Chapter 39
Heather sat forward in her chair, frowning at the photo, before her gazed settled on Grissom. She was confused, uncertain. Uncomfortable.
"Then who is he?" She asked. Sara and Grissom shared a look before focusing back on the other woman. Clearing her throat, Sara pulled out another sheet of paper and pushed it towards Heather. A printout from the website of Jimmy's practice. His real practice, not the one he set up under Dr Quinn. It showed a picture of Jimmy, along with three other doctors in the office, with their names printed out below.
"His name is Dr James Thompson," Sara said, watching Heather carefully. "He is a licenced psychiatrist. We believe he created the pudendum Lucas Quinn, in order to gain access to you."
Lady Heather stared down at the picture. She was angry. No. She was pissed. There was a fire in her eyes. Her nostrils flaring. A chill settled over the room as Heather took a breath. Finding out that someone you knew, someone you trusted, was not who they said they were, was disorientating. Infuriating. Downright enraging.
Something Sara knew all too well.
"Why?" She asked. Still focusing on the photo as if it were an extremely revolting piece of meat.
"How did you meet him?" Grissom asked and Heather looked up.
"He reached out to me, after my arrest," Heather said.
"Did he give you any indication as to why?" Grissom asked.
"No. He said he worked with the police department and heard about what happened to Alison. He implied he was asked to take me on when I refused to see the court psychiatrist."
"Did Jimmy say who asked him?" Sara put in.
"Jimmy?" Heather looked to her, her voice lilting in question. "You know him?" Sara only nodded, cursing silently at the slip. "No, and I didn't ask."
"In your sessions," she continued. "Did you ever mention Grissom?"
Heather's brows furrowed and Sara could almost physically see her retreating into herself.
"Heather," Grissom put in, leaning on the table. "We're not asking you to go into detail, we just need to know…"
"What we discussed?" Heather cut him off, but her eyes were still boring into Sara's. She didn't trust her, that much was obvious. But Sara wasn't about to back down now. Not when so much was riding on this conversation. Not when her husband's life was in the balance.
"I don't really want to hear what you said about him, that is none of my business," Sara said, not breaking her stare. "I only want to know two things."
"Which are?" Heather asked, a little sarcastically.
"One, did you ever mention Grissom to Jimmy, even in passing." Sara kept her face a natural as possible. Her heart pounding. "And two. Did you tell Jimmy that he was coming back?"
The atmosphere in the room grew heavier with each passing second. Grissom was looking between them, but the two women took no notice. Eventually, Heather nodded.
"When?"
Before any of them could say any more, the door banged open. The three of them jumped as a short, balding man strode into the room.
"This interview is over," he said, placing his briefcase on the table. "My client has nothing further to say to you."
"Your client?" Grissom asked, disbelievingly.
"Yes," the man said. "Now, if you'll excuse us, Dr Kessler and I will be leaving." Heather was staring up at the man, her eyes narrowing. Shock filtered across her face for a second, but she made no move to stand when he held out his hand to her.
"Who called you?" Sara asked, standing. Blocking the door slightly. Taking no pains to hide the fact. The man looked down his nose at her – an impressive feet, since she towered over him – and turned back to Heather. "We're not finished with our questions."
"Yes, you are," the man said. "Dr Kessler, I have a car waiting outside." Heather made no move to leave, and Sara folded her arms.
"Who hired you, counsellor?"
"And if I tell you, it was Dr Kessler?" The lawyer replied.
"I would say you were a liar." Sara shot Lady Heather a look and she nodded in confirmation.
"Dr Kessler has been in custody for over 24 hours, and she has made no phone calls in that time," Grissom put in. "So, how exactly was she supposed to contact you?"
"I was hired by an independent party, who was concern for Dr Kelser's welfare," the lawyer replied.
"And who was that?"
