Healed to death, p.16
Healed to Death, page 16
“Do you want to cancel it?” Zachary asked. “I understand if you don’t think you’re up to it this week. It hasn’t been the easiest day.”
“Actually… it’s probably a good idea for me to go today. I’ve spent the morning de-stressing, so I should be able to talk this afternoon about anything that is bothering me. Though I think… it’s already all out in the open.”
“That will happen when they announce it on the news!” Zachary contributed with a wry smile. “I think you’re handling it really well. But maybe I’m not catching your signals.”
Kenzie shrugged. “I don’t think I’m hiding anything about how I feel. I had a good talk with Mom this morning… and that helped. I haven’t actually done anything wrong.”
“All you’re doing is your job,” he agreed. “And I think you’re pretty darn good at that.”
“Well, thank you for that.” Kenzie shook her head. “Keep the appointment. It’s too late to cancel it anyway.”
“I could still go and do individual therapy if you didn’t want to do couple’s today.”
“True, but I’m okay with it.”
Kenzie hoped to bring up Zachary’s latest issues rather than her own. He was so jumpy and paranoid that she was on edge any time they were in the same room together. And should they be ambushed by a reporter, she worried what would happen.
It wasn’t like Zachary was the hard-hitting, gun-toting PI of TV. She never had to worry about violence from him. But she didn’t want him to have a meltdown on camera because he was so wound up with anxiety.
It wasn’t long before they headed out like usual to Dr. Boyle’s office for couple’s therapy. Or not like usual, because usually they arrived separately, Zachary from home, waiting on pins and needles, afraid Kenzie wasn’t going to show, and Kenzie from work, her mind filled with all of the job stuff and not quite ready for processing relationship issues. Instead, they arrived together, Kenzie focused, and Zachary… still jumpy and paranoid, but at least not worried that Kenzie would forget about the appointment and not show up.
After a brief wait in the waiting room, they were ushered into Dr. B’s office, where she was already sitting at her desk looking over her notes from their last session.
“Thanks for coming. I wasn’t sure whether everything would work out, based on… what’s been in the news.”
Kenzie made a motion to wave this away. “That’s just work stuff. It isn’t anything to worry about. I took a mental health day today, and it is bound to blow over in a day or two.”
The therapist jotted a note on the notepad in front of her. “I’m glad to hear that. So… you haven’t found it to be too stressful?”
“It was pretty overwhelming last night, but I’ve had a chance to process it and, if I just wait it out, I’m sure everything will be fine.”
“It won’t affect your work?”
“I didn’t do anything improper,” Kenzie said firmly. “Yes, my family’s foundation gives money to the mobile clinic and a lot of other causes in Vermont. The mobile clinic didn’t do anything wrong in treating Mr. Lane. There is no indication yet that he died of anything but natural causes. It’s just… a tempest in a teacup. A bunch of unrelated facts strung together to make it look like a conspiracy or something… when it isn’t. It will all fall apart when the facts are tested.”
“And it doesn’t bother you that people might think you were involved in something illegal or unethical?”
Kenzie set her jaw and shook her head. “People who know me will know that I wouldn’t do that. And people who don’t know me… what do I care about that? They’ll soon forget about it and go on to the next thing.”
“Well, I’m glad it hasn’t affected your work. That would be very disappointing. So this isn’t something that we need to discuss?”
Kenzie shook her head firmly. She looked at Zachary. “I don’t feel that it is. Are you ready to go on to other things?”
Zachary held her gaze for a moment and nodded. “I think she’s handling it really well. So far.”
Kenzie eyed him for the “so far,” but let it go. She looked back at Dr. B.
“Yeah, so I think we are okay to address other things.”
“When I heard the news, I was also concerned about how you must feel after dealing with this death. I realized that this is your job and you see dead bodies all the time, but this sounded like a particularly bloody and gruesome death scene, and… well, I was concerned about how you might be feeling after that. We don’t often talk about how police officers, doctors, and other service providers are affected by the trauma that they deal with in their jobs. Society is just coming around to the fact that first responders often have PTSD from dealing with the horrific things that they have to face on a day-to-day basis.”
“I don’t have PTSD,” Kenzie assured her.
“Why don’t you tell me about the case you are dealing with? If Zachary doesn’t mind me focusing on that for a few minutes and it isn’t triggering for him.”
Zachary shook his head. “We’ve already talked about it. I enjoy talking forensics with Kenzie, so we’ve already been over it.”
“It sounds like it was a particularly bad scene,” Dr. Boyle directed her attention back to Kenzie, meeting her gaze with a frank, sympathetic expression.
“Actually, they got it wrong. I wasn’t called to the scene of death. I was called to the dump site. There were no pools of blood. That was something I noted about the scene when I did the autopsy. There should have been a lot of blood, but there wasn’t.”
“Oh,” Dr. Boyle looked taken aback by this. “Well, that is good. Better for you, anyway.”
“That means,” Zachary said slowly, “whoever talked to that reporter was present when Jack Lane died. Doesn’t it? There isn’t any other way they would have found out that he was vomiting blood.”
