by Jenny Lynn
“Sounds good, what’s next?” he asked.
“Mains,” Chef Brandon replied. “Salmon, lamb, prime rib, duck or chicken. It’s nice to give guests an option between two.”
“Then let’s dive in,” Nicholas said as a glass of wine was poured for him.
We continued sampling into the evening, tasting our way through mains and sides onto desserts. I couldn’t eat another bite so we were left with samples to decide on dessert table options. The kitchen crew cleaned up as we spoke with Stephanie, and after an hour everyone had left. I dropped onto the sofa with a sigh while Nicholas poured more wine.
“We still need to try the pastries,” I told him.
“In a bit,” he told me, handing me my glass. “We have all night.”
“I’m going to need to be up early,” I said with a smile putting my wine down as he bent to kiss my neck. “I’m going to Elgin with Doctor Shaffer tomorrow, I need to meet him at nine.”
Nicholas pulled back. “I didn’t know that.”
“And I didn’t know you were going to be late today,” I countered.
“You’re right,” he conceded. “I should have told you. Well then, we have a few hours. And I know a way we can work up an appetite for sweets.” His eyes grew dark and determined, he ran his hands from my legs up my arms, grabbing my wrists and pinning me down beneath him on the couch. I sighed, closing my eyes and feeling his lips close over mine. He knew exactly how to awaken my body, and I would never grow tired of surrendering to him.
6
My hand was on the car handle then Nicholas touched my shoulder. “I know there are guards, but be careful,” he told me.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” I assured him. “This is a world-renowned facility with security, and besides, Doctor Shaffer will be leading the session. I’ll be mainly observing,”
“I know, but still. Be safe, Breanne.”
“I’ll see you tonight, Nicholas,” I said, then kissed him. I pushed the door open and stepped onto the sidewalk outside of Doctor Shaffer’s office. I waved as the driver pulled away from the curb, then heard my name from up ahead.
“Breanne,” said Doctor Shaffer’s familiar voice. He was seated in a black Cadillac and reached across to push the passenger side door open for me. I walked over and lowered myself inside the smooth interior. “All set to go?” he asked.
“I am,” I said with a nod. He started the engine and pulled away, weaving in and out of the streets with ease. I knew it was about an hour to the Elgin Mental Health Centre. The silence was comfortable, but I had a question that was weighing on me that I needed to ask. “I did some research on Randy Wilkes,” I said. Doctor Shaffer glanced at me, then back at the road.
“Anything catch your interest?” he asked.
“He’s manipulative, a narcissist, I’d even say he has sociopathic tendencies.”
“It will be interesting to see if your impression changes after you meet him,” he mused.
“Did yours change?”
Doctor Shaffer was quiet a moment. “Randy is a puzzle. I thought I had pieced him together correctly and glimpsed his full picture. But I have my doubts. That’s why I continue to visit him.”
“And since I’m focused on studying deception you thought he would be a good patient for me to meet,” I probed.
“Exactly,” he agreed.
“But,” I said as I watched his profile. “That’s not the only reason you offered to bring me.” Doctor Shaffer was quiet, so I continued. “His victims, I look just like they do. I fit the profile. By bringing me, you’re wondering if you’ll get a different reaction from him.”
Doctor Shaffer sighed, slowing the car, then looked over at me. “The thought did cross my mind, Breanne; It wasn’t the only reason, but it was a factor. I’m sorry I didn’t disclose that to you. If you would like me to drop you back at home I will. As I mentioned, Randy is a particular case that has perplexed me for years.”
“I’d still like to go,” I assured him. “I just prefer to have all of the information.”
