Page 108 of Over the Edge

But the best cure for insomnia?

An end to the police investigation.

So if tonight’s incident didn’t convince the police Lindsey was crazy, there was only one step left to take.

Together, they had to make sure Lindsey stopped remembering.

Permanently.

Whether he liked it or not.

Twenty-Three

“ARE YOU SURE YOU’RE ALL RIGHT,Dr. Oliver?” Lindsey frowned at the therapist as their session wound down. “You’re flushed again.”

He offered her a strained smile. “Much as I hate to admit it, I’ve been feeling progressively worse this afternoon. In hindsight, I should have cut the day short. But I don’t like to let clients down.”

“People would understand if you got sick. There’s a nasty flu bug going around.”

“It doesn’t feel quite like the flu or I wouldn’t have continued to see clients all day. Maybe it was something I ate. If I’m still under the weather tomorrow, though, I’ll have to reschedule my Friday clients. Fortunately, you’re my last appointment of the day. After this, I plan to go home and crash.”

“Why don’t we cut our session short? In case you do happen to be coming down with the flu, I should keep my distance.” Because if she didn’t cook, her income flow would dry up. There was no paid sick leave for personal chefs—one of the downsides of working for yourself. A bout with the flu would deplete her bank balance and disappoint the clients who counted on her.

“If you don’t mind, I think that would be advisable for both our sakes. I’ll alert Margie about our shortened session so she can adjust your bill.”

Lindsey waved that aside. “I’m not worried about a few dollars after all the nights you’ve stayed late to see me over the past few weeks.”

“No. Fair is fair. If I don’t give a full hour, I don’t charge for a full hour. Is there anything else we should talk about before we both call it a day?” He closed his notebook.

“I don’t think so. I’m just glad whoever moved my car last night made a mistake. It proves to me—and the police—that the other incidents were real too. I can’t tell you what a huge relief that is.”

“I’m sure it is. I know how worried you were that all the trauma had taken a serious mental toll.” He pulled out his handkerchief and mopped his brow. “And now, it’s time for this doctor to heal himself. I think my temperature is spiking.”

Lindsey picked up her purse and stood. “I’ll let myself out. Take care of yourself.”

He rose too, much more slowly. As if pushing himself to his feet took supreme effort. “I’ll try.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?” While he never talked about his personal life, from the few comments Margie had made, he didn’t have much, if any, family. And an ex-wife wasn’t likely to be waiting in the wings to run emergency errands in case of illness.

“No, thank you. I’ll be fine. Nothing a few aspirin, plenty of liquids, and rest won’t cure.”

“Well, my offer stands if you change your mind.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll see you next week.” She left the office, crossed to the door, and exited into the hall.

As she headed toward the main entrance of the professionalbuilding, she turned her phone back on and scrolled through messages.

No voicemails, but there was a text from Jack.

Sorry, but I have to cancel on the cheesecake tonight. Got pulled into a double homicide. Will be working very late. Rain check until tomorrow? Also, none of the nearby residents saw any suspicious activity around your car. DNA came back too. No match in databases. Still handy to have when we round up a suspect. Talk to you soon.

When, not if. At least he was staying optimistic.

But as she bundled up to brave the winter chill outside, her spirits drooped.

Wherever the killer was on this cold, inhospitable evening, they were probably gloating that despite the evidence they’d left on her car last night, and despite the fact that her credibility had been restored, the police were as baffled as ever about who’d murdered James Robertson. Neither of the clues she’d remembered had led anywhere, and without a match in the databases, last night’s blood sample wasn’t much use—which the killer no doubt knew when they bled on her car.

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