Red Rain: Lightning Strikes: Red Rain Series #2 by David Beers Page A

friends a few years ago. We were heading to Panama City for the weekend. All of a sudden I got this strange feeling that I was going to be pulled over. I didn’t question it, I just said I was tired of driving and asked if one of them would take over. Now, I didn’t think anything would happen to them, only that I would be pulled over if I kept driving.” She smiled somewhat sheepishly. “Erica ended up getting pulled over five minutes later.”
    Susan smiled. “That’s true?”
    “Yeah, it’s true,” Kaitlin said as her own grin died. “I’ve got a million things like that, and each one can probably be dismissed, but cumulatively—well, I trust my feelings. And I’m feeling that someone is watching me because I helped you. Did you find the guy who did this yet?”
    “No, not yet.”
    “He’s going to try to kill me.”
    Susan leaned forward, putting her elbows on the table. “Where do you feel like you’re being watched?”
    “At my apartment. I live alone.”
    “When?”
    “Late at night. I look out my window but I never see anything.”
    “I can help if you want me to,” Susan said.
    “You guys put me in this situation. How can you help?”
    “I can offer protection,” she said. “We can put someone outside your apartment until this is over.”
    “And what if they just start following me when I go somewhere else? What if they follow me to work or out one weekend, your guys are going to be there too?”
    “They can,” Susan said. “If you’re in danger, it’s our job to make sure you’re safe.”
    “He’ll wait, whoever it is. He’ll wait until there’s an opening.”
    “Kaitlin, he doesn’t have forever. We’re tracking him down. Right now my partner is working toward catching him. If he hangs around you, and we’re watching, he’s done. Completely.”
    “Can I think about it?” Kaitlin said.
    “Of course. Here ….” Susan reached into her purse and pulled out one of her cards. “I’m writing my cell on the back. Call that whenever you want.”
    The girl reached across the table and took it. “Thanks,” she said.

16

A Portrait of a Young Man
    “ T wo years , huh, John?” Dr. Vondi said.
    “What do you mean?”
    “Two years ago you came in here for the first time. You were thirteen.”
    “Has it been that long?” John said.
    Dr. Vondi nodded. “A little longer for your mom … What do you think you’re getting out of this?”
    “Like, from talking to you?”
    “Yeah.”
    John paused, thinking, and Dr. Vondi thought too. He hadn’t stopped thinking since last night, knowing that John was coming. Two years was a long time, a long goddamn time when you considered the patient was John Hilt. Vondi didn’t know if he could go on any longer, because he knew what they were doing here. Toying with each other. No one giving all their thoughts and so they danced instead of fucking.
    “I guess it’s good to talk about school. I don’t really talk to anyone else about it.”
    “I’m just wondering, John, if you think it’s a good idea to keep coming here?” Vondi said.
    “Why wouldn’t it be?”
    Delicate. Be delicate.
    “I’m not seeing a lot of growth. I’m not sure that I can help anymore.”
    “What were you trying to help me with?”
    The kid was smart, which was part of the problem. He always had questions that Vondi hadn’t thought of, and wasn’t prepared to answer. Which made any conversation tough and potentially full of landmines. Therapy wasn’t supposed to be like this. A war with landmines littered across the field.
    “I wanted to understand you better and I thought when that happened, I could help both you and your mom.”
    “You mean the fact she thinks I killed Harry, right?”
    “I mean your relationship overall,” Vondi said.
    “And you haven’t helped it? She doesn’t ever even think about Harry anymore,” John said.
    “You’re sure of that?”
    “She doesn’t talk to me about it.”
    Dr. Vondi sighed. “What I’m getting