Chapter 39

A faint hintof incense hung in the stale air of the rectory. With their eyes closed, Claire could study the group freely. There were fourteen of them, all dutifully doing their meditative breathing, just as Dr. Dvita instructed. Claire tried, but the air was heavy with judgment.

She didn't like meeting at St. Ann's. The rectory wasn't in the church, but it might as well have been. It was a building next door, connected by a narrow breezeway of stained glass windows. Flyers for community events and AA meetings made a colorful collage on the cork board next to the giant crucifix affixed to the wall.

It was all a bit too B-horror movie for Claire. As she looked around the room, she expected someone to start speaking in tongues or burst into flames.

Her eyes kept falling to the two men missing from the group. Hayes and Max. Though he was an orderly and not a patient, Max had always been invited to participate in the group sessions at Passages. It was at one such session that he and Claire bonded.

She normally hated group sessions. Everyone spent way too much time droning on about themselves and their ‘problems.'Most of the patients at Passages were socialites, celebrities or political types who needed a time out from the real world. It was a holiday where they could dry out from their habit of choice, only to return to it and the cushy life that awaited them at their leisure.

But it was Max who made her realize not everyone was like that. There were a few who'd come to Passages as a last resort. And even fewer who came involuntarily.

Max was one of them. They'd connected instantly. Two lost souls. Perhaps even soulmates. The ache that existed in his absence was overwhelming. She needed him to be okay. He was her only way through this.

Claire's mind wandered back to her conversation with Betty. They had much more to discuss, but Dr. Dvita was in a hurry to get started.

"Thank you all for being here today. The work we do is important. We can't let outside influences, no matter how tragic, stray us from our mission. Progress through passage."

The group recited Dvita's mantra. "Through rites of passage we evolve."

"That's right," he praised. "We must leave our dependance behind in order to transform into our highest selves."

"Mistakes can be mended, challenges can cultivate," the group parroted.

It was these cult-like mantras that made the group sessions at Passages so intolerable to Claire. Luckily, they were voluntary, so she rarely went.

But it was one such session where she'd first met Max. He was someone who found strength in numbers, explaining it was comforting for him to be in a group setting. She expressed how uncomfortable sharing to a room full of strangers felt. That's when he'd come up with the perfect compromise. A smaller group of their choosing. It's how they came to meet with Betty and Hayes. After that, their little circle was inseparable.

It was almost strange how simple their friendship had started, especially when Claire thought about how complex it was now.

The mention of Max pulled her attention back to Dr. Dvita. "Let us keep Taft and Max in our thoughts."

Claire didn't like the way Dr. Dvita lumped Max with Hayes, like he too was dead. And she hated that everyone here referred to Hayes as Taft. Max was the only one at the center who didn't go by the ridiculous presidential or first lady moniker. But why would he? People without identities didn't need to conceal them.

"What happened at Passages is a tragedy," Dvita continued, "but it would be an even bigger tragedy to let the progress of many be erased by the actions of a few. I encourage you to keep your focus centered on the horizon, with your goals in sight. Know that my door is always open if there is anything you want to discuss regarding this terrible matter we've all endured. Considering the situation, Passages will remain closed until further notice."

A murmur of discontent rumbled through the crowd.

"But … but, I will continue to conduct group sessions here and will be available for individual sessions as needed. There will be a flyer on the board with the dates and times of the group sessions, along with my availability for additional sessions. I encourage you to sign up after class if you have anything you would like to discuss pertaining to Taft."

An older man in a yellow sweater raised his hand. "Do you know who killed him?"

Dr. Dvita studied him momentarily before answering. "Right now, the investigation is on-going. That's why it's so important for us to have these discussions. It's possible that we may have information that could help the police."

Betty spoke up. "We've already been questioned by the police."

"Yes, but I think everyone here knows how things can get locked in our subconscious. Sometimes the tiniest details make all the difference. That's why I'm acting as a liaison to the investigation. If you think of anything, please come to me first."

Half a dozen hands shot up.

"Privately," Dr. Dvita amended.

All but one hand went down. Dr. Dvita addressed the same man in the yellow sweater. "Yes, Carter."

"Will we get in trouble?"

"No," Dr. Dvita answered. "The police have assured me they're not looking for anything other than cooperation."

Another hand went up: Lincoln. "Some people are saying what happened to Taft is karma. Do you believe that?"

"Ah, you pose an interesting question." Dvita circled to address the group. "Lincoln is suggesting the idea that the universe returns what we give it, in that Taft got what was coming to him."

"Like vigilante justice?" another patient asked.

"Yes! Like Batman," someone yelled.

"Max liked Batman," another interjected.

After that the conversation swung like a pendulum of speculation and accusations.

"Do you think it was Max?"

"Why else would he be missing?"

"Maybe he's dead, too."

"Or he was the killer."

An ache began to form in Claire's jaw. She didn't know how much more of this she could sit through. It felt like she was witnessing the precipice of something that would end with pitchforks and an angry mob.

Claire caught Betty's eye across the room. She was right. They needed to find Max. And they needed to do it on their own.