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“I’ve got a new case.” She regards me closely, waiting to see if I’ve heard the news. I recall the gossip I overheard earlier this afternoon with Emma—the bits and pieces I can remember, anyway.
“Ah, yes. I heard something happened at Mirror Lakes? Someone died. Is that what you’re talking about?”
Rowan nods and fidgets with the hem of her shirt. “It was a homicide.”
“Wow. So that’s got you working nonstop, then.”
She nods.
I allow the silence to linger between us, hoping that it won’t be one of those visits again. My first meeting with Rowan Velky was mandated by law, after she was involved in an officer-involved shooting. Rowan shot and killed a fifty-year-old Caucasian male, high on methamphetamine, who was wielding a machete behind the local gas station. She was cleared of any wrongdoing, but had to fulfill her end of therapy. Once our mandated five sessions were up, I assumed I would never see her again. I was wrong. For reasons unbeknownst to me, Rowan requested to continue our therapy sessions. And here we are. She, staring out the window, me, trying to crack one of the thickest nuts I have ever come across.
When I realize it is, indeed, going to be one of those sessions, I take a deep breath and refer to my notes.
NINETEEN
AMBER
“How is your Aunt Jenny doing?” I ask, looking at the note I’d scribbled and circled ten times: sick aunt – jenny.
Rowan fills me in on the latest details of her aunt’s dementia. This is a triggering topic for her.
Rowan spent most of her childhood and early teenage years in children’s shelters and bouncing in and out of foster homes. Both of her parents were drug addicts, meth to be exact. I only know this information because it was in her file when she was referred to me after the gas-station incident—not because Rowan voluntarily offered the information to me. I’m glad I was privy to these details beforehand because it helped me understand why Rowan felt no remorse for ending the machete-wielding man’s life. None whatsoever. I suspect this emotional vacuity is a direct result of the trauma she suffered while growing up in a drug-addicted environment. An emotional wall, so to speak.
During her tumultuous childhood, Rowan’s aunt was the only family member who offered to foster Rowan, but when her aunt fell into financial hardship and had to file for bankruptcy, only six months after moving her niece in, she surrendered Rowan back to the system. I suspect Rowan has taken Jenny in now because she feels a sense of loyalty to the woman, not because the two are close.
I note that Rowan doesn’t mention her husband once in the Aunt Jenny update. So, I steer the conversation, as the intricacies of her marriage is something I am exhaustively trying to peel back.
“How are things with you and Shepherd?”
Rowan considers her answer.
“The same,” she says finally.
“How so?”
“He still doesn’t have a job, and for whatever reason, won’t accept any that has been offered to him. And I still don’t ever want to have sex with him. And we still fight constantly. And now, he’s drinking way too much.”
“What was your last argument about?”
“Sex, money, and me being a workaholic.”
“Okay, so same argument, new day.”
“Exactly.”
“And how did this one end?”
“I went to work.”
I snort.
Rowan smirks. A rare thing. She’s pretty when she smiles.
“Rowan, during our last visit we talked about high sensation seekers, a very specific personality type.”
“I remember.”
“I want to dive into this a bit more. As we discussed, sensation seekers constantly crave new experiences, whether good or bad. Not just stereotypical things like jumping off cliffs, or racing cars, but smaller things like trying new restaurants, signing up for the latest and greatest whatever, or maybe constantly buying new things. We talked about how you moved from apartment to apartment every six months after you turned eighteen—for no apparent reason other than you simply wanted to. And how you jumped from job to job until finally settling at the department. You’ve stayed in this job because it offers something new and exciting—for lack of a better word—almost daily. It’s the perfect job for you. Every time you get a new case you get that dopamine rush, and you commit yourself fully to it until it’s closed. And then you get another, and another…”