“From this point on I promise to be more upfront with you, Breanne,” Doctor Shaffer said with a smile. I nodded and we continued towards our destination and the first real exposure to my field of study that I would experience. It was thrilling — I was practically on the edge of my seat as we approached the facility. The building was nondescript and angular, with two large smokestacks stretching ominously towards the sky. It made me feel so small, so inexperienced. I glanced at Doctor Shaffer, calm and tall behind the wheel. This was going to be my future, I realized. This was the career, the life I was preparing myself for. We drove through the security gate, down the long paved drive. There was no one outside, no activity, just an ominous stillness. We pulled off to the side into a parking lot when Doctor Shaffer turned to me. “Ready to go?” he asked.
I slipped my bag over my shoulder and nodded, then we both exited the car and headed for the building. We gave our names at the front desk and were both given visitor ID badges. Everyone seemed to know Doctor Shaffer; they nodded politely and treated him with the utmost respect while looking at me with curiosity.
“I’ll take them in from here,” said a nasal voice behind me. I turned and saw an older man with greying hair, short and stocky, standing with a clipboard. He extended a pudgy hand towards Doctor Shaffer who shook it firmly.
“Doctor Crane,” Shaffer said. “Nice to see you again. This is the student I mentioned would be accompanying me today, Breanne Taylor.”
The man turned his attention towards me, scanning me through his thick glasses, before turning to Doctor Shaffer. “She’s young,” he quipped.
“Students often tend to be,” Doctor Shaffer said with a shrug.
“You know what I mean,” Crane replied. “She’s young and pretty, in fact, we both know she looks familiar to the women Randy abducted. Are you purposely trying to get a reaction out of him?”
“I’m simply taking an interest in providing development opportunities for Breanne, a very promising young student.” The men stared at each other for a moment, it stretched on into an awkward silence while various wails laughs and screams echoed through the halls. I held my head high and waited for one of them to say something, anything. Finally, Doctor Crane turned and started down the hall. We followed behind as he went around the corner. He used his key to unlock a thick steel door, then locked it behind us. We went down another series of hallways until we came to a stop outside a room with a guard standing to the side.
“He’s in here,” Crane said with a curt nod. He took a step away, then turned back to fix Shaffer with a stern gaze. In a hushed tone, I could just barely make out Crane’s words: “If anything happens to her, it’s on you,” he cautioned.
“She’ll be perfectly safe,” Shaffer reassured him. Crane left and the guard opened the door, ushering us inside. I looked around the dingy room, the white paint chipped in random places along the wall. There was a table in the room with chairs, but the chairs were all empty. I turned to see the silhouette of a man, his hands behind his back, standing and staring out the bars of the window.
“Hello, Randy,” Doctor Shaffer greeted him as he set his briefcase down on the table.
“Doctor Shaffer,” said the man, still gazing out the window. His voice was smooth, somewhat predatory. I couldn’t take my eyes off his silhouette, my heart starting to race with the realization I was in a small room with a known killer. “It’s been a while. To what pleasure do I owe your visit? I’m sure you’re not here to apologize for your testimony at my appeal last month.”
“No, Randy, I’m not. I’m here to see how you are doing and if you are finding continued treatment by Doctor Crane helpful.” Randy let out a short laugh, continuing to ignore our presence. “I also thought this was a good opportunity to bring a student I’ve met as a learning opportunity.”
Randy craned his head to glance over his shoulder, then I saw his body visibly stiffen. Slowly, he turned to face us. He shot D
octor Shaffer a menacing look, then he turned his attention to me. “What are you studying?” Randy asked me.
“Psychology, with an interest in forensics,” I told him. He took a step forward and I flinched instinctively. Randy pulled out a chair then sat down, gesturing for me to do the same from across the table.
“So you’re here to get inside my head… I never got your name.”
“Breanne Taylor. I’m here to observe and to learn from Doctor Shaffer,” I explained.
“The world-renowned expert, Doctor Shaffer. Did he tell you he testified to keep me locked up here, despite Doctor Crane and other experts saying I’m rehabilitated? He studied me, had me placed in this facility rather than a jail. You see, when it happened I was young and I heard voices. They told me to do things, horrible things. But that was a long time ago. I’m a changed man now.”
