CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

Jake slowly ran her fingers through Cheyenne's fur as she listened to Captain Zeller on the phone. The night air was cold, and she watched Steven's breath frost around him as he waited.

" Yes, sir. I understand. First thing in the morning, yes sir."

As she disconnected the call, she just barely resisted the urge to hurl the phone across the parking lot.

" The son-of-a-bitch wants to wait until goddamn morning to meet on this. Wants to give Lieutenant Gregory time to surface, " she said. She paced next to her vehicle, between Steven, who had moved farther away from her, and Cheyenne, who was still hanging her head out the window. " Well... fuck that, " she said. " Stevie, I need you now, " she said seriously. " We've got to dig and dig fast."

" I can dig."

" Your office? My house? Where? "

" My computer in my office is top-notch. Let's go there."

" What about covering your tracks? "

" Not a problem, " he said as he slammed the door. " But what are we digging for? "

" Matthew Gregory has to be somewhere. We've got to find him."

" I've already checked bank records, credit cards, " Steven said. He quickly locked his seatbelt as Jake darted into traffic. " He had none. If he's at a motel, he's paid cash and used a fake name."

" Not a motel. Not for what he does. He has to have someplace private."

" The only property that came back to your lieutenant was his house."

" Then we'll have to dig deeper, won't we? "

Steven nodded. " I can dig."

Nicole watched as the flames grew, shooting up the chimney and emitting a tiny bit of warmth into the cabin. She still could not prevent herself from wrapping her arms around herself from the cold. Matthew was still feeding the fire, piling on another log, and Nicole wondered how much time she had left. Was Jake looking for her? Of course. But Jake would need time, and Nicole needed to give her time.

" It's already warmer in here, " she said quietly. " Thank you."

" You don't have to thank me, " he said.

He rubbed his hands together, then took off his jacket and tossed it on a chair, leaving him in his starched white shirt and dress pants. He was a handsome young man, Nicole noted. It had probably been easy for him to gain the trust of her former patients as he seduced them... and then killed them.

" I was wondering, maybe we could read your mother's file now, " she said. " I'm sorry, but nine years ago, I don't remember it."

He nodded. " No, I'm sure you don't remember her. I've been through your records, remember? You've been very busy, Dr. Westbrook. Not only do you take hopeless cases from the crisis center, you also have been taking Dr. Peterson's rejects all these years."

Nicole frowned. " What do you mean? "

" Come on, haven't you noticed? Your friend Dorothy only refers patients to you who are about to bolt or who need hospitalization. Those patients that she can milk for years and years, she keeps for herself."

" So you've been checking her files as well? "

He smiled and nodded. " She's been using you, Dr. Westbrook. Dumping all her garbage on you while she keeps the fat accounts."

" That would be unethical, and Dorothy Peterson is anything but unethical."

" Why do you think she referred Lori Simmons to you? She'd had a couple of years with her, yet was still getting nowhere. When she realized that Lori was about to quit or do herself in, she shoved her off on you. And then what? Two or three sessions with you and then gone."

Nicole cleared her throat. " She was... murdered."

Again the smile. " Murdered or not, she wasn't going to show up at your door again."

Nicole motioned to the file that Matthew had tossed on the table. " Are you ready to read it? "

He looked at it, then slid his eyes back to Nicole. " You're a little anxious about what it contains, aren't you? " He shrugged. " I can't blame you. You feel responsible." He met her eyes. " But you shouldn't."

" But I should, " she countered.

He raised his hands. " You can't possibly control other people's actions, Dr. Westbrook. Surely, in your line of work, you've uttered those very words, " he said.

She nodded. " Of course."

With that, he pointed to the file. " Feel free. See if it... enlightens you."

Nicole stood, casually walking to the table to get the file. Yes, she was eager to read it, to see if it shed any light on this young man who held her captive.

" There's really nothing here to offer you to drink, " Matthew said. He opened up a couple of cabinets and Nicole watched a frown form on his handsome face. " Although, apparently, someone's left us some scotch." He held the bottle up. " Would you like a drink? "

Nicole was about to decline, then reconsidered. If he drank with her, perhaps it would loosen him up, perhaps he would con-fide in her. She nodded. " I'll join you for a drink."

