Page 94 of Guilty as Sin
“It’s a personal thing. I’m hoping it will only take a few minutes, and I’m prepared to pay your usual rate for your time.” The usual rate was probably enormous. She should have asked Jace if he were willing to pay it, but too late now. “It has to do with my twin. Indirectly.” She did have to play by the rules enough to say the “personal” part. Miranda St. John was a very eminent professor of forensic psychology at a very eminent institution, and the SFPD wouldn’t be amused if they got a bill for her services.
“You have a twin?” Dr. St. John asked. “I’m strangely interested. Is she a police officer as well? Identical or fraternal?”
“Identical,” Paige said, and could swear Dr. St. John purred. “And no. She owns a lingerie store.”
“Fascinating. All right. I have a seminar in… eighteen minutes. You have fifteen minutes. Go.”
Be fascinating. Be brief.“I’m switching places with my twin temporarily as a result of some threats she’s received. I’m wondering about the possible psychological profile of somebody who’s stalking a man I’ve become close with. I’ve become close with him while I’m being her to everybody else, I mean. So I’m concerned about the threat to both of them.”
“Interesting. Give me the details.”
“Right. The person started out writing erotic fiction about my friend, sending it to him.” Paige described the letters as best she could remember, then moved on to the hand-delivered thong and blindfold and everything that had happened since, including the attack on her. “Which could have been another perpetrator entirely,” she finished, “connected to the other threat I mentioned, the one to my twin, but the violence feels linked. You see my difficulty, though, with the blurring between the two cases. What I assume are two cases, because the one attack on me was violent, and the other threats I got seemed better thought out, milder, coming from a different mindset. My question is—what kind of a person might we be looking for with the stalker? And is it reasonable to think that this person would go after the target’s partner as well?”
Dr. St. John made a humming noise. “I’d like you to email me those letters. Stalker fiction sent to a novelist.Veryinteresting. And, yes, of course the violence could transfer. Sexual jealousy. Stalking’s all about exerting power and control. If this escalated after the man was instructed to respond by leaving the envelope visible, and he ignored the request and showed up with you at the meeting place? A stalker wants to matter. They want to change your life. They hate being ignored. This person has made no attempt to identify herself or himself?”
“No. Which seems unusual. It also feels like a woman, but I’d appreciate your opinion on that, too.”
“I’d like to look over those letters and give it some thought, do a little research. And, darn it,” Dr. St. John added, sounding much more like a Minnesotan than an eminent academic, “I have to get to that seminar. Send me the letters, and pictures of the damage to your friend’s house, too, if you have them. Also a description of your own injuries. It won’t be a psychological diagnosis, just my best guess, and maybe a consultation with a colleague. If you send it quickly, I’ll take a look after my seminar and let you know tonight, since it sounds fairly urgent. And since I’d enjoy doing it.”
“Your best guess works,” Paige said. “And thanks. Thanks very much.”
“No problem. Twin switch. I love it. Got to go.”
She hung up, and Paige texted Jace and explained. She added,Hope you kept copies. I didn’t think abt this being them trying to destroy evidence. Could be though. Hope you’re OK w/ sending. I doubt Worthington’s investing dept resources in a profiler.
The answer came straight back.Prob not. Worthless doesn’t like me. And do me a favor, of course I kept copies. Online backup. Give me ten mins to get it all off my phone.
Paige got out of the car. She’d sell some underwear. After that, she’d figure out who was targeting Jace. And then she’d get her.
She got the call when she was pulling up outside Lily’s barn at six-fifteen. Jace’s truck was already there. She had a feeling that he’d always show up first. He was over by the chicken coop, Tobias trotting at his side with his skinny tail sweeping back and forth in a slow, contented rhythm. The low, shining light of late afternoon slanted over the two of them, the shadow of the mountain looming above. All very serene, but Paige thought,Bees,and said into the phone, “Dr. St. John? Thanks for calling back. If you can hang on two minutes, I’m going to grab that friend of mine so he can hear, too.”
“I can wait,” the professor said, and Paige hauled herself out of the car and waved at Jace. He hustled over to her fast, and she told him, “I have Dr. St. John on the phone. Hop in the car so we don’t have to compete with the goats.”
He did, so did she, and she said, “Hi, Dr. St. John. We’re here. I’m putting you on speaker. This is Jace Blackstone.”
“Hello,” the professor said. “First—what kind of books do you write? I’d like to know, after reading those letters. Do you have a professional name?”
“Thrillers,” he said. “Under Jason Black.”
“Ah. Yes. That makes sense. I’ve read one of your books. The one about Iraq, since I prefer my fiction to take place at a comfortable distance from my job. I enjoyed it.”
“Thank you,” Jace said. “Turns out I’ve read one of yours as well. The one about the Southside Strangler. I won’t say I enjoyed it, but it was useful. Took me to the micro level on my baddies, which isn’t something I’ve seen enough of for book purposes.”
“I’m remembering that you were a soldier. Instructive once again. Your dangerous job turns our stalker on. And the micro level. Hmm. Right.” Her voice turned businesslike. “You have an interesting adversary. I’m calling her ‘her,’ although of course I can’t say for sure. But the profile’s more of a female-on-male stalker. Prior acquaintancewithouta sexual history, and higher IQ and education level, as evidenced by the sophistication of the letters. And the sudden and total transition from romantic fixation to anger when she didn’t get the response she wanted suggests Borderline Personality Disorder.”
“Which is…” Jace said.
“Black and white thinking. Somebody’s in or they’re out, and it happens fast and completely. Everything’s the best thing ever until it’s the worst thing ever. A man’s your savior, and then he’s your abuser. Everybody and everything disappoints you. You yearn for attachment in your career and your relationships, and you destroy any chance at it with your behavior. Then you end the relationship or quit the job, and you’re furious at the partner, the friend, the boss who let you down.”
“Sounds pleasant,” Paige said.
“Very unpleasant indeed. Much more prevalent in women. And most importantly for us, it can be associated with a preoccupied attachment pathology. Not every woman with BPD is a stalker, of course, but a fair percentage of female stalkers are diagnosed as BPD. For our stalker, consider what she’s written. The woman in her story is anonymous in all but the last piece, and even there, she doesn’t describe herself. A female stalker isn’t nearly as likely to be motivated by narcissism, grandiosity, or explicitly sexual drivers as a male one. Instead, she’s motivated by the pursuit of intimacy with her victim and anger when she doesn’t achieve it. Sound familiar?”
“Sounds exact,” Jace said, his tone grim. “But the letters were sexual.”
“Because she thought that would work on you. She’s confusing you with your hero, I’m guessing. But here again—a female is also much less likely to risk a direct physical confrontation than a typical male stalker would be. Perhaps for physical reasons—not being as strong as you—and perhaps for psychological ones. You’re seeing the effects of an explosive temperament in both the attack on your house and the attack on Paige, but she didn’t personally attack you. She attacked Paige. And I’d expect that pattern to continue. She wants a connection, but she actuallydoesn’ttry to connect in person. When there’s an obstacle in her way, though, she’s furious. She wants that obstacle removed.”
“So we watch Paige,” Jace said. “And her sister.”
