Look Behind You (Kendra Michaels #5)
Iris Johansen & Roy Johansen
PROLOGUE
“ANOTHER SODA AND LIME. Easy on the lime this time.”
The bartender pursed her lips and gave him a pitying look. She obviously thought he was a recovering alcoholic, desperately clinging to sobriety by his fingernails.
He was nothing of the sort. He just needed to keep his wits about him.
Zachary looked up at the bar’s mirrored backdrop where he could see dozens of people shoehorned into this popular downtown watering hole. There was only one who interested him, though.
Pretty, strawberry-blond Amanda Robinson sat in a corner booth. Late twenties, medium height, and a smile that lit up the room. She was surrounded by friends, three women and two men, who obviously adored her. They were finishing their third round of drinks. As always, Amanda had an apple martini and gave her dark-haired friend the toothpick-impaled cherries.
Zachary checked the time; 9:45 P.M. The group, many of whom worked at the same insurance company as Amanda, started making noises about it being a “school night.” Pretty Amanda picked up her phone and opened an app that bathed her face in a soft blue glow.
That was his cue. Zachary threw a twenty onto the bar and walked outside. The sidewalks on University Avenue were much less crowded than they’d been a couple of hours before. He rounded the corner and found his car on the lonely side street. He unlocked the trunk, pulled out a large magnetic Vroom ride-share sign, and slapped it onto the passenger-side door. He climbed inside, started the car, and circled around the block.
He smiled as he saw Pretty Amanda outside the bar. She and her friends were now talking on the sidewalk. He powered down the passenger-side window as he rolled up to the group.
“Amanda Robinson?” he shouted to the group.
“That’s me!” she shouted.
After a few good-byes and quick hugs, Pretty Amanda hopped into the back seat. She pulled the door closed behind her.
“So…” he said, pretending to study his phone. “We’re going to Rillington Drive?”
“Yes,” she said absently. She was already engrossed in her own phone, scrolling through emails.
Perfect.
“This won’t take long.” Zachary power-locked the car doors as a shiver of excitement tore through him. “I promise, Amanda. This won’t take long at all.”
CHAPTER
1
KENDRA MICHAELS STUDIED THE nine-year-old boy in the wheelchair.
Just as his file had stated, Ryan Walker was unresponsive. Disengaged, borderline catatonic. He’d been that way since suffering head and spine injuries in the same boating accident that had killed his father.
It had been nine months, and although there was some hope that he might one day walk again, doctors were less sure about his cognitive ability. He hadn’t spoken since the accident, and doctors disagreed whether the principal cause was psychological or physiological.
Kendra knew she was a port of last resort for Ryan’s harried mother, Janice. The poor woman had been trying to find answers for her son at the same time she was grieving for her husband. She’d been advised to consult a music therapist after Ryan had supposedly shown a slight response to a few television commercial jingles. It was a phenomenon Kendra had so far been unable to reproduce in her studio.
Janice Walker was watching from behind a one-way glass on the studio’s far side, and Kendra could almost feel her despair.
Kendra studied the boy’s unresponsive eyes. Let me in, Ryan. You’ll be safe here.
She walked across the room to the keyboard. Her studio was a large carpeted room twenty-five by fifteen feet, filled with an assortment of musical instruments: a keyboard, a drum set, and an array of woodwinds. She’d played some recordings and live guitar pieces for Ryan, but those elicited no response.
Maybe the keyboard would work better.
She sat down and turned on the console. “Okay, Ryan. Here’s something I think you’ll like. Your mom tells me you like Kiss. You’re a Paul Stanley fan, right?”
No response.
Kendra started playing “I Love It Loud” using her keyboard to emulate the band’s hard-driving sound.
Still nothing.
But then, there was … something.
A slight furrowing of the brow.
A pull on the right corner of his mouth.
But that was all.
Kendra finished the song without any further response from Ryan. “Did you like that one?”
No reaction.
She stood. “Well, that’s enough for today. We’ll listen to more music the next time you’re here, okay?”
The door to the observation room opened, and Janice Walker stood smiling with excitement in the doorway. “Did you see that?”
Kendra glanced down at Ryan. “Let’s talk in there.”
Kendra ushered Janice back into the observation room and closed the door behind them.
“That was progress, right?” Janice asked.
“Maybe. I’ve had clients make facial expressions like that when they pass gas. Or when they’re hungry. Or for a dozen other reasons.”
“I know my son. He was reacting to the music.”
Kendra thought so too, but it was always better to keep parents’ expectations in check. “I hope you’re right.”
“I am right. Where do we go from here?”
“We keep working at it. In some people, music is the crowbar that opens the outside world to them. It helps them make connections that no other kind of communication can. Those small connections can lead to bigger connections. That’s the goal anyway.”
“Can we come back tomorrow?”
Janice was anxious, like a starving person who had been tossed a bread crumb. Not that Kendra could blame her. Her response would have been the same if Ryan had been her son.
“We should wait a couple days. It helps to give the brain time to process between sessions.”
Janice nodded, but she couldn’t hide her disappointment. “I know. It’s just … This is the first time I’ve seen him respond to anything since…” Her voice trailed off. “I want it so much.”
Kendra reached out and squeezed Janice’s arm. “I know. If this is the crowbar that will work for Ryan, I promise I’ll find the right way to use it. I’ll call you every day, and we’ll talk and search for that way. We just need to be patient. Okay?”
She nodded, still staring at her son on the other side of the one-way glass. “It’s hard to be patient.” She tried to smile. “But I believe you’re doing everything you can for him. And I know you have other clients. A couple of them came in here while you were working with Ryan.”
Kendra wrinkled her brow. “Really?”
“Yes. They came in through the other door, the one that leads out to the hallway.”
“Ryan’s my last appointment of the day. Are you sure…?”
“Well, they said they were here to see you. I just assumed … It was a man and a woman, both well-dressed. They said they’d come back later.”
Kendra wasn’t sure she liked this. She had an idea who it might be, but she hoped she was wrong.
“Is everything all right?” Janice asked.
“Yes. Fine. Nothing to worry about. I’m sure they’ll be back soon.”