Chapter 24

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     DETECTIVE CONOR PARALLEL parks the unmarked car in the parking space of Holistic Healing Haven and unfastens the seat belt. He’d phoned Dr. Flynn on his way and requested to have a conversation with him involving one of his clients. He adjusts his jacket as he ambles to the elevator.

     Today’s meeting with Isla rolls in his head. He had suspected that Isla wasn’t telling him the whole truth. She was nervous during the conversation—which could be due to several reasons—and not necessarily that she was hiding something.  He has spoken with a lot of people linked to cases assigned to him. Even victims showed nervousness at the mention of the police. Soon, he realized most people get nervous at the sight of cops.

     But there is something about Isla that still nags at him. He sensed that she wasn’t being sincere, but she didn’t strike him as somebody capable of kidnapping.  For now, he would pursue this lead and see where it gets him.

     He presses a button. The metal door slides open and he steps inside. It takes him to the front door desk where a tall slender woman with chestnut hair sits speaking to someone on the telephone.

     “Okay. You too,” she says and hangs up.

     Detective Conor nears her with a small smile. “Good day, Miss. I’m Detective Conor with the Amarillo PD.” He shows her a badge. “I’m here to see Dr. Flynn.”

     The receptionist returns the smile. “Good day. Dr. Flynn’s office is the first door on your left. Take this hallway, and it will lead you there.”

     Conor puts his badge away. “Thanks,” he says.

     “You’re welcome.”

     He heads down the narrow hallway and walks briskly to the office with DR. MARTIN FLYNN pasted across the door. He knocks and waits.

     A voice says, “Come on in.”

     He touches the knob, gives the door a push, and enters.

     Dr. Flynn sits behind a neatly arranged desk, reading a file. He places it down and glances at Conor.

     “You must be Detective Conor. We spoke earlier on the phone.” He points to a chair. “Have a seat.”

     Conor walks to the appointed seat, studying the atmosphere. He sits down and heaves a sigh.

     “Can I get you anything?” Flynn asks.

     “No, thanks. I’m good. I want us to talk about a client of yours. Isla Dupree.”

     Isla? God, what happened to her? Did she succumb and give in to her dark desires?

     He hopes not, but showing consternation at the mention of one of his clients could send the wrong signal to this detective, and that’s the last thing he wanted. He could put his career in jeopardy if he suspected one of his clients was planning to cause harm but said nothing to the police. Maybe he’d thought he could help her get rid of her morbid thoughts like he had done with so many clients. Not all of his past clients were psychopaths. Some were normal people having difficult times in life—which we all do at some point. Does that make us psychopaths? He doesn’t think so.

     During his sessions with Isla, he didn’t think she was a psychopath, capable of what she said she’d do. To him, Isla is an ordinary woman who is angry so much that she can cause destruction, like ruining her replacement’s wedding gown, but nothing too criminal that can’t be settled easily without the police getting involved. Had he been wrong? If Detective Conor is here because of Isla, then it isn’t good.

     He feigns a smile, which isn’t a habit. He has never had to fake a smile during his life as a therapist till now.

     “Sure, but before we start, I must remind you I’m bound by doctor-patient confidentiality. Until you provide an order from the court, I can’t divulge any sensitive information to you.”

     “I know the ethics you’re confined to. I’ve got a similar one myself. I won’t ask you anything that could compromise your ethics. Even if I do, you can decide not to answer,” Conor says.

     “All right.”

     Conor pulls a card from his pocket and shows it to Flynn. “That’s your business card, right?”

     He bobs his head.

     He puts it away, goes for his small notepad, and glances through a page. Looking up, he says, “Where were you yesterday morning?”

     “Work. I had an appointment with the patient Isla Dupree. I was with her all morning.”

     So the alibi is true after all? He knew Isla couldn’t have made that one up. The possibility of her being away at the time of the crime was high to him, even before he drove here. But that doesn’t eliminate Isla as a prime suspect. There’s still a motive and based on everything he’s learned, Isla has a strong motive.

     Disappointed, he puts the notepad aside and asks his next question. “What was Isla seeing you for?”

     Dr. Flynn rethinks his answer. He can give a reply without compromising his ethics. Can he?

     “She had challenges accepting what was happening in her life, and I was supposed to help her accept what was happening without her doing something she’ll regret later.”

     Conor nods. “Did she ever mention Rosina Scott to you?”

     Flynn’s heart thumps. He doesn’t like where the questions are going, but he can’t frown. At least not yet.

     “Yes,” he says dryly.

     “What did she tell you about her?”

     There’s no way he can reply to that without talking about the killing part. In their first session, all she talked about was killing Rosina. But would she have done it? Probably not. To his knowledge, it is not a crime to think about murdering someone. It’s considered a crime when it becomes premeditated and actions are taken. Everyone has a dark impulse, which we try to control every single time they’re triggered. We only become monsters when we let them out. True, Isla was thinking about murder, but it didn’t strike Dr. Flynn that she could do it.

     But wait! Did something happen to Rosina? That’s when it occurs to him he has no idea why the detective was in his office.

     “Did something happen to Rosina?”

     “We have evidence to suggest she was kidnapped,” he says.

     “And you think my client is involved?”

     Conor says bluntly, “At the moment, she’s our primary suspect. She’s the only person with a strong motive to kidnap the vic.”

     “Got any evidence?” Flynn asks.

     “She tore her wedding dress and sent her a nasty note.” Conor eyes Dr. Flynn. “Now will you answer my question?”

     “No. Get me a court order. I think I’m done answering your questions.”

     The line on his forehead deepens. Flynn notices that he’s upset, but he doesn’t care. He won’t tell him that Isla was thinking of killing Rosina because that would be a breach of confidentiality. What is he if he goes about telling cops on the first meeting what his clients want to do? He knows he made the right call.

     “All right, Dr. Flynn.” He rises and stuffs his notepad into his jacket, then walks toward his desk, placing a card on it. “Thanks for your time. That’s my card. Call me if you decide to change your mind. I will be working on the court order soon.”

     He looks between him and the card. He doesn’t think he’ll ever call him till he provides a court order. “Pleasure is all mine.”

     He watches him move swiftly to the door, walk out, and close it. As the door shuts, he wonders if he did the right thing. He knows Isla has been hiding something from him, but it’s not remotely close to murder. He’d be meeting Isla today. They could talk about it first.

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