FAMILY FALLACIES (The Kate Huntington mystery series #3) (3 page)

“Kate, I’m sorry, I
just couldn’t wait until this afternoon. Can I take you out to lunch?”

“Uh, I brought my lunch
today. We can talk for a little bit while I eat.” It was against the code of
ethics for a therapist to socialize with clients, and Kate wasn’t about to
encourage this woman to start thinking of her as a friend.

Tammy followed her into
her office. Rather than going to the sitting area in the corner where she
normally talked to clients, Kate sat down behind her desk and made a show of unwrapping
her sandwich. She had no intentions of eating while dealing with a client in
crisis, but she wanted to make the point that Tammy was crossing a line by
intruding on her lunch break.

As soon as the woman
was seated next to Kate’s desk, she put her face in her hands and burst into
tears. “Mark wants a divorce. I just know he does.”

“Did he say that?”

“No, but he said I was
driving him crazy and he had to get away from me.” Tammy looked up, streaks of
mascara on her cheeks. “I was just trying to get him to understand that he
needs to spend more time with me.” Her voice broke on another sob.

Kate was not the least
bit surprised that the man found his wife’s moodiness crazy-making. She
suspected, however, that Tammy was overreacting.

“So what happened after
he said he had to get away from you?”

“He left for work.”

“Did he give any
indication that he didn’t intend to come home again?”

“No,” Tammy said in a
small voice. “He... said he’d be late tonight.”

“So maybe he just meant
he had to get away temporarily before you got into a bigger fight.”

“Well, the big fight
had already happened.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, we’d been
yelling at each other for awhile when he... slapped me.”

Kate sat forward in her
chair. This was a whole other kettle of fish. “Has he done that before?”

“Only once. A long time
ago. I... uh, threw something at him. I wasn’t really aiming at him, but my
dumb luck, it hit him. And then he... Well, he didn’t exactly hit me. He
grabbed my arm and shook me.”

If that was truly all
that had happened, did one grab and shake plus a slap, over a five-year
marriage, make Mark Wingate a true wife-batterer? Or was he just an average guy
who was having difficulty dealing with his wife’s volatile moods? Although
there were parts of Tammy’s personality that Kate found endearing, she had
trouble imagining anyone being able to tolerate the woman 24/7.

“Okay, Tammy, this is
what I would like to do. I want to schedule a couples’ session for the two of
you so we can hash this out.”
And so I can figure out if this guy’s a
wife-beater.

Kate handed the client
a tissue. “In the meantime, I think you could both use a little emotional
space. I would suggest that you
not
try to force him to pay attention to
you. I plan to address with him the fact that you need more of his time and
attention. He may hear it better coming from a third party.”

After Kate had ushered
the young woman out of her office, she put Tammy’s file in her briefcase.
Although she sometimes worked on insurance forms in the evenings, she rarely took
other aspects of her work home. The only way you could stay sane yourself,
doing this kind of intense work with people, was to compartmentalize.

But tonight, after Edie
was in bed, Kate was going to sit down with Tammy’s file and give some serious
thought to her diagnosis. It was looking more and more like the woman might
have borderline personality disorder. The neediness and volatile moods, the
rather distorted perception of reality and lack of awareness of interpersonal
boundaries, all were signs of that disorder. And Tammy certainly had the family
history that could cause it–a physically and sexually abusive father and a cold
and controlling mother, both of them hard-core alcoholics.

Borderlines were tough
cases to work with, but Kate was usually able to see beneath the annoying
symptoms, and connect with the more loveable but very wounded child inside the
demanding, volatile adult.