He met her eyes and smiled, as if reading her thoughts. " Straight up? "

She cocked her head. " Do you mind adding a splash of water to mine? "

He laughed. " A lesbian, but still a lady."

Her eyes widened in shock. He knew? Of course he knew. He'd been watching her.

" The closet, it's a lonely place, isn't it? "

" I doubt I'd have a practice if I was out, " she said.

" You've listened to the old lady for too long, Dr. Westbrook. She's living in another era."

" Dr. Peterson? "

" Yes. That's quite a group of powerful women she's amassed, isn't it? One even hoping to be mayor? Doctors and lawyers, all tucked safely in the closet." He handed Nicole her drink and sat at the opposite end of the sofa, giving her space.

" You... know an awful lot, " she said.

" Yes, I do. I also know you're bucking their little system by hanging out with your cop friend."

Nicole visibly swallowed. Of course he would know about Jake.

" She's cute. I like her for you. A lot better than that surgeon you went out with the other week. She has no... convictions. No scruples. You, Dr. Westbrook, are honorable. You need someone the same."

She cleared her throat. " You... listen in on conversations? "

" No. I've not broken that privacy." He motioned to the file. " Read. I'm afraid time is not exactly on our side, Dr. Westbrook."

She didn't need to ask what he meant by that. She dutifully opened the file, scanning Dorothy's handwritten notes that she'd jotted down upon referral. There was no mention of sexual abuse. She only hinted that perhaps Rebecca Gregory was in a verbally abusive relationship. Nothing about a son.

" You're frowning, " he said. " What? "

" Nothing. I was reading Dr. Peterson's notes." She watched as he impatiently tapped his fingers on his leg. She wondered what he hoped to find in the file.

" I only met you one time, you know. It was the second to last appointment she had with you. I was fourteen, almost fifteen, I think. She had picked me up earlier from school. I was being punished and wasn't allowed alone, " he said vaguely. " I remember sitting in your office, waiting. You walked out with my mother and when you looked at me, I could see in your eyes that something clicked."

" What do you mean? "

He shook his head. " Nothing. Read the file. Then you tell me."

She studied him for a second. He wanted her to read the file, he wanted her to bring up the sexual abuse. He wanted to talk about it. He spent six years at Trinity Clinic. They knew of the abuse. Had he not ever talked about it? All these years, keeping it inside, until he snapped, snapped so completely that he went on a murder spree.

So, she read, reacquainting herself with Rebecca Gregory. As she read the notes she made after each session, she realized how much she'd grown over the years. Some of her comments were so elementary, right out of the books she'd studied. There was little insight on her behalf, just clinical answers to the responses Rebecca had given her. And at first, she, too, suspected the woman was abused. Not physically, no. There was no evidence of that. She sipped her drink occasionally, aware of the silent man beside her.

Her breath caught as she read the entry she'd made on... yes, the second to last visit. The first truly insightful observation on her part.

Met her son today. The haunted, defeated look in his eyes spoke volumes. Rebecca is not the victim here. Something she said last week comes to mind. She mentioned how she and her husband were so far away from each other but that she and her son were very close. The boy that I met today did not mirror those feelings. There was no love or admiration in his eyes for Rebecca. There was simply a wariness. I fear he is the victim. Next session, let's talk about the son. Perhaps she would not be opposed to have him sit in with us. Check with Dorothy and get her feelings on this.

Her hand trembled as she turned the page. Bits and pieces came back to her. She remembered now that she'd confronted Rebecca. And Rebecca had run.

Rebecca did not wish to discuss her son. We got nowhere. Frustrated. I finally asked her point blank. Was she having a sexual relationship with her son? The answer was in her eyes, but she denied it. She cut our session short. I fear I won't see her again. The human side of me says to call Child Protective Services. The ethical side of course won. Rebecca is my patient, not the son.

There was only one more entry, dated the next week. No show.

And Rebecca and her son had faded from her mind as others came through her door to take their place, their problems and troubles pushing Rebecca Gregory's away.

She cleared her throat. " Was it true? " When she met his eyes, it was the same haunted look that she now remembered.

