Cassidy blinked, pleased. “You read it?”
“Yes.” She had read it in the hope of finding someone like herself, someone who understood. But the psychic in the book was, indeed, a phony.
“Well, then, you know where I was coming from when Bradley told me that you claim to hear voices,” Cassidy said. “He tries to tell himself that you simply have special powers of observation and that you can pick up tiny details at a crime scene that others miss. But I believe you’re the real deal, Raine, and I want to write about you and your gift. I want to follow you and Bradley and tell the story of bringing justice to the Dellingham family.”
“You don’t understand,” Raine said. “The last thing I want is to have my name show up in one of your books.”
Cassidy softened visibly. “I respect that. I promise I’ll use a pseudonym for you.”
“I don’t think that would work. It would be too easy for bloggers or the tabloids to figure out my identity.”
Cassidy leaned forward earnestly. “I guarantee I’ll preserve your anonymity. Trust me. I have always protected the identities of my sources.”
“No,” Raine said. “I’m sorry, but I just don’t want to get involved in the project.”
For the first time, Cassidy displayed a hint of impatience. Raine could tell that the slight shift in mood worried Niki. She watched her boss with an uneasy expression.
Cassidy drummed her fingers on the black leather sofa cushion and fixed Raine with a determined look. “The problem is Bradley, isn’t it?”
“No,” Raine said.
“I understand.” She flicked a quick glance at Zack and then turned back to Raine. “Bradley explained that you misinterpreted his friendship. Read more into it than was there. Don’t worry about it. These things happen.”
Raine glanced at her watch and jumped to her feet. “You’ll have to excuse me. I’ve got to go to my shop now. Good luck with your writing project.”
Cassidy made no move to rise from the sofa.
Niki was starting to look downright nervous. She blinked several times and cleared her throat. “Uh, perhaps we should leave, Miss Cutler. Don’t forget you’re supposed to call your agent at nine.”
Cassidy hesitated a few seconds longer, clearly annoyed. Raine contemplated throwing her out bodily. It wouldn’t be difficult. She had the advantage of height and weight.
But Cassidy finally seemed to comprehend that the situation had become awkward. She rose reluctantly and held out a hand to Niki.
“Card,” she said brusquely.
Niki hastily opened the leather briefcase and took out a gold card holder. She extracted a business card and placed it in Cassidy’s outstretched palm.
Cassidy handed the card to Raine. “I want you to think about this, Raine. Regardless of the status of your personal relationship, you and Bradley share a very special working partnership, one that enables both of you to make a unique contribution to justice. Please keep my card. When you’re ready to consider my offer, give me a call at that number. It’s my cell phone.”
Raine took the card. It seemed the quickest way to get Cassidy out of the condo.
Zack was already in the foyer, opening the door. Cassidy walked outside very quickly. Niki threw Raine an apologetic grin and followed.
Zack closed the door and looked at Raine. “That is one very determined woman.”
“She thinks the reason I won’t help with the project is because of what happened between me and Bradley,” she said.
“I know.”
“That’s got nothing to do with it. I just don’t want to take the risk that I’ll end up named in her book.”
“You don’t trust her to keep you anonymous?”
“Nope. My cover would start falling apart the first time a blogger got curious.”
“Got a hunch you’re right.”
Raine looked at him. “What’s the next step in your investigation?”
“Well, to begin with, you’re not going in to work today. I assume Pandora can handle the shop?”
“Yes. What are we going to do?”
“I think it’s time we talk to the last people to see Vella Tallentyre alive.”
Thirty-nine
Dr. Baxter Ogilvey looked at Raine across the expanse of a desk piled high with files, papers and scholarly journals. He was the director of St. Damian’s Psychiatric Hospital. Over the course of the year that Vella had been a patient at the hospital Raine had come to like and respect him.
He was a compassionate man steeped in traditional medical and psychiatric practices. She knew that he’d never had a clue as to the true nature of Vella’s mental illness. To fully comprehend her pathology, he would have been forced to believe that Vella possessed psychic senses. Raine knew that he had never been able to make that leap. To the end Ogilvey had considered Vella’s claim of hearing voices a symptom of her illness.
Nevertheless his approach to what had to have been one of his more unusual and challenging cases had been surprisingly open-minded and wide-ranging. It had included nutritional aspects such as vitamin supplements as well as cutting-edge psychotropic medications, traditional talk therapy and, above all, a tranquil environment. Raine knew that she would always be grateful to him. Ogilvey had done what she and Gordon and Andrew had been unable to do on their own in the past year. He had given Vella a degree of mental and emotional peace for the first time in years.
He had clearly been surprised to see Raine and Zack walk into his office a short time before but he had offered condolences again.
“I understand that you are still grieving,” Ogilvey said to Raine. He folded his hands on the desk and studied her through a pair of gold-rimmed glasses. “Sometimes the process makes us demand answers where there are none, at least none that the medical world can provide. You might want to consider consulting a religious or spiritual adviser.”
“We’re not here to ask those kinds of questions,” Raine said quickly. “We want to know more about what happened the night my aunt died.”
Ogilvey began to look troubled. “As I recall, you requested and were given a copy of the file relating to your aunt’s case.”
Zack looked at him. “We know that Vella Tallentyre suffered cardiac arrest shortly before midnight. We also know that extreme resuscitation attempts were made but failed. We’re not questioning the cause of death or your staff’s efforts to revive her.”