Page 15 of The Girl He Claimed

"You're a guard, Karen. You'resupposed to keep the prisoners here. But you never do anything that makes youstand out. You don't take initiative, you don't take risks. Why is that?"

Karen looked at her; her eyes were wide."I don't know what you're getting at."

Paige leaned back in her chair,studying Karen's face. "I think you know exactly what I'm getting at,Karen. You make sure that nobody notices you, because you're worried about whatthey'll see if they look too closely. You have something to hide."

Karen's eyes darted back and forth,and Paige could see that she was becoming more and more agitated. Paige wonderedif she was getting too close to the truth.

"I don't know what you'retalking about," Karen exclaimed.

Paige wasn't sure about that. Shecontinued to press. "You enjoy the power of being invisible. You likeknowing things that nobody else does. You like to observe people without themknowing they're being watched. And you like being in control."

Karen's eyes flickered with amixture of anger and fear. "That's not true," she said, her voiceshaking.

"Where were you on the18th?" Christopher asked suddenly from the side. "During the night,where were you?"

Paige realized what he was asking.The 18th was the night when the Exsanguination Killer had murdered Jennifer. Hewasn't interested in the escape now, just in establishing whether he waslooking at the serial killer he was hunting. They were hunting.

"I don't know," Karensaid. "I'd have been at home, I guess."

"You guess?" Christophersaid.

"Yes, I guess," Karenrepeated. "I don't really remember. It was just a regular day forme."

Paige noticed a bead of sweatforming on Karen's forehead, despite the cool temperature of the treatment roomthey were using for the interrogation. She knew that they were getting to her.

"Karen, we need you to beabsolutely certain about your whereabouts on that night," Paige said."Can you think of anything that might help jog your memory?"

Karen shook her head. "No, ofcourse not. Who could?"

Was that vagueness deliberate, orwas it just the natural inability to remember that came with most people justliving their normal lives?

Paige couldn't help thinking abouther own version of the same question. There was no way that Karen would admitto knowing where she was on one specific day a decade ago, but at least Paigecould ask the question in general terms.

"Where were you before youwere a guard in a psychiatric facility?" Paige asked. "What did youdo?"

Karen's eyes narrowed, and for amoment, Paige thought she wouldn't answer. But then she sighed heavily andleaned back in her chair.

"I was a nurse," shesaid. "I worked in a hospital."

Paige leaned forward, her interestpiqued. "What kind of hospital?"

"It was a generalhospital," Karen said, her voice tight. "Is this reallyrelevant?"

"It could be," Paigesaid. "You see, Karen, we're trying to piece together a picture of who youare. I'm wondering if you had any experience with mental health patients beforeyou became a guard here.” And crucially, if she had experience administeringsedatives.

"A little, nothing major. Whyare you asking me all of this?"

"What made you decide tobecome a guard in a psychiatric facility?" Christopher asked.

Karen shrugged. "It was just ajob that was available. I needed to pay the bills."

Paige studied Karen's face,searching for any sign of deception. But Karen seemed to be telling the truth. Atleast she didn't seem to be lying about her past.

"What about ten yearsago?" Paige asked. "Where were you then?"

Paige needed to know if this womancould have killed her father.

"You want to know where I wasa decade ago? What does that have to do with today?"

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