“So how did he take the drugs?” Dustin asked.
“It was easy to find. Needle mark right in the crook of his arm.”
“But there was no drug paraphernalia found near him. And it appeared to be a first-time event for Marcus? I heard that he’d been clean for decades.”
The medical examiner nodded again. “No collapsed veins, nothing to indicate he’d relapsed at any point before. Just the one needle mark.”
“And no needles anywhere around him.”
“I work on the human body, Agent Blake. The police are responsible for finding evidence. I can only tell you that Marcus Danby did receive a lethal dose of heroin that caused his heart to fail.”
“No alcohol in his system, or some kind of pain relaxer or antianxiety pill that might have made him want to go further?” Dustin noted that Dr. Wilson had said “received” rather than “shot up” or any other term.
“Nothing. Just heroin.”
Dustin leaned forward. “Do you really believe the man killed himself—accidentally or otherwise?”
“I just look at facts, Agent Blake,” Wilson said.
“Well, thank you for your time. I really have no official standing here, you know,” Dustin told him, getting to his feet.
“No problem.” Wilson rose, too, and Dustin turned to leave.
“Odd, though,” Wilson said in a low voice. Dustin immediately turned back. “Suppose a man who’d been clean for over twenty years suddenly decided he couldn’t take the pressure anymore, that he had to feel the high one more time... Suppose that happened. He was off by himself. He could’ve had a stash in the woods. But...if it were me, I would’ve shot up between the toes, done it somewhere hard to find. That way—if I wasn’t planning on killing myself, and I don’t think Marcus was—it would be much harder for anyone to see.” He paused. “Addicts know about these things, these little tricks.”
Dustin studied the medical examiner for a moment. “Thanks again for your time,” he said. “This has been very informative.”
“Don’t mention it. I don’t even remember that you were here.”
Matt Dougal, Sean Modine, Nick Stevens, Joey Walters and Brent Lockwood were scheduled to be in Olivia’s early group that morning. They’d be staying all day, helping out at the stables and joining Mariah’s tour and campout that night. Olivia was gratified to be working with everyone in this group.
When the boys from Parsonage House had first started doing group with Brent, they’d giggled behind the young man’s back, making fun of his Down syndrome. Brent had quickly proven how adept he could be with horses; he’d shown them nothing but unconditional acceptance and had beaten the heck out of them in a game of Pictionary following a session.
They’d learned a lot from working with Brent. She believed Brent had learned to be himself, discovering that he could have fun with others—and his parents had learned that they didn’t need to be everywhere with him, protecting him.
As Brent had once told the boys, “I know you’ll like me or you won’t. But if you don’t accept me the way I am, well, I may have Down syndrome, but that means you’re the ones who have a mental handicap.”
Olivia remembered the day he’d said that. Sean had grinned and given him a punch on the shoulder. “I guess we have to like to you ’cause we’re cool dudes—and so are you.”
Arriving at the office, Olivia went to her desk in the long room behind Aaron’s office, where the therapists kept their notes and records. Mason was at his desk, working away at his computer. “Hey,” he said, not looking up.
“Hi, Mason.” She set her purse under her desk and opened her own computer. She needed to finish some notes on Matt. She didn’t intend to embellish anything, but she wanted his father to know how well he’d been doing in his interactions with others at the Horse Farm. He’d been a withdrawn, sullen kid at first.
She’d just started when Mason got up and walked around to her desk, perching on the edge.
“So where were you last night?”
“Pardon?”
“Checking out the new digs? Personally, I like the house you already have better. So, what do you think you’ll do with Marcus’s place?”
“Mason, I haven’t even begun to think about it.”
“I don’t think everyone’s happy the house went to you,” he said, grinning.
“We’re therapists, Mason. We’re not supposed to be gossips!”
“Yeah, yeah.” His grin was even wider now. “We’re human.” He glanced around, then bent low to whisper to her. “I think Aaron was planning to go and talk to you about the house last night.”
“Aaron can talk to me about the house anytime he wants. I was just as stunned as everyone else, and I’m not surprised he feels the same way.”
“He wants to talk in private.” Mason raised one shoulder in a careless shrug. “Actually, Aaron seemed okay about it. But guess who might just have it in for you?”
“Mason! Stop it.”
“Sandra,” he told her, leaning closer still. “I was eavesdropping. Well, I really couldn’t help it. They didn’t know I was still here. She said it was too bad you hadn’t taken up drugs and OD’d.”
He straightened suddenly. They’d both heard footsteps. But then Mason seemed to relax; it was just Mariah. “I’m so excited,” she said. “Everyone’s coming tonight! Except for Sydney—he says we never should leave the whole place entirely deserted. It was one thing for Marcus’s funeral, but that was only for a few hours and we were close by. So—” she counted off the names on her fingers “—it’ll be Brent, Sean, Matt, Nick, Joey, Drew, you guys, plus Aaron and Sandra. Oh, Liv, pitch in with me on the stories, will you?”
“Sure, if you want,” Olivia said.
Mariah shrugged. “Oh—I forgot. And the cool FBI agent. He seems to have a thing for you, Olivia.”
“I’m just his therapist!”
Mariah nudged Mason and they both laughed.
“Therapists are human, Olivia. I already told you that. Right, Mariah? Hey, you think every therapist out there lives a perfect life? Come on, you won’t be this guy’s therapist forever.”
“Are you telling me you haven’t even thought about sleeping with him?” Mariah asked.
Olivia frowned but didn’t respond.
“Don’t worry, I’ve learned to live with rejection. I know you’re not sleeping with me. But, seriously, you want to turn into some old maid? You’ve got to sleep with someone,” Mason said.
Olivia groaned and let her forehead fall onto her desk. “Please, guys, could we have a little decorum here?”
Mariah punched Mason again. “Yeah, get up. Mama Cheever’s on the way. I could tell the click, click, click of that woman’s boots anywhere.”
The two of them stood quickly, going to their separate desks. Olivia returned her attention to her notes. Sandra poked her head in. “The boys are here, Olivia. Sydney has them stashing their gear for the day. They’ll be ready as soon as you are.”
“Just finishing a report on Matt, for his dad.”
Sandra frowned. “You’ll let me see it before you send it?”
“If you wish.”
“We need to be very careful these days, you know.”
“Yes, I know. I’m being very objective here, Sandra—not exaggerating Matt’s accomplishments, but not minimizing the truth, either.”