Chastened by her stupidity, she waited for his breathing to slow. Damn. Would he ever trust her again? If he didn’t, she would have to apologise to Harrison for her unprofessional conduct and excuse herself from the case. Or, she could lie.
She glanced sideways at his clenched hands and rigid posture. Unless Tim said anything, there was no reason for Harrison to know.
15
Erin slept badly in the cheap motel by the motorway, tossing and turning on the sagging mattress, only to rise from uneasy dreams just before dawn. Ten minutes early for her debrief with Harrison, she was groggy and in need of caffeine. As she waited for him to arrive, she tried to gauge the damage she might have caused to Tim’s case by her bungled attempt to form a connection.
Harrison hurried into his office a few minutes late, juggling a battered briefcase and a cup of coffee in a red mug bearing the logo of a drug company.
‘Would you care for a coffee?’ He lifted the mug. ‘I can ask Gloria to bring you a cup.’
She nodded her thanks and waited for him to settle into his chair. His manner was unruffled, if a bit distracted.
After his assistant set the coffee on Harrison’s desk, Erin reached for the cup and clutched it with both hands. It wasn’t warmth she needed, but courage. Though she knew it was ridiculous to feel like an awkward schoolgirl facing a stern headmaster.
She cleared her throat. ‘Did you speak to Tim yesterday afternoon?’
He polished his glasses with a handkerchief and settled them on his nose. ‘I’m afraid not. After he came back from your outing, he went straight to his room. I was a bit worried when he failed to show for group therapy. One of the attendants said Tim wasn’t feeling well. Curled up in his bed and running a slight fever.’ He examined her over the top of his glasses. ‘Did anything happen during your lunch?’
‘Nothing out of the ordinary.’ She struggled to find the right tone. ‘Though Tim was agitated as soon as we left the hospital. I noticed some obsessive-compulsive behaviour. Counting. A fixation with particular numbers.’
Harrison opened a drawer and took out a pen. ‘Tim does have an excessive attachment to his routines. Though that’s true of many of our patients. If he’s released, he’ll certainly require a great deal of support, and time, in establishing new ones.’
As he patted his pockets for the spectacles on his nose, she made a rapid decision. If absolutely necessary, she would admit to alluding to Tim’s hometown, but not her connection to it. That was a risk she couldn’t take. If he were to consider it a conflict of interest, he’d remove her from the case. And she couldn’t abandon Tim. Not now.
*
On the monitor in the observation room, Erin spotted Tim at his usual table, bent over the book of Sudoku. As far as she could see, her ill-considered allusion to Belle River had caused no lasting harm. But Harrison had yet to address the question of how Tim would cope with the facts of his past if he were to leave Greenlake to live with his father. Wouldn’t the daily contact with his only living family member provide enough reminders of Belle River, and the bloody crime he claimed not to remember?
She could feel Harrison’s breath on the back of her neck and shifted away. ‘We haven’t discussed this before, but do you have any concerns about Tim living with his father?’
Harrison’s attention was focused on the monitor. ‘A few.’ He cleared his throat. ‘It’s only natural, I suppose. Tim’s been my patient for nearly fifteen years, and what becomes of him will always be of interest to me. Strictly professional of course.’ He pressed a switch and the monitor went blank. ‘With regards to his father, though, I wouldn’t want to say anything that might prejudice your assessment.’
But he already had, she thought, by refusing to say anything at all. Clever man, sending such a clear shot across the bow. Would he prefer that Tim remain institutionalised for the rest of his life? For all she knew, Tim was Harrison’s pet observational project, with the ongoing case study all but written up. That was the vibe she was getting. But her concerns were valid. If she were to recommend Tim’s release, how would the two men, father and son, yet practically strangers, manage to live out their days together? By pretending they were just two ordinary people sharing a home? Each day ignoring the giant elephant in the room, that one of them happened to have killed the other man’s wife and daughters. It was beyond comprehension, and there still remained some missing pieces of the puzzle, including the nature of their relationship before the crime. Did father and son get along, or were their differences a daily source of friction?
She had a lot more digging to do.
16
The Meadows
Lansford, New York
March, Present Day
The clock ticked towards midnight as Erin scraped the dried remains of butterfly pasta and Parmesan cheese into the bin. Though sleepy, she was not yet ready for bed. Still to come were a hot bath and warming glass of brandy, her just reward for having survived a hectic day. The bath was where she did her best thinking, and along with everything else on her list, she needed to consider her next move with Tim.
In the draughty bedroom, she stepped out of her clothes and pulled on a robe, treading lightly on the chilly wooden floor in her bare feet. Lamplight glanced off a silver-framed photo on the nightstand. A slip of a girl, with a wide grin and windblown hair. Behind her lay the deep blue sea and empty sky, but for a trio of
