Read Online Self-Defense by Jonathan Kellerman - Free Book Online

chicken’s involved, the pig’s
committed. Santa Ana called me to compare notes, and they’re driving down
tomorrow to look at the Shwandt file.”
    “Is it that similar?”
    “Damn near identical. Body position, wound
pattern, decapitation with the head put back in place, shit smeared all over
the body and stuffed in the wounds. But all that came out at the trial; anyone
could have copied it.”
    “Another monster,” I said.
    “The press made such a goddamn celebrity
out of Shwandt, they pump this one up as Bogeyman Two, we’ll really have fun.
Anyway, glad I’m not on it. Keeping busy with some nice old-fashioned
drive-bys.... So how’s Miss Lucy?”
    I cleared my throat.
    “I know, I know,” he said. “You can’t get
into clinical details. Just tell me she’s basically okay. ’Cause she left four
messages at my desk today. Called her back but got some lazy-sounding guy on a
machine.”
    “That’s her brother. I haven’t heard from
her for a couple of days. When’d she call you?”
    “This morning. I was just wondering if
some problem had come up—you are still seeing her—no, scratch that, you
can’t even tell me that, right?”
    “Let’s put it this way,” I said. “If a
patient’s in imminent danger of self-injury, it’s my ethical duty to call the
police and/or appropriate medical personnel. I haven’t called you or anyone
else.”
    “Okay, good. So I’ll try her tomorrow.
How’s everything by you?”
    “Rolling along. How’s Rick?”
    “Cutting and suturing. With our schedules,
there ain’t much quality time. We keep talking vacation, but neither of us is
willing to make plans.”
    “Commitment,” I said. “Men have such a
problem with it.”
    “Bullshit,” he said. “I’m totally
committed. I’m a pig, right?”
    She called on Friday morning. “If you have
time today, I could come in.”
    “After work?”
    “Any time. I’m home.”
    “Sick?”
    “No, I haven’t gone back since the...
fall. Dr. Austerlitz was very nice, by the way. He says I’m fine.”
    “I know. I spoke with him. How’ve you been
sleeping the last couple of nights?”
    “Pretty well, actually, since I spoke to
you. No dream, and I wake up in my bed, so maybe it was just a short-term thing
and I needed to get things off my chest.”
    I recalled the last session. Lots of
questions, no answers. “Did you ever reach Detective Sturgis?”
    “He told you I phoned?”
    “He called me last night wanting to know
if some sort of emergency had come up. Said he hadn’t been able to reach you.”
    “The two of you are close friends, aren’t
you?”
    “Yes, we are.”
    “He talks about you as if you’re some kind
of genius. Did you tell him I was okay?”
    “I didn’t tell him anything.
Confidentiality.”
    “Oh. That’s okay; you can talk to him any
time. I give you permission.”
    “There’d be no reason to, Lucy.”
    “Oh. Okay. All I’m saying is I trust him,
and after what I’ve been through, I’m a good judge of men. Anyway, I reached
him. The reason I wanted to talk to him is just, I’ve been getting some phone
calls over the last few weeks.”
    “What kind of phone calls?”
    “Hang-ups. I’m sure it’s no big thing.”
    “How many?”
    “Couple a week, maybe four or five in all,
mostly when I’m cooking dinner or watching TV. For all I know it’s some
screw-up with the phone lines. Milo didn’t seem that concerned. Said I should
hang up right away, and if it didn’t stop there was a machine I could get from
the phone company that would record the caller’s number.”
    “Sounds like a good plan,” I said, keeping
my voice calm. The killer who’d burned down my house had worked up to it with
harassment. “Would you like to come in at noon?”
    “Oh,” she said, as if she’d forgotten
she’d called to make an appointment. “Sure. Noon would be perfect.”
    She was five minutes late and breezed in
wearing a snug white cotton turtleneck and red bandanna over jeans,