Chapter 44

Wednesday, April 24

Holly got to her office early this morning, but she hasn’t written a paragraph, let alone finished a few pages for her book as she had intended. Instead, she keeps dwelling on yesterday’s events: the revelations about Liisa’s professional misconduct, the break-in of her car, and the troubling conversation she had with Aaron last night.

After she discovered the break-in, Holly drove straight over to Aaron’s place. But for the first time since Elaine’s initial allegation triggered an avalanche of crises, he didn’t offer his unconditional support. In fact, Aaron didn’t hide his annoyance as he sat beside her at the kitchen counter, twirling his wineglass aggressively by the stem. “For Christ’s sake, Holly! Now you think someone’s breaking into your car as part of this never-ending patient drama?”

“I didn’t drop the glasses case, Aaron.”

“Was anything else missing?”

“No. They left my sunglasses. Which makes it even weirder. Like someone was looking for something specific.”

He sighed heavily. “Even if someone did break in, why the hell do you immediately assume it has to be related to Liisa or any of your patients?”

“What? Am I supposed to assume it’s just another random coincidence?”

“Come on, Holly. This whole thing is beginning to sound a little…”

“A little what?”

He eyed her steadily. “Like some conspiracy theory.”

She could see his point. Elaine’s overdose. JJ’s apparent suicide. Liisa’s attempt to sabotage the group. And now someone rooting through her car without stealing anything. It would be hard to tie it all together. Unless Liisa was pulling all the strings. “Do you think I’m acting paranoid?”

“I’m not saying that,” he grumbled. “But these days, you keep flailing to find one tidy explanation for everything. Life doesn’t always work that way.”

“Time will tell, I guess.”

“Now what?” he grunted. “You go running back to the police?”

“It’s been a long day.” Holly stood and stepped away from her untouched wineglass on the counter. “Right now, I’m going home.”

Holly had intended to stay the night. She was even considering moving back in. But those flashes of the old Aaron—the intolerance, the superiority, the disdain for her work—reminded her of the reasons she left in the first place.

Tanya knocks at the door, snapping her out of the memory. “Simon Lowry is here to see you.”

“Simon? He’s not on my day sheet, is he?”

“He just showed up,” she says, glancing at her watch with concern. “It seems to be becoming a pattern with this group.”

“No problem, Tanya,” Holly says, still guilt-ridden over her previous session with him. “Please show him in.”

Moments later, Simon is seated across from her, fidgeting with his hands and refusing to make eye contact.

“You don’t seem yourself this morning, Simon,” Holly says. “How can I help?”

“There’s just so much shit going on these days,” he mutters, still not looking up at her.

“With the tribe?”

He nods. “But it’s not just that. I’m also dealing with this… um… legal situation…”

“Kyla?”

His head jerks up, and his eyes lock onto hers. “I told you about her?”

Holly nods. “And her friend, yes.”

“It’s a shakedown, nothing more!” His expression is almost pleading. “They’re jumping on this vulnerable political climate to extort me.”

Holly musters a sympathetic nod.

Simon’s face crumples, and he suddenly looks very old to her. “I can’t remember our last session,” he says. “Practically nothing about it. What else did I tell you? I’ve got to know!”

“Nothing too different from what we’ve discussed before,” Holly says, deliberately easing the blow. “You did touch on your legal challenges with the two young women.”

“Shit,” he murmurs.

Holly doesn’t have the heart to tell him that he also described including her in his bondage fantasies. Instead, she says, “You mentioned JJ, too.”

Simon’s head twitches. “JJ? What did I say?”

“Just that you two had had a run-in last month after you shared some of your… proclivities with her.”

He sinks lower into his chair. “That was nothing. I thought we were having a… connection. I was only trying to be up-front with JJ.”

“It’s all right, Simon.”

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. “Why are my memories from that last session so jumbled? That’s never happened before with ketamine. Even that time you added in MDMA.”

“That’s my fault, Simon.”

“Your fault? How?”

“You became very distressed. I gave you a sedative, midazolam, at the end of the session to help calm you. But it often causes short-term amnesia.”

