He shivered. “Living with her. Now that’s a scary thought.”
Krueger lifted himself from the chair and headed for the door, shaking his head. “Serotonergic. Recidivism. Five-dollar words won’t be worth much when Consuelo’s coming at you with murder in her eyes. And a knife in her hand.”
On Sunday evening they brought Consuelo to Anna’s house.
Anna met them on the front porch. Tall vine-covered fences shielded the house from her neighbors, so she couldn’t tell if any of them had noticed her guest’s arrival. Yesterday she’d met with the other homeowners in their isolated subdivision far outside the city. None openly expressed any fear of Consuelo. A few were concerned that she might act as a magnet for the media—especially the tabloid newspapers and TV shows. What about our privacy? Anna told them Krueger had let the media know that Consuelo didn’t want to be interviewed. And if any reporter or photographer chose to ignore that—well, any stranger driving on the tiny subdivision’s single private street was bound to be conspicuous. And the police were only a phone call away.
The two taciturn policewomen escorting Consuelo removed her handcuffs, dropped her battered suitcase, and left. Anna led Consuelo into the house’s large foyer, closed and locked the door, then reactivated the security system.
So now it’s just you and me.
Consuelo peered up at the large golden chandelier suspended from the ceiling. “Your house is so big, and beautiful!” The drab prison uniform she’d worn the last time Anna saw her had been replaced by a flower-print dress.
“Thank you. Let me give you a tour.” After walking through the dining and living rooms they ascended a long staircase to the upper level. The younger woman kept chattering about how beautiful everything looked.
Anna said, “This is my bedroom.” A large king-size bed dominated the room. Consuelo gazed longingly at the clothes in the walk-in closet. “You have so many beautiful dresses!”
“What size do you wear?”
“An eight.”
Anna smiled. “My ‘fat’ dresses, when I’ve fallen off the wagon on my diet, are tens and twelves. But my ‘thin’ ones are eights. If you see any you like, go ahead and wear them tomorrow.” She laughed a little, patting her hips. “Sad to say, none of my eights are very new!”
They walked to the end of the hallway, passing two rooms with closed doors. “This will be your bedroom.”
Consuelo sat down gently on the plush quilt covering the bed. Colorful paintings hung on the walls, and a green vase with fresh flowers stood on a nightstand. A white desk and spacious chest of drawers lined the walls. “It’s a wonderful room!” she said finally, her voice quivering.
Anna nodded sympathetically. Compared to the quarters Consuelo had just left, it was a wonderful room.
As they walked back to the top of the stairway, Consuelo asked, “What’s in those other two rooms?”
Anna’s eyes darted back to the two doors she always kept locked. “They’re just bedrooms. Let’s go downstairs.”
Consuelo gasped as they entered the largest room in the house. “It’s as big as a library!”
Fading sunlight shone through a large bay window. Deeply-stained wood paneling formed the walls of the room, ending in a high cathedral ceiling. A showcase of immaculate couches and chairs was distributed on the thickly-carpeted floor. Tall built-in bookcases stood on either side of an ornate brick fireplace.
Anna closed her eyes briefly, remembering when this room was far less quiet and pristine. When it echoed with high-pitched giggles of delight, and she couldn’t walk more than a few steps before stumbling over a discarded toy.
Shaking herself Anna gestured toward the big-screen television and entertainment center that dominated one wall. “Feel free to use the TV when I’m at work tomorrow. If there’s nothing on you like, I have movies and music on DVD.”
Consuelo wasn’t listening. She was examining the contents of one of the bookcases, running her index finger carefully over the titles. Anna said, “Or read any books you like. Most of them are medical textbooks, but there are some romance novels and—”
Suddenly Consuelo’s finger stopped on a dust jacket. As she stared at it her face turned pale, and she began to tremble. Anna moved closer, and read the title of the book Consuelo was touching. Damn! How could I have been so stupid, to leave those out where she could see them!
Quickly Anna said, “Have you had supper yet?”
Snapping out of her trance, Consuelo murmured, “No.”
“Then let’s go to the kitchen and make something.” Anna forced a smile. “My cooking skills aren’t the greatest, but I’m an expert with a microwave.”
They ate at the kitchen table in silence. Consuelo seemed—distracted. A little sad. But, as far as Anna could tell, not dangerous.
At least, not yet.
After supper they returned to the family room, and quietly read some magazines. Anna peered over the latest American Journal of Psychiatry, watching the younger woman. So far, so good. She’d been afraid that, with Consuelo now outside the controlled, formal patient-physician sessions at the prison, the exaggerated mood swings and hostility her patient had prior to the treatment might return. But no, Consuelo still acted polite, friendly—almost shy. No definite signs of transference. Except, it seemed Consuelo considered Anna the “big sister” she never had.
Anna felt herself becoming more comfortable with Consuelo in their new relationship. The contrast between the surly, vicious woman she’d first met at the prison a year ago and the demure, sweet young lady reading silently a few meters away, was like night and day. Nature had played a cruel trick on Consuelo, giving her intelligence, physical health, even beauty—but ruining it all by also bestowing a biochemical quirk in her brain that ultimately made her life, and the lives of those closest to her, a horrible tragedy.
Although he said it sarcastically, Krueger was right about one thing. Modern medicine was wonderful. Now that the experimental treatment had cured her, Consuelo could be the person she should have been. Anna smiled, thinking it was like Mr. Hyde had turned into Dr. Jekyll.
Then she remembered how that story ended.
Consuelo put down her Reader’s Digest and yawned. “If you don’t mind, Dr. Young, I’d like to go to bed now.”
“That’s fine. By the way, you don’t need to call me ‘Doctor’ anymore. ‘Anna’ will be fine.”
“All right, Dr.—I mean, Anna.”
“I’m due at my office at 8:00 tomorrow morning. If you need me, my office number is programmed into all the phones. I’ll activate the security system if you’re not up before I leave.” Anna briefly described how to work it. “Feel free to go out on the back porch tomorrow. But remember to turn the alarm on when you come in. Also, for now, I think it’d be better if you just stayed in the house, or backyard. Please don’t go out front.”
Consuelo nodded knowingly. “I understand. I don’t want to upset the neighbors.”
“I’m not concerned about them. I don’t want anyone coming to the house and bothering you.”
Consuelo whispered, “Like those reporters. Or—” She left that sentence unfinished. But Anna knew who she was thinking of.
Then Consuelo said, “Is there anything I can do for you tomorrow? Clean the house? Cook supper for you?”