" Yes, it was true, " he murmured.

She took a deep breath, knowing instinctively that he wanted to talk. " When did it begin, Matthew? "

" Seems like it was always that way, " he said, his eyes still far away. He finally blinked and shifted on the couch. " When I was a little boy, I remember her touching me and stuff. Touching me... there." He shrugged. " I was a kid, but I knew it wasn't right. But she was my mother."

" Was it occasionally? Or all the time? "

" All the time."

" You never thought to tell your father? "

" No. I knew he would beat her. He used to beat her. I remember the horrible fights. Something happened, because he stopped. I asked her once, and she said they had come to an understanding. So I didn't want him to start hitting her again."

Nicole leaned closer, unable to stop herself as she clasped her fingers around his forearm. " When did the touching turn to more? "

She watched as he stared into the fire, unblinking. " I was fourteen."

" And did you know what was happening? "

" I wasn't that naive, Dr. Westbrook. Of course I knew what was happening."

" I'm sorry. I didn't know if maybe you had withdrawn from society and lived in a bubble, where it was only your mother."

" I was withdrawn, yes. I had no friends. I spent every spare moment on a computer."

Despite everything, Nicole's heart broke for the young man. He was very attractive. She could imagine that girls would have been swooning over him in high school.

" Once your relationship became sexual, did you not consider telling your father at that time? "

" No. I was too embarrassed. And by that time, the whole thing was almost normal to me. I had no problem getting an erection. She told me--and in my young mind I believed her--that she was simply teaching me, so that when I got married, I'd know."

" Weren't you afraid your father would catch you? "

He laughed. " Terrified. So was she." He spread his hands out. " Why do you think she bought this? "

" So this is where you'd come? "

He pointed to a closed door. " In there. That was our room. She'd pick me up after school, and we'd come here. Not every day. Most days."

" Did you ever protest? "

" Like I said, it had become routine, normal. There was nothing to protest."

" So you were getting pleasure from it? " She saw him swallow before he answered.

" I was a teenager having sex almost every day. As long as I didn't dwell on the fact that it was my mother I was fucking, yeah, I got pleasure."

The anger that Nicole heard in his voice frightened her, and Nicole was afraid she'd overstepped her boundary. They weren't doctor-patient. He was a murderer, and she was his hostage.

He stood up, and she shrank back against the couch. But his apology startled her.

" I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so blunt." He was pacing now, and Nicole watched as he moved back and forth in front of the fire. " Yes, it bothered me. When I was at school, when I was at home, it bothered me. It was disgusting to think that I was having sex with my mother. But when we came here, she was no longer my mother. She was just my lover. Here, I was normal. Out there, " he said, pointing out the window. " Out there, I was a freak."

" So the only peace you had, you had here at this cabin, " she stated quietly.

" Yes."

" And whatever you do here, it's normal, " she guessed. " Is that why you brought them here? "

His eyes stared into hers, and she was surprised by the misting of tears she found there.

" Who? "

She looked away. Clearly, he was not ready to talk about the murders. So, she went back to his mother.

" What happened to your mother, Matthew? "

" I'm sure you know the answer to that, Dr. Westbrook." He wiped at his eyes and got himself under control again.

" You killed her? "

He smiled. " Don't you think I had a right to? "

" But you said it felt normal to you. Why would you kill her? "

Again he paced. The once starched shirt was now rumpled, the neat hair in disarray. Yes, he was the victim, Nicole noted. A victim who turned into a vicious killer.

" She told me once that you were the only one who suspected, you know." He walked back to the couch and sat down beside her. " She was wrong."

" What do you mean."

" He suspected."

" Your father? "

Matthew nodded. " It was a Sunday, cold, like today. We had a fire going. She had soup on the stove." He looked at Nicole. " It was nice, " he said quietly. " He was supposed to be working."

Nicole's breath held. " He caught you? "

" He wasn't supposed to know about the cabin. It was ours. We were in the room there, I was... I was on top of her. She was begging me to... to take her harder. I just wanted to please her, " he whispered. " Then he was there and he pulled me off her and threw me against the wall so hard I blacked out."

Without thought, Nicole's hand slid into his. " Then what happened? "