Taylor, and I’ll meet you there tomorrow morning.”
CHAPTER 9
A imee swung her car into the Whispering Pines Center parking lot, tense with excitement. She was on to something, she was sure of it. She was going to be able to help Taylor. Her shock over the murders was gone, replaced by anger. Anger was good, much better than fear. Anger burned clean.
She cruised down the parking lane, finding a spot. A vintage green sports car angled across two spaces; she could construct an entire personality profile based on that parking job. It was probably a he. He’d be controlling and manipulative, extremely precise and ordered in his ways. Perhaps a victim of some kind of abuse as a child, he tried to create order in his outer life to keep the chaos inside himself under control. No wonder the guy was visiting someone when in a mental institution—he probably drove everyone around him crazy.
When Aimee entered the lobby through the automatic sliding doors, Detective Wolf unwound himself from one of the scratched chairs.
Aimee’s pulse picked up and she frowned. Fine, he was gorgeous. But she didn’t need to get involved with a cop—that would be just too clichéd.
“Thank you for meeting me.” Aimee walked toward him, eager to get this process started.
“Thanks for calling.” He smiled down at her.
She stared up into his dark eyes and felt a buzz in her bloodstream, a connection she hadn’t felt with anyone for a very long time. “I had ulterior motives,” she said.
Those were to see her patient, right? Not to stare up into those dark depths or admire that strong jaw. She was betting that Brenner would step aside to let Josh Wolf talk to Taylor.
“I gathered. Ready?” He smiled and gestured to the booth.
Aimee nodded. He took her elbow and a shiver ran up her arm. She sidestepped away. He was a distraction; she needed to be focused if she was going to help Taylor.
“I’m Detective Wolf. I’m here to see Dr. Brenner,” Josh said through the round metal grate.
The woman shoved a clipboard with a sign-in sheet through the Plexiglas slot and clicked on her microphone. “I’ll let him know you’re here.” She clicked her microphone back off and picked up her phone.
Josh and Aimee both signed in and waited until one of the attendants, a short, round-faced woman with dusky skin and sleek black hair pulled into a tight bun, ushered them in and led them to Dr. Brenner’s office on the second floor.
The attendant knocked on an oak door recessed into the deep blue wall, and a voice told them to enter. The attendant opened the door.
“Come in. Come in,” a voice from inside the office said.
The attendant glided away and Aimee and Josh went into the office.
Dr. Brenner was tall, thin, and pale, his coloring a rarity in California where just walking to your car could put color in your skin. He looked beyond beleaguered. The circles beneath his eyes were dark and purple. His eyes were tinged with red, and his hair stuck out like he’d been running his hand through it.
Wolf settled himself in one of the chairs across from Brenner’s desk, crossed one of those long legs over the other, and leaned back. Purposefully nonconfrontational, or just playing his cards close to his chest, Aimee wondered? If it came to a pissing match, she had no doubt who would win. By the way Brenner’s Adam’s apple bobbed, he apparently didn’t have any doubts, either.
“Thank you for seeing us, Dr. Brenner. I’ll cut to the chase here. We need to see Taylor Dawkin,” Josh said.
Brenner sat down somewhat uncertainly. Aimee could understand why. It was Brenner’s office, but Wolf had made it clear within seconds who was running the meeting. “We?” Brenner asked.
Aimee leaned forward and offered her hand. “I’m Dr. Gannon. We spoke on the phone.”
Brenner’s lips drew tight. “And I’m certain I made clear that while I would very much value seeing your notes, I don’t think it’s in Taylor’s best interests
CHAPTER 9
A imee swung her car into the Whispering Pines Center parking lot, tense with excitement. She was on to something, she was sure of it. She was going to be able to help Taylor. Her shock over the murders was gone, replaced by anger. Anger was good, much better than fear. Anger burned clean.
She cruised down the parking lane, finding a spot. A vintage green sports car angled across two spaces; she could construct an entire personality profile based on that parking job. It was probably a he. He’d be controlling and manipulative, extremely precise and ordered in his ways. Perhaps a victim of some kind of abuse as a child, he tried to create order in his outer life to keep the chaos inside himself under control. No wonder the guy was visiting someone when in a mental institution—he probably drove everyone around him crazy.
When Aimee entered the lobby through the automatic sliding doors, Detective Wolf unwound himself from one of the scratched chairs.
Aimee’s pulse picked up and she frowned. Fine, he was gorgeous. But she didn’t need to get involved with a cop—that would be just too clichéd.
“Thank you for meeting me.” Aimee walked toward him, eager to get this process started.
“Thanks for calling.” He smiled down at her.
She stared up into his dark eyes and felt a buzz in her bloodstream, a connection she hadn’t felt with anyone for a very long time. “I had ulterior motives,” she said.
Those were to see her patient, right? Not to stare up into those dark depths or admire that strong jaw. She was betting that Brenner would step aside to let Josh Wolf talk to Taylor.
“I gathered. Ready?” He smiled and gestured to the booth.
Aimee nodded. He took her elbow and a shiver ran up her arm. She sidestepped away. He was a distraction; she needed to be focused if she was going to help Taylor.
“I’m Detective Wolf. I’m here to see Dr. Brenner,” Josh said through the round metal grate.
The woman shoved a clipboard with a sign-in sheet through the Plexiglas slot and clicked on her microphone. “I’ll let him know you’re here.” She clicked her microphone back off and picked up her phone.
Josh and Aimee both signed in and waited until one of the attendants, a short, round-faced woman with dusky skin and sleek black hair pulled into a tight bun, ushered them in and led them to Dr. Brenner’s office on the second floor.
The attendant knocked on an oak door recessed into the deep blue wall, and a voice told them to enter. The attendant opened the door.
“Come in. Come in,” a voice from inside the office said.
The attendant glided away and Aimee and Josh went into the office.
Dr. Brenner was tall, thin, and pale, his coloring a rarity in California where just walking to your car could put color in your skin. He looked beyond beleaguered. The circles beneath his eyes were dark and purple. His eyes were tinged with red, and his hair stuck out like he’d been running his hand through it.
Wolf settled himself in one of the chairs across from Brenner’s desk, crossed one of those long legs over the other, and leaned back. Purposefully nonconfrontational, or just playing his cards close to his chest, Aimee wondered? If it came to a pissing match, she had no doubt who would win. By the way Brenner’s Adam’s apple bobbed, he apparently didn’t have any doubts, either.
“Thank you for seeing us, Dr. Brenner. I’ll cut to the chase here. We need to see Taylor Dawkin,” Josh said.
Brenner sat down somewhat uncertainly. Aimee could understand why. It was Brenner’s office, but Wolf had made it clear within seconds who was running the meeting. “We?” Brenner asked.
Aimee leaned forward and offered her hand. “I’m Dr. Gannon. We spoke on the phone.”
Brenner’s lips drew tight. “And I’m certain I made clear that while I would very much value seeing your notes, I don’t think it’s in Taylor’s best interests
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