A/N: Thanks again for the reviews everyone. I truly appreciate it.
Ch. 7
Arriving at the home of Dr. Heather Kessler, Detective Rodriguez knocked on the side door to the house where a plaque was located stating "Dr. Heather Kessler, Private Therapist and Consulting Services". The house was not only the doctor's personal home but her professional office as well. CSI Supervisor Catherine Willows was looking over the car in the driveway. The door opened and a woman answered who was short and blond.
"Dr. Kessler?" he asked as he showed his detective's badge.
"She's with a patient. I'm her receptionist, Miss Ginger. How can I help you, detective?"
"We'd like a word with her. Can we come in?"
Miss Ginger smiled slightly and opened the door wider to let them into the house. They entered a small reception area with a sofa, a couple of chairs, a desk, table and plant on the floor. There was a half-bath off the room that only had a sink and toilet, and there was a door that was closed next to it.
"What practice does she specialize in?" he asked.
Miss Ginger sat behind the desk as she answered, "Sex therapy." Rodriguez glanced over at Catherine who raised her eyes in surprise. "I assure you it's strictly professional."
"We weren't suggesting otherwise," Catherine said.
"Dr. Kessler's appointment will be over soon." She glanced at the clock and said, "She only has hour appointments, and the hour is almost up. You're lucky that she doesn't have another appointment until afternoon."
It wasn't long before the door opened and out walked a couple, man and woman. They stopped at the desk to schedule another appointment
Miss Ginger informed Heather, "Dr. Kessler, these are detectives. They would like to speak with you."
Heather regarded them both before gesturing for them to enter her office. Once they were inside, she shut the door and walked around to her desk, asking, "Would either of you like a glass of water?"
"I'm good, ma'am, but thank you," Rodriguez answered as Catherine sat down in the chair in front of the desk.
"I'm good too," she said. "And I'm not a detective. I'm Catherine Willows with the crime lab. This is Detective Rodriguez with Missing Persons."
Heather clasped her hands together on top of her desk as she said, "Missing Persons? Who is missing?"
"A woman named Julia Holden," Rodriguez said as he ventured around the room. He was looking at all the books, photos, and the diplomas on the walls.
Shaking her head, she said, "I don't know how I'm going to help you. I'm not allowed to discuss my clients. That's privileged information."
Catherine had to catch herself from gasping as she asked, "She's a client of yours?"
"Has been for the past two years now." She glanced over at Rodriguez before asking, "Isn't that why you're speaking with me?"
Rodriguez pulled out the other chair and finally sat down as he removed a notepad from his pocket and asked, "Can you tell us any information about your client? Has she mentioned anyone she's been dating?"
"I can't, but I can tell you that we meet once a week, every Wednesday night. When did she go missing?"
"Last night," Rodriguez said as he gauged her reaction. "Where were you last night?"
Heather, confused, asked, "Why would my whereabouts be of importance?"
Catherine interrupted before Rodriguez could keep spinning this around in circles and said, "Were you with a man last night? Gil Grissom?"
Heather smiled slightly as she answered, "Yes."
"For how long?" Rodriguez asked her.
"He arrived a little after ten. I'm not sure what time he left. When I woke up this morning he was gone."
"What time did you fall asleep?" Catherine asked.
Heather had to think about it but quickly said, "It was after one, but before two. I made sure my alarm was set, and it was around one thirty. I fell asleep soon after getting into bed."
"But Grissom was in bed asleep when you went to sleep?" she asked to confirm.
Heather must have realized who they were actually asking about as she said, "He's a suspect in Julia's disappearance?"
Catherine adjusted herself in the seat and looked at Rodriguez who said, "Can you answer Ms. Willows question."
"We showered, he got in bed after I did, and he was there next to me when I fell asleep. The alarm went off at 5 o'clock and he was already gone. What time he left, I don't know. You'll have to ask him."
Catherine checked her notes that Brass had given her regarding the interview he'd conducted with Grissom that morning. He didn't say what time he left. They only knew that it was before 6 o'clock. Given the time it would take for him to drive home, she'd say at least half an hour before that. Heather said he was gone by at least 5 in the morning.
If Grissom left at four-thirty, that was an hour where he had no alibi. From Heather's to Spring Valley was only ten minutes. There was a gap in the timeline. She didn't like gaps. Neither did Rodriguez as she looked over and saw him writing down in his notepad the same time gap.
"May I ask, how does Grissom know Julia Holden?"
As they stood, Catherine told Heather, "He's her husband."
"Bryan, it's a simple yes or no question—"
"No, it's not. You don't have access, or a warrant to obtain—"
"I'm her husband," he shot back as he paced over his floor in the kitchen.
"You have two separate bank accounts, Gil. Only Julia or a court of competent jurisdiction can access it. You know this."
"She's missing, Bryan. If I can see her recent transactions, I might be able to—"
"And the police are doing their job, Gil. I can't help you."
He sighed into the phone in disappointment as he said, "How long have we known each other?"
Bryan was quiet on the phone then muttered under his breath, "You can be such an asshole. I'll email you her last statement."
"Thank you," he snapped the phone shut and tossed it onto the counter.
Walking over to his window, he glanced out and saw the gathered press outside. This was hell. He refused to turn on the news as he didn't want to hear anything they had to say. It would all be assumption and conjecture anyway; not the truth.
At least he no longer felt so helpless. Rubbing his face, he felt how numb it was. How numb he felt. When Julia needed him the most, he was being shut out of the investigation. In fact, he was being shut out of his job at the moment. Before his call to Bryan, he had a call from the Director of the Lab. He was on administrative leave pending the outcome of the investigation. He couldn't go to her house because it was an active scene and sealed by the police pending the investigation.
Bryan had come through with her financial statement. Maybe he could go to her office and have a look around. There might be something there, on her calendar or her work computer, that might help the investigation. Then there was her boyfriend. He knew that the police were talking to Dr. Lurie, but he'd like to have a talk with him as well.
Captain Jim Brass walked down the halls of Desert Palm Hospital as Dr. Vincent Lurie was paged to come to reception. He arrived at the reception area at the same time the double doors were pushed open and out walked a tall man with a goatee wearing a lab coat. Charlotte Grissom's description of her mother's boyfriend was pretty accurate. Now all he had to do was determine if the doctor was as evil as the villain in Aladdin and he could wrap this case up in a neat little bow.
"I was paged," Dr. Lurie said as he addressed the nurse at the reception desk.
"That was me," he said as he removed his badge and showed it to the doctor. "You have a minute?"
"I don't seem to have a choice," Lurie said as he extended his hand to shake his. "What's this about?"
Walking away from the desk, he said, "