The Patient Page 19

I hid a yawn behind my hand.

  “Didn’t get enough sleep last night?” She poured copious amounts of sugar into her mug before stirring. “Why aren’t you taking those pills I gave you?”

  I yawned again. My eyes smarted this time. “You know I don’t like self-medicating.”

  She peeked over the rim of her cup as she took a sip. “I don’t like this.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not. Are you watching television too late? Reading? On your phone? You know, they say screen time at night disturbs your sleep patterns.”

  I didn’t even bother to hide my eye roll.

  “Hey, someone needs to look after you. Who else is going to do it if I don’t?”

  I almost snapped back but caught the twinkle in her eye, so I smiled instead before I bit into a piece of strawberry.

  “What would I do without you?” I let a tiny bit of sarcasm leak into my voice.

  Honestly, though, what would I do without her? I wasn’t too sure.

  “How are you?” I asked after pushing my bowl of fruit toward her. She’d been eyeing it ever since she’d sat down. “You look about as exhausted as I feel.”

  The rings beneath her eyes were more pronounced, darker, fuller, deeper.

  “Bone tired is more like it. I could sleep for a week, and I’d still feel the same way.” She leaned back in her chair. “I’m not doing enough.”

  Her voice was full of anger, agony, and anxiety, raw emotions she rarely revealed, let alone admitted to.

  I reached out to grasp her hand. “You’ve got this, Tami. I know you. You won’t fail those children. You’ll find the killer.”

  The emptiness in her gaze reminded me of a moonless sky in the dead of night.

  “I’ve already failed them, Dani. I’m going to fail even more families before this ends if we don’t catch the killer soon. I know you want to encourage me, but you don’t have to. I’m more than aware of my shortcomings,” she confessed. “My own supervisor is starting to doubt my skills.”

  She rubbed her face before closing her eyes and dropping her head.

  I wasn’t sure if she had fallen asleep or was about to whisper a prayer.

  “It’s media madness outside the station. No matter how tight of a lid I keep on all of this, things are getting out.” She rolled her head then, slowly, until she’d completed a full circle.

  “Why don’t you go home and have a nap? Surely you can get away for a few hours?” She was going to fall apart if she didn’t start taking better care of herself.

  Her answer formed on her lips, then disappeared. “That actually might be a good idea,” she said. “I basically pulled a double.”

  Her fingers flew over her phone before she turned it facedown on the table.

  “I’ll head back in later this afternoon.” She drank more of her coffee and then picked at the last bits of fruit in the bowl. “Mind me popping in tonight?”

  “Not if you bring some ice cream with you and stay the night. I could use the company, to be honest. Any news about Tyler?” I drank the last bit of my coffee and considered asking for another refill.

  “Yeah, about him. I did a background check.” Her nose wrinkled. “Can you refer him to someone else?” Tami asked.

  “Should I be worried?”

  “I didn’t like what I found—or, rather, what I didn’t. He gave you a false name, so I couldn’t pull anything up. I’ll dig deeper, but until I get more info, I want you to be careful. Okay?” Her brow rose as she gave me a stern look.

  It had been a long time since I’d felt such protection.

  I needed to tell her about Ava. I wanted to, but whenever I held her name on the tip of my tongue, I hesitated. I was worried for Ella, worried that she was being influenced by someone who would hurt her in the end, and that was the last thing she needed. But before I placed a spotlight on Ella and her past, I needed to make sure I was right.

  Above all, my goal was to protect Ella. I knew she wasn’t the murderer.

  “Hey, I have a question I’ve been meaning to ask.”

  Tami’s smile dropped.

  “Yesterday I happened to be at the library when several police cars pulled up.”

  She nodded.

  “Was everything okay?”

  “You were there?” I seemed to have caught her off guard. “You weren’t on the list.”

  Now it was my turn to be surprised.

  I leaned forward and whispered, “There’s a list?”

