“You said the reason you want these sessions is that you want me to help you.”

“Right, but I’ve been coming to you for a long time, and we all agree you haven’t helped me that much. Maybe it’s better to do things my way. Talk about what I want to talk about for a change.”

“Look—”

“And this is what I want to talk about. You get me, Doc?”

“…”

“Doc?”

“Fine. Go ahead. Tell me your ‘fantasy.’”

“Don’t get so worried. It’s nothing too crazy. I just have this fantasy that I’m sitting at the craps table at Foxwoods, and this insanely hot woman sits down next to me.”

“Okay…”

“She doesn’t say one word, doesn’t even tell me her name. She just slides a drink in my direction, and that’s how I know she wants me. And then she comes up to my room and we go at it all night long, like animals. And when it’s over, she leaves and I never see her ever again.”

“That’s beautiful.”

“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, Doc. I’m pouring out my heart to you. You could show a little, you know, empathy. Don’t they teach you that in shrink school?”

“I simply don’t think these sessions are productive. As I said, I would be happy to refer you to one of my excellent colleagues. I would cover the cost of the sessions.”

“No. We’re not going to do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want you.”

Chapter 22

TRICIA

Present Day

The recording comes to a stop and the tape recorder clicks, turning off automatically. Based on this recording, it sounds like EJ was forcing Dr. Hale to continue doing therapy sessions with him. Maybe he was blackmailing her.

Except what was he using to blackmail her?

I’m not sure I can listen to any more EJ sessions. There’s something about the sound of his voice that makes my skin crawl. You can tell just from listening to him that he’s not a good person.

He’s evil.

“Tricia?”

I nearly jump out of my skin at the sound of rapping on the door to the office. I just barely have time to shove the tape recorder into the top drawer of the desk before the door swings open. It’s driving me crazy that this house doesn’t have any locks.

“Tricia?” Ethan is standing at the door, the bottom of his jeans slightly damp from the snow even though he was wearing boots. “What are you doing in here?”

I pick up a pen that was lying on the desk and tap it purposefully against the shiny wooden surface. “I decided since there isn’t much to do, I would work on my résumé a little.”