Page 6 of Black Hearts

3

Alex

It wasa little after two in the afternoon. Nineteen hours since I lost Celeste. I was parked outside her therapist’s house in Shadyside, waiting for her to return home. I’d tried to get to her earlier, but apparently she’d been at some conference in New York, and she wasn’t due back till this afternoon.

I hated waiting so long for her, but at the same time, I was grateful she was returning today and not sometime later in the week, or worse, next week.

Ten minutes later, I saw an Uber drop Dr. Fitzgibbons off, and I watched as she stepped up to her door and let herself in.

I waited a few more minutes so that it wouldn’t seem as if I’d been sitting outside waiting for her like a crazed stalker. Then I walked up to her door and knocked.

On the outside, I was calm and focused. On the inside, my guts were knotted with a mixture of feverish fear and roaring rage.

She answered the door on my third knock. Judging by the lines around her eyes and lips, I put her age at somewhere in the early forties. She was clad in expensive-looking gray pants, a long black wraparound coat, and a matching black and gray scarf. As for me, I’d lost the blond wig and contacts for now, because I wanted her to recognize me.

“Can I help you?” she asked, tilting her head to the side. I could tell that I was familiar to her, but she couldn’t quite place me.

I affected a genial smile, turning on the charm at full force. “Hi, Dr. Fitzgibbons. I’m Alex Magnusson. We’ve never officially met, but we both work at Morrison Wright. I think we’ve seen each other around on occasion.”

Her face fell with relief as she realized I wasn’t here to try and sign her up to something or sell a product to her. “Oh, of course. I was wondering why you looked a bit familiar.”

“I’m so sorry to bother you at home like this, but I was wondering if you had time to discuss a patient of mine. I’m concerned about some… delicate psychological issues, and time is of the essence. I looked into it, and I think she used to see you.”

She smiled. “I was just about to make some coffee. Come in and we’ll talk.”

“Thanks so much.”

I followed her inside and waited while she busied herself in the kitchen. She returned with a pot of coffee and two mugs and set them down on a coffee table in her lounge room. “Take a seat,” she said, waving at one of two black leather sofas. “I’ll just get some cream.”

I remained standing.

“Horrible weather we’re having, isn’t it?” she called out from the kitchen, trying to make small talk.

I rolled my eyes. “Sure is. Hasn’t stopped raining for two days now. But it’s nearly winter. What do we expect, really?” I said, returning the civil gesture. Had to keep up appearances for at least a few more seconds.

She laughed. “That’s true. Anyway, who is the patient you’ve been seeing?” she said as she came out of the kitchen with a small white ceramic jug in one hand.

“Well, she’s not so much of a patient… more like someone I love and care about very deeply. You see, she was taken from me two days ago.”

Two lines appeared between her eyebrows, but she kept smiling, albeit in a confused, overly-polite manner. “I don’t understand.”

“Her name is Celeste Riley.”

Her smile faltered, and she dropped the jug. It shattered on the polished floorboards, and cream sprayed all over the floor and up the side of the sofa she was standing beside. “Oh. I… I’m sorry. I’m so clumsy. Let me just… I’ll go get something to clean it up.”

“Stay. I’ll have black coffee.”

Her eyes darted nervously to the door. “No, I should clean up this mess. It’ll only take a minute.”

I steeled my jaw and pulled out my pistol. “I said we’ll have our coffee black.”

She began to tremble immediately and held her hands up, palms facing me. “What is this?” she whispered.

“Celeste was your patient, wasn’t she?”

She gulped, then nodded. “Yes, but she went missing. I spoke to the FBI about it. I swear, I don’t know anything.”

My face twisted into a grimace. “Something tells me that’s not true. Take your coat off.”

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