  “Why are you whispering?” she asked, copying my body movement and tone of voice. “You realize we are alone in here, right?” she said a little louder.

  I glanced around. Not even the barista was in the room.

  “Of course there is a list. We had to make note of everyone who was in the library. Where were you?”

  “Not in the library.”

  “You just told me you were.” Her words were laced with confusion.

  “I was with Ella on a park bench.” I hid another yawn behind my hand. “She’s missed too many sessions, and I’d hoped to catch her on a break. We sat outside for a bit talking, and that’s when I saw the cars.”

  Tami’s face scrunched up into one of those I’m-thinking-too-hard-and-my-brain-hurts looks. “Ella? She wasn’t on the list either.” Tami’s eyes tightened, the wrinkles more pronounced. “Danielle.” She leaned forward and rested her crossed arms on the table. “We talked to everyone who was on the park grounds as well. Neither you nor Ella were on that list.” There was a mixture of disbelief laced with worry in her voice.

  I leaned back, away from her. “Well, I was there. I was outside, on the far side of the park. You know the slight hill? That’s where I was sitting with Ella. We both saw the cars.”

  “Shit.” Gone was the worry, and in its place was tension.

  “What’s the problem?” I asked. “Why are you getting upset with me?”

  Tami’s whole demeanor changed. Gone were the tired lines, the exhausted haze in her eyes, the wilted shoulders and look of ease.

  Gone was Tami, my friend, and in her place was Detective Tami Sloan, the sharp-eyed, tough detective who’d fought her way to where she was because she was smart and didn’t let anything pass her by.

  What had I done? I didn’t understand. All I’d done was ask a simple question.

  “I’m not upset. I’m just trying to piece everything together. I don’t have either you or your patient on my list, and that makes me wonder who made a mistake. I don’t like mistakes being made, not on my watch. You know that.”

  “Right.” I let out a hesitant breath. “It’s really not that big of a deal, Tami. I must have left before your officers were out in the park, because I only recall seeing them walk into the library. They were in there awhile. I eventually left and went home.”

  “What about Ella?”

  “Ella? What about her?” I became alert. The mama-bear roar rumbled deep within me, and I was resolved to do anything to protect her.

  “You said you were there to talk with her during her break,” Tami said. “Was it her lunch break or after her shift?” She pulled out her slim notebook and opened it, ready to write down whatever answer I provided.

  “I’m not sure.”

  Her right brow rose in disbelief.

  “Honestly, I have no idea. I found her there, sitting on the bench.”

  She scratched notes down. “Did she go back into the library or leave with you?”

  I was about to admit she’d left once the police had arrived, but I knew how that would sound.

  I couldn’t lie either.

  “We both left at the same time.” It wasn’t a lie. The moment I’d realized she was gone, I hadn’t stuck around. I’d headed back home, stopping at the grocery store for some fresh vegetables.

  A mask swept over her face. “You know, I’ve actually never seen Ella. I remember there were times I’d just missed seeing her. Can you describe her to me?”

  Describe Ella? The more Tami spok
e, the more anxious I became. Ella was the sweetest soul around, but she’d be crucified if her past were ever discovered.

  Knowing Tami, it would be.

  “She’s not a suspect, is she?” I straightened in my chair, my grip around my empty mug tight.

  I released the mug and hid my hands in my lap, fisting them together until my nails dug into my skin.

  “Right now, everyone is a suspect until I rule them out.”

  The mother bear in me came out.

  “She didn’t do this, Tami.” I would fight tooth and nail for Ella if I had to. I loved Tami and trusted her, but I wouldn’t allow Ella to be destroyed.

  “I need a description, Dani. Please? Don’t make this harder than it needs to be, okay?” The weariness I’d noticed before settled back on my friend like wet cement.

  Ella wasn’t the only one who needed my protection. Tami was just as important to me, and I didn’t want her to get destroyed by this case either.

