All I Want For Christmas Page 4

  Still, she’d be careful in the future. She didn’t want to give him any mistaken ideas. He was not her type. And even if he was, she wouldn’t become involved. Dealing with Rebecca and Timmy and stopping a killer were more than enough complications for her to handle.

  Friday, December 17

  12:10 p.m.

  SUSAN CHEWED her bottom lip and stared at the file that was open in front of her. So where had Gabriel Hornsby been on Wednesday, December 15, at approximately 3:00 p.m., the estimated time of Maggie Henderson’s death?

  Finding out had seemed such an easy task last night when she’d insisted the obstinate detective let her try. Now, after a morning of searching her overtaxed brain for ideas, Susan was still at a loss. How should she proceed?

  She’d tried the obvious, calling under an assumed name and requesting a Wednesday afternoon appointment If Gabriel was in his office on Wednesdays, she’d have had something to go on. He wasn’t. According to the receptionist, Wednesdays were his afternoon off

  The doubts had surfaced then, suffocatingly strong. Had the brilliant surgeon left his office and driven away in his luxury car in search of a young woman to kill?

  No, it was too bizarre. Gabriel was disturbed, but not a psychotic killer. She was certain he would have an alibi. The best way to find out would be to simply ask him where he’d been Wednesday afternoon.

  She’d have her chance in about ten minutes. Gabriel had called an hour ago and asked for a change in his regular appointment time, explaining that he’d be out of town next Monday and he couldn’t wait another week to talk. Apparently things were heating up at home.

  She looked up as her secretary stuck his head through the door.

  “Some prankster called while you were with your last patient. He wouldn’t give his name, just said to tell you Santa needs to cancel his two o’clock appointment. He won’t get through at the department store today until three. He said he’d come by your place then.”

  Irritation knotted in Susan’s stomach. Fortunately, she had little time to fume before the front door squeaked open and Gabriel Hornsby stepped inside.

  “I hate to ask,” Bobby said, lowering his voice so that it didn’t carry to the front waiting room, “but would it be all right if I leave now? Since we’re usually out of here by noon on Fridays, I asked my girlfriend for lunch.”

  “Linda? I thought you’d broken up with her.”

  “Yeah, well, we’re seeing each other again, trying to work things out.”

  “Good for you. And, of course you can take off a little early. I’m leaving myself as soon as this session is over.”

  “Thanks. Have a nice weekend.” With that he was out the door of her office and greeting Gabriel in the reception area.

  Susan took a minute to get her thoughts together. No use to look over last week’s session. She’d already examined all of Dr. Hornsby’s records, searched them warily for any indication his paranoia had swung out of control.

  Play it cool, she reminded herself, walking over to open the door and usher him inside. He was a man with serious problems. The questions of the day were how serious and where was he on Wednesday afternoon. She stopped and adjusted the thermostat. The office was suddenly icy cold.

  Chapter Three

  The session with Gabriel was barely past the have-a-seat stage when the impeccably dressed surgeon exploded with his bad news. When he’d arrived home from work yesterday, his mansion on State Street had been virtually cleaned out. His wife had left him a bed, a TV and a few odd pieces of furniture she’d never liked. And a note saying she’d call when Gabriel had calmed down enough to talk rationally.

  “Why don’t you tell me what prompted this?” Susan said, looking Gabriel squarely in his dark, troubled eyes.

  “There’s not a lot to tell. I caught a plane to Chicago. I was going to surprise her but it was me who got the surprise.” His nostrils flared in anger and his hands knotted into fists. “There was a man in her hotel room.”

  “A man?”

  “Yeah. A young fellow half my age. Running around in one of those hotel robes. I couldn’t believe it. I just stood there with my mouth open.”

  Susan jotted a few observations into her notebook. She’d never seen Gabriel as upset as he was now. “Okay, let me get this straight. You went to Chicago to surprise your wife with a visit. Or was it because you thought she might be with another man? And when you got there, your suspicions were confirmed.”

