Strip Search by William Bernhardt Page B

detox. I quietly recited my personal mantra. I know I have a problem, I said, over and over again, as the water cascaded down my hair, my face, my long flat stomach. But I will not give into it. I want to be a better person. I am trying to be a better person.
    I said it over and over again. But I didn’t believe it.
    I stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around my head, and heard the doorbell ring. Who the hell was that? Couldn’t be anyone from the office; I wasn’t due for another hour. Darcy? He’d dropped by unexpectedly before, but never this early.
    I threw on a robe and made for the front door. All I had to do was glance through the peephole before I unchained, unlocked, and threw my apartment door open.
    “Amelia!”
    “Hiya, sweetie.”
    “What are you doing here this time of the morning?”
    “Just checking on you. How’re you holding up, sweetie?”
    “Oh, fine. Why?”
    She gave me a long look. “To tell the truth—you looked a little shaky in the office yesterday.”
    “Me?” I glanced at myself in the mirror over the faux-fireplace. “I don’t see anything.”
    She squeezed my hand. “I know when something’s wrong. What is it?”
    I shrugged. “I don’t know if I can really explain it. It’s just…I’m feeling a lot of pressure. This killer…” I shook my head. “He’s seriously twisted. The type who’s likely to repeat. And we’ve got no logical leads. So everyone is expecting me to do my little empathy magic trick and point them in the right direction.”
    “And?”
    I gave it to her straight. “And so far, I’ve come up with nothing. It’s making me crazy. My hands are shaking. I can’t concentrate. I can’t sleep. I’m a nervous wreck.”
    The corner of her mouth turned up. “Good girl.”
    My forehead creased. “Have you been listening to this conversation?”
    “Yes,” she said with a laugh. “And it tells me one thing for certain. You aren’t drinking.” She gave my hand another squeeze. “You’re just having an anxiety attack. Believe me, I’ve been there.”
    “You have?”
    “Of course. Who hasn’t?”
    “Then—what did you do?”
    “Well…if you really want to know…” She picked up her purse and fished around in it for a few moments, finally producing a small smoked plastic bottle. A pill bottle. She opened the lid and popped out a tiny blue pill, then put it in my hand. “Here. Take one of these.”
    I stared at it like it was a dead fish. “What is it?”
    “Valium. Nothing major. But it will ease the strain a little. You’ll feel better.”
    “I don’t know. I don’t want to get started on drugs.”
    “This is harmless.”
    “Will it make me sleepy? I’m going to put in a long day.”
    “Possible. Maybe you should break it in half. See how it goes. It’s easy to do; it’s perforated down the center.”
    “Well…I’ll give it some thought.”
    “You do that.” She headed for the door. “I’ll call you tonight. Maybe after the police dogs let you go, I can pick you up and we’ll do the town.”
    “That would be so wonderful.” And I meant it. I felt better already.
    “Just remember one thing, kiddo.” She turned and placed her index finger against her nose. “Chasing sickos is your job. Not your life. When I pick you up tonight, I expect you to leave all that behind. In fact, every night, whether I’m there or not, I expect you to leave it behind. I know how obsessed you can get. I don’t want to see it happen again. You are a wonderful person. So take care of yourself.”
    I felt my eyes getting itchy and was immediately embarrassed. “Why are you so nice to me?” I asked, my voice breaking.
    “Don’t you remember? My first day on the job. You complimented my plastering technique.” She winked. “See you tonight, girlfriend.”
    She gave me a kiss on the cheek. And then she was gone.
     
* * *
     
    I WAS DRIVING DOWNTOWN when I got the call on my cell phone. It was Chief O’Bannon, who gave me an