‘No,’ said Carter. ‘There won’t be a next time. There can’t be, I’m afraid. I can’t escape him.’ He looked at her with tears in his eyes. ‘I thought I could. Start again, you know. But I see now that was never an option. You, though? You can escape. You can still get away. Reinvent yourself. Start again.’
‘I’m not going anywhere, Carter,’ said Nikki firmly.
‘I hope you change your mind,’ he said, shaking her hand with real feeling. ‘Good luck, Dr Roberts. And goodbye.’
Nikki watched him limp out of her office, a strange feeling lodged in her chest. She’d helped him today, more than in all their past sessions combined. That much was clear. Like a doctor lancing an infected boil, it had been painful, but emptying his subconscious mind had brought Carter Berkeley instant and visible relief.
Now whether the story he’d told her was true or not was another matter. The girl might be a real girl. Or an imagined one, representing some aspect of Carter’s own personality, or some figure from his past.
It wasn’t the story itself, but Carter’s last words to Nikki that pressed down heavily on her heart. ‘You can still get away. Reinvent yourself. Start again.’
Could she?
It was certainly an intoxicating thought.
Anne Bateman had called not long ago to cancel their midday session. At the time Nikki
had felt disappointed, but now she was relieved to be alone and done for the day. Leaning back in her chair she felt dizzy all of a sudden and realized she hadn’t eaten or drunk anything since breakfast.
As she was scrabbling about in her desk drawer for a protein bar, her cell phone rang. Nikki was about to ignore it, but then saw Derek Williams’ name pop up on her screen.
‘Any news?’ she asked anxiously.
‘I do have news,’ he responded, sounding surprisingly downbeat. ‘Where are you right now? Can you come to my office?’
‘I can,’ Nikki answered cautiously. ‘I’m in Century City. But can’t you tell me over the phone?’
Williams hesitated. ‘I’d rather we met. How about in an hour?’
‘OK,’ said Nikki, her pulse already starting to quicken.
He had news. News too important to tell her over the phone. To her own shame, Nikki found herself praying that it wasn’t about the murders at all, but about the mysterious Lenka.
Please let him have found something, she entreated the God she didn’t believe in.
Please, after all this time, let me find some peace.
Before she could even think about taking Carter Berkeley’s advice and starting again, she needed to know the truth.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
‘Please, please, sit down.’
The fat PI made a sweeping, welcome gesture with one arm, while with the other he literally swept piles of old papers off of his fake leather ‘client’ seat.
‘How’s your day been so far, Dr Roberts?’ he asked Nikki cheerfully. After his reticence on the phone earlier, he seemed in a surprisingly ebullient mood.
‘My day? It’s been exhausting, actually,’ Nikki answered truthfully, running a hand through her hair. ‘Two of my clients seem to have totally lost the plot.’ She didn’t know why, but something about Derek Williams made her feel safe, willing to let her guard down in a way she wouldn’t with other people. Certainly not other men. It struck her now that perhaps it was because he didn’t flirt with her. At all. In Nikki’s experience, that was pretty unusual.
‘Only two? I’d call that lucky,’ he quipped, rearranging things so that his own seat and desk were relatively clear before they got started. ‘Pretty much all of my clients have lost the plot. Most of them a very long time ago. Present company excepted, naturally.’
He smiled again and Nikki couldn’t help but smile back.
‘So what’s this news?’ she asked him eagerly. ‘Please tell me it’s about my husband’s mistress.’
Williams spread his fingers wide over his chubby thighs and turned his empty palms over.
‘It is not,’ he informed her. ‘Sorry.’