See No Evil

It was the woman he was with, not the act of sex, that made this moment so incredible.

It was as if Julia saw the realization cross his face, because at the same time he knew no woman could fill his heart like Julia, she rolled over, pulled him on top of her, and whispered, “Make love to me.”

He did. In and out, touching her, kissing her, never breaking eye contact. Her breath came in gasps, their hands entwined, and they were coming together, a long, languid release that left them satiated and complete.

Connor kissed Julia lightly, the same way she’d kissed him at the moment he realized there was something more between them than he’d accepted before.

He spooned her into his arms, held her close, vowing he’d find a way to keep her always with him, where she so obviously belonged.

TWENTY-NINE

Faye looked even worse than Emily had the morning after Victor’s murder. Dark circles framed her pale blue eyes. Her hair was limp, her skin even paler than usual.

They observed her through one-way glass. Faye was in the hospital’s locked psychiatric ward.

During her medical exam, the doctors discovered that Faye had been cut on her right arm. The wound had been sewed up with regular household thread, and Faye insisted she’d done it herself.

Dillon shook his head and said to Julia, Connor, and Will, “While it’s possible she dressed her own wound- she’s lefthanded-I highly doubt it.”

“She looks like she’s going through withdrawal,” Julia commented.

“Looks like it, but her tox screen came out clean. The reason I don’t think she sewed herself up is that she had Amytal in her system, a prescription barbiturate given to patients when they go in for surgery or to reduce pain and lower blood pressure. How would she know about that? And where would she get it?”

“You mean a doctor prescribed it?”

“It can be found on the streets, but these were within normal limits and she has no signs of long-term drug abuse. We ran through the drugs Bowen prescribed for her-none of which she filled-and it wasn’t on the list. But someone knew what it was for, or someone with access and knowledge gave it to her.”

“Isn’t Garrett Bowen’s son a psychiatrist as well?” Connor asked.

“He’s in med school, third or fourth year. I was thinking about him,” Dillon agreed. “And he had some interesting things to say about his father when he went to view the body at the morgue. He was upset, but something was odd.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Will said. “Connor, want to come along for the ride?”

Connor hesitated, glanced at Julia. She nodded. “Sure,” he said.

“I’m staying to observe,” Dillon said. “I’m still worried about Faye’s mental health.”

“Yeah, the poor darling,” said Connor. He squeezed Julia’s hand. “Be careful.” He left with Will.

Dillon said to Julia, “The only person Faye wants to hurt is herself. You asked about withdrawal? Let me show you something.” He opened the medical chart. Inside were photographs of Faye Kessler’s back, arms, and legs. A multitude of scars crisscrossed.

Julia paled. “Who did that to her?”

“Mostly, she did it to herself. Except on her back. But she won’t talk about that.”

“She cut her own body.”

Dillon nodded. “It’s increasingly common among young people today. Even adults. A way to feel in control, or to feel something when they feel nothing. I think Faye is going through withdrawal because she can’t cut herself. Watch her.” Dillon cautioned Julia. “I’m right out here, and if I think either one of you is in any danger, I’ll be through the door in two seconds.”

Because Faye refused to talk with any doctor, Dillon suggested Julia go in and develop a rapport with the young killer. There were still too many unanswered questions. Julia entered the hospital room.

Faye wasn’t restrained, but the room was bare, nothing accessible that she could use to kill herself.

Julia swallowed a tickle of worry that she was going to do something wrong with Faye. She couldn’t think that way. After all, the girl had killed in cold blood. She’d been messed up long before she came here, so how much damage could Julia do just by talking to her?

It didn’t seem plausible that three teenagers could plan and execute such an elaborate set of murders. Dillon was right: someone had directed Faye and the boys. Maybe it was a brainwashing technique-Faye killed her partners and confessed in order to deflect attention from the person who’d put the whole thing in motion.

“Hi, Faye,” said Julia.

“I know you. Are you prosecuting me?”

“How do you know me?”

“I saw you at the school, picking Emily up sometimes.”

Julia shivered. This killer, who looked so small and frail in her hospital gown, had been watching her. She shouldn’t be surprised. Faye had already told them she’d spoken to Emily at school, and knew what had happened with Victor Montgomery. In her own way, Faye was trying to protect Julia’s niece.

“When we were doing research,” Faye continued, “we learned all about you.”

“Research about what?”

“Killing the judge. We needed to know your schedule, Emily’s schedule, the judge’s schedule.”

“So why did you kill him when Emily was in the house?”

“She wasn’t inside when we killed him. We heard her come in after. I hid under his desk while Skip locked the door. In case Emily came to his office on her own. But she didn’t. When we were sure she was upstairs, we left.”

Faye shrugged. Didn’t take her eyes off Julia.

“Why did you jeopardize Emily? The police thought she was involved.”

“I was sorry about that,” Faye said, sounding contrite. “Emily was always nice to me. I didn’t want her to get in trouble. But she’s in the clear now, right? Is that why you’re here? You want me to say she had nothing to do with it? Okay. Emily had nothing to do with it.”

“That’s not why I’m here,” Julia said. “The police seem to think someone else is involved. Not just you, Skip, and Robbie.”

“They’re wrong,” insisted Faye. “It was only the three of us. Now they’re dead. Maybe I should have killed myself instead of coming here.”

“You don’t want to die,” Julia said. “If you wanted to die, you wouldn’t have sewn up your arm.” She pointed to Faye’s bandaged right arm.

Faye looked at her arm, lost in thought, her blue eyes both blank and searching. “I hadn’t thought of that,” she said, incredulous. “Do you believe in love?”

Julia was only momentarily thrown by the odd question. “Yes, I do.”

“Have you ever loved anyone? Not like your family, who you’re supposed to love even when you hate them. But someone you met because of fate, who you let inside your body and your mind and you told him everything and he still loved you?”

“Have you?” Julia asked without answering Faye’s question.

“Are you a shrink, too?” Faye’s face reddened. “Shrinks always answer questions with questions. Trying to be smarter.”

“I’m not a shrink. I’m an attorney. And Emily’s aunt. I care about Emily. I care about you, too, Faye.”

Faye laughed a low, sick cackle that twisted Julia’s stomach into knots. “You care about me? Do you know what I did to Victor Montgomery? I took pruning shears and while Robbie and Skip held him to his chair, I cut off his dick.” She moved her hands as if they were holding shears and made a chopping motion. “Sliced it right off. They were new and sharp and they did the job. I slammed it down hard, but you know the penis is really just muscle and flesh and blood. Kind of rubbery. He was hard. Still, I just sliced right through it.”

Julia swallowed her revulsion. “Are you saying Judge Montgomery’s penis was erect?”

Faye laughed. “Exactly.”