Page 45 of The Writer

Operator: I’ve got officers en route. Is your husband responsive?

Morrow: Responsive?

Operator: Awake? Breathing?

Morrow: I think they’re still here!

Operator: If you feel you’re in danger, you should exit the apartment immediately and wait in the lobby or on the street for officers to arrive.

Morrow: No! I can’t leave my husband.

Operator: Is he responsive?

Morrow: I have a gun. I can’t leave him.

Operator: Ma’am, if you’re in danger, you need to get out.

Morrow: [Sudden intake of breath.] Detective Declan Shaw.

Operator: Excuse me?

Morrow: Declan Shaw! Detective Declan Shaw!

The three of them are silent for a beat, then Barbara Leyland says, “The police say you asked for Detective Shaw.”

Hoffman says, “Does it sound like she’s asking for him to you, Barbara?”

“It doesn’t,” the reporter says. “She sounds… afraid.”

Hoffman nods. “At this point, my client was fully under the influence of PTA. Incapable of proper communication. She was trying to tell them Declan Shaw was in her apartment, had killed her husband, but she couldn’t get those specific words out. The best she could do was his name, and they misinterpreted.”

“You actually ran him off,” Barbara says, her eyes wide. “You managed to get a gun and run him off before he could hurt you too.”

Denise Morrow looks down at her hands. “I… I think that’s what happened, but I honestly don’t remember. When I try to recall, I only get flashes, these quick images.”

“But you remember Detective Declan Shaw being in your apartment.”

Another quick nod from Morrow, then she wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. “It was like remembering a dream. Trying to hold water in my fist. As I came out of… the fog… as I found myself back in reality, those memories seemed so distant. Then Declan Shaw was there, standing next to me, he came through the door like nothing had happened and…”

“And my client became lost, confused, rightfully so,” Hoffman explains. “This is also characteristic of PTA. In that moment, she didn’t know if her memories were real, if the Declan Shaw in front of her was real or if it was all a product of her mind. Had she been clearheaded enough, she certainly would have alerted the other officers. It wasn’t until days later, after she was released, that I was able to get her the help sheneeded. That’s when the memories were retrieved.That’swhen we finally knew the truth.”

“Seeing David like that…” Denise chokes back tears and squeezes her eyes shut.

Barbara Leyland started her television career onThe Young and the Restless,playing the overly dramatic teenage daughter of one of the show’s regulars. Declan knows that because Leyland talks about it every chance she gets. She tells people she knew even then she wanted more, knew she didn’t want to be just another pretty face on television. She wanted to make a difference; she was born to be a reporter, not a character… blah-blah-blah. Her expression now brings to mind her early days in front of the camera. It looks as if it has been rehearsed in front of a mirror, practiced with a coach, perfected with multiple takes. She’s dripping sympathy as she reaches over and clasps Morrow’s hand. “David, your husband.”

Denise nods. “Seeing David like that, it couldn’t possibly be real—that’s what I told myself. That meant none of the rest was real either. I honestly expected to wake up any moment.”

“But you didn’t, did you?”

Morrow shakes her head. “I didn’t. I still haven’t. It’s… it’s been horrible.”

Barbara Leyland bites her lip, allows all that to sink in, then says, “I have to ask because everyone in our audience is asking themselves this—why would this detective want to kill your husband?”

“He wasn’t after David,” Denise Morrow says in a voice so quiet, she sounds like a little girl. “I think he wanted to kill me and David just got in his way.”

“Because of your new book?”

Denise Morrow nods. “A book abouthim.”

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