Page 86 of Over the Edge

“Such as?”

Jack shook out his napkin. Draped it across his lap.

How much could he say without giving away secrets he’d never shared with anyone? Not Mom or Dad. Not his sisters. Not the counselors who’d tried to help him after he entered the foster program.

But his background was a big stumbling block with Lindsey, so he’d have to touch on it without going into detail.

“There was an incident Sunday.” He gave Bri a quick recap of the report Lindsey had called in, as well as the other strange situations she’d encountered and the tense standoff she’d been pulled into in South Carolina.

His sister exhaled as he finished. “Wow.”

A gross understatement that didn’t come anywhere close to capturing his feelings.

“It’s a boatload to deal with. For her and for me.”

Twin grooves appeared in Bri’s forehead. “So let me clarify. The incident in South Carolina happened. That’s documented. The murder happened. There’s a body. But there’s nothing to support her claims about the car or lake or stabbing, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Huh.” She focused on a spot over his shoulder, her brain clearly working overtime. “I think I see the problem. You like her, but you’re worried she’s having a mental breakdown.”

“Or worse.”

“What could be worse?”

He shrugged. “She could have psychological issues, period. Maybe long-standing in nature, which have been exacerbated by recent events.”

“Does she come across as unstable?”

“No. But everything that’s happened has thrown her for a loop. I think she’s beginning to question her grasp of reality.”

Bri snorted. “Who wouldn’t, if they’d gone through everything you described? Has she gotten any professional help to deal with all that?”

“Yes. Here and in South Carolina.”

“That’s a positive sign. It means she recognizes she’s in over her head.”

“The thing is ... what if she does have ongoing issues—and always will?”

Bri tapped her two index fingers together. “You’re thinking of your birth mom, aren’t you?”

He tried not to let his shock show. “Why would you ask that?”

“Come on, Jack. We grew up in the same house. Even though you never talked much about her, and Mom and Dad were close-mouthed, I could read between the lines. I don’tknow what she did to you, but I always assumed it was bad. And I also got the sense it was way outside the realm of normal child abuse—if the terms normal and child abuse can be used in the same sentence. That she may have had psychological issues.”

Good luck to any arsonist who tried to put one over on his smart, perceptive sister.

“She did.” And he wasn’t going to offer any details about them. Now or ever. “That’s not a place I want to visit again.”

“It’s also problematic for your case, isn’t it? I mean, if your witness is unreliable, anything she remembers about the killer will have to be taken with a grain of salt, right?”

“Yes.”

“A double whammy.” She leaned back. Folded her arms. Pursed her lips. “Have you considered talking to her therapist? With her permission, of course. Just to get a better read on her mental state?”

“She offered that.”

“Take her up on it. An unbiased professional opinion may help you get a handle on whether her issues are trauma-induced or longer-term in nature.”

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