"Well, Dr Grissom, I am under no obligation to divulge that information," the man responded. "Dr Kessler has been through a terrible ordeal, and it was brought to my firm's attention that she is at risk in her mental capacity. She is mentally unstable, and your interrogation of her, without proper representation, is in clear violation of…"
"I did not ask for an attorney," Heather cut him off, her voice cold and her eyes narrowed in dislike. "I do not need an attorney. And my mental capacity is as good as it has ever been."
"Forgive me, Dr Kessler, but we have evidential basis to suggest otherwise."
"Evidence from whom?" Heather asked, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms.
"A concerned citizen, who just so happens to be a mental health professional," the lawyer replied.
"Does this 'concerned citizen' happen to be Dr James Thompson, by any chance?" Sara asked. "Because, if it were, and you knew of this, I could arrest you for aiding and abetting. We currently have a warrant out for Dr Thompson arrest."
"You cannot arrest me for conferring with a client."
"And who is your client, Mr…" Grissom asked.
"Dickson. And the information is covered by privilege, Dr Grissom."
Sara and Grissom shared a look. "Dr Kessler is here voluntarily. She is not under arrest and is, in fact, under police protection."
"Protection from what?"
"We are under no obligation to divulge that information, counsellor," Grissom said, and Sara had to hide her grin
"Dr Kessler has confirmed that her mental capacity is not an issue, and I have seen nothing to suggest the mental instability you have alluded too."
"Well, you'll forgive me, Miss Sidle, but you are not a doctor. Nor are you a mental health professional. Therefore…"
"Grissom."
"Pardon me?" Dickson said, shocked.
"Grissom, not Sidle. And it's Mrs. If you're going to patronise me, at least do it properly." She caught Lady Heathers eye from behind the man. The woman smirked a little at her in appreciation. "You can tell your 'concerned citizen' that when you next speak with him."
The man gaped at her. His eyes flicked between Sara and Grissom. "I have been a criminalist for over fifteen years. I have worked with, and interrogated hundreds of mentally ill suspects," Sara continued. "I, and my colleagues, have had multiple conversations with Dr Kessler and there is nothing to even hint at her incapability to look after herself."
"I do not want, nor need your counsel, counsel. You may go," Heather put in with such authority, Sara was surprised not to watch the man turn tail and run right away. As it was, Dickson simply picked up his brief case and sauntered out of the room.
Sara waited for the door to click shut before turning to Grissom. There was no doubt in her mind that Jimmy sent Mr Dickson here. Whether he knew what they knew remained to be seen. But Sara had the sinking feeling that her former friend knew exactly where they were in the investigation. They needed to find a way to get a head of him.
So far, nothing they had learned had told them where Jimmy was, or what he was planning next. Just the how and the why.
"We need to get back to the lab," she said to Grissom. "There has to be something from Jimmy's apartment to tell us where he is." Grissom nodded. With a quick look to Heather, he stood. "Heather," Sara continued. "You are no longer a suspect and are free to go. But I was hoping you would stay."
"For my help?" Heather asked.
"For your protection. I don't know what Jimmy's endgame is, but I'm certain you're a part of it. I'd rather not have you caught in the middle." Heather raised her eyebrows but nodded. Sara knew she was asking a lot of the woman, but at that moment she was more concerned with keeping her alive than keeping her comfortable.
"Will you tell me, why? Why is this man targeting me?" Heather asked.
"Because, for some reason, people are under the impression that I hate you," Sara replied. Heather's lips quirked up a little and her eyes flicked to Grissom. Sara could feel him tense a little beside her. "For the record," she continued. "I don't. Hate you, that is." She could feel Grissom's surprise and had to suppress a smile as she gathered up the papers from the table. "That doesn't mean I like you."
Heather smiled. "I would expect nothing less." Sara pursed her lips together in amusement and turned to the door. Just as Grissom opened it, Heather spoke again. "Sara?" She tuned. "I don't hate you, either."
The two women shared a smile before the CSI followed her husband out into the hall.