“Not unless it came from the medical examiner’s office. We have had some information leaks in the past, so I suppose it is possible. But… my first guess would be that it was a witness. We know that somebody is talking because this isn’t the first time we’ve heard a first-person description of Mr. Lane’s death.”
“Then you know who it is.”
Kenzie looked at Zachary to see what he thought about it. “I don’t think Maria would have talked to a reporter, do you?” She addressed Dr. B. “She’s paranoid. She came to us because she had a connection to Zachary. I don’t think she would have otherwise.”
“A reporter might have been able to make a connection with her. That is something they do.”
Kenzie nodded slowly. “You’re right… but I think it must have come from someone other than Maria.”
“So there was more than one witness.”
“From what we understand of the way this guy works, this so-called Night Doctor, he gets together a group of people who need treatment. And then does them all at once. So there probably were a number of people who were gathered together and saw it, or some portion of it…”
“The Night Doctor?” Dr. Boyle repeated.
“Yeah, they kind of left that out of the news report completely, didn’t they? Acted like it was the mobile clinic that was responsible for Lane’s death. But the mobile clinic wasn’t the last one to treat him. The person who was treating him when he died was Evan—was a disgraced doctor who they call the Night Doctor. We think he is a doctor who was kicked out of the mobile clinic because of his mistakes. So that’s why he wants to make it look like the clinic is guilty of something.”
“That makes sense. And you think he made a mistake in this man’s treatment and that his death was the result of medical malpractice.”
Kenzie shook her head. “The lab results are not all back yet, but I don’t think there was anything anyone could have done to save him. But the Night Doctor doesn’t know what I think, because I haven’t talked to him.”
“Well, that is fascinating. It sounds like a very different story from what was reported.”
Kenzie nodded. “Exactly.”
“And you are finding it easier to deal with because you know they didn’t really have a clue as to what you had discovered and the events that took place.”
“I guess so, yeah. At first, I wanted to explain everything and get them to report my side of the story. But, of course, they’re not interested in the truth. Just in sensationalism. And that will pass. People will forget all about it when the next thing comes up.”
“That’s very wise. A good way to frame it.”
35
Kenzie smoothed her fingers along her pants. Without looking at Zachary, she voiced her own concern. “I’m actually doing okay. But I am worried about Zachary.”
Zachary shook his head. “I’m fine,” he said immediately.
Kenzie and Dr. B both smiled and shook their heads.
“Fine?” Dr. Boyle repeated.
They had agreed in previous sessions not to say that they were fine—or anything else that brushed off any concerns and pretended that everything was fine—when they were not. They would either attempt to describe their feelings and what was bothering them, or explain that they were not ready to talk about it yet.
Zachary blew out his breath. He looked around the doctor’s office, starting and stopping a few times before finding what he wanted to say.
“Kenzie thinks that I am being paranoid, but I am not. I am just being careful. Because there are real dangers. If there are really dangers, then it’s not paranoia. Just good judgment. Being concerned about something that is a real threat.”
“Okay,” Dr. Boyle nodded. “Why don’t you tell me about that, then? What is it you are worried about?”
“Like Kenzie said, there is this Night Doctor. Operating an unlicensed medical practice. Maybe he didn’t actually kill this guy, or maybe he did. But if he keeps it up, he will kill someone.” Zachary leaned forward. “And Maria—the person who saw Lane die—she said that they have been following her.”
“But what are the chances they actually are?” Kenzie demanded. “I saw her. She was being paranoid. Not calm and reasoned.”
“You wouldn’t be calm and reasoned if someone was following you, either,” Zachary pointed out.
Kenzie rolled her eyes. “Zachary, I’m telling you, she was paranoid. No one is following her, hoping she’ll have an accident they can blame on the Night Doctor.”
“We don’t know the reason, but if she says she was being followed, I am not going to discount it. How would you feel if I ignored something you were worried about?”
“That’s different. I’m your partner, and I don’t have a history of paranoia.”
“You don’t know that Maria has a history of paranoia.”
“Well…” Kenzie was taken aback. “She is homeless, which means odds are, she’s fighting some kind of mental illness. Schizophrenia is very high in the homeless population.”
“But you don’t know her history. Just what we heard when she spoke at the gala.”
Kenzie was embarrassed to admit that she couldn’t remember anything Maria had said about her challenges on the street when she had spoken at the gala. She cleared her throat and scratched the back of her neck. “I, uh, don’t remember much of what she said at the gala. Did she include anything about her medical history?”
Zachary considered. “She has asthma, which is why she lost her last job. She couldn’t keep up anymore and barely had any energy because she wasn’t breathing properly. And she had arthritis. Hard to get up in the morning. Some days, she couldn’t get out of bed at all. Lost her job, her apartment. The shelters gave her trouble because she took too long to get moving in the morning. You have to get up early in those places.”
Kenzie found it hard to believe that someone wouldn’t be able to go to a homeless shelter just because they had trouble getting mobile in the morning. But she knew that they tended to have many rules to keep everyone in line. If they didn’t, it would be chaos.
