Let Darkness Come by Angela Hunt Page A

there. We met, we talked. After that, we were almost always together.”
    Briley makes a note and glances at her client. Erin is wearing an inward look of deep abstraction; wherever she’s gone, she doesn’t want to leave. “What are you thinking?”
    The woman shudders slightly and rubs her arms. “I was thinking about Lisa Marie. I remember being surprised when I realized Mom couldn’t hear her—after all, I heard hervoice in my head all the time. But as I got older, Mom told me I was stupid to keep pretending. So I stopped talking to Lisa Marie, but she didn’t stop talking to me.”
    Briley’s pen halts on the legal pad. Is this woman trying to make a case for schizophrenia? “Are you saying—” she proceeds with caution “—that your invisible friend still talks to you?”
    Erin rakes her hand through her hair. “I told you it sounds crazy.”
    â€œThat’s reassuring. I’m no psychiatrist, but I’ve heard that crazy people think they’re perfectly sane.”
    Erin stares at her, then manages a brief smile. “Okay—yes, I still hear her, but only in my dreams. Sometimes I’ll go to sleep and she’ll be waiting to talk to me about something. When I was a teenager, she knew all about Mom and how things were at home. When I’d want to run away, Lisa Marie would calm me down and tell me that things would be worse on the street. I learned to listen to her. Her advice was always better than my mother’s.”
    Briley presses her lips together. She can’t remember much from her college psychology classes, but surely there’s some part of the human mind that reasons with the other parts when they’re under stress. This is probably a normal function, like the conscience reminding us of the consequences of unlawful behavior….
    Still, an interview with a forensic psychologist is definitely in order. The firm keeps a file of experts in the field, but if Briley calls a shrink to testify, the prosecution will call an expert of their own. Net result: zero gain.
    She clicks the end of her pen in a burst of nervous energy. “Do you know what Lisa Marie looks like?”
    Erin frowns. “In my dream, she looks like me. That probably means something, but I’ve never seen her any other way. She doesn’t morph into anything, if that’s what you mean.”
    â€œI don’t mean anything. I’m only trying to understand.”Briley snaps the end of her pen again. “Did Lisa Marie speak to you the night Jeffrey died?”
    â€œI told you, I was out cold from the sleeping pills.”
    Briley smiles. “So if you’re not still dreaming of her…”
    â€œThat’s just it, I am. Weeks go by and I don’t see her, but I dreamed of her last night. She told me something, then she said I should tell you. You’re going to think I’m making this up, but I’m not, I swear I’m not.”
    Briley braces herself. “And what are you supposed to tell me?”
    The corners of Erin’s mouth tighten. “She did it. After I went to sleep that night, Lisa Marie killed Jeffrey.”

Chapter Twenty-One
    A ntonio Tomassi steps off the elevator and into a branch of the Cook County State’s Attorney’s Office, a space crowded with L-shaped desks, steel-and-vinyl chairs, and myriad human bodies. Fluorescent lights flicker overhead while the air vibrates with the hum of fax machines and computers. Tired-looking men and women work behind desks, either tapping on keyboards or squinting at papers as they tilt their heads to hold telephones against their shoulders. Every one of them looks like central casting sent them to play the role of anonymous civil servant.
    Without glancing behind him, Antonio gestures to Jason.
    â€œYes, Papa?”
    â€œWho is the man we need to see?”
    Jason steps forward and pulls a slip of paper from his pocket.