  “No, I went there to surprise her. I told you that. I told her that.” His voice rose emotionally. “She came up with some ridiculous story about her partner’s reservations being fouled up and said he was planning to sleep on the couch in her suite.”

  “But you didn’t believe her?”

  “I wasn’t born yesterday. I’m not a fool and I won’t be treated like one.”

  “I suppose you told her that as well.”

  “For starters.” He clasped shaky fingers into a knot and burrowed them into his lap.

  “Take a deep breath, Gabriel, and try to relax.” Susan got up and walked to the table in the corner and poured a glass of cold water from the crystal pitcher. Without speaking, she set it on the table beside him.

  His large hand wrapped around the glass, but he didn’t pick it up. “I trusted her,” he said.

  Susan didn’t point out that he was lying to himself and to her. He’d never trusted his wife. Eventually, he’d have to accept his responsibility in all of this, but right now she had to help him deal with the emotions that were tearing him apart.

  “Have you talked to Sherry since the incident?”

  “Yes. She called this morning.” Gabriel leaned over, burying his head in his hands. When he looked up, his eyes had a glossy sheen. “She’ll never take me back. I know it. She’s in love with someone else.” He unclasped his hands and beat a fist against his palm. “But he won’t have her. I’ll kill her before I’ll lose her to another man.”

  Susan’s stomach turned inside out. She struggled for a deep breath as Jack’s words screamed in her head.

  A patient over the edge. A firecracker ready to blow.

  Gabriel squirmed in his chair. “No, I didn’t mean that,” he said, as if reading the suspicion in Susan’s face. “I could never hurt Sherry. No matter what she’s done, I love her. But when I think of her with another man—”

  Anger reddened his face and extended the veins in his neck and forehead, but tears glistened in his eyes.

  Susan felt his pain. The past tortured Gabriel, filling him with insecurities, robbing him of the chance to be happy, the chance to have a normal relationship. But had it created a killer, one who could tie a scarf around the neck of an innocent woman and squeeze until the last breath escaped her body?

  Susan’s instincts shouted no. But her mind couldn’t ignore the possibility. “When did you fly to Chicago?” she asked, praying his answer would be Wednesday afternoon.

  “Tuesday night. I would have called you before this, but I went nuts for a while. I haven’t been able to eat or sleep or even work since then. I had to cancel two operations scheduled for today.”

  Susan imagined Gabriel’s unsteady hands wielding a scalpel, and shuddered at the thought. “I don’t think you should try to work until your emotions are more settled, Gabriel.”

  “No, I couldn’t.” He got up and paced the office, finally stopping in front of the window that overlooked a wooden fence and the top of the house next door. “Have you ever gone crazy like that, Dr. McKnight, wanted to strike out at someone…at anyone who crosses your path?”

  “I’ve been upset.”

  “Upset! What I feel is much more than upset.” He turned, his gaze locking with hers. “Now I know how family members feel when someone they love dies while I’m operating on them. If there’s no one else to blame, blame the doctor who did nothing to help.”

  Blame the doctor. The words settled like lead in Susan’s chest, and the walls of her office drew close around her. Like a ca
ge with no way of escape. She struggled to calm her racing pulse so that she could think clearly.

  Gabriel Hornsby was a respected surgeon. He had a few personal and emotional problems, but he was not a psychotic killer. He needed her help, not her fear. “Sit down, Gabriel, and tell me what it was like for you when you saw the man in Sherry’s room.”

  “It hurt, deep inside me. I’ve never known such pain.” He left the window and walked across the room. With one hand in his pocket, he reached out with the other to close and lock the office door.

  Panic rushed through Susan’s veins as the lock clicked into place. “Open the door, Gabriel, and don’t do anything foolish. No matter what’s happened between you and Sherry, there’s hope. We need to talk about it.”

  “Of course, that’s why I’m here. But all the same I’d like this door locked. I don’t want that nosy secretary of yours to come strolling in on some pretense or another. I don’t trust him. I’m not sure I trust you either, Dr. McKnight, not anymore.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You talked to Sherry. You must have known she was seeing another man, and yet you let me go on believing the problems were mine.”