She glanced at her
watch.
Damn!
Only ten minutes left in her lunch break, and she had a
phone call she absolutely had to return. Kate wolfed down half a sandwich as
she punched in the number on her desk phone.

~~~~~~~~

T
he following Tuesday
was Kate’s first long day, when she stayed until seven-thirty to accommodate
clients who worked nine to five. Her last session of the evening was with the
Wingates. It produced mixed results.

Mark was definitely a
Type A who spent way more time at work than at home, but he struck Kate as a
nice guy who genuinely loved his beautiful but intense wife.

Kate explained to him
that his wife’s roller-coaster moods were mostly about the feelings being
dredged up from the past, as she attempted to deal with the abuses she had
suffered. Mark seemed to understand that, nodding sympathetically as he held
his wife’s hand.

But Kate wasn’t sure he
got the message when she told him that Tammy needed more than pretty baubles
from him. Kate was fairly confrontive with him, emphasizing how his
inattentiveness was rubbing salt in the wounds from his wife’s childhood, when
her parents had essentially met none of her needs.

He listened politely, a
serious expression on his face, but Kate had no idea to what degree her words
had sunk in.

K
ate was having an
intense Friday. What had she been thinking when she had scheduled her two
toughest cases back to back?

Her ten o’clock session
with Tammy had not gone well. The benefits from the couples’ session two weeks
ago had been short-lived. The Wingates’ marriage had deteriorated into a series
of screaming matches that often ended with flying objects and an exchange of
slaps. Kate had strongly recommended couples counseling. She had also suggested
that Tammy consider a temporary separation before the violence escalated
further. Tammy had been offended that Kate would even suggest such a thing.

Then Audrey had come
close to having a full-blown anxiety attack during her session, while
recounting the flashbacks she was having. The face was still fuzzy but Audrey
was convinced, based on the shape of his body and the way he moved, that the
abuser was either her father or her uncle. Suddenly she had started trembling
and, in a child-like voice, had said, “He keeps saying he has a lollipop for
me, and I’m so scared.” Kate had held Audrey’s hand to ground her, repeating
over and over that she was safe now, until the anxiety had finally subsided.

Kate was actually
relieved when Pauline informed her that her one o’clock client had cancelled.
She decided to take a walk. While eating her sandwich, she pulled on the
sneakers that she kept in her bottom desk drawer for just such rare
opportunities.

The mid-September day
was gorgeous. Looking forward to these few weeks of Indian summer was all that
made the oppressive heat and humidity of August bearable for Marylanders. Kate
ended up walking all the way to Mac’s Place. She waved at him through the plate
glass window, then strolled into the park across the street, in front of the
Towson courthouse.

As it so often did
these days, Kate’s mind turned to Skip. She was trying to figure out how she
felt about the man, but the intensity of the physical attraction was making
that difficult. Did she love him, or was it mostly lust she was feeling? After
all, she had been celibate for a year and a half, so naturally she would be
getting... well,
hungry
.

Her mind’s eye conjured
up an image of Skip–soft hair flopping down into hazel eyes, easy-going grin,
broad shoulders and muscular chest slimming down to narrow hips. She sucked in
her breath and bit her lower lip.
Hungry, hell, I’m starving!

Skip’s personality was
a good complement to hers and she felt like she could be herself around him.
But sometimes she would catch him looking at her with a longing expression on
his face that made her a bit uncomfortable. Were those looks just a sign of his
attraction to her? Or were they indicators of a deeper unhealthy neediness? She
definitely did not want or need a neurotic man in her life!

She wished she could
talk about Skip with Rob. He was always her best sounding board. Her chest hurt
at the thought that she couldn’t discuss this important, indeed life-changing
issue with her closest friend.

Wait a minute. Liz!
That’s who I can talk to about Skip.
As Kate headed back toward her office,
she took out her cell phone to call Liz and set up a lunch date.

By the end of the day,
Kate was exhausted. She’d only been back to work a few weeks and hadn’t
completely adjusted yet to the new routine. Even working just three days a week
was hard since she had Edie to take care of after she got home.

Not to mention you’re
pushing forty, sweetie,
she reminded herself, as she was trying to decide
which of the insurance forms on her desk she was willing to take home over the
weekend.

Pauline knocked lightly
on her half-open door. She was holding an envelope in her hand. “Kate, someone
must have dropped this on my desk while I was in the ladies’ room,” the older
woman said.

She handed over a
sealed envelope that had KATE on the outside in big block letters. Kate opened
it. Written on the single sheet of paper inside were two sentences, also in big
block letters.

When Kate’s face paled,
Pauline said, “What? What is it?” Kate put the note down on her desk and turned
it around so the receptionist could read it.

Plump and gray-haired
Pauline blurted out, “Shit, Kate!”

“My sentiments
exactly.” Kate’s voice was grim. “Has Sally left for the day?”

Pauline nodded.

“Can you check to see
if she has any time in her schedule on Monday to meet with me?” Kate hated to
think what her boss’s reaction would be.

A few minutes later,
Kate came out of her office with only the note in her briefcase. Having lost
all motivation to do paperwork over the weekend, she had locked the insurance
forms in her file cabinet.

“Sally has a hole in
her schedule at two on Monday,” Pauline told her.

“Fill it with my name.
I’ll call her over the weekend but she’s going to want to see the note and
discuss it in more detail.”

Pauline patted her arm.
“Try to have a good weekend, Kate.”

