Page 157 of Power of the Mind

“Hilty’s paying. He owes me.”

Tallus tipped his head to the side in a manner that meant I should elaborate. “I convinced Doyle to keep Hilty’s name off the books. He wanted to question him about the little hostage fiasco in my office where he took you at knifepoint, but I made him swear not to. He was told to stick strictly to questions regarding his receptionist and ex.”

Tallus touched his neck where the cuts had long healed. “And Doyle was okay with that?”

“No, but he agreed. In exchange, that asshole Hilty is paying for your fucking glasses.”

“Fair enough. Does that mean you’ve talked to Doyle?”

“Yeah.”

Tallus huffed and planted his hands on his hips. “Wow. That shit hasn’t said a word to me. This wasmycase. Does he know that?”

I pressed my lips together and gestured to the door. “We’ll talk over dinner.”

Tallus’s animosity melted away and was replaced by a soft smile. “Sounds good. Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see.”

I’d spent all day researching decent restaurants and choosing something I hoped Tallus would like. Getting a reservation on short notice on a Friday night was tricky, but I’d managed. It was a quiet, romantic spot near Pearson, highly recommendedby the guy who’d sold me the shirt. Dim lighting, soft music, and private tables interspersed with plants and other decorations.

Our waiter showed us to a corner table and listed the specials. Tallus asked for a bottle of wine, and I went along with it, even though wine wasn’t my preference.

We chose our meals, and once the waiter had poured two glasses of red and wandered off, Tallus asked about the case. I knew it would be the focal point of the evening, so I figured I’d get it out of the way before presenting theotherthing.

“Brodie Newall cracked in his interview. The minute he understood he was looking at eleven potential counts of manslaughter, he unraveled. He’s been dealing drugs since high school. Money was tight at home. His mother found out, but instead of reprimanding him, she made him a deal. He split his profits, and she would let him live at home for free and not report him to the cops.”

“Wow. She’s a winner.”

“Yeah. Brodie said his mother was always looking for ways to earn fast cash. She lived beyond her means and was constantly in financial trouble.”

Tallus’s fingers twitched, and he reached for his glass of wine, downing a hefty gulp. I had a feeling he commiserated with Sally Soape Opera but was too proud to admit it.

“Sally, or Sandra, has been helping field dejected clients to Rowena for years. People don’t always take to hypnotism or Hilty’s methods, and she underhandedly contacted these people after they left and suggested another option. Rowena paid her to bring in business. In fact, it was Rowena’s idea for Sally to apply at Hilty’s office.

“About a year and a half ago, Brodie got introduced to kratom and was doing a decent business with high schoolers. Sally must have mentioned it to Rowena, and Rowena, having done her own research, made a proposition. She believed it would helpwith client retention. The longer she could convince someone to seektherapy”—I added air quotes—“the more money she made. These people were in a lot of pain, and kratom would help alleviate it. And so it began. When Sally plucked files from Hilty’s discards, she not only suggested Rowena as an alternative, but she roped Brodie into giving up some product, and Rowena offered it as part of a free trial package. Once they were hooked, it meant more business for the psychic and cash in Brodie and Sally’s pockets. Not all took to it, but many did.”

“And they didn’t consider that most of Hilty’s clients were on several prescriptions already that kratom would alter how their drugs worked?”

“Exactly.”

“So Brodie was a pawn.”

I shrugged. “He was still dealing. Stole generic bottles and empty capsules from Janek’s store, printed his own labels, and sold them on the street to his friends. I’d say he’s just as accountable, but it’s not my call.”

“Wow. So the people in the files who didn’t die?”

“Either didn’t fall for the ruse and never continued taking it, or they weren’t as affected by the mixing of drugs.”

“That’s crazy.”

“Rowena’s license has been temporarily suspended while they investigate. Not sure what happens from here, but Doyle will figure it out.” I shrugged and swished the wine around the glass before setting it down without drinking it.

“You don’t like wine, do you?”

“It’s fine.” What I didn’t want was to be drinking at all.

Our meals arrived, and we chatted about the case as we ate, but even that died down after a while. Silence prevailed, and I didn’t know how to fill it. The incompetence I’d worried about surfaced. I was failing.

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