Page 87 of The Killing Plains

“Just Jolene. I told her where to find it in case I ever got arrested.”

A shrill ring interrupted the conversation. Colly pulled out her phone and checked caller ID. “Hey, Russ. Any news?”

From two counties away, she heard him exhale heavily. His voice was flat and weary. “Jolene didn’t make it. I’m heading home.”

Chapter 23

It was nearly five-thirty when Colly arrived at the Compass Counseling Center to pick up Satchel. She’d been reluctant to leave Avery on her own to manage Jace Hoyer. His reaction to the news of his wife’s death had been unsettling. He’d grown very quiet, dropping his head and staring down at his hands for the rest of the drive. By the time they reached the police station, he had sunk into a torpor so profound that they needed the help of two patrolmen to get him out of the squad car. Colly had insisted on calling a doctor. It wasn’t until Jace had been evaluated, booked, and given a sedative that she felt comfortable leaving.

She rehearsed an effusive apology as she trotted up the sidewalk and through the empty waiting room, but she had no need to use it. She found Brenda at her office desk working on her laptop, while Satchel played with a pile of toys next to a large dollhouse on the floor. When Colly entered the room, they both looked up. Satchel waved distractedly and resumed playing.

Brenda pushed away from the desk. “There you are.” Her voice was cheerful. She showed no sign of annoyance or fatigue.

“What a day.” Colly collapsed into an armchair. “I owe you, big-time, Bren.”

Brenda smiled sympathetically. “How’s Jolene? Carmen said they were taking her to Abilene.”

“She died a couple hours ago. Carmen was with her. I just notified Jace.”

“Oh, no. He fell to pieces, I imagine.”

Colly was startled. “How’d you guess?”

“Sometimes the abusive ones are the most fragile. They bluster, but they don’t have much ego-structure of their own.”

Colly wondered whether Brenda was thinking of Jace or of Lowell. Did she know about the embezzlement? Had it been the last straw that ended the marriage? Colly needed to find out, but now wasn’t the time.

She leaned forward and tousled Satchel’s hair. “What are you playing, buddy?”

Satchel hunched his shoulders without looking up. He had arranged two action figures—an Iron Man and a Wonder Woman—on the sofa in the dollhouse living room, and was moving a plastic grizzly bear stealthily through the kitchen towards them, growling menacingly through his teeth.

Colly felt suddenly cold. “Is he okay?” she mouthed to Brenda.

Brenda nodded and stood. “It’s almost time to put up the toys, Satchel. You can have five more minutes while I talk to Grandma.”

She led Colly across the hall into a breakroom. “Those are therapy toys I use to assess trauma in young kids. I wasn’t trying to diagnose him or anything. He was bored, and I thought he’d enjoy playing with them.”

“But did you see? I think he’s reenacting—”

Brenda held a finger to her lips and pulled the breakroom door nearly closed. “It’s okay, it’s normal.”

“He’s using abear.”

“They all gravitate to that bear—the ones who’ve gone through major trauma, I mean. That’s why I have it. It’s a way for kids to express adult behavior that’s too monstrous for them to process.”

“I thought he’d worked through all that. He’s seemed so much better lately.”

“Trauma recovery’s never a linear thing.” Brenda’s brow furrowed. “But I don’t mind telling you—I am a little concerned. I think he’s struggling more than we realized.”

Colly sighed. “Is it because I’m working a case? Or is it more than that?”

“I don’t know. Like I said yesterday, I’d be happy to do a couple sessions with him.”

Colly chewed her lip. “I’d hate to confuse him, Bren. He’s used to the Houston therapist.”

“I get it. But if you change your mind, let me know.”

They returned to Brenda’s office, where she wheeled an enormous suitcase out of the closet and laid it on the floor by the dollhouse.

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