“I don’t think you’re quite ready yet for release, Randy,” Doctor Shaffer interjected. “If it’s true that you’re doing better, extending your treatment will only be beneficial.”
Randy didn’t look at Doctor Shaffer, he continued to stare at me with his dark eyes. His finger was drawing patterns on the table as he watched me intently. “You know why I’m in here?” he asked me.
“I do,” I told him. “You abducted women.”
He tensed, his knuckles white as he pressed his hands against the table. “I had a sickness, Breanne. The voices told me to take them. That they were a gift for me. I took care of them, then when it was time to say goodbye I did what I had to do. But it was wrong. With therapy and medication I see that now.”
“What were you acting out?” I asked. “Why did you dress them the way you did?”
Randy sighed and looked up at the right corner of the room. “They were just clothes I found appealing, attractive, there’s nothing more to it than that.” He lowered his head and stared at me. “You would also look beautiful in them.”
“I thought you didn’t have those urges anymore Randy, that you didn’t view women that way now,” Doctor Shaffer said. Randy maintained eye contact with me as he spoke.
“I was simply explaining to Breanne that my wardrobe choices had no deeper meaning than showing off the natural shape of a woman. You know what I mean, don’t you, Breanne? You’re attractive, and from the size of the engagement ring on your finger someone else knows it too. Don’t you feel eyes on you, following you, admiring you? We can’t help it, it’s human nature. Our eyes follow the things we want, the things we’re burning to possess.”
“Women, human beings, are not possessions, Mr. Wilkes,” I stated firmly. “Part of your treatment should be reinforcing that.”
“If you don’t think Doctor Crane is treating me properly, I would be willing to let you inside my head, Breanne,” Randy told me with a wink.
“What changes to your thought process have taken place in the years since you’ve been a patient here, Mr. Wilkes?” I asked.
“Well to start, I no longer hear voices. My medication has helped me in that way, and I’m no longer paranoid.”
“These voices you heard, were they male or female?” I asked. Randy tilted his head and looked at me.
“They told me these women needed to be taken, to be mine.”
“That’s not what I asked, Mr. Wilkes. I wanted to know what the voices sounded like, whether they were the voices of a real person you had heard before or if they were new. If they were men or women.” Randy’s jaw tightened. “Have you ever been asked that before?” I pressed.
“They were whispers, they had no gender that I could tell,” he told me as he folded his fingers together. He was staring right at me, his wide pupils making his dark eyes appear even more sinister. “The thing about voices in your head, Breanne, is there is no escaping them. It’s not like I could cover my ears and shut them out — they were always there. And after a while, they were very persistent, what they told me started to make sense. The mind is a powerful thing. Now, locked away in here, my mind is one of the only forms of escape I have.”
“Where do you go in your mind when you want to escape?” I asked.
“The woods, among the tall trees and smell of earth,” he told me. “Or water, still sheets of cool water lapping against rocks. Quiet places, away from people.”
“Do you dislike people?”
Randy laughed. “I spend my days locked in a facility with sick minds, shrieks and screams in the night. Solitude is something I would welcome, but that being said, I’m not upset here talking to you now.”
“What would you have done, if your appeal went through and you were released?”
“You mean if the good Doctor Shaffer hadn’t used his influence to keep me locked away like an animal?” Randy said with a snarl. Doctor Shaffer sat quietly in his chair, watching us interact. “As I told the panel, I would be looking for a job so that I could become a productive member of society. I would be shopping for groceries and making myself a nice, home-cooked meal. Maybe a steak. You wouldn’t believe how awful the food is in here, Breanne. I would be visiting the movie theatre and seeing a film on the big screen. I would be living my life after ten years spent locked away. I was sick, I’m not sick anymore.”
There was a knock at the door, Doctor Crane came in. “I think that’s enough time, Randy, you can head back to your quarters now. The guard will escort you.”
“But we just arrived,” Doctor Shaffer interjected. “We were only getting started.”
“You were told that you could see Randy. You’ve seen him. Now, it’s time for you to go,” Doctor Crane told us.
We all stood and Randy went towards the door where the guard was waiting. He stopped and turned to me.
“If you have any more questions, Breanne, I hope you visit again. You’re very inquisitive. I can see why Doctor Shaffer has taken an interest in you. He’s a very shrewd man.” With that Randy was led out and down the hall, and Doctor Crane escorted Doctor Shaffer and me back through the building.
“I still think you made a mistake,” Doctor Crane quipped as we turned in our visitor badges. “Why the panel agreed with your assessment over mine when I have been treating him is beyond me. It’s all political. You saw for yourself he’s a changed man, you tried to bait him by bringing her but it didn’t work. He’s reformed.”
“If you say so Doctor Crane,” Doctor Shaffer told the man. I kept my head high and extended my hand.
“Thank you for allowing me to visit your facility, Doctor Crane,” I said. He looked at my hand without extending his own to shake it.
“Permission came from higher up. If you’re going to make it in this field, Breanne, there are more important things than who you know. You should learn that lesson early.” With that, he turned and walked away. I placed my hand at my side and followed Doctor Shaffer back out to the car. We pulled out and got onto the road, the building and its patients shrinking in the distance. While we drove, Doctor Shaffer turned to me.
“Well, what do you think, Breanne?” he asked me.
“I appreciate you bringing me, it was very interesting,” I told him.
“What is your impression of Randy Wilkes?”
“It was a very brief meeting and I’m not exactly qualified to analyze him, but, I think you made the right decision against his release.”
“Elaborate,” Doctor Shaffer said as he kept his eyes on the road.
“He’s convincing, I can see how he gave many people the impression that he’s not a threat. But I could sense something in him, there is still a darkness there that he tries hard to keep under control. Everything from the words he chooses to his movements is very calculated like he is playing a role.”
“Do you have anything to support your suspicions?”
“His body language. Often when I asked him to recall details he looked up and to the right, which is the part of the brain for creating details not recalling them. His pupils were also dilated, and he would fidget when I questioned him about past events. He would catch himself and stop,
but he exhibited throughout our meeting many indications of deceptive behavior.”
“Good, Breanne, very good. With myself and other Psychiatrists who have evaluated him he had been very much in control, but you got a different reaction from him. He wasn’t able to focus on you while still maintaining his act. There were cracks, and it reaffirmed my suspicions about him.”
“What suspicions are those exactly?” I asked.
“That he’s not mentally ill, that he’s a psychopath,” he told me.
As we sped along the highway back to Chicago, I kept my arms wrapped around myself even though it was a warm day. Today I had been offered a glimpse into my future, a career where I would assess and examine dangerous minds. It was quiet except for the roar of the engine, but in my mind the echoes of laughter and screams continued. I was bringing the experience, and a piece of the facility, back with me.
7
After my morning class, I was spending the afternoon adding details about my meeting with the infamous Randy Wilkes to my paper. It was purely observational, but I was able to cite research on physical signs of deception and the real-life case study I hoped would help give my paper another level of professionalism. It was odd not having a work schedule anymore, freeing up large portions of my time. When I visited the admission office to make a payment for my second semester I was informed the balance had already been paid. I didn’t even have to ask, I knew Nicholas was behind it and had to take a deep breath to calm myself. Paying for my own school had been important to me, and I still had enough in my savings to cover the next semester. But Nicholas was a stubborn man who did not view money the same way I did.
I left the office and had an idea. I went to the student aid building and made an on the spot donation in the amount I would have spent on my second semester. When the receptionist excitedly asked my name, I told her to credit Nicholas Blackstone. Leaving the office I had a wide smile on my face. I was lucky to not have to worry about covering the cost of my tuition, and thanks to Nicholas I was able to pay it forward for another struggling student. Everything came full circle.