Split. Part 26

"What can I get you to drink? Soda? Wine?" Ann called from the kitchen.

"Just water, thanks," Makedde called back.

Ann walked back into the lounge a couple of minutes later with two tall gla.s.ses of mineral water. The gla.s.ses were frosty and the ice cubes clinked and fizzled as they moved. She placed Makedde's drink on a coaster on the side table and sat down in the adjacent easychair.

"So, how are you?"

"Fine. Thanks again for agreeing to see me. I think it really helped to get some of that stuff off my chest."

"It's my pleasure, it really is. Thanks for coming over." Her face turned serious. "Makedde, I am aware that this is an unconventional situation, but I wanted to ask you about something, and I felt it couldn't wait."

The unmistakable taste of dread settled on Makedde's tongue. She crossed her arms and felt a lump form in her throat.

"In our last session you mentioned that the man you've been going out with is named Roy Blake," Ann said.

Makedde's stomach tightened. "Yes."

Ann nodded. "Can you describe him for me? Physically?"

Makedde shifted on the couch. She didn't like where this was headed at all.

"Okay. He is, um...very tall. Six foot four or something like that." She reminded herself to breathe. For some reason it wasn't coming naturally. "He's a fairly good-looking guy. You know the actor, Vince Vaughn? Sort of like that." She stared off into s.p.a.ce as she spoke, picturing him. Reluctantly. "He has slightly curly brown hair and his eyes are brown," Makedde went on. "Clean-shaven. Maybe a few years older than I am-somewhere in his late twenties to early thirties I'd say. He works as a security guard at the university..."

Ann nodded to herself again and Makedde stopped her rambling description.

"Yes," Ann said softly, in a tone of both recognition and regret. "The name rang a bell with me when you mentioned him. You see, I worked with a patient by the name of Blake a few years back. I checked my files today to be absolutely sure that I had the name right." She paused. "Has Roy said anything to you about his brother?"

Then the phone rang, breaking the tension of the conversation.

Ann got up immediately.

"Please excuse me. I'm waiting for an important call."

She still looked pretty nervous. Mak found it odd to see her that way.

Ann went to the phone in her bedroom and closed the door behind her. She prayed that it was Roy.

"h.e.l.lo?" she said.

"h.e.l.lo, could I speak to Dr Morgan, please?"

"Speaking."

"This is Roy Blake-"

Thank G.o.d.

"Roy. h.e.l.lo. Thanks for calling me back..."

CHAPTER 41.

Roy sat in the trophy den, listening to Dr Morgan on the cabin's old rotary-dial telephone.

"I haven't heard your name for a while. The message said it was urgent."

"Well, I have been going through some old files and checking up on past patients, and I just wanted to know how Daniel is doing."

Roy looked at his watch. Odd that she should make such calls after-hours. "He's fine," Roy said bluntly, a little annoyed to be bothered this way. He'd had a rough day, and this wasn't helping.

"Where is he, exactly?"

Roy frowned. "Well, like I told you when I last saw you, Daniel has been staying out here in Squamish at the cabin. It all worked out even better than I had hoped, really. He's doing very well and he seems to really love it."

Roy looked around him at the animals Daniel had caught and stuffed. He'd become a pretty good hunter, and by far excelled Roy's own abilities now that he had the time to get out regularly.

"He's been very productive. Taken up taxidermy. I'm at the cabin right now, in fact. Daniel loves it here, I a.s.sure you. He's in the other room, doing just fine."

"He's not listening in, is he?"

"No."

"Good."

Roy felt increasingly uncomfortable. Just then, he heard a noise and Daniel walked in. He smiled at his brother and sat on the couch across from him.

"So, like I said, we have no need for your help at all. Thanks for calling anyway."

Roy didn't want his brother knowing that he was talking to a shrink about him. That'd only upset him. In fact, any memory of Ann Morgan would upset him. He had wanted to stay in therapy at first, until Roy told him what the doctors had planned for him. Drugs and inst.i.tutions, Roy was sure. He couldn't let that happen to his own brother.

He had to get her off the phone now.

