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The concept frightening, she dialed Michael’s boss at his home number. On the third ring a woman answered.
“Hello?”
“Is Jeffrey Silver at home?”
“I’m sorry. He’s on a skiing trip in Vale. Is there something I can help you with?” The woman’s voice was succinct and pleasant.
“Do you know when he’ll be back?”
“I’m not certain,” the woman said after a hesitation. “May I ask who’s calling?”
“I’m…I’m sorry. I’ll try and talk with Mr. Silver when he returns.” Destiny ended the call before the woman asked any additional questions. She groaned and looked at Michael’s file again. His father had been dead for several years and his mother lived out of state. Perhaps he’d gone to her house to recuperate. Michael hated his parents, or at least he’d said. Destiny suspected abuse, but she’d dropped the subject. Worth a try.
She cleared her throat and checked the time. The hour would be very early in Seattle. Still, she had to try. The voice answering the end of the call seemed broken and tired. “Mrs. Cavanaugh?”
There was no sound on the other end of the line.
“Mrs. Cavanaugh, I’m calling about Michael. Do you have a few minutes?”
Destiny heard a strangled breath.
“Who are you?”
“Mrs. Cavanaugh, I’m Michael’s psychiatrist, Destiny Blade. I’m sorry for the early call but—”
“I haven’t gone by my husband’s last name in years. I never want to be reminded of that freak of nature.”
The disdain in the woman’s voice was evident. “I apologize. You are Michael’s mother?”
“Yes. What did he do?”
“Do? He…” How could she answer the question? “I’m simply trying to get in touch with him and I thought he might be staying with you.”
The woman laughed. “He knows better than to come back here.”
The hair on her arms prickled. “Why?” The hesitation gave her goose bumps.
“Because he’s a monster just like his father. Whatever has happened to my son is probably the best. Now, I ask you never to call me again. Do you understand? The boy is dead to me.”
“But he might be in trouble. He’s a very damaged soul.” Destiny walked back toward the window. She was nauseous, her heart racing.
“Damaged, Doctor Blade? Don’t fool yourself. The kid is evil. Spawn of the Devil. You’re best getting as far away from him as you can.”
Destiny knew the call had ended but continued to hold the phone to her ear. Evil. There’d been no signs of something horrific until his display in her office. Michael had rarely talked about his family, even though she’d tried. She plopped back down on the couch and jerked the thick paper file into her lap. Page after page she read over, yet there was almost nothing about his family. Except for a single entry.
‘Patient mentioned he’s glad his father is six feet under and wished him a long time in Hell.’
The concept was taken by the mother as well. Why hadn’t she remembered the words? She flipped through the remainder of the pages and checked her file on the computer. There was no other reference. She dropped her head into her hands. An entire and obviously particularly important section of Michael’s life she’d ignored, preferring to concentrate on his life today. What a fool she’d been.
He wants you but never forget, you belong to me…
The words lingered in the air. She swallowed and scanned her living room. Nothing had changed, yet he remained watching her. “What do you want? What the hell do you want from me?”
The air seemed to dip several degrees.
“Michael certainly can’t hurt you,” she snorted.
A whoosh of wind clanged against the glass.
