Page 69 of The Alibi Club

This stopped Cliff in his tracks. “You worked at the court? Doing what?”

“I was … am … was a forensic psychologist. I reviewed perp files and did psych evaluations for the prosecutor’s office.”

Cliff turned a little white. “Oh.” Oh no.

“That is a fascinating job,” Holly said. “How did you come into that profession?”

“I was interested in people. What their motivations were. And I have sort of a gift,” Jamie answered.

“Like you can tell when someone is lying?” Rick asked.

“Not exactly. But I do have a very developed sense of when people are not being truthful.”

Cliff grimaced further.

Sensing something interesting was afoot, Shannon and Kyle walked over to join the four of them. “What are we talking about?”

“Jamie has a gift,” Holly said.

“What? Like juggling?” Shannon asked.

“I knew it. Photographic memory?” Kyle asked.

Growing increasingly uncomfortable, Jamie begged off. “No, it’s not that big of a deal, really.”

“She worked as a forensic psychologist at the LA Superior Court assessing criminals,” Holly informed them.

“Like a profiler?” Kyle asked, excitement in his voice.

“Sort of,” Jamie said.

Cliff was getting nervous. He racked his brain to remember if he had ever interviewed with a psychologist in Los Angeles Superior Court. He recalled talking to one up in Chico, but that was way back when he was twenty-two. He was certain he’d never seen Jamie before; he would have remembered. You don’t run across that kind of attraction and forget it.

“Go on,” Holly urged.

Jamie took a deep breath and began to explain. “Ever since I was a teenager, I have been able to sort of see the essence of a person’s character quite quickly. My mind picks up energy, then deductive logic fills in the rest. It usually comes in three-word descriptors. With school and training, those skills got sharper. I became a forensic psychologist for the LA Superior Court and I was able to ascertain certain characteristics through body language, energy, and facial expressions. A psychology degree helped me inform the rest.”

“Did you ever deal with a serial killer?”

“Yes, several. The most recent was Clarence Eddy.”

“He killed seven co-eds with a French hunting knife in Santa Clarita,” Holly said. Rick shot her a look as if she couldn’t be more weird. She returned his gaze and said, “I watch a lot of true crime.”

“He was a nasty piece of work,” Jamie added. “I was on the team that put him away for life.”

A gasp from Shannon. Kyle was nodding along, impressed. Holly’s brow was furrowed with interest. Rick jutted his chin out, but also nodded along. Cliff could feel himself sweating.

“Do you do it for normal people? Or just criminals?” Holly asked.

“Well, I mean, it’s just sort of a default for how my brain works,” Jamie said. “So, yes, normal people, too.”

“Can you give us an example?” Holly asked.

Jamie looked over at Justin the bartender and then whispered, “Okay, so for instance, the bartender, Justin.”

All of them looked over at Justin as he built a mini fort out of cocktail straws.

Jamie continued, “I pick up aimless, uncomplicated, Peter Pan syndrome.”