  “Come back and sit down,” she said, her voice as calm as she could make it.

  Instead he leaned against the closed door. “I love Sherry, Dr. McKnight. I have to make her see that. You have to help me. You have to tell me everything.”

  “I’ve been honest with you, Gabriel. Now sit back down and be honest with me.” As soon as he moved, she walked over and unlocked the door, opening it a crack. “Why did you really fly to Chicago?”

  “Okay, I’ll level with you. A friend told me Sherry was seeing someone else.”

  Gabriel fell back into his story, and she let him vent for a few minutes before she interrupted. “Tell me, Gabriel, when did you return from Chicago?”

  “Wednesday morning. I was on the first flight out. I had seen enough by then.”

  “And what did you do when you arrived back in New Orleans?”

  “What does that have to do with anything? We’re discussing the problems with my wife, problems you are supposed to be helping me solve.”

  She didn’t give in. “What did you do Wednesday afternoon after you got off the plane?”

  “I rode around for a while.”

  “By yourself?”

  “Of course, by myself.” He leaned closer. “You know, you’re starting to sound more like a trial lawyer and less like a psychologist.” His voice sounded almost threatening.

  But he was right. And she didn’t like what she’d discovered. She’d wanted to protect Gabriel, but he had made it impossible. At this point she had no choice but to give his name and at least part of his case information to Jack.

  The remainder of the session was nonproductive. Gabriel was sullen and argumentative, and her mind was restless. She tried to picture the man in front of her as a cold-blooded killer. The image didn’t jell.

  She and Gabriel were both relieved when the session concluded.

  “I trusted you with my past, my present and my future, Dr. McKnight. You let me down.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way, Gabriel. But perhaps you’d be happier seeing a different psychologist. I can recommend one if you like, and if you provide a written request, I can forward your records to the therapist of your choice.”

  “No, from now on I’ll take care of things my way. By Christmas, my problems will be settled, one way or another.”

  By Christmas you’ll be begging for mercy.

  The words from the note echoed in Susan’s mind as Gabriel marched out the door. Strangled bodies, patients she suspected of murder, a detective who dressed like Santa Claus. Why wait for Christmas? She’d beg now if it would do any good.

  3:15 p.m.

  “MISSY SIPPEN SAID that if you don’t get toys from Santa, you get a lump of coal. So my question is, if we don’t believe in Santa, is he going to leave coal in our stocking? And,” Rebecca rolled her big blue eyes to make her point, “are we even going to hang stockings?”

  Susan pushed back a loose wisp of hair. Her question was, Why didn’t Missy Sippen’s family move to the North Pole? She stooped and picked up the crumbs from a chocolate-chip cookie before collapsing to the couch.

  “Of course you can hang a stocking on Christmas Eve, Rebecca. That is a charming Christmas tradition.”

  “Does charming mean stupid?”

  “No, charming means delightful…pleasant.”

  “Good, huh?”

  “Good,” Susan agreed. “So, what did you study at school today?”

  “Same old first-grade stuff. Reading and spelling and math.” Rebecca plopped down on the sofa next to Susan. “I can spell Santa Capital S, small a-n-t-a. And I wrote a story about Santa coming to our house the other night. My teacher loved it. She said I have a wonderful imagination. I guess that means I’m charming.”

  “It definitely means you’re charming.” Charming, sweet and inquisitive and almost more than Susan could handle. It wasn’t surprising Rebecca had spent her early years with a mother who was outgoing, spontaneous and full of fun. The complete opposite of her Auntie Mom.

  The doorbell interrupted Susan’s thoughts, and she jumped from the couch. It was about time the detective showed up. She glanced through the peephole. All she could see of the cop was the red Santa cap perched atop his mass of dark hair. She didn’t try to hide her irritation as she opened the door.

  Not that it mattered. Jack smiled and tipped his Santa hat as if she’d greeted him with a big smile. Rebecca and Timmy scooted past her, squealing with delight.