~~~~~~~~

D
own the hall, the
hustle and bustle in the law offices of Bennett, Stockton and Franklin was only
beginning to wind down for the weekend. Not that a law office is ever
completely closed. Lawyers usually put in fifty to sixty-hour weeks, once they
reach partner level. Associates pretty much live at the office.

The receptionist had
gone for the day so Kate headed directly for Rob’s office. His door was ajar.

Kate stuck her head in
the door. Rob was standing at his desk, rummaging through papers. Glancing up,
he said, “Come on in, Kate... Damn, I can’t find that phone message.”

When her grim
expression registered belatedly, he looked up again. “What’s wrong?”

She started to head for
the chair in front of his desk but then changed course, walking straight into
his arms instead. Trying not to cry, she told him how the note had arrived and
what it said, while he gently patted her back.

After a minute, she
stepped away, shaking her head. “It’s probably hitting me harder than it should
because I’ve had such an intense week. Must be a full moon or something.
Everybody’s falling apart on me at once.”

Rob steered her to his
desk chair. “Can I see the note?”

She took it out of her
briefcase. He held it by the edges and read it, saying the words softly out
loud. “She lies, you know. She’s tearing us apart with her lies and your
helping her.”

“
You’re
is
misspelled,” Kate said lamely.

Rob perched on the
corner of his desk, laying the note down next to him. “Do you know who might
have sent this?”

Kate shook her head.
“Not a clue. I’m going to meet with Sally on Monday. Maybe if we go over my
cases we’ll be able to figure it out.”

Rob started to say she
should call the police, then realized that wasn’t feasible. She couldn’t
violate client confidentiality and give the police any names unless she was
sure who had sent the note. And maybe not even then. The message wasn’t overtly
threatening.

“What do you want to
do?” he asked.

“Besides change
careers?” she said, only half joking.

“Yeah, besides that.”

“Not much I can do. Can
you think of anything?”

“Not really. You might want
to call the police, just to file a report. In case anything else happens.”

“Maybe. I’ll have to
wait until I talk to Sally. See if she wants to do that.”

Rob invited her to come
over to the house for dinner and some moral support. But Kate was too exhausted
to think about going out that evening. She thanked him for the thought.

Halfway home, Kate was
wishing she had accepted Rob’s invitation. After Maria retired to her
third-floor rooms and the baby was in bed, the evening would be long and
lonely.

She pulled up in front
of her house but she didn’t get out of the car. Digging her cell phone out of
her purse, she called Skip. When he answered, she said without preamble, “If I
ask you to come over this evening, do you promise not to take advantage of my
weakened state?”

She heard him chuckle.
“I try not to make promises I’m not sure I can keep, but I’ll make every effort
to restrain myself.”

Kate didn’t say
anything.

“You okay?”

“No.”

“What’s the matter?” he
asked, alarm in his voice.

“I’d rather not get
into it over the phone. I just need... a friend.”

“Be there in fifteen
minutes.”

When Skip arrived, Kate
introduced him to Maria. He chatted with her in Spanish as she herded them
toward the kitchen. Kate could only make out a word here and there but she got
the gist of it.

“She’s right. There’ll
be plenty. Cooking’s not in her job description, but she took it over in
self-defense,” Kate said, with a rueful smile. For some reason she had never
successfully mastered the skill of making food palatable. “She always cooks for
an army on Friday nights, so I can eat the leftovers over the weekend.”

“What’s the matter?”
Skip asked quietly, resisting the urge to take her hand.

“It can wait until
after dinner,” Kate said. Now that he was here, she felt much less need to tell
him about the note. She would rather forget about it for a little while.