  “She’s about my height with light-brown hair. She wears skirts or long dresses with flats. Size wise, we could probably trade clothes. Wears glasses.” I counted off a description of what I could see in my head. “Actually, she’s what you’d assume a typical librarian to look like.”

  Tami’s head bobbed as she wrote down the description I’d given.

  “Funny.” Tami closed her book and set the pen down on the table. “That’s the description that was called in, and yet she seemed to vanish by the time we arrived.”

  “What do you mean, called in?” The muscles between my shoulders snapped tight.

  “The head librarian.” She paused and looked up. The barista approached with a pot of coffee in hand. Tami covered her cup with the palm of her hand while I held mine out. I needed all the coffee I could get.

  “She noticed someone in the library who caught her attention,” Tami continued once we were alone again. “We’ve been looking for a connection between the killer and victims and have narrowed it down to family programs.”

  “You think the killer was in the library?” My skin iced over in a deep freeze from the blast of wind through the open window, its chilled fingertips dancing up my arm and settling deep into my shoulders.

  Tami nodded.

  My gasp came out more like a hiccup as I realized I’d been there, walking through the bookshelves in search of Ella, at the same time as the killer.

  “It’s not Ella.” A piece of my heart tore out of me with my words.

  I was torn. Torn between my love for Tami and my protective feelings for Ella. I knew it wasn’t Ella, but unless I managed to convince Tami of the same, my patient would be judged and convicted by everyone in this town. I wouldn’t do that to her based on my own fears. Not unless I knew for sure Ava was involved.

  “You don’t know that, Dani.” She watched me, eyes narrowed, deep in thought.

  “You don’t know it is either.” I needed her to forget about Ella, to get her off her radar.

  “Let me meet her, and then I will.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “You’re saying no?”

  I hated saying no, but I had to.

  “Are you going to make me get a warrant?” A hard glint appeared in Tami’s gaze.

  “It’s not Ella,” I repeated, desperate to have her believe me.

  Tami pushed her cup forward and stood. The disappointment on her face cut deep.

  “It would be better for her if she came to the station willingly. If you talk to her before I do, warn her I’m looking for her, please.” She grabbed her purse and pushed in her chair.

  “Tami, please.”

  “Please what? I have a duty, Danielle. You do realize that, don’t you? There’s a killer on the loose, and if your patient isn’t guilty, then there’s nothing to worry about. Unless you know something you don’t want to tell me.”

  So many thoughts rolled through my head. Ella’s past, the similarities to the murders, her roommate . . .

  “Can you give me some time? Time to check into something first? Please?” I would do anything, even beg, for Ella. I believed in her, I knew she couldn’t have done this, but I didn’t know her roommate. Guilt by association would destroy Ella, however, and I wasn’t about to do that to her if I didn’t have to.

  “Fine, but you need to answer something for me first.” She was solid, like dried concrete. “Tell me where Ella went when you left the library park. Did she leave with you or return to the building?”

  That should have been a simple question, one that I could answer with ease, without hesitation.

  Except I couldn’t, for one simple reason that would eat away at me for a very long time.

  “I can’t.” I cleared my throat. “I wish I could, but I can’t.”

  “Oh for Pete’s sake, Danielle. It’s a simple question!” Frustration laced her tone. Failure filled her gaze. “I can’t believe you, of all people, would—”

  “Tami,” I interrupted her, not wanting to hear the rest, afraid of what she’d say and the damage it would inflict. “I can’t tell you because I don’t know.” Regret ate away at me. Regret because I knew what my next words would mean and the impact they would have on Ella.

  “I’ve no idea where she went. While I was so focused on the action taking place outside the library, she slipped away without a word.”

  “Dani . . .” Disappointment lined the way she said my name.

  “I know how that looks, I really do, but I need you to trust me,” I begged. “Please trust me. I know it wasn’t Ella. I’d bet my life on that.”

  For the longest second, Tami closed her eyes.

