Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 78227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“Can we bring Mom in on this?” I ask. “She’ll know exactly what we’re dealing with.”
Dad sighs. “Yeah. Go ahead and get her, Brock. I hate to burden her with this, but she is an expert. Can you stay on the line, Jeff?”
“Absolutely.”
I leave the office, my heart pounding. I find Mom in her own office, working on her book. I check my watch. It’s nine p.m. already.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Hi, honey. What are you doing over here so late?”
“I’m talking to Dad and Uncle Bryce in his office. And we need you.”
“Oh?”
I clear my throat. “Yeah. We need your…expert opinion.”
Mom rises and widens her eyes. “Regarding what?”
“I’d better let Dad explain. Can you come?”
“Of course.”
We walk together to Dad’s office, and then we enter without knocking.
“Jonah?” Mom says.
“Sit down, baby.”
“Okay.”
Mom sits next to Uncle Bryce, and I sit on her other side, facing Dad at his desk.
“I’ve got Jeff Grayhawk on the phone. He’s our computer hacker.”
“Hacker? What are you hacking?” Mom asks.
“It’s a long story, sweetie, but we need your expert opinion.”
“What the hell are you guys into?” Mom asks.
“We’re not into anything,” I tell Mom.
“Like I said, it’s a long story, Melanie,” Dad says. “And I’ll tell you everything, but right now, Jeff’s on the line and we need the basics. Can you explain the treatment for antisocial personality disorder?”
“That’s a loaded question,” she says. “It might be easier to explain the existence of God.”
“We know it’s a tough diagnosis.” This from Uncle Bryce. “We’re trying to figure out how Brittany Sheraton is involved in what’s going on right now.”
“Brittany Sheraton? Doc’s daughter? I thought you said Doc—”
“He is. He’s involved,” Dad says, “but his daughter… Jeff hacked into her medical files—”
“Jonah Steel!”
“Melanie, please spare me the ethics discussion. I know it’s not right. But Brock and I found out a lot of things about Brittany Sheraton while we were in Wyoming, and we had no choice.”
Mom shakes her head. “It’s so easy to say you have no choice.”
“Mom,” I say. “Please, trust me. I’m your son. This is important.”
She softens a bit then. Her children are her Achilles’ heels. “So you think Brittany has antisocial personality disorder?”
“We don’t think,” Dad says. “We know. Jeff, tell my wife what the records say.”
What little color was left in Mom’s pretty face drains as Jeff repeats what he already told us.
“So you see why we need your help,” Dad says.
“I specialize in childhood trauma.” Mom sighs. “How did I never see this in Brittany?”
“You never had any dealings with Brittany, Mom. She’s older than Brad and I are. There was no way you even knew her.”
“You’re right, I suppose. Still, any psychiatrist, especially one who specializes in childhood trauma…”
“We didn’t bring you in here to make you feel bad about yourself, baby,” Dad says. “We brought you in here for your expertise. We need to know about this disorder.”
“Personality disorders are very hard to treat,” Mom says. “There are no medications—not for the disorder specifically. Medications can treat some of the symptoms associated with the disorders, like depression, anxiety, aggression—”
“Aggression?” Dad asks.
“Yeah. Some antipsychotics can be helpful with chronic aggression. Clozapine and risperidone are a couple.”
“Is she on either of those, Jeff?” Dad asks.
“Nope,” Jeff says. “Her records are only showing Zoloft.”
“That’s an antidepressant,” Mom says, “but it’s prescribed more for anxiety than depression.”
“So nothing is treating her aggression.” Dad rubs his jaw.
“She may not have any aggression,” Mom says. “Aggression doesn’t have to be part of antisocial personality disorder.”
“I’m pretty sure she has aggression,” I say. “After what she did to Rory and Callie.”
Again, Mom does not look surprised. Dad has no doubt filled her in.
“Then again,” I continue, “that could’ve been Pat’s idea all along. But something tells me…”
“I’m with you, son. Pat Lamone is obviously a bad guy, but as far as we know, he doesn’t have any mental disorders.”
“As far as we know,” I repeat.
Mom sighs. “Give me the records. I don’t like it, but if you want my professional opinion, I need to see all the records.”
“I’ve already sent them over to Joe,” Jeff says.
“Fine. He can forward them to me.”
“They’re encrypted,” Jeff says. “I’ll send you the encryption software in a separate file.”
Mom nods. “Sounds good.”
“I’m sorry we had to drag you into this, baby,” Dad says.
“Don’t be. For better or worse, right?”
“That’s why I love you.” Dad smiles.
“We’ve had some worse, but we’ve had a lot of better too, Jonah. I’ll help you figure this out.”
“Thank you, my love.”
“If you don’t need me for anything else,” Mom says. “I’ll pull up these files on my own computer and figure it out from there.”
“Thanks, babe.”
Mom leaves the room.
“Anything else, Jeff?” Dad asks.
“Only one thing. But it’s a doozy.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
RORY
My phone dings.
A text.
From Brock.
Sorry I haven’t been in communication all day. Dealing with… Well, you know. I hope the show went great. I love you.