Page 27 of Absent Feeling

“Amber,we need to focus.”

“AndI need to clear my head. Just … give me a minute, Simon.”

Ambergot up and headed for the door. The worst part was that she couldn’t go all theway outside because the press were out there, waiting for anything that theycould glean about the investigation. She had to settle for standing in acorridor instead, taking a few deep breaths as she tried to get herself back inthe game.

Itwasn’t like this, creating puzzles. There wasn’t this sense of pressure, evenwhen Harry had insisted on last-minute changes to her puzzles page back whenshe’d worked for theWashington News.

Therewas more pressure now. The pressure of trying to catch a killer. The pressureof trying to find something in a series of clues that didn’t seem to point anywhere.Maybe that was why Amber was treating it all as a puzzle; because, underpressure, that was the thing she knew best how to deal with. Even now, thetemptation was to get out her phone, call up an image of the inkblot, and keepsearching for a way to unravel its meaning.

Shehad to force herself not to. Instead, she took a few deep breaths, collectingherself, then went back to where Simon was waiting back in the main office ofthe Guisborough PD.

“Areyou ok?” he asked. “So soon after the murder scene …”

Amberrealized that he thought that the whole scene had shaken her up and that waswhy she was doing all of this. Maybe he was even right. Amber felt a littleshaky, like nothing made sense right then. “I’m fine.”

“Areyou sure?” Simon asked.

Amberforced herself to nod. “We need to focus on the case, not me.”

“Ok.Well, I had an idea,” Simon said. “You’re right about one thing: the Rorschachcard is the most consistent and unique thing about all of these murders, evenif you don’t think it fits the standard patterns. So, that started me thinkingthat we need to know a lot more about the Rorschach test.”

“Howare we going to find that out?”

“Ithink I’ve found someone who can help us.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Amberwas impressed by the offices she and Simon were standing in, on one of theupper floors of a shining, expensive office building. Discrete cards left inthe lobby promised therapy and psychological training for the discerningprofessional.

Theoffice itself was decorated in soothing, pastel shades, with furniture thatappeared to consist almost exclusively of precise and expensive recreations of1950s designs. It was as if Ms. Lloyd had decided that giving clients the sensethat they were stepping into something from the past was the easiest way tomake them feel less threatened by the whole experience.

Anassistant met Amber and Simon as they stepped out of the elevator. She had abrisk, professional look, her dark hair tied back, her makeup carefullyunderstated, her dark pantsuit immaculate in a way that made Amber worry abouthow rumpled her own clothes were getting after running around trying to find akiller for more than a day.

“Doyou have an appointment?” she asked.

Simonflashed his badge. “We called ahead. Dr. Lloyd is expecting us.”

“Justtake a seat for a moment or two,” the assistant said. “She’s just finishingwith a client.”

Itwas frustrating, having to wait when the killer could be hunting his nextvictim even now. Amber didn’t like having to sit there until a middle-aged businessmancame out of an interior office space and left. It felt as though they werewasting time that might have been better spent trying to figure out whatevermeaning the killer had put into the inkblot.

“Whoare we here to see?” Amber asked.

“Dr.Sally Lloyd. She’s a forensic psychologist.”

Meaningthat she might know all about the Rorschach test.

Theassistant gestured for them to go through into an interior office where comfortablelooking chairs sat around a small, round desk. There were a couple of landscapepaintings on the walls, but otherwise the space was mostly empty.

SallyLloyd proved to be a woman in her fifties, tall and slender, with short hairbleached until it was almost white. Her blue eyes sparkled with intelligence asshe gestured for the two of them to sit down.

“Youmust be Agent Phelps. And this is …”

“AmberYoung,” Simon explained. “She’s working with me on this case. We could use yourhelp, Dr. Lloyd.”

“Soyou said when you called,” the psychologist said. “What exactly do you needfrom me?”

“First,I have to ask you, have you ever been involved in work at the GuisboroughWellness Institute?” Simon asked.

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