The only man she’d ever truly loved.
Jack Kilborn
Disturb
After sitting in the conference room for several minutes, Dr. Red Fletcher knew that Theena and Bill weren’t coming back. He assumed that they were in Manny’s room-it was obvious they had the hots for each other, even if you weren’t a trained psychoanalyst. Under the guise of testing his assumption, he bid good-bye to his colleagues and went to his office, located a few doors down.
The room was an intentional replica of the office at his practice downtown, with the same style Victorian desk, the same leather couch, many of the same books on the shelves. There was no view, naturally, but he compensated with several landscape paintings and soft track lighting. A place for thinking, a place for healing.
The main difference between his two offices was the secret place, as he liked to call it. The brown door in the corner was always locked, and Red had the only key.
Red went into the secret place and switched on the light. The Mac on the desk hummed; it was always on. The space was small, cramped, the size of a large closet. He sat down at the keyboard.
Dr. Nikos had been the only other person that knew about this place-Red had needed his permission and funding to set it up. But Nikos hadn’t even known the tip of it.
Along the walls, in racks, were dozens of labeled CDRs. The computer looked like any other modest system, unless you examined the back and noticed the extra cables running to and from the CPU. Red typed a command and the sound came up on the speakers.
Moaning and breathing, from Manny’s room.
Red smiled. He’d been right. He checked to make sure it was being burned on the CD, and then turned the sound down.
Bugging Manny’s room had been his idea. Red was an ethical doctor, but this was an exceptional case. Manny was his patient, yes, and he wanted to help him. But first and foremost, Manny was a guinea pig for an experimental drug. Red’s job here was to evaluate the psychological effect it had on Manny, and if that meant violating his trust, so be it.
It was a good thing he did, because some of the things Red had recorded were extraordinary.
He took down a CD labeled “MANNY and DAVID #7”, put it in the second disk drive, and turned up the volume.
Voices filled the small room, David and Manny in a heated argument. Red sat down and picked up his notebook, leafing through it.
“You cover for me. You always cover for me.”
“I have to, David. You’re my brother.”
Red squinted at his handwriting, wishing it were more legible. He found the session he wanted and read. Manny had been talking about his youth, describing an instance where David killed a neighbor’s dog. Manny told their foster parents. David was sent to juvenile hall, and like most kids in juvee, he’d been abused.
Manny had never gotten over the guilt of doing that to his brother. Even though Manny hadn’t been the one to beat the animal to death, he felt responsible.
“Stop it, David! You’re hurting me!”
Red pursed his lips, listening to the tape, wondering if he could actually hear the singeing sound of the hot iron on skin or if it was his imagination.
He questioned, yet again, if he should have attempted to stop it. True, Manny’s healing abilities were accelerated, but shouldn’t he have stepped in and tried to prevent him from being hurt?
“Not my job.” Red said the words to reaffirm his decision. “My job is to observe and evaluate.”
Dr. Nikos had never known about the friction between Manny and David. Red had planned on telling him, but had wanted to gather enough data to formulate a diagnosis first. He knew David was violent, but was unsure if his incessant mention of homicide was real or imaginary. He believed that David would never actually kill someone. It was just tough talk; bravado and swagger.
Or was it?
A sobering thought, especially in light of Dr. Nikos’s murder. But Red was sure it couldn’t have been David. David hadn’t been there.
No, someone else killed Dr. Nikos. Red set it in his mind. It had to have been someone else.
He popped out the CD and checked on the sounds in Manny’s room.
More moaning and groaning.
Red smiled. “Ah, youth.”
He left it on, again telling himself it was for professional rather than prurient reasons. Theena intrigued him. As a Freudian, he was immediately aware of the complex she suffered from; it was her primary motivation for beginning the affair with Manny. Red was unsure of her motive in this instance.
It might have been the need for sex, but she seemed to have been getting enough of that already. Was she doing it with Bill out of pity?
The moans didn’t sound like pity to Red.
Something else then. Romantic feelings, perhaps? Or perhaps Bill was a more appropriate substitute than Manny was.
Red switched off the sound and left the room, locking the door behind him. Fascinating as she was, Theena wasn’t his patient. She had a right to her secrets.
He did, however, pocket a CD labeled MANNY and THEENA #4, to listen to later.
It was only lunch time, but with Manny still missing, Red had no reason to stay at DruTech. He pondered going into the office downtown, but everything there could wait.
Red chose to go home. Rather than track down his fellow employees to inform them he was going, he used the intercom. Units were in every room, on the wall next to the entrance. He stood next to his and pressed the speak button.
“I’m heading home. Good day, everyone.”
His voice echoed loudly over the house speakers, imbedded in all the ceilings throughout the complex. A moment later, the speakers bellowed with a feminine voice.
“GOOD-BYE, DR. RED.”
Red smiled. Julia always responded. He hardly ever talked to her professionally, but he knew her shy nature made self-reaffirmation through others a necessity. In return she always offered affirmation back in greetings and farewells.
He knew she was awaiting a response, and he gave it to her.
“Good-bye, Julia. See you tomorrow.”
“SEE YOU TOMORROW.”
“Have a nice day.”
“YOU TOO. HAVE A NICE DAY.”
He could have replied again, knowing Julia would keep this up forever. But amusing as it was, he wanted to get on his way.
Red owned a ranch house in the wealthy town of Barrington. The sun was out in full force, and in the parking lot Red paused to take some big, full breaths. Autumn was in the air, with its own special, earthy smell.
The weather was mild enough to roll down the windows halfway, and he took a route through the forest preserve to see the trees turning. Nature pleased Red, and fall colors were a special delight. The leaves reminded him of his youth, placing them under paper and rubbing them with a crayon to get impressions. Simple tactile pleasures.
The hit from behind was wholly unexpected.
Red always drove under the speed limit. Mostly for safety’s sake, but he also got a secret pleasure causing road rage in the impatient.
As a result of his driving habits, he’d been rear-ended several times. It had never been his fault, and was never anything more serious than a fender bender.
This was different.
Red’s head was jerked back, and his car swerved onto the shoulder. He hit the brakes, spun, and finally came to a stop facing the wrong side of the street.
