“Unless that risk is imagined.”
Ellie’s hand wrapped around the doorknob, so tight he could see that her knuckles were turning white. “Thank you for your help today, Dr. Powell.”
She slipped out the door and let it close behind her before he could open his mouth to respond. Sighing, he tidied up the therapy nook, using what was left of her water on one of the plants hanging from a ceiling hook near the window.
He shook his head and tossed his notepad on the desk. It was going to be interesting to be privy to Ellie taking on another kidnap victim, and possibly wrecking her career by doing so.
6
Jillian schlepped down Ellie’s apartment building’s hallway, laden down with everything she’d brought from her car, unwilling to make two trips. Her purse strap dug into her shoulder, and the messenger bag that held her work laptop bounced on her hip with every step.
Her arms protested under the weight of a white file box, but she was determined. Her mother would have said stubborn. The plush navy-blue carpet rendered her footsteps almost silent, though her labored breathing made stealth impossible.
“Some private eye you’d be,” she mumbled to herself. No one knew, but it was her dream to become a private investigator, and she was as good as living it by helping Ellie solve cases while still working as a file clerk in the basement of Charleston PD.
Stopping and rolling her shoulders, she grimaced and readjusted the strap on the messenger bag so it didn’t bang awkwardly against her leg. When she finally reached the front door of Ellie’s place, she stuck out her hip, balancing the heavy cardboard file box against her body so she could unlock the door.
Pushing the door inward with her toe, she dropped her bags and the box in the entryway a split-second before a blur of dark fur and wet kisses collided with her. The impact was so hard she stumbled back into the wall, laughing.
“You should’ve called me to come down. I would’ve helped you with that.” Ellie lounged on the sofa, long legs stretched out. Wearing loose shorts and an oversized shirt, her bare feet crossed at the ankles, she was still damp from a shower, her hair clipped high on her head in a messy pile of tight ringlets. Her favorite thick red robe hung open, the knot keeping it closed barely tied.
It was the most relaxed and the least put together Jillian had ever seen her, yet she somehow looked just as elegant as she did in designer shoes and a dress created just for her.
“I had it under control. Besides, you look like you’re in for the night.” She consulted her watch with a snort. “At four in the afternoon.” Jillian gave Sam another pat, and she extracted herself from the front paws wrapped around her waist before plopping down in the overstuffed loveseat across from her new roommate.
An empty glass with a few drops of dark liquid at the bottom sat on the end table, along with a partially demolished box of handcrafted chocolates. Ellie handed the box to Jillian, taking a piece for herself.
“Rough day?”
Ellie rolled her eyes, savoring the dark square of chocolate one tiny bite at a time before she finally answered. “You have no idea.”
“I would be climbing up the walls if I were you.”
“I rearranged the furniture.”
“Again?” Jillian eyed the room. “Wait, where?”
“I put it back. I didn’t like it.”
“You need to get out of the house more. At least you’re coming back to the office tomorrow. Right?”
“Yeah.” Ellie grimaced. “I’ll be working the tip line. I think Charleston PD uses it as punishment.”
Jillian popped a piece of chocolate into her mouth and groaned as the delightful flavor of gourmet chocolate and red raspberries hit her taste buds.
“Maybe Powell will put a good word in with the chief.” Ellie stood, taking her empty glass to the kitchen and returning with two glasses of sparkling water. She handed one to Jillian and sat down again.
Jillian wrinkled her nose. “You’ve spent a lot of time with the shrink lately.”
Ellie snorted, shaking her head. “You’re telling me. Johnson made it clear that if I went every day, he’d be thrilled. What a waste of time.”
“At least Dr. Powell is nice, right?” Jillian shot her a grimace.
She shrugged. “He’s good at what he does. That’s not the problem.”
“You don’t want to be there.” Jillian sipped from her glass, the bubbles tickling her tongue, a hint of blood orange flavoring the fizzy drink. As she swallowed, her eyes met Ellie’s over the rim of the glass.
“No, I don’t.”
“If you have to go, you might as well embrace it. Johnson can’t dictate what you talk about during your sessions, can he?”
“No, he can’t.” Ellie fingered her hair, spreading out the clumping curls. “And I took advantage of the time with Powell, but I’m not going to lie, it was pretty intense.”
“Did you recover more memories today?”
“Just fragments.” She scowled, her eyes going unfocused as her attention turned inward. “None of the pieces seem to fit together, and the parts I remember in large chunks don’t make sense.”
“Just be patient, Ellie. It’ll come to you.”
“It’s been twelve years.” She shook her head. “Actually, almost thirteen years. It happened a few weeks after my fifteenth birthday.”
“It’s understandable that you feel out of sorts this time of year. Anniversaries have a huge impact on our psyche, even if we’re unaware of it.”
“That’s not it.” She bit her lower lip and let out a long, dejected sigh. “I want to testify at the trial.”
“You’re the lead detective on the case. Isn’t that a given?”
“I want to testify as a victim of the trafficking ring that sold Valerie Price to Arthur Fink.”
Jillian blinked, setting her glass down on the table so she didn’t
