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He eyes her steadily. “And you think Dr. Koskinen planted the suggestion with Ms. Golding that you were abusing her?”
“Not necessarily. But Liisa certainly capitalized on it. Turns out she has resented me all along. And at that point, when Elaine first accused me, Liisa was the only member who hadn’t reached sobriety. She was more bitter about it than I realized. I think she wanted to sabotage me and, by extension, the whole group.”
Rivers is quiet for a few moments. “Sounds like a complicated group,” he finally says.
Holly can only sigh.
He lowers his pen. “Dr. Koskinen’s behavior does sound erratic. But do you think she would go as far as to stage the deaths of two others?”
“I have no idea, Detective Rivers. Truly. But I’ve always struggled to believe that both my clients took their own lives. It never added up with their clinical presentations. And now I find out that Liisa—as vindictive and damaged as she is—was trying to manipulate Elaine and others behind the scenes. And I think JJ knew about it, too.”
He frowns. “Would that be motive enough to kill them?”
“I know how this sounds, Detective. I can’t explain it. Maybe something backfired between Liisa and Elaine? Or maybe Elaine really did overdose and JJ threatened to expose Liisa for pushing her into it? And then Liisa got rid of JJ.” She sighs. “Who knows? But clearly, Liisa has a history of suspect behavior. If she’s capable of stealing pills from a client and trying to blackmail her into silence, then it’s hard to imagine a line she wouldn’t cross.”
Inwardly, Holly cringes. She’s one to talk, having already proven herself capable of vaping DMT in her own office and of interrogating her clients while they’re medicated. What lines am I not willing to cross?
The detective’s face is as impassive as ever, but his tone takes on a slight edge when he asks, “Is there anything else you’ve neglected to share with me?”
“I don’t think so, no.”
He nods. “Obviously, I don’t need to tell you how erratic and impulsive addicts can be. But to go to this extent? Hard to imagine anyone constructing such an elaborate conspiracy simply to cover their tracks.”
There it is again. Conspiracy. The word grates after the way Aaron already turned it against her. “Even if Liisa had nothing to do with either death, it still concerns me that she would disappear in her current state of mind. In my professional opinion, she is not stable or safe.”
“I suppose that’s true,” Rivers says as he rises from his chair. “I’ll see if I can track her down.”
CHAPTER 46
Aaron sits on the couch and stares into the bottom of his empty tumbler of scotch, wondering whether or not to pour himself a second glass. He hasn’t heard from Holly since she walked out on him yesterday evening, carrying the overnight bag that she had arrived with less than thirty minutes before.
He realizes his bluntness and lack of sympathy drove her away, but he couldn’t help himself. Why does she always insist on trying to connect everything? The situation is bad enough as is.
Then again, what else could he expect from her?
Holly’s intransigence has been the bane of their relationship. It led to their first fight, which happened before they were even romantically involved, while Holly was still a junior resident in psychiatry. She had admitted a violent patient from the ER, a biker who was suffering from crystal meth−related psychosis. Despite Aaron’s strong warning against it, Holly had insisted on releasing the patient from his four-point restraints, claiming the man had calmed enough, and that it would be cruel to keep him bound any longer. As soon as the patient was freed, he tried to smash down a door with a chair. It took three security guards—one of whom ended up with a broken nose—to subdue him. Despite Holly’s remorse over the incident, the experience had taught her little. Her obstinance led to further mistakes during her residency and early in her practice. If anything, she is even more stubborn now. And she has never been able to leave well enough alone.
Just as Aaron gets up to refill his glass, the door opens, and Graham trudges into the living room wearing a deep scowl.
Aaron steps over to the counter and pours himself another glass of scotch before asking, “What happened, Graham?”
“Those fuckers canned me.”
Aaron takes a slow breath. “Why?”
Graham helps himself to a beer from the kitchen fridge. “Some bullshit about my attendance. But I have zero doubt Hassan got me fired. That little prick has been up my ass since day one.”
“What about your attendance?”
“I’m not working an assembly line, Dad. I took a couple afternoons off. What do they care? I got my work done on time.”
“Why are you taking time off in the middle of the day from a new job?”
“I had shit to do, OK?” Graham grumbles. “Little did I know that Hassan was just waiting to rat me out.”
Aaron rubs his temples. “It was going to be different this time, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it, Dad. I’m a habitual fuckup. There’s no hope for me.” But his tone sounds bored, not repentant.
