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“I see.”
“Wouldn’t this be something she would discuss with her therapist?”
I fidgeted with my hands in my lap. “Not necessarily.”
“This friend of hers, Marie, swears that she told her she was in love. Why would someone who was in love want to kill herself?”
“Dr. Cates, I wish I could help you. But honestly, there was nothing in my sessions that indicated Gina was suicidal.”
“Marie said Gina knew the person she was in love with would never love her back.”
“Like I said, it wasn’t anything we discussed.”
Dr. Cates stood and paced around my small session area. “I don’t understand it. If she was in love and upset that her love might be unrequited, why wouldn’t she discuss that with you?”
Because I was the one she was in love with. But I couldn’t say that. I hadn’t yet dealt with the fallout from Gina’s feelings myself.
“Who wouldn’t have wanted Gina? She was brilliant and beautiful.”
“And she was also very troubled, obviously,” I said.
Dr. Cates’s face twisted into…not rage, exactly, but not anything good. Clearly those words had not been the right ones.
“How did you not see this? What kind of a therapist are you?”
How did you not see that her uncle—your brother-in-law—was abusing your daughter all those years? I desperately wanted to say the words, but that would only make things worse. I stood. “Dr. Cates, I think it would be best if you left now.”
“No. You tell me.” He inched toward me.
Chills ran up my neck.
“How could you not have seen this happening? How could you not know she was in love?”
My blood ran cold. He was between me and the door. Randi was gone. It was after five o’clock, so unless a security guard was walking down the hallway, no one would hear me if I screamed.
I didn’t think Dr. Cates would actually hurt me, but I knew enough to see that he wasn’t completely in his right mind.
I gritted my teeth. “Dr. Cates, I will tell you one more time. You need to leave. Now.”
He took one more step toward me. “Not until I get some answers.”
“I don’t have any answers.”
“If you don’t have them, who does? You’re the only one. You’ve got to have answers. Where’s your goddamned file?”
My file was locked up, thank God. After the other day when the letter from Gina had slipped out, I realized how stupid I had been leaving it on my desk. How was I supposed to move on if that file stared at me from my desk like a vulture? It was safely locked in my file cabinet at home with my other files of patients who were no longer active.
I wasn’t an attorney, but I knew better than to give my files to this man anyway. After Gina died, I had spoken with an attorney and with another therapist who was a respected colleague, both of whom went through my files. They both concluded that I had not committed any malpractice and that there had been no reason to believe Gina Cates was suicidal.
Of course, I hadn’t told them about the letter.
That letter was between Gina and me.
And damn it, I was taking it to the grave.
Chapter Nineteen
Jonah
