Page 60 of D for Dead

Shinnick shook his head. ‘No, Amy. Don’t be fooled into thinking that. Do you honestly believe the murders are about your books? People don’t kill because they’ve read a story or watched a movie; they will already have deep-rooted psychological problems.’

‘I guess.’

‘The person the police are looking for, he – or indeed, she – would still kill if you hadn’t written your books. They would be using a different reason. The feelings of guilt you are experiencing are perfectly normal, but in time you will realise they are not your responsibility.’

‘It feels like it’s because of me.’

‘Why does it feel like it’s because of you?’

‘The killer is targeting me. He sent me a dead rat.’ Amy was aware she was still fidgeting with her hands. She made a conscious effort to stop, knotting her fingers together. ‘And he’s been following me, taking my photograph.’

If Shinnick was surprised by her revelation, he didn’t show it. She didn’t know how much Sullivan had told him. Instead he focused on her body language.

‘I notice you have a tendency to fidget, but keep trying to stop yourself. Why does the fidgeting make you feel uncomfortable?’

‘I don’t know.’

Shinnick nodded. ‘Well it does sound like the killer is fixated on you rather than your books. If it wasn’t you he was copying, what do you think he would do?’

‘I don’t know. Umm, find someone else to target, I guess.’

‘Exactly. You are not responsible for any deaths, despite what your emotions are telling you. I understand the police have provided you with protection.’

‘Yes.’

‘That’s wise.’ Shinnick smiled sympathetically. ‘I know Jake well. He’s a good cop and will look after you.’

A good cop who’d also had reason to see a therapist, Amy thought, but didn’t say the words out loud. She was curious to know what Sullivan’s deal was, but this wasn’t the time or place to try and find out.

He did make her feel safe. There was no denying that.

Yeah, he makes you feel safe, among other things.

She ignored the taunting voice in her head, trying to keep her face carefully blank. Shinnick had already picked up on her fidgeting. She sure as hell didn’t want him to hone in on her embarrassing little crush on Sullivan.

‘Are you comfortable if we talk a little about your background, Amy?’

No. I’m not comfortable with that at all.

‘Sure, of course,’ she lied.

Shinnick probed her gently about her childhood, her relationship with her parents and how their deaths had affected her. It had to be hard, he sympathised, finding yourself at twenty-two alone.

Amy answered his questions as lightly as she could. Despite his relaxed approach, she just wasn’t comfortable talking about this stuff. It was personal and some of it buried deep where it wouldn’t cause pain. She had worked hard to reach her goals, to build a life for herself, and she had been careful to surround herself with a close circle of friends. Raking over the past wasn’t going to help her, as far as she was concerned. Her parents had been good people and she missed them, as she did her grandparents, but they were all gone now and focusing on the gaping hole they had left was only making her feel shitty.

‘When did your nightmares first start?’ Shinnick asked.

He had this easy conversational way of shifting between topics. It was what made him a good therapist, Amy guessed. Shame she wasn’t good at being a patient.

‘I was fifteen,’ she told him. ‘I was involved in a car accident. The dreams started shortly afterwards.’

‘You were involved in a car accident too?’ Shinnick shifted slightly. Amy watched him make a note in the leather-bound book on his lap.

‘Yeah, guess they run in the family,’ she said, her tone more bitter than she’d intended.

Shinnick didn’t react; he simply waited for her to continue.

‘I wasn’t in a car. I was hit by one. I was in a coma for three days, swelling on the brain. You know how it is.’ She screwed up her nose, trying to make light of the situation. ‘Then I woke up and everything was okay.’