“Ah, I was wondering when you would join us.” Culvert didn’t move from his stance in front of the fireplace. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“I didn’t come here for coffee.” Dr. Devins darted his gaze around the room, his eyes bouncing off Priscilla’s face without making eye contact. A sheen of sweat covered his forehead despite the chill in the air.
Culvert shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
“I’m not alone,” Dr. Devins blurted out. “The FBI—”
“Say no more.” Culvert smiled, the expression scooting Priscilla closer to Luc. “Let’s invite them in.”
Dr. Devins hesitated.
Culvert removed his hand from the gun. “Does your wife know you’re here?”
“She’s still unconscious.” Dr. Devins wiped his forehead on the sleeve of his jacket. The psychiatrist took a step toward Culvert. “Your little stunt in the parking lot nearly killed her!”
“That’s too bad.” Culvert’s casual tone seemed at odds with his coiled readiness. “That would have been inconvenient, but not too surprising, given her extracurricular activities of late.”
“Inconvenient?” Dr. Devins knotted his fists. “Don’t you mean convenient for you?”
Luc squeezed her hand, and Priscilla glanced up at him. He dipped his head toward the back door. He wanted them to make a run for it while the other men were focused on each other. She gave a tiny nod that she understood. They stood close to the table, which was about five feet or so away from the back door. To have a real chance, they would need to inch their way back until they were within striking distance of the door.
Culvert shook his head. “No, her dying would be most inconvenient. If she dies, then who will corroborate my story of a rogue US marshal attempting to kill a witness and pin the blame on me?”
Dr. Devins relaxed his fists. “This has gotten out of hand. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”
“You weren’t complaining when the money rolled in.” Culvert’s voice had a sarcastic tone. “You were more than happy to do your part, as long as you got paid.”
“It wasn’t enough compensation, not for the risk.”
Priscilla and Luc took a step backward when Culvert’s attention was fixed on Dr. Devins, who had yet to acknowledge their presence in the room.
Culvert barked out a laugh. “Sure it was. It was plenty of money. If you had invested it wisely, you’d have had a nice little nest egg now, enough to retire to the country of your choosing. Instead, your wife gambled it—and more—away in online poker games.” Culvert snorted. “What I want to know is why you didn’t simply hypnotize your wife to stop her from gambling.”
Priscilla froze. Laura had an online addiction to poker? How did she keep it a secret from the US marshals?
“She was making progress. Then you had to get yourself captured.” Dr. Devins began to pace. “She heard rumors that you wanted to make a deal with the US Attorney’s Office. She couldn’t let that happen, but you were being kept in a secured facility.”
Luc tugged Priscilla back another step.
Dr. Devins pivoted and pointed a finger at Priscilla. “Mac wanted me to hypnotize you. That’s when it all started to fall apart.”
“Why would that matter?” Priscilla understood Laura’s motivation to keep her gambling and association with Culvert a secret, but what did her memories have to do with Dr. Devins? And then she got it. Why she couldn’t remember much of Luc, why she recalled only bits and pieces of the actual shooting, why she felt she’d known Dr. Devins before their first session. “You were there, outside the kitchen that night. You were at the Last Chance Casino.”
Dr. Devins thinned his lips.
Priscilla took a step toward them, thoughts of escape out the back door fading as more pieces to the puzzle clicked into place. “You hypnotized me there, at the casino. That’s why I can’t remember that night. You blocked my memories.”
“You were supposed to forget the shooting, not the stuff that happened before that,” Dr. Devins snapped. “I was rushed during my hypnosis of you, and that’s why it didn’t work as planned.”