Tolan shook his head. “I’ll manage. But stay alert.” He turned to Blackburn. “And don’t expect much. It may take awhile to get her to trust me.”
“Faith, Doc, that’s what I’ve got. I know you won’t let me down.”
Tolan had no response to that.
9
She didn’t stir when he entered the room. Showed no indication that she even knew he was there. She had stopped shivering, but her back still faced him, her body pulled into that tight fetal ball.
He grabbed a chair from the corner and sat next to her. As he got in close, staring at her frail, hunched shoulders, an odd feeling washed over him. A feeling of… how could he describe it?
Of familiarity.
Which, of course, made no sense. As far as he knew, he’d never seen this woman before in his life. Yet the feeling persisted, like an old memory that weighs on the mind but refuses to surface.
Tolan sat there a moment, watching her, noting the gentle rise and fall of her back as she breathed, wondering what it was that brought that feeling on.
Then, doing his best to push it aside, he said softly, “Good morning.”
The shoulders stiffened. He’d startled her. Not what he’d wanted to do, but he pressed on. “Easy now, I just want to talk.” He paused. “I’m Dr. Tolan. You think you could tell me your name?”
A sound rose from her small figure, an animal-like whimper. Frightened. In pain. But it wasn’t in response to his question. It was an involuntary utterance, as if she were struggling with a nightmare. But he was sure she was wide awake.
She started shivering again, reminding him, oddly enough, of an old dog he’d once had. A black Akita that suffered from Cognitive Dysfunction Syndrome. Canine Alzheimer’s. The dog would sometimes shiver uncontrollably, her head low, tail tucked between her legs, as if she’d forgotten who or where she was and couldn’t find her way home.
Watching Jane Doe shiver, he remembered Blackburn’s insistence that she was a junkie, and wondered if he might be right. Her erratic behavior, coupled with the body spasms, might indicate the beginning stages of withdrawal.
Or maybe, as Simm had suggested, her symptoms were trauma-induced. Severe trauma could produce a number of unpredictable psychological and physical reactions, and this woman had possibly seen or even participated in a brutal murder.
He leaned in closer. “If you can’t or don’t want to tell me your name,” he said, “what do I call you?”
Another whimper. No telling what it meant.
“All right,” Tolan said. “No names for now. Let’s try something different.”
Despite his faith in Simm’s examination, he wanted to check her arms for needle marks, hoping he’d be able to avoid too severe a reaction. He thought about calling Cassie into the room, but decided against it. He sensed no threat from this woman. Not even a hint.
“Dr. Simm did a wonderful job of making sure you’re physically healthy, but there are still a couple things I need to check. So I’m going to have to touch you. Do you understand?”
No sound at all this time.
She was still hugging herself, elbows tucked inward. He waited a moment, then carefully reached over and took hold of her exposed right hand, which gripped her left shoulder so tightly the knuckles were white.
The touch seemed to set off a spark and she jerked away from him, hugging herself even tighter.
Tolan gave her a moment and she relaxed a bit.
“Let’s try one more time,” he said. “I promise I won’t hurt you.”
He was about to reach for her again when a tiny, cracked voice that was barely audible rose from her small frame:
“A lie stands on one leg, the truth on two…”
Tolan froze, that wave of familiarity washing over him again. Who was this woman?
“A lie stands on one leg, the truth on two…”
She spoke quietly, but the tone and tenor of her voice sliced right through him, exposing a raw nerve.
“Two times four is a lie,” she murmured. “Two times four is a lie…”
Finally finding his own voice, Tolan said, “Sometimes it seems as if we live in a world full of lies. And lies cause nothing but hurt. Even the small ones.” He paused. “Has someone lied to you? Hurt you?”
She spoke again, but it came out so low and soft that he couldn’t decipher the words. He wasn’t sure if she had responded to his question or had simply repeated the same phrase.
“Talk to me,” he said. “Tell me who hurt you.”
He reached out again, touching her shoulder, her reaction much less violent this time. She began to move, unfolding her arms, slowly turning toward him.
The wild damp hair fell away from her face as she looked up at him for a brief, lucid moment, her voice soft and full of quiet pain:
“You…” she said. “You hurt me.”
And in that moment, Tolan felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He jumped to his feet, backing away from the bed, and he knew with an unblemished certainty that he had just lost his mind, because the face staring up at him, with its fierce, unflinching eyes—
— was Elizabeth Abagail Tolan.
Abby.
His dead wife.
10
Blackburn saw it coming just moments before it actually happened. Pushing his way out of the observation booth, he moved to the seclusion-room door. “Get this thing open. Now!”
Cassie quickly punched in a security code on the keyboard in front of her and, with a faint beep, the lock unlatched.
Blackburn threw the door wide and—
— Psycho Bitch was already midway through her attack, hands going for Tolan’s throat. For some inexplicable reason, Tolan just stood there, looking like a virgin hunter about to be sacrificed to a hungry lion.
Blackburn shot across the room and swatted her, hard, right across the face. With a howl, she grabbed her nose and fell to the floor, immediately drawing her body inward, curling into a ball, as she half-squealed, half-whispered the now familiar chant, her words coming out in wet, nasal gasps:
“A lie stands on one leg, the truth on two, a lie stands on one leg, the truth on two…”
And now Cassie was there, saying, “Get her on the bed.”
They grabbed her limbs, forcing her out of the ball, hoisting her to the mattress as she bucked and twisted, trying to break free.
A moment later, a security guard burst into the room and joined in.
“A lie stands on one leg, the truth on two, a lie stands on one leg, the truth on two…”
Nose bleeding, she rocked her head from side to side as Cassie worked with quiet efficiency and buckled her into restraints, wrists and ankles, then pulled a belt across her waist. She continued to thrash, blood flying, until Cassie held her head in place and pulled a strap across her forehead.
“Two times four is a lie, two times four is a lie…”
Blackburn thought about Tolan chastising him for calling these people whack jobs. But if a phrase ever described someone accurately, it was that one, because she was about the wackiest whack job he’d ever encountered.
“Two times four is a lie, two times four is a lie, two times four is a lie, two times four is a lie, two times four is a lie…”
After a moment, she finally began to calm down, the words gradually dying on her lips.
Blackburn caught his breath, then turned to find Tolan on the floor, his back against the wall, looking about as shaken as a man can get.
Which surprised him. Until this moment, Tolan had come off as a true professional, a guy in control of himself and his patients. Which was pretty much a miracle when you considered what Tolan had been through over the last year. The guy was a rock.