Simon looks back up at her. For a moment, Holly senses hostility, even hatred, behind his tight stare. But then his face relaxes into a more familiar, affable smile. “You yanked me out of a bad trip. I guess I should probably thank you.”

“No, you shouldn’t. I had no right to pry while you were on ketamine. It stressed you out. And I’m sorry.”

He folds his arms across his chest. “Eh, live and learn.”

His body language suggests that he’s far less accepting of her explanation than what he is letting on, but Holly feels too sheepish to prod or dig any deeper. “Thank you for understanding.”

Simon sighs. “Look, Dr. D, I know you must be disgusted by my… how do the French put it?… peccadillos.”

Holly smiles. “I think that word might be Spanish.”

“The point is I’ve been plagued by these fantasies since I was a kid. The urge to tie women up. To dominate them.”

Holly pushes away her discomfort at the thought of him fantasizing about her that same way. “Fantasies aren’t always voluntary.”

“Right! Exactly. Listen, I’m no shrink, but it has to all go back to my relationship with my mother. That woman raised me single-handedly. But she also resented the fuck out of me. I could never win her approval, let alone her love.”

Holly nods. “A repetitive childhood trauma like that could contribute to your sexual predilections. And to addiction. No question.”

“Another therapist once told me that my bondage fantasies are related to my very deep insecurity. How I was starved for love and approval as a child. The way he explained it was that basically I physically restrain—trap—the women I’m with for fear they’ll otherwise slip away. Metaphorically speaking, to prevent their love from escaping.”

The rationale sounds rehearsed to Holly. And in her mind, it’s too literal an explanation, not to mention very convenient, for his dark fetishes. But all she says is “There could be a connection, yes.”

“But you have to understand,” Simon pleads. “It has nothing to do with pain. I’m not a sadist. I’ve never wanted to hurt anyone.”

Holly leans forward. “I believe you, Simon.”

“All this work we’ve done. All this progress I’ve made under your therapy. Taming those urges that have handcuffed me all this time,” he says, seemingly oblivious to the irony of his metaphor. “It’s been such a waste.”

“Why a waste?”

“I heard from my lawyer this morning. Kyla has upped her demands. On top of millions, she wants a written apology, too. Or she won’t sign an NDA.” He holds out his palms. “What’s the fucking point of an NDA if I sign some kind of confession?”

“Your lawyers will work it out, I’m sure.”

“I don’t trust them anymore,” he grumbles. “I tried to get a second opinion from Reese, but I couldn’t reach her yesterday.”

“I can’t help you, Simon. This is way out of my realm.”

He sighs heavily. “It’s more than just the accusations. I think Liisa is right. I mean who the fuck are we kidding? The tribe is finished.”

A chill runs between Holly’s shoulder blades. “Liisa said that?”

He nods. “She texted us all. In a group chat. She said she was dropping out. And she told us to do the same.”

“Can I see those texts?”

He hesitates. “Don’t think that’s the best idea.”

She extends a hand toward him. “Simon, please,” she says in a firm tone. “I need to see this conversation.”

After a moment, Simon digs his phone from his pocket, taps on the screen a few times, and then, with obvious reluctance, hands it over to Holly.

Holly scans the text chain on the screen. Her chest burns as she reads words such as “toxic,” “scheme,” and “sacrifice,” which Liisa used to describe Holly’s intentions.

She scrolls down below the point in the chat where Liisa announced she was leaving, but there are no more texts from her.

At the bottom of the text chain, Holly spots a message from Salvador that was sent at 7:22 this morning. I stopped by Liisa’s townhouse on my way to the studio. Totally dark. And her car wasn’t out front.

Baljit replied: Wonder if she’s flown the coop.

“I think she’s gone,” Holly mutters, more to herself than Simon.

Simon eases his phone out of her hand. “Liisa told me she was going to miss some upcoming sessions. Conflicts or something?” He frowns. “Maybe she’d already planned a trip?”

“You spoke to Liisa?” Holly motions to his phone. “After those group texts?”

“No. Before. Earlier in the day. But man, was she singing a different tune. She didn’t seem angry. She certainly never mentioned anything about you being…”

“Toxic?”

“Yeah.”

She’s definitely gone.