of the pantry door. Doggie treats had definitely lost their appeal. He whined again, drawing the final note out like a true hound in distress.
“Come, Jung,” Ryan ordered, shaking the box.
Jung glanced over at him, his brown eyes seeming to say
Ryan reached over and grabbed the Lab’s collar. He had to practically drag Jung across the kitchen floor to the back door. The Lab’s toenails skidded across the floor as Ryan pushed him out the door. He threw two biscuits out onto the patio and then slid the door closed.
“Have a seat, gentlemen.”
Normally he would have invited them all into the living room, but something told him that Tess wanted to hear what they had to say. Hell, he was curious, as well. He had no idea why Tess was cowering in the back of his pantry, frightened of the men who had entered his house. But he was smart enough to know that there had to be a good reason for her fear.
He opened the refrigerator and grabbed a pitcher of iced tea, setting on the table. “What’s this all about?”
“The general’s daughter disappeared. He’s been concerned about her whereabouts and when he heard she was here in Half Moon, he came to pick her up.”
“How did he know she was here?” Ryan leveled a glance in the general’s direction. The man stared coolly back, a thin line of anger bracketing his lips. An uncomfortable chill slid up the middle of Ryan’s back. This was a man who was used to getting his way, and he was positioning himself to get that now.
“I saw the news clip on the accident and heard about the appearance of a young women who didn’t know her name.”
Ryan frowned. “But there was no picture of Tess on the TV.”
“The description they provided fit the description of my daughter.”
“So, you’re not positive she
Ryan forced himself not to glance in the direction of the pantry. Something in the general’s face told him that the man was waiting for exactly that kind of reaction.
“I’m not positive,” Flynn said begrudgingly, “but my daughter’s name is Tess.”
“It’s critical the general locate his daughter,” Bloom said. “She has a lot of serious problems.”
“What kind of problems?”
Bloom pulled a thick file out of his briefcase and dropped it onto the table. “General Flynn was kind enough to bring a copy of his daughter’s psychiatric file. I’ve looked it over. This is a young woman with a long history of very severe psychiatric problems.”
“Which might explain the dead man in the cornfield,” Cole added, setting his glass down.
Ryan shook his head. “I’m sorry, but there’s no way Tess is responsible for the death of that man.” He tapped the file in front of him. “I don’t care what kind of crap is in this file.”
“The Ryan Donovan I know doesn’t jump to conclusions without reading all the evidence,” Bloom said. “Read the file. She’s a paranoid schizophrenic, suffering from auditory and visual hallucinations. She’s attempted suicide five times, and she has physically assaulted her father, two boyfriends and a whole line of different hospital staff over the past five years. She even tried to stab an orderly while escaping from the last facility she was in. She was there on a seventy-two-hour court-ordered evaluation. You know what that means.”
Ryan stood up. This was just getting worse. He knew only too well what a court-ordered evaluation meant. A person didn’t get committed unless he or she was totally out of control. Unless he or she was suicidal or homicidal.
He raked a hand through his hair. “We can’t be talking about the same person.” He paused, his eyes connecting with the general’s. “I’m a good clinician. I’ve spent time with this woman-not just a session or two in my office. It’s ridiculous for me to even consider the possibility that she’s psychotic or capable of the level of violence you’re talking about.”
Flynn smiled coldly. “Believe me when I say that I know my daughter, too, Doctor. Perhaps better than you.” He reached over and tapped the psychiatric file. “Do as Dr. Bloom suggests-read the file. My daughter is capable of the things Dr. Bloom describes.”
Ryan shook his head again, refusing to buy any of what they were saying. “I’m sorry, but again we have to be talking about two different women.”
Flashing a look of disdain, Flynn flipped open the file and pointed to a photo stapled to the inside front cover. “Is this the woman currently staying at your house?”
Dread tightened around Ryan’s throat. There was no mistaking the stunning cloud of white-blond hair. He leaned closer, studying the photo. Tess’s face stared out at him from the photo. She had a more sophisticated, polished look. Her trademark hair was twisted up off her smooth porcelain shoulders, and soft, wispy tendrils escaped to frame a classically oval face and wide expressive green eyes.
“Is this the woman?” the general demanded.
Ryan dragged his eyes away from the picture. “Yes, that’s her.”
“I thought so.” Flynn sat back. “You need to understand something, Doctor. Tess was a difficult child. A violent teenager prone to both verbally and physically aggressive behavior.”
“Most teenagers go through a rebellious stage, General,” Ryan protested. “In our society it’s almost a rite of passage.”
Flynn smiled indulgently. “Tess rebelled at age eight. She was plagued with horrible nightmares from birth on. But she was always bright and articulate. Perhaps tragically bright. She was admitted to Rochester Institute of Technology when she was only seventeen. It was there that she experienced her first psychotic break.”
“How?” Ryan asked.
“Her first semester, campus security found Tess on the roof of the high-rise dorm, stark naked and covered in paint. She insisted that she was involved in an ancient tribal ritual that made it imperative that she jump off the high-rise and soar out over the campus. She had to be restrained by three security men.”
Ryan swallowed hard. Surprisingly, the scenario didn’t seem that far-fetched. He’d heard and seen enough similar incidents in his own practice. Had her earlier appearance at the Carson’s farm, naked and confused, been the first indication of a new break? The thought threw him. How could he have been so wrong about her? How could he have missed the clinical signs?
“Tess is quite good at manipulating people,” Flynn said, as if picking up on Ryan’s train of thought. “I’m not at all surprised you weren’t able to pick up on her psychosis. She has moments of very rational behavior.”
“But she wasn’t so rational when she killed the driver of that car, was she?” Cole asked, sounding like a one- note recording.
Ryan turned on the police chief. “You’ve wanted to pin this on her from the moment you met her. What’s your problem?”
A part of Ryan knew he was being unreasonable. Unwilling to look at the evidence with an open mind. But he was angry. Angry that he’d missed the evidence. Angry that any of this had to be true.
“In case you’ve forgotten, Doc, the man is dead,” Cole said.
“How do you even know she was with him?”
“Because I hired him to bring Tess here to Half Moon,” Flynn said.
“You what?” Ryan whipped around to face Flynn. “Hired him? Why?”
“His name was Trevor Vaughn. He was a registered nurse I hired to transport Tess here to the center. I heard about some of the experimental work being done here, and I thought it was worth the effort to see if Dr. Bloom could help Tess.”
A wave of suspicion brushed the back of Ryan’s neck, and his clinical radar went off with a silent wail. Something was not right. Flynn’s story didn’t fit what Ryan had witnessed at the crash site.
He kept his face impassive as he studied the General. The weariness and concern on the man’s face seemed forced, as if he was playing a role.
“Vaughn was supposed to hire two other professionals to assist him with Tess’s transfer. But it seems that he decided to pocket the money rather than hire additional help. It’s a mistake that seems to have cost the man his life.”
Ryan knew there were huge inconsistencies in what the man was saying. The story didn’t ring true. “It isn’t often that a person crashes through a fence in an attempt to get