  “Hi, Rebecca.” Jack gave her a high five and then bent low and picked up Timmy as naturally as if he’d known him all his life. “And how are you, big boy?”

  Timmy pulled the red felt hat from Jack’s head and put it on his own, twisting his lips in a frown as the border of white fur fell over his eyes and tickled his nose.

  “Where’s your Santa suit?” Rebecca asked, giving Jack’s jeans and sweatshirt a disapproving once-over.

  “It’s too hot for fur,” he said, bending down to tweak her nose. “So I just wore the hat.”

  “And how are you, Dr. McKnight?”

  “I’m not fine. Detective Carter and I have to talk,” she said, taking Rebecca’s hand and leading her to the living room. “I want you and Timmy to play quietly for a few minutes.”

  “But it’s Friday,” Rebecca protested. “That’s our special day with you. You promised yesterday that we could go to the park this afternoon. I already have my skates ready to go.”

  “Go to the park. Go to the park. I’m gonna climb to the top of the slide and come zoooooooming down.” Timmy accompanied his words with sound effects and body language to show exactly how he was going to descend from the slide.

  Susan glanced at the clock on the mantel. It was already 3:30. By the time she finished her discussion with the detective, it would be too late to drive to Audubon Park and give the children any time to play before dark settled over the city.

  Her annoyance with the detective intensified. If he’d met with her at two o’clock as she’d asked, it wouldn’t have interfered with the quality time she tried to give the kids. She rubbed a spot just over her right temple where a nagging pain was digging into its favorite niche and threatening a long stay.

  A killer was on the loose and had to be stopped, but that didn’t change the fact that the children had needs.

  “I have an idea,” Jack announced, plopping Timmy down on the couch. “Why don’t we have our talk at the park? While Timmy zooooooms and Rebecca skates, we can chat.”

  “Yes, yes, yes!” Rebecca chanted. “Can we, please?” She folded her hands in prayer position.

  Susan shook her ahead. The whole idea of discussing a murderer while watching the children play at the park was far too bizarre.

  “I’m free the rest of the evening,” Jack said.

  Susan hoped that bit of
information was not meant to sound enticing. If it was, he’d failed miserably. “I don’t know what your night’s plans have to do with trying to have a serious discussion at the park.”

  “We have a lot of details to cover.” Jack explained. His voice was still nice and easy, but the gleam in his eyes had shadowed, hinting at the darkness that hid beneath his words. “I have questions that have to be answered. We can start now, but we may have to continue our meeting tonight after the children are in bed. So there’s really no reason to spoil the kids’ outing.”

  “Please, Auntie Mom, don’t spoil our outing,” Rebecca chimed in.

  Susan gave in. She was outnumbered. Besides, she didn’t want any more discussion in front of Rebecca or Timmy. They picked up on every nuance of conversations, and she couldn’t let them be drawn into the terror that had somehow singled her out to play a part in this game of murder.

  “Get your skates and sweater, Rebecca. And Timmy, you need to potty.” She sighed. To think that ten months ago her afternoons off had been spent reading a novel, or traipsing through antique shops on Magazine Street.

  She headed for Timmy’s bedroom to search for the shoes Lucy had taken off him when she’d put him down for his afternoon nap. Jack followed her, watching while she got on her hands and knees and retrieved one of the shoes from under the bed.

  “I hope you’re not upset with me for suggesting we all go to the park together. I’m not so bad once you get to know me. If you’d give yourself half a chance, you might even have a little fun.”

  “It will take more than a trip to the park to make my life fun, Detective. Someone was murdered Wednesday and the killer has promised there will be more, or have you forgotten that?”

  “I don’t forget anything, and I take my job seriously, Dr. McKnight.” He moved into her space. “So get used to having me around. Until the case is solved, you’ll see more of me than you do your own shadow. So, we can fight or we can work together. You make the call.”

  Timmy half skipped, half slid into the bedroom where they were standing. Further discussion was impossible. Susan grabbed a sweater for herself and one for Timmy before following the threesome in front of her out the door.