Chapter 42 Now

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I grab the hockey stick that leans next to the front door. It's an improvement over the kitchen knife I kept nearby until a couple of days ago. Though I still hold my breath as I push up onto my toes and check the peephole, so I can pretend I'm not home if need be.

My eyelashes flutter against the tiny round window, blinking at the unexpected visitor, and I blow out lungsful of air as I twist all of the locks and open the door.

"Detective Green? It's good to see you."

He eyes the door, zoning in on all the gleaming locks, and frowns. "Hello, Dr. McCall. Could I come in for a few minutes?"

"Of course." I step aside.

Detective Green enters, and his eyes fall to the hockey stick I forgot I'm still holding in my hand.

"Oh." I set it next to the door and smack my hands against each other. "I was just organizing some stuff."

He offers a pacifying nod. "How are you holding up, Dr. McCall?"

"I'm okay. Well, I'd be better if I wasn't terrified to leave my apartment, if I'm being honest." I force a haphazard smile and motion toward the kitchen. "How about some tea? I was just about to make myself a cup, so the water's already hot."

"That would be great. Thanks."

Detective Green follows me into the kitchen. We both stay silent while I take a second mug down from the cupboard and steep two tea bags.

"Milk?"

He shakes his head. "Just some sugar, if you have it. My wife says I like a little tea in my morning sugar."

I smile and reach for the sugar bowl. It hasn't been used much since Connor. "My husband was the same way."

Settling into the seat across from Detective Green, I take a deep breath. "So, how's the investigation going?"

"Very well, actually. That's what I came to talk to you about. Rebecca Jordan has been arrested."

The statement hits like a needle scratching to a halt on a record. It feels like the wind has been knocked out of me. "When?"

"Last night." He nods. "She was arraigned this morning. The judge denied bail. Ms. Jordan is no longer a threat to you, Dr. McCall."

My heart races. "Are you sure?"

He smiles. "I was in the courtroom and watched the officers escort her out in handcuffs. She's not going anywhere for a long time. She confessed last night, on video, to two murders—Ellen and Rose Wright."

I cover my mouth. Relief floods through me, but it's mixed with something else—sadness, I think? Another life destroyed in this mess.

Detective Green wraps his hands around the mug in front of him. "Ms. Jordan also provided details of all the times she's followed you, said it had been going on a long time, ever since you walked out of some coffee shop in the fall of last year."

Oh my God. The woman with the long blond hair and an armful of books! I knew Rebecca always looked vaguely familiar. I'd just never been able to place her face. But now it's clear as day. She'd been behind me, staring at me, the afternoon I first spotted Gabriel and followed him. I'd chalked it up to being in her way. I'd been so frazzled that day. That was months before I'd known she existed. It's terrifying to think how unaware I was for so long. How vulnerable.

"But why? Why did she follow me all that time?"

"It was never really about you, but about your relationship with Mr. Wright. She seems a bit… fixated on the man. She said she followed you because you were following him." Detective Green shakes his head. "She wanted to know why and has been keeping tabs on you ever since. When Mr. Wright became a patient of yours, she did the same. Her interest in you was territorial."

"Did she break into my apartment? I came home one day and my door was open. I could've sworn I remembered locking it. And my key had gone missing a few weeks earlier."

"Not that she admitted to. Though I wouldn't put anything past her. The woman pushed a child into oncoming traffic and told us about it as calmly as if she were discussing the weather. She did send you some packages, though. A Hello Kitty doll and a book? She was trying to scare you, playing mind games. Thought it might keep you away from Mr. Wright."

I shake my head at how deeply this woman was involved in my life. I've replayed the sessions I had with Rebecca over and over in my head, trying to figure out what was truth and what was lies. The only thing I know for certain is she has unhealthy, obsessive relationships with men.

I sigh. "I hope she gets help."

Detective Green sips his tea, watching me over the brim. He's observant, not unlike a psychiatrist, who often learns more from actions than words.

"What about Gabriel?" I ask.

"We've interrogated Mr. Wright three times about his role in things. His story checks out. He was never the one following you. It was always Rebecca." Detective Green catches my eye. "Though he seems to think you were following him, too. He said you crashed into each other in an alley at one point months back, when he was leaving his storage unit."

I've never told Detective Green how things started, but the truth needs to be set free. So I nod. "I was following him for a while. It started by accident. I never set out to do it, I swear. One day, I was sitting in a coffee shop, looking outside, and there he was. The man I'd watched crumple in the emergency room on the worst night of my life. It seemed like the worst night of his, too. Only now he looked happy and I… I followed him. I didn't mean for it to become a thing, but somehow it did." I inhale and blow out a wobbly breath. "Am I in trouble for that?"

He shakes his head. "No. Gabriel Wright has no interest in pressing charges. He feels bad about things that transpired between the two of you. He said you were… more than his doctor. Is that right?"

I look down, ashamed of my actions, and nod. "We were intimate, yes."

Detective Green shakes his head. "You two have some interesting ways of grieving. But regardless, I don't think you're at risk anymore. Rebecca is off the streets, and with your testimony, she won't be back out for decades, if at all. That is, if you're still willing to testify. It should be an open-and-shut case with her confession, but it never is once these dirtbag defense attorneys get involved. Last night she was taking responsibility on camera, and by this morning at arraignment, her lawyer was singing a new tune."

"What do you mean?"

"Her attorney asked for a competency examination. Sounds like he's going to put up an insanity defense. Even had his client rocking back and forth in the courtroom, mumbling about Thailand."

"Thailand?"

Detective Green shrugs. "She just kept rocking back and forth and mumbling, ‘Thailand, Thailand, Thailand.' When the judge took the bench, he threatened to have her removed if she didn't quiet down. Her lawyer apologized and said his client believed she should be in Thailand, not prison."

"What does Thailand have to do with anything?"

"It doesn't. That's the point. Incoherent babbling is a ploy for her defense. Vincent Gigante, one of the most notorious crime bosses, walked around the city wearing a bathrobe, mumbling nonsense to no one in particular, for years. It's what these defense attorneys do. They put on a show. So it will be helpful if you testify. The DA said it will probably cost you your license, once the medical board gets wind that you broke doctor-patient confidentiality, since she never threatened you with any harm."

I nod. "I will. I'll testify. The last few years have been nothing but secrets and lies. The truth has to come out. Gabriel's wife and daughter deserve justice. And I need to give it to them. That's the only way this can end for all of us."

"What will you do if you can't be a psychiatrist anymore?"

I shake my head. "I don't know. But maybe a fresh start is just what I need."

Detective Green finishes his tea and slaps his hands on his knees. "Well, I should get going. The DA will take things from here and be in touch. I've given him your number."

I walk the detective to the door. He stops and looks at the hockey stick. "He was one hell of a player."

I smile sadly. "He was."

"I hope it brings you some peace to know the Wright family's deaths were not his fault. He shouldn't have been on the road in his condition, but Rebecca Jordan committed murder."

"I think it will take some time to absorb, but I'm grateful you got to the bottom of things. Thank you for all you've done."

Detective Green nods. "Take care, Dr. McCall."

I lock the door behind him—one lock, not all three this time—and lean against it, looking over at Connor's stick. Tears stream down my cheeks.

"It's over," I whisper. "You can be free now, too."