“Don’t you think I’ve wondered the same thing myself?”
“Come on, Kate. Whatever you think you’re doing, it’s dangerous. Not only does it freak me out that this guy is pulling you into his orbit, but you’ve been hallucinating again.”
She felt a sudden disconnect, as if a plug had been pulled. “That’s because of the migraines. We talked about this…”
“Kate, just send those files back. End it.”
She closed her eyes. “I’m exhausted. Can we talk in the morning?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” She hung up.
48
THE UPSTAIRS BEDROOM CONTAINED a lot of books. Kate changed the sheets on the bed and perused the oak bookshelves. There were biographies of FBI agents and serial killers, textbooks on forensic psychiatry and criminalistics, maps and travel guides to New Hampshire, and plenty of true-crime nonfiction. It also looked as if Palmer had collected all the published works of William Stigler, PhD. There were dozens of scientific journals with his name highlighted in the contents, research papers with titles such as “The Impact of Family Dysfunction on Adult Psychopathology.”
Kate took a few of the journals back to bed with her, and as she was settling in, she noticed a stack of books on Palmer’s bedside table. She picked up an old hardback with Dr. Holley’s name on the cover, entitled Grandiose Times at Godwin Valley: A Psychiatrist’s Life in an Asylum. The chapters were named Patient A, Patient B, Patient C, and so on. “Patient J” was highlighted in yellow, and the corresponding page was folded down in the corner. Kate propped the book in her lap and started to read.
Patient J had grown up in a sleepy New Hampshire town, where she was raised by a distant mother and a fawning father who’d molested her at an early age. This caused “J” to become a sexually dysfunctional adult who slept with dozens of men, before finally settling down and marrying a stable breadwinner in good standing within the community. However, one year after the wedding, she cheated on her husband. There were many infidelities after that, and the marriage began to fall apart.
Patient J came to the asylum showing symptoms of a psychotic depression. During her analysis with Dr. Holley, they were able to get to the root of her trauma (an abusive father) and expose her habit of treating every man she met as a potential father-substitute. The author went on to discuss various aspects of her treatment, including medication and drug interactions, as well as talk therapy, which gradually assisted her return to a more rational state of mind.
“As we delved deeper into her background and it was revealed how her father’s abuse had shaped her life, Patient J trusted me enough to confide that one of her children was the product of an affair. I recognized immediately that her guilt over this sad reality had triggered her psychosis. Worse, her husband had no idea the child wasn’t his. Patient J’s infidelity and its consequences had a profound effect on her psyche, and we spent our time at the asylum trying to repair the damage. Her choice was simple: either confess her secret to her husband, or learn to live with it. She decided, for the child’s sake, to keep it hidden.”
Kate’s heart began to thunder in her chest as years of confusion fell away. Savannah didn’t look like anybody on Bram’s side of the family. The Wolfes were tall, pale-skinned, dark-haired, and blue-or brown-eyed, whereas Savannah was a tiny thing with golden hair, mermaid-green eyes, freckles, and a widow’s peak, which contributed to her mischievous appearance.
Kate herself mostly took after their mother’s side of the family, but she’d also inherited some of Bram’s physical attributes: his left-handedness; the ability to curl her tongue; a crooked pinkie finger; his straight nose. Savannah didn’t have any of these traits. Of the two of them, Savannah was the genetic anomaly.
Another thing. When Bram took the girls to visit Julia’s grave, they always brought a trashbag to clear away old bouquets of roses from the headstone. Who had left them there? Their presence was never explained.
Kate recalled how beautiful Julia was. Men would stare at her everywhere she went—the grocery store, the gas station, strolling along Main Street. Her mother not only welcomed the attention, she craved it. She would often stop to flirt with complete strangers, which embarrassed Kate. And her parents used to throw parties when she was very young, full of drunken adults dancing to The Bangles and U2, until Bram grew tired of Julia’s flirtatious behavior and put an end to them.
From the second she met Maddie Ward, Kate had been struck by the resemblance to her sister. Had Julia slept with Henry Blackwood? Was it possible? What did it mean?
If Henry Blackwood was Savannah’s father, did Bram know about it? Or had Julia managed to keep it hidden from him? Did William Stigler know? Was he jealous? Had he killed Kate’s mother in a fit of jealousy and rage? And then, six years later, buried Savannah alive in Blackwood’s backyard as vicious payback? Could anyone be so depraved? Was Professor William Stigler capable of such madness?
49
THE PALEST LIGHT. DAWN. Dripping icicles. Kate woke up in a strange room and almost panicked before realizing where she was. It was 6 AM. She put the journals and Holley’s book away, took a shower, got dressed, and went downstairs, where she made a pot of coffee and waited for Palmer to arrive.
Brilliant sunshine was pouring into the kitchen through the old-fashioned windows. It was going to be a beautiful day. Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock at the door.
Palmer’s hair was peppered with silver and his eyes were bloodshot. There were deep worry lines on his face she hadn’t noticed before. “Morning,” he said with a smile. “How’d you sleep?”
“Like the dead.”
“You ready?”
She picked up her bag and handed him the cabin keys.
As they drove to Kirkland Road, Kate confessed, “I think I’m seeing things.”
Palmer cocked his head. “Would you like to talk about it?”
“I watched my mother go crazy. One day, I came home from school, and she was hacking away at our hedges with a band saw.” She shrugged. “You grow up believing that this person you love will always be there for you. But then one day, she looks at you with cold eyes, and you realize she’s a complete stranger. And you may never get her back.”
“I’m sorry you had to deal with that,” Palmer said.
“Sometimes it feels like I’m going crazy.” Kate pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’ve been seeing my dead sister lately. I know it’s just a symptom of my migraines—they cause visual hallucinations sometimes, when combined with stress. But that’s how I got lost yesterday. I was chasing a ghost through the woods.”
“You’ve been seeing your sister?”
Kate nodded. “James blames you.”
Palmer frowned. “Why?”
“He saw the files you sent me. He thinks it’s unhealthy. He told me to let the police handle it.” She sighed heavily. “But don’t worry. He doesn’t know about Stigler.”
“Thanks for keeping it confidential. I appreciate that.”
She gave Palmer a plaintive look. “But I need to see this through. Or I’ll always be afraid.”
“What are you afraid of?” he asked.
“That I killed my sister by leaving her alone in that cabin.” Tears sprang to her eyes. She nodded slowly. “Everybody tells me it wasn’t my fault. They’ve been saying it for years. But it’s a lie. Because it was my fault. I took her there. I should’ve paid more attention. I should’ve never left her alone.”
“Do you think she would blame you?”
Kate blinked. “Savannah?”
“Do you think she would want you to live in fear forever?”
“No. She never blamed anyone for anything.”
“But deep down, you don’t believe that yet. And until you can square it with yourself, you’ll always have this fear.”
“So you’re saying I should put the blame where it belongs.”