But Zachary had not mentioned anything to do with mental health or addiction. Maria had not been drinking at the meal she had shared with them. Nor did she smell like alcohol or have a flask that was obvious. Most of the homeless drunks Kenzie had occasion to meet had carried quite an odor.
“She didn’t say anything about depression? Any other mental health challenges?”
“No.”
But that didn’t mean anything. Mental health challenges were very common among the homeless. But people kept those details to themselves. Maria would not necessarily have disclosed any mental illness.
“Well… all I can say is that what I saw wasn’t normal. It wasn’t just a woman who was nervous someone might be following her. She was over the top. Paranoid.”
Zachary folded his arms. “You’re not a psychiatrist.”
“No. I know that.”
“You can’t tell just by looking at someone that they are paranoid rather than anxious about a real threat. You only saw Maria for an hour or two.”
“But this isn’t really a discussion about whether or not Maria was paranoid,” Dr. B broke in. “The question is about your mental health, Zachary. Kenzie is worried about your level of anxiety and the belief that you are being followed.”
“I don’t know for sure,” Zachary admitted. “I’m just being careful. Keeping my eyes open.”
“Do you have more specific concerns, Kenzie?” Dr. Boyle asked. “A particular behavior or incident that has you concerned?”
Kenzie tried to sort it out in her mind. “He’s hypervigilant. He is anxious all the time, watching out the window for anyone who might be targeting us. It doesn’t matter where we are or what we’re doing. He’s always watching—expecting to be attacked.”
The therapist turned her attention to Zachary, looking serious. “It sounds like this is affecting your quality of life. And affecting Kenzie’s.”
“I need to keep us safe.”
“You have a security system at home. You can’t trust that to keep you safe?”
“It helps, but no system is invulnerable. We’ve had other attacks even with the system in place. It helps, and the security company is really quick to respond if something happens, but it doesn’t replace being vigilant.”
“Do you think maybe you are being too vigilant? Should we increase your antianxiety pills a little and see if that helps?”
Zachary shook his head immediately. “I don’t want to change anything in this cocktail. It’s working better than anything else in years.”
“We don’t have to swap anything else; just see if increasing the dosage helps.”
“No. Too much of an antianxiety med can have a paradoxical reaction. I could end up being more anxious instead of less. It should be kept at the lowest level possible.”
Dr. B gave a little shrug, conceding that Zachary was correct and that he was the best judge of whether he needed an increase right now or not. They had pushed him in the past. Kenzie had been sure he was seeing danger where there wasn’t any. Until it turned out that someone had planted a bomb in his car or delivered one to the house. Now, using an explosive sniffer before opening any packages they received seemed normal and reasonable rather than paranoid.
“How are you sleeping, Zachary?” the therapist asked.
“About the same as usual.”
Dr. Boyle studied Zachary’s face and then looked at Kenzie. “What do you think? About the same? Has there been any significant change in sleep?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“And the depression?” She persisted, looking back at Zachary.
“Good,” he assured her.
Which didn’t mean that he didn’t have any depression, but merely that it was at a functional level and he wasn’t being bothered by intrusive or suicidal thoughts.
Again, Dr. Boyle gave Kenzie the opportunity to express a dissenting opinion, but she didn’t. She just shrugged.
“I wasn’t concerned about depression or sleep, just paranoia. Anxiety. The hypervigilance that is eating him up and setting me on edge.”
“Can you tolerate it for a while longer and see if it settles down on its own? It may be that it will fade naturally when nothing happens.”
Kenzie sighed. “Fine. Just don’t expect me to buy into it,” she told Zachary. “I’m not going to placate you. I’m going to push back if I think you’re being too paranoid.”
Zachary surprised her by smiling instead of getting angry about her stubbornness. “Good. I don’t like to be humored.”
Kenzie nodded. “I won’t, then. I’m going to be upfront about it.”
36
The weather was perfect, and Kenzie didn’t want to waste it by going home and staring at computer screens for the rest of the day. They usually had ice cream after couple’s therapy, a positive reinforcer they looked forward to. It was a fun tradition, and even better on such a beautiful, clear spring day than on a cold, dark one. They stopped at the Fro-Zone to pick out their favorite flavors, and then went for a slow walk around the park with their cones, watching the mothers pushing young children in strollers, the teens skipping school, and the occasional businessperson or couple. Not everyone worked bankers’ hours and were closeted in their dreary offices.
Not that Kenzie usually thought of her office as dreary. She enjoyed working at the medical examiner’s office; the morgue and the bodies did not get her down. But it was a nice change to be out in the sunshine and fresh air for once.
Zachary grasped Kenzie’s arm suddenly, pulling her abruptly off the path and onto the mown grass, sheltering partially hidden behind a tree. Kenzie looked at him in shock and opened her mouth to remind him that she wouldn’t let him act paranoid without pushing back about it. He adjusted her gaze, directing her with his eyes and a nod toward a figure walking toward them. A black woman with cornrows wheeling a bike.
Kenzie recognized the woman an instant later. They had, after all, just been talking about her.