Skip nodded. Maria was
already setting another place at the table next to where Edie was sitting in
her highchair, happily smearing applesauce on her chubby cheeks.

“
Gracias, Maria,
”
Skip said as he sat down. He tickled the baby’s neck and was rewarded with a
giggle and a big grin.

Kate helped Maria bring
several fragrant bowls and platters to the big oak table. As they ate, Skip
asked about the ingredients in the dishes he didn’t recognize and translated
Maria’s replies for Kate.

She smiled at him.
“Most of the time these days I have no clue what I’m eating. I just relax and
enjoy.”

Kate suspected Skip and
Maria were discussing more than just the meal. She heard the word
bebé
several times and the word she thought meant bed. Sure enough, when they had
eaten their fill, Maria wiped the baby’s face and hands, then scooped her out
of her highchair. “You tire, Kate. I put
la niñita
bed. You talk
Señor
Skip.”

“Tire-
d
,” Kate
gently corrected her English. “Thank you for putting the baby
to
bed,
Maria.
Gracias
.” Kate leaned over and kissed Edie’s cheek, then snuggled
the child’s neck. “Goodnight, little one.”

As the stout little
woman bustled out of the room with her babbling burden, Skip stood up and
started clearing the table. “You don’t need to do that,” Kate protested.

He ignored her and
carried the stacked dishes to the sink. “Dishwasher dirty or clean?”

“It should be empty.”
Kate began putting plastic wrap over the leftovers.

When the dishes were
rinsed and loaded, Skip said, “You
are
going to tell me what’s going on
eventually, aren’t you? The suspense is killing me.”

“Come on in the living
room.”

Kate motioned him to
the sofa as she pulled the note out of her briefcase, then handed it to him.
She sat down in an armchair.

He read the note. SHE
LIES YOU KNOW. SHE’S TEARING US APART WITH HER LIES AND YOUR HELPING HER. Not
sure where to put it, he opted for sliding it back into her open briefcase on the
floor.

“You have any idea who
sent it?”

Kate shook her head.
“I’m probably overreacting. It’s been a long and stressful week. It’s not like
the note’s really threatening. I guess it’s just... disturbing, is all.”

“I’ll say it’s
disturbing,” Skip said. “They won’t be able to do anything about it but you
should probably file a police report, just in case.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty
much verbatim what Rob said.”

Skip’s forehead
wrinkled as he attempted to suppress a frown.

Kate noticed the
aborted expression. “Look, I’m too damned tired tonight to deal with...,” she
started to snap at him, then stopped herself. She wasn’t sure it was a good
idea to acknowledge out loud the subtle tension between the men in her life.
“He works right down the hall from me,” she continued, in a more matter-of-fact
tone. “I wanted his legal advice, and some emotional support.”

Then her voice lost all
of its annoyed edge and dropped to a whisper. “But when I started for home,
I...”

Skip had stood up and
was walking over toward her chair. Squatting down beside it, he said, “I’m
honored, Kate, that you wanted my advice and support as well.”

She stared at him.
“Damn it, Skip, how is it that you always manage to say just the right thing?”

He gave her one of his
slow, easy grins. “It’s a gift.”

After a beat, he added,
“What can I do to help, Kate?”

“I don’t know. Well,
actually I do, but everything I can think of involves touching. It’s already
helped a lot just having you here.”

“Darlin’, first and
foremost, I
am
your friend. I will
always
be here when you need
me.”

Kate gave him a small
smile. “Thank you for putting up with me.”

They decided to watch a
video. Kate apologized that all she had were sappy chick flicks. “When I watch
TV, I want total escapism.”

“Sappy chick flick
works for me. Here, you stretch out on the sofa. I’ll take the chair.”

Awhile later, she heard
Skip calling her name. “Kay-ate, oh, Kate.” She opened her eyes and realized
she had drifted off. The movie’s credits were rolling.

He was grinning at her
from the chair. “I’d come over and carry you to your bed, but I’m assuming that
would be a bad idea.”

Her mind flashed back
to her walk that afternoon, which now felt like several days ago. What had she
been thinking? If this man was acting neurotic occasionally, it was because
she
was driving him crazy.