal insight is a good sign. And the fact you’re here tells me that you want things to be different, but you need some help to get there.”
Boy, didn’t she know it. She thought about Chris, the night that he’d brought her home, the image of his face burned on her mind. He had not once made her feel bad about drinking or harped on her like her siblings.
She was crazy attracted to him. When he’d left her on the porch the other night, it was all she could do not to chase after him and beg him to finish what he’d started. To lose herself in him for a few short hours.
Chris knew her, at least the parts of her she’d let him see, and he still wanted to be with her. She didn’t want to mess that up.
“In my experience, people who drink usually have something else going on that triggers that need. A lot of people drink to numb the pain. I’m sure that was the case with your father, even if you didn’t see it. Next time, I’d like to talk a little more about some situations in which you felt you needed to drink, and we’ll get to the bottom of what’s going on with you. The best way to address this isn’t to talk about the drinking but the reason why you drink. Take away that reason and you’ve handled the hardest part.”
Next time? She’d just gotten here. A quick glance at her phone told her otherwise. “Wow, I didn’t realize I’ve already been here an hour.” She rose to her feet. “Thank you so much, Dr. Wilson.”
He rounded his desk and perched on the edge. “You’re very welcome, Alexis. I want to warn you, though… this is hard work. I’m probably going to make you talk about things you’d rather not and force you to question everything you think and know about your life to this point. But I believe you’re up for the challenge.”
She wasn’t sure about that, but it was worth a shot.
Chapter 11
The clicking of the keyboard pounded into Chris’s head like a nail, each one driving harder and harder until he felt the pressure in his forehead. How much data did the detective have to enter before he could pull up Robin’s case? Shouldn’t he have a file on his desk, open and ready every day?
“Mr. Kennedy, we—”
“Please call me Chris. I think we know each other well enough to warrant first names.”
“All right, Chris. I am happy to report that we got the result of the DNA analysis back from the crime lab. I’m sorry for the delay. The state lab had a major backlog. We are now in the process of running that through the system. If we’re lucky, the guy who did this has committed a crime before and his DNA is on file.”
It had been so long since they’d had a lead that Chris was afraid to feel any hope at the detective’s words. Until this bastard paid for what he had done, Chris couldn’t move forward with the rest of his life. “What’s taking so long? Can’t you just click a few buttons and get a match?”
“Unfortunately, it doesn’t quite work like you see on Law & Order. You probably know that as well as I do, being that you’re a reporter. These kind of matches take time.”
Of course, he knew it wasn’t as easy at that, but he lost all objectivity when it came to his twin sister. His other half. The hole in his heart was like a fist reaching in and gripping tight, making it hard to breathe at times.
He thought he’d experienced the worst life could deal him when their parents had died. Even though he and Robin were twins, he’d become the parent figure in her life. They helped each other through the grief. He’d even moved to Cedar Hill three years ago because Robin had made her home here and he wanted to be closer to her.
But losing his parents had been a mere pinprick compared to seeing his sister’s body sprawled in the woods. All it had taken was one night, one jerk who’d stolen something that wasn’t his. The parallels between Robin’s body being found behind FitzGerald’s and his meeting Alexis at the same bar weren’t lost on him. If he hadn’t gone out with his friends that night hoping to find a witness to Robin’s murder, he might never have met Alexis. And she could have ended up exactly like Robin. He shuddered to think he could have lost her before he even knew her.
He’d told himself he was better off staying single after his parents died. He hadn’t wanted to get married and have kids—why would he risk leaving a family behind like their parents had? And then after Robin’s death, he had built barriers around his heart to avoid the loss of anyone else important to him.
Until he’d met Alexis… and she’d turned his entire world upside down. She made him reconsider his well-constructed walls.
“Has there been any progress on identifying a witness? I’ve been to FitzGeralds a few
times recently, but I haven’t found anyone that knew anything.”
“All I can tell you, Chris, is that we are following up on some leads. I hope to have information for you soon. It would be better if you didn’t try to investigate on your own. I know that’s what you’d do if you were a reporter following this case, but you’re the victim’s family. We don’t want anything to jeopardize the conviction of the perp once we have him—and that includes interference by well-meaning family members.”
Chris sighed and sank into the hard plastic chair. Sitting on the sidelines wasn’t in his DNA. Especially when it involved someone he loved. “I know you’re right. It’s hard to do nothing while Robin’s killer is out there, possibly doing this to some other woman.”
“Often in cases like this it’s an isolated incident. Someone panicked and went too far trying to cover his tracks. This doesn’t have the signs of a pattern killer but an amateur. We’ll find him.”
“It’s been almost a year. How long can it take? And really, do you expect to catch the guy after all this time?”
“Unfortunately, in suspected stranger killings, investigations take longer than you think. Just because you haven’t seen an arrest doesn’t mean we aren’t working your case. I promise you, we are.”
It sure didn’t feel as though they had made any progress. He understood they couldn’t tell him everything, but that didn’t stop the pain—every day without Robin and without her killer behind bars, a little bit of his heart died. “I guess I can’t ask for anything else. You’ll call me if you get a hit on the DNA?”
Detective Balkin extended his hand. “You’ll be my first call. Thanks for stopping by. I know it’s hard, the waiting game, but I hope to have some news for you soon.”
Chasing Strength: A Small Town Steamy Romance (Harper Family series Book 4) Page 11