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“We’ve never met,” Ian told him.
The man shifted to the edge of his seat. “You came to my office several months ago. I remember now. You said you were one of Genevieve’s patients. That she had referred you.”
Vivi shot him a look. Ian shook his head. “The only therapist I’ve ever been to is her.”
“The photo.” Vivi set down the weapon. “That makes twice you’ve been impersonated. Jack Spear?”
Ian frowned. “A long shot, but seems possible.”
She pinned Lippenstein with a glare. “You saw him as a patient, the man who looks like Ian? What kind of help did he want?”
“His name was…Terry. Alan Terry. He told me he’d washed out of The Farm. That he didn’t know what to do. It was his dream to work for the CIA. You wouldn’t treat him because he wasn’t an operative, so you sent him to me.”
“Isent him to you?”
“Beatrice said Spear was an alias. How many sessions did you have with him?” Ian asked. “Did he come here to the house?”
“I saw him at my office in town. He was depressed and had no purpose, so I put him on anti-depressants and started behavioral therapy. He only came twice, then disappeared.”
“You never mentioned him to me,” Vivi said.
Lippenstein shrugged. “I planned to ask you about him at our next appointment. I was concerned about his depression, but then you…” He rolled his hand a couple times. “You know.”
Vivi paced in front of the desk. “How did he find out about my dad? How could he possibly have planted a trigger in my brain that made me follow his instructions?”
The doctor shrugged. “He said that you’d told him about you and your father’s game of hypnotizing each other. That you thought I should use a similar technique with him and your preferred trigger word.”
She stopped mid-stride, aghast. “And you just told him what it was? Without checking with me?”
“He had the recording.”
Ian felt his blood run cold. He shot to his feet. “What recording?”
“The one you did at MIT,” the man said to Vivi, “demonstrating your technique.”
Vivi swallowed visibly. “What?”
“He claimed you’d given it to him so I’d know what you thought would work best for him.” He stared at her, realizing the mistake he’d made by trusting the man. “Oh, Genevieve, I’m so sorry.”
Ian’s wife clutched her stomach and leaned on the desk for support.
Ian got the gist of it, but was unclear about the details. “What does that video demonstrate?”
She lifted her pretty eyes, now filled with dismay. “How to control me. Dad and I took turns, demonstrating how it worked. I utilized the video as part of my thesis. Whoever this imposter is, he must have gained access to it.”
He wanted to ask what the word was, but didn’t want to activate it. “How do we switch it off?”
Lippenstein came to his slippered feet. “I’ll do it.” He faced Vivi. “I’ll put you under and remove it.”
Ian wanted to tell the man to sit his ass down. He certainly didn’t trust him to use any type of mind control on her.
But she was already nodding, inhaling sharply, and straightening once more. “Now,” she said, her voice tight. She set the baton down. “Get it out,now.”
Lippenstein motioned her to his recliner.
As she practically fell into it, Ian rose and picked up his gun. “Vivi, are you sure this a good idea?”
The doctor gave him an indignant glare. “I know what I’m doing. I’m the only one who can, in fact, put her under.”
