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“Dr. Balog,” Fiona said as she sat down across from him. “I know you asked for a lawyer, but I wanted to talk to you first, without my partner here. Would that be all right?”
Balog shifted in his seat before answering her question. “Okay then… what is it?”
Fiona felt her palms sweat. If she was wrong about this, then she’d look like an unprofessional fool—but she had to believe in herself.
“Dr. Balog,” Fiona said, “I’m not so convinced you’re guilty.”
“Is this a trick?” Balog said. “Good cop thing?”
“No,” Fiona said, and she meant that. “I’m just—I’m worried about your other patients. You can’t deny it, Doctor. Three of the people from your anonymous support group have been killed in a way that utilized their worst fears. There were other people in that group, and they could be next.”
Dr. Balog looked thoughtful for a moment before he finally spoke. “You may be right,” he said, his voice low and contemplative. “But none of the people in that group know each other’s identities—they all had to remain anonymous. And it was so long ago. I didn’t even know their names. I only know Barlow because of his position, and he actually paid for two one-on-one therapy sessions outside of the group. But everyone else was anonymous.”
“Was there ever anyone particularly strange at the meetings?” Fiona asked. “Anyone who stood out?”
Dr. Balog closed his eyes for a moment, as if he were trying to remember the faces of the people who had been in the group.”No one in particular,” he said. “Everyone was just looking for help. I suppose they were all strange in their own ways. They had many fears, some more bizarre than the others. Like I said, no one was aware of each other’s identities, and I certainly wasn’t either. I didn’t use their names, even in my book.”
Fiona paused at that last part. “Book? What book?”
Dr. Balog smiled sadly. “I’m writing a book about overcoming phobias. It’s been something that I’ve been working on for years now. I was hoping it would help people learn to cope with their fears and understand how to overcome them. It’s an exploration of the psychology behind them, as well as personal anecdotes from those who have gone through it. I want to help others who suffer with the same issues, and I feel like if I can write this book, then maybe it would make a difference in their lives.”
“And you were using people from the support group in the book?”
“Yes, with their permission,” he said. “The groups were free to those who consented to letting me use their stories. But again, they were completely, one hundred percent, anonymous. When Senator Barlow showed up, he actually wore a medical face mask and said he was afraid of getting sick to hide his identity from the others.”
Fiona’s mind was running a mile a minute. Dr. Balog kept insisting it was anonymous, but surely, it wouldn’t be impossible to figure out who the other members of the group were. Even if it wasn’t him, it could have been someone else in that group.
Or someone who listened to the group?
“You said there were recordings?” Fiona asked. “Did anyone else ever listen to them?”
Dr. Balog went quiet for a moment, thinking it over, a dark look on his face.
“Now that I think about it… there was one person. Someone I hired to transcribe the recordings so I could work their exact phrases into my book. But he was never in the office. He never met any of the people, never went to the sessions. There is no way he’d be able to identify them based on their voices… right?”
Fiona felt a chill run through her. She had a feeling that Dr. Balog was wrong, that the transcriber might have been able to identify them, even if he never met any of the people in person. He had only heard the recordings supplied by Dr. Balog. It was entirely possible that he could have used the recordings to piece together their identities and then used his knowledge for malicious purposes.
Fiona didn’t want to believe it, but she couldn’t ignore the possibility that the transcriber could be the killer they were looking for.
“Dr. Balog,” Fiona said, leaning forward, “I want to believe you’re innocent, but unless we can prove it was someone else, that won’t happen. My colleague is very sure you are the killer. Do you have the name of this transcriber?”
Dr. Balog sighed and hung his head in defeat. “Yes,” he said, finally. “His name is Ted Dunn. I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
All he’d ever wanted was to live fearlessly.
With every life he’d taken, he was getting there. Overcoming his own fears, and freeing them from theirs. They were the lucky ones, weren’t they?
As he sat in his home, he was prepared to take the next plunge—to conquer his next fear, and earn the right to free someone else from theirs.
And he’d already made his choice.
As he listened to the recording, he heard the voice of the person who had gone to the group therapy session all those years ago, the session he was hired to transcribe. He’d felt jealous of the people in the session, at the time he’d been given the job. He’d wished he could be there, to conquer his own fears, but he wasn’t. They had been able to confront their fears and try to get help, but the truth was, the session did nothing for them, as their fears never really went away.
They only left them after they were dead. Freed—by him.
He smiled to himself, listening to the woman’s voice on the recording.
