Dr. Cates stood and paced around my small session area. “I don’t understand it. If she was in love and upset that her love might be unrequited, why wouldn’t she discuss that with you?”
Because I was the one she was in love with. But I couldn’t say that. I hadn’t yet dealt with the fallout from Gina’s feelings myself.
“Who wouldn’t have wanted Gina? She was brilliant and beautiful.”
“And she was also very troubled, obviously,” I said.
Dr. Cates’s face twisted into…not rage, exactly, but not anything good. Clearly those words had not been the right ones.
“How did you not see this? What kind of a therapist are you?”
How did you not see that her uncle—your brother-in-law—was abusing your daughter all those years? I desperately wanted to say the words, but that would only make things worse. I stood. “Dr. Cates, I think it would be best if you left now.”
“No. You tell me.” He inched toward me.
Chills ran up my neck.
“How could you not have seen this happening? How could you not know she was in love?”
My blood ran cold. He was between me and the door. Randi was gone. It was after five o’clock, so unless a security guard was walking down the hallway, no one would hear me if I screamed.
I didn’t think Dr. Cates would actually hurt me, but I knew enough to see that he wasn’t completely in his right mind.
I gritted my teeth. “Dr. Cates, I will tell you one more time. You need to leave. Now.”
He took one more step toward me. “Not until I get some answers.”
“I don’t have any answers.”
“If you don’t have them, who does? You’re the only one. You’ve got to have answers. Where’s your goddamned file?”
My file was locked up, thank God. After the other day when the letter from Gina had slipped out, I realized how stupid I had been leaving it on my desk. How was I supposed to move on if that file stared at me from my desk like a vulture? It was safely locked in my file cabinet at home with my other files of patients who were no longer active.
I wasn’t an attorney, but I knew better than to give my files to this man anyway. After Gina died, I had spoken with an attorney and with another therapist who was a respected colleague, both of whom went through my files. They both concluded that I had not committed any malpractice and that there had been no reason to believe Gina Cates was suicidal.
Of course, I hadn’t told them about the letter.
That letter was between Gina and me.
And damn it, I was taking it to the grave.
Chapter Nineteen
Jonah
I tried to read Tom Simpson’s eyes. They were blue, and looking into them felt oddly like looking at my best friend. Bryce did resemble his father, and so did Henry. My nerves raced and I felt uneasy, seeing the resemblance. His mother, Evelyn, was mostly gray now, but she’d had light-brown hair when we were kids. But Tom was blond like Bryce and his son, even though he was silvery white now. He sat, typing something into his computer.
“Damn,” he said.
“What?”
“Just a typo.” He held up his right hand. “This damned bandage.” He had a Band-Aid on the tip of his right index finger.
“You okay?”
He nodded. “Just a paper cut. I get them a lot. So much paperwork for this tiny city.”
My nerves were on edge, but damn it, I was ready to discover some answers. I opened with, “I’m really glad Henry is okay.” I wasn’t lying, but I also hadn’t been able to think of anything else.
“He’s a great kid, isn’t he?”
I took another sip of coffee. “He sure is. Bryce seems crazy about him.”
“Oh, yeah, he’s a great father. I was always surprised that he didn’t marry sooner. Speaking of that, it’s nice to see that one of you boys will be settling down. I assume Talon and Jade are serious?”
“As serious as Talon has ever been.”
“What about you and Ryan? You’re not getting any younger, you know.”
I certainly wasn’t here to talk about my brothers and me settling down. I needed to get back to Larry. But then something occurred to me. Henry had that little birthmark on his arm, and it was clearly visible as he was lying in his crib wearing just a onesie and a diaper.
“I noticed that Henry has a birthmark.”
“Yes, he does.”
I cleared my throat. “Bryce said he might have gotten it from you.”
“I’m not sure why he said that.”
“Oh? You mean you don’t have any birthmarks?”
“No, that’s not what I meant. I do have one, but it looks totally different from Henry’s.”
“Maybe he did get it from you, then, because Bryce said neither he nor Henry’s mother have one.”
“I suppose that’s possible. But Evelyn has one too. Cutest little thing right on the cheek of her ass.”
I squirmed uncomfortably. I really didn’t want to talk about anything a sixty-five-year-old woman had on her ass. I couldn’t force him to remove his shirt and show me the inside of his right arm. Time to ditch the birthmark investigation.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you, Tom,” I said.
He raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”