Roy noticed that Daniel was looking intensely at the newspaper in Roy's hand-the one that had Ann's number scrawled on it.

"I have to go now," Roy said to Ann.

Daniel abruptly got up and walked out of the room. The moment he left, Roy resumed the conversation. "He's fine, honestly. He is very happy. He is very productive out here, and he's not causing anybody any trouble. I said he would be fine, and he is."

"Are you sure?" Ann prodded.

Roy didn't like the tone of her voice.

"Yes, I'm sure." He was starting to lose his patience now.

Daniel came back with a couple of gla.s.ses of beer.

"Is there anyone there with him? Does he have any supervision?"

"Well, no. Not really," he said vaguely.

He took the gla.s.s of beer from his brother and nodded a thank you to him. They clinked the gla.s.ses in the air, and Daniel went back to sit on the couch again. He picked up a magazine and started reading.

"So he is at the cabin without any supervision?"

Roy took a big sip of his beer. "There is no need," he said, purposely vague. "Look, I appreciate your concern, but everything is under control. Thanks for calling."

"Roy-" she began.

"Bye now." He hung up on her and shook his head.

He didn't like her meddling like that. No one had the right to meddle in their lives. She would have put Danny in a mental home if he hadn't put a stop to it. There was no doubt about that. And there was no way he was going to let her back into their lives again, after all this time when everything was just fine.

"Sorry about that, Danny." He took a long swig of his beer.

"That was Dr Morgan, wasn't it?"

"Excuse me?" Roy said, surprised. He gulped hard to avoid spitting up a mouthful of ale.

"That's who you were talking to, wasn't it?"

"No, just a vacuum-cleaner salesman," he a.s.sured him. "They tricked me into calling them back. Made me think it was something important. They can be so pushy, can't they?"

He really didn't want Daniel to know that Ann was snooping around.

Danny seemed to relax and he took another sip of his beer. Roy finished his in long gulps.

When they had downed their drinks, Daniel spoke again. "You're lying to me."

What?

"That was her. I know it was her. Her name is on the paper in your hand."

d.a.m.n, he saw it.

Roy was caught. He wasn't sure what to say now. He hadn't wanted to upset his brother. Their mom had always left that to him. He had to protect his brother because he was special. He was different.

"Ann thinks I did it."

"What?"

Daniel pointed to the paper. "And so do you."

The Nahatlatch Murders? Was he referring to the headline?

"Don't worry. I'll take care of it all, Roy. We won't have any trouble."

Roy wanted to ask him what he was talking about, he wanted to know if he was having another one of his episodes, but now words failed him. He didn't feel so well. He felt dizzy...sick. The sensation came on sudden and strong.

"Whaaa...?"

The room was spinning, the animals swirling around him, those gla.s.s-eyed trophies circling him. He felt incredibly, impossibly drunk.

Within fifteen minutes, Roy Blake was out cold.

CHAPTER 42.

"Hi, Andy, it's Bob."

"Hi. How's it going?"

Andy was still dripping from a shower, and he towelled his chest with one hand as he held the receiver.

"We have some progress on the murders," Dr Harris told him.

"Great."

The Evan Rose lead was at a bit of a standstill since the result of his polygraph, so they'd started on some new leads. The ViCLAS specialist hadn't found any strong links against other reports so they could do little more than hope the offender might do something wrong-reveal himself in some way.

"We ran a rego check on one of the vehicles spotted in the area, and we got a name. It piqued my interest because he works at UBC."

"Really?"

"Security guard."

"Oh, yeah." A percentage of those working in security had in fact been rejected from the police force, and on this basis they tended to treat any suspects with this occupation with special attention. While a bad cop could sometimes slip through the screening process, there were bound to be a lot more cowboys who made it into security-guys who simply wanted a taste of power.

"Bob had him on his attendance list at the psychopathy conference."

"Whoa. Now that is interesting."

"I was wondering if by some chance you'd met him. The name is Blake. Roy Blake. Unfortunately the name doesn't ring a bell with me."

Andy thought about the name. He hadn't met a lot of people at the conference. He had been too focused on Makedde.