Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
I sigh. “I hope she gets help.”
Detective Green sips his tea, watching me over the brim. He’s observant, not unlike a psychiatrist, who often learns more from actions than words.
“What about Gabriel?” I ask.
“We’ve interrogated Mr. Wright three times about his role in things. His story checks out. He was never the one following you. It was always Rebecca.” Detective Green catches my eye. “Though he seems to think you were following him, too. He said you crashed into each other in an alley at one point months back, when he was leaving his storage unit.”
I’ve never told Detective Green how things started, but the truth needs to be set free. So I nod. “I was following him for a while. It started by accident. I never set out to do it, I swear. One day, I was sitting in a coffee shop, looking outside, and there he was. The man I’d watched crumple in the emergency room on the worst night of my life. It seemed like the worst night of his, too. Only now he looked happy and I… I followed him. I didn’t mean for it to become a thing, but somehow it did.” I inhale and blow out a wobbly breath. “Am I in trouble for that?”
He shakes his head. “No. Gabriel Wright has no interest in pressing charges. He feels bad about things that transpired between the two of you. He said you were… more than his doctor. Is that right?”
I look down, ashamed of my actions, and nod. “We were intimate, yes.”
Detective Green shakes his head. “You two have some interesting ways of grieving. But regardless, I don’t think you’re at risk anymore. Rebecca is off the streets, and with your testimony, she won’t be back out for decades, if at all. That is, if you’re still willing to testify. It should be an open-and-shut case with her confession, but it never is once these dirtbag defense attorneys get involved. Last night she was taking responsibility on camera, and by this morning at arraignment, her lawyer was singing a new tune.”
“What do you mean?”
“Her attorney asked for a competency examination. Sounds like he’s going to put up an insanity defense. Even had his client rocking back and forth in the courtroom, mumbling about Thailand.”
“Thailand?”
Detective Green shrugs. “She just kept rocking back and forth and mumbling, ‘Thailand, Thailand, Thailand.’ When the judge took the bench, he threatened to have her removed if she didn’t quiet down. Her lawyer apologized and said his client believed she should be in Thailand, not prison.”
“What does Thailand have to do with anything?”
“It doesn’t. That’s the point. Incoherent babbling is a ploy for her defense. Vincent Gigante, one of the most notorious crime bosses, walked around the city wearing a bathrobe, mumbling nonsense to no one in particular, for years. It’s what these defense attorneys do. They put on a show. So it will be helpful if you testify. The DA said it will probably cost you your license, once the medical board gets wind that you broke doctor-patient confidentiality, since she never threatened you with any harm.”
I nod. “I will. I’ll testify. The last few years have been nothing but secrets and lies. The truth has to come out. Gabriel’s wife and daughter deserve justice. And I need to give it to them. That’s the only way this can end for all of us.”
“What will you do if you can’t be a psychiatrist anymore?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. But maybe a fresh start is just what I need.”
Detective Green finishes his tea and slaps his hands on his knees. “Well, I should get going. The DA will take things from here and be in touch. I’ve given him your number.”
I walk the detective to the door. He stops and looks at the hockey stick. “He was one hell of a player.”
I smile sadly. “He was.”
“I hope it brings you some peace to know the Wright family’s deaths were not his fault. He shouldn’t have been on the road in his condition, but Rebecca Jordan committed murder.”
“I think it will take some time to absorb, but I’m grateful you got to the bottom of things. Thank you for all you’ve done.”
Detective Green nods. “Take care, Dr. McCall.”
I lock the door behind him—one lock, not all three this time—and lean against it, looking over at Connor’s stick. Tears stream down my cheeks.
“It’s over,” I whisper. “You can be free now, too.”
CHAPTER 43 Now
Life almost feels normal lately.
Well, a new normal. I’ll never work as a psychiatrist again. Never go into my office and thank Sarah for grabbing me a coffee, then retreat to my desk to prepare for the day. A part of me misses it. But another part of me is glad to be done with having my life revolve around other people’s problems. My own are enough to carry. It’s still a struggle every day, but I keep putting one foot in front of the other and pushing forward.