“My apologies, let me start over. My name is Andrew Marshall. I’m the therapist over this support group.” He waved a hand around the room. When I gave him a critical look, he chuckled. “I swear I’m a better therapist than a comedian.”
For these people’s sake, I hope so.
“Anyway,” Mandy, ever the professional, tried to steer the conversation back on point, “Jane is a consultant we brought on to help find Clarissa.”
“A consultant?” Andrew really looked me over as if he could discover all my secrets from my clothing choice. Sorry, buddy, no secret to the universe in these pants.
“Yes, I’m a psychic.” I forced myself not to smile. No one takes you seriously if you smile when you tell them something absurd.
Andrew smiled, like a ‘megawatt my panties would be on fire’ smile, or it would be if I weren’t already surrounded by hunky man meat. Wow. No wonder so many women came to his group. The curve of his lips would make even the strongest of women pull down their pants and beg for a physical. Okay, he wasn’t that kind of doctor, but you get the picture.
“To be honest,” - Andrew lowered his voice and leaned forward - “I’ve always wanted to meet a psychic.” He held his hands up in defense and popped that grin of his again. “I know, I know. People in my line of work shouldn’t believe in such things but think of how much easier it would be to help people if I could read their minds.”
Laughing nervously, I rubbed the back of my neck. “It doesn’t really work that way. I can’t read your mind any more than I can see through your clothes.”
“Can you?” Andrew asked, a cocky smirk on his face.
“Can I what?” I countered.
“See through my clothes?”
Wowzah. This guy. Really. He didn’t hold back on the flirting, that was for sure.
I shifted in place, acutely aware of the angels next to me. Lucifer had his hands in his pockets, a smug look on his face as he thoroughly enjoyed my discomfort. Gabriel, on the other hand, frowned, the skin of his forehead bunching up between his eyebrows. Michael, well, who the hell knew what Michael was thinking half the time? Someone would mistake him for a marble statue with how little he expressed himself.
“No, she can’t,” Mandy answered for me. Go, Mandy!
“Yeah, she’s right,” I quickly added. “I can’t see in your mind or your clothes, but what I can do is find Clarissa. So, why don’t we get back to that?”
Frowning, probably a bit disappointed, Andrew nodded. “Of course. I understand. It’s horrible that one of my patients is missing like this. I feel so terrible about it.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Lucifer said by my side. I’d had enough practice from the bar to not need to look at him in response, I simply nodded.
I didn’t think much of Lucifer’s comment. Most people would say they felt bad even if they hated the person. It was expected. If Andrew hadn’t said something along those lines, then I’d be worried.
Opening my mouth to ask a question, Michael jumped in. “He’s nervous about something. He keeps fiddling with his watch.”
My left eye twitched as I restrained myself from snapping at the angel. Really, who was running this show?
“I talked to Clarissa’s parents,” I explained, hoping to get something from him about what I’d already guessed.
Andrew shook his head, pure anguish in his eyes. “Those poor people. I feel for their loss. I can’t imagine how they are feeling right now, not knowing where their daughter is.”
“Lie,” Lucifer clipped. I held a hand up to stop him and then passed it off as scratching my head.
“So, you didn’t know her parents were keeping her hostage.” I cocked my head to the side. Did Clarissa open up to her therapist? I know I never did, well, not the way they wanted me to in any case.
Andrew didn’t act surprised. In fact, he seemed ashamed. “Yes, I knew about it. Or at least suspected it.”
“Dr. Marshall,” Mandy stepped in, her brows furrowed. “You never said anything about this the first time we interviewed you.” I could hear the accusation in her voice, and I wanted to know too. Why hold it back?
Andrew sighed and glanced down at the ground. “Doctor-patient privilege. Clarissa doesn’t like people to know that her life isn’t anything less than perfect.”
I snorted. “With parents like hers, I can imagine why.”
Mandy shot me a look. Ignoring her, I started to ask my next question, but Lucifer pipped up again. “Ask him where she is.”
Since it was a good question, I did as he asked. “Do you know where Clarissa is? Or where she might have gone?”
“One question at a time,” Lucifer hissed.
Crap. I forgot. You’d think I’d be a pro at this faking it by now, but I still get caught up on the rules. If I asked more than one question, I made it harder for Lucifer to pinpoint where they were lying.
“No, I have no idea where she is.” Andrew kept his hands in his pockets. His face had so much emotion in it I couldn’t tell if he was telling the truth or not.
I angled my head to the side, toward Lucifer. It was our signal for him to check. Lucifer stepped toward him so that he was in between our little threesome, his brow furrowed as he studied the man. After a moment, he shook his head.
“He’s not telling the truth, but he’s not lying.” Lucifer turned back to me, frustration on his face. It was almost cute how his inability to figure it out got to him.
Putting my hand to the side of my forehead, I closed my eyes briefly. Making a humming sound in the back of my throat, I waved my other hand in front of Andrew. “I’m sensing you aren’t telling us everything, Andrew. You don’t know where Clarissa is, but you have an idea.”
Opening my eyes, I saw Andrew’s brow rise. Shuffling in place, his mouth dropped open. “That’s remarkable. How did you know that?”
“So, it’s true?” O’Connor asked. I spun around and found the irritating detective behind me, a frown on his face. Man, did this guy ever smile?
“Yes,” Andrew quickly answered. “It’s true, I don’t know where she is, but if she did indeed run away and has not been kidnapped,” - he paused as if the thought itself caused him pain - “then there is only one person who might be housing her.”
Detective O’Connor stepped into our little circle, his jaw tightened and his gaze intense. How he hadn’t been able to crack this guy before baffled me. “Who?”
That one word made Andrew swallow visibly, and he stumbled over his words, “Jack ... Jack Adams. He’s a member of our group, or at least was until about two weeks ago.”
“Jack Adams?” Mandy scribbled on a little notepad. “Do you have contact information for him?”
Andrew shook his head. “Not on me, but I can send it to you when I get back to my office.” He quieted for a moment and then seemed to think of something. His gaze didn’t go to the detectives but to me. “He’s not a stable guy. If Clarissa is with him, she could be in real trouble.”
“Why do you say that?” Mandy asked, her paper poised and ready to take notes. My little honor student. She’d always been the studious type. Never missed a class and her notes were so detailed they were color coded.
Color coded. I know! How did someone so nerdy end up with an awesome, amazing person like me?
“Jack tends to get obsessive. Dangerously so.” Andrew ran a hand over his face and let out a bitter laugh. “Clarissa had always been on his radar, even if he wasn’t on hers. But Clarissa seemed to really enjoy having an admirer from afar. Even joked about how it was always good to have a backup. A sure thing, she called it.”
“Thank you, Dr. Marshall.” Mandy reached out and touched his arm, sympathy in her voice. Andrew smiled weakly at her, placing his hand on top of hers.
O’Connor, on the other hand, didn’t seem to feel much of anything for the concerned doctor. Hands on his hips, O’Connor grunted. “Yeah, thanks. You’ve been a real help.”
Liar. Liar. Pants on fire.
As we left the civic center, Gabriel caught up to me. He bumped his hand against mine, his way of holding my hand. My heart pitter-pattered as I stared up into his opulent eyes. Get a grip, Jane!
“That guy isn’t going to be of help,” Gabriel randomly said.