  “Unfortunately,” she said, her voice as calm as the morning after an ice storm, “there are too many lives at stake for me to trust that.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  SATURDAY, AUGUST 24

  The sky was washed in a beautiful blanket of summer colors. Red and orange blended together to create a gorgeous canvas for the setting sun. It was a nice break from the rain we’d had all day.

  I left the house to shake the cobwebs from my mind. A good walk might help me sleep later. Fingers crossed.

  The park was quiet, too quiet. Almost eerie. A single note whistled through the branches, rustling the leaves heavy with dew. A light fog covered the ground, hovering just over the blades of grass, reminding me of that movie where the mist was inhabited by dangerous creatures. I waited for withering blades of grass to greet me as I walked the paths, sure that death either followed or led the way.

  The guilt of not telling Tami about the notes, about Ava, hounded me like a shadow. I’d never kept anything from my best friend before. I could validate my hesitation and blame it on the stress Tami was under, my own doubts, lack of sleep, or anything else, but no matter how I spun it, it all came out to the same thing—I was afraid. Plain and simple.

  A sense of restlessness grew as I walked. Normally I’d take my time, meander through the winding pathways, stop and lightly touch each of the statues, and take a look at the gardens. Not tonight. Tonight, all I focused on was the mist, the way it swirled around me, similar to the thoughts in my brain.

  It didn’t take long until I hit the edge of the park. If I turned left, I’d head toward the tea party section designed as a children’s play area. Right would take me to the White Rabbit’s house section.

  Straight led me to a farmer’s field full of corn.

  A sudden touch of lethargy hit me, and I slowed my pace. Maybe that was all I needed. To be so tired my brain was free to recall those things I tried to control. Maybe. Maybe I should have stopped psychoanalyzing myself too.

  I remained silent as a scene played out in my mind where I sat in the library, a heavy book on my lap, as Ella read to a group of children circled around her. She could have read all day. I loved the sound of her voice, the hitches, whispers, grumblings, and silliness that came out of her tiny frame. I was so proud of her, amazed at how far she’d come since her years in prison.

  I couldn’t
let Tami destroy her. She wouldn’t mean to, I knew that, but it would happen all the same. Word would spread no matter how careful or cautious Tami was.

  I didn’t realize where I was until I stood on a hill in the farmer’s field, looking at a derelict building in the distance.

  It was the type of old wooden structure you knew had once been a home but now looked as if a strong gust of wind could blow it away. The wood had darkened with age, boards were missing, and half the roof had caved in, but there was a car to the side that looked fairly new.

  I couldn’t even begin to guess the age of the building, but something about it unsettled me.

  That feeling when you turn down an unmarked road and get shivers all over your body? When you walk down a long, dark hallway and swear you feel the breath of someone behind you? That was the feeling that raged through me like a waterfall, gushing over the edge, racing to meet the bottom.

  I turned from the home as fast as I could, walked an alternate pathway that led me toward safety. Toward my home. My steps were heavy, my mind weary.

  I stood in my bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror. I didn’t like what I saw—too many tired lines beneath my eyes, heaviness on my shoulders, the way my eyes weren’t clear, bright, or focused.

  I needed to sleep, and yet I knew that the minute I lay down on the bed, I’d be wide awake, my brain playing a game with me, unable to shut off.

  The pills Tami had bought me sat beside my bed. I held two in my hand. Taking them would bring the sleep my body desperately needed.

  Taking them would also mean waking up groggy, disoriented, with a feeling of heaviness that wouldn’t leave for hours.

  I hated taking pills. Any kind of pills. But I hated how I felt at that moment even more.

  Tami was right.

  Dr. Brown was right.

  I needed sleep. I needed rest. I needed to be at my best so I could help my patients, and those pills might hold the key.

  Without another thought, I placed the pills in my mouth, gulped half the water in my glass, and closed my eyes.

  How long would it take for them to start working, for me to fade away into a restful sleep? Would it be restful or the sleep of the dead, when anything and everything could happen and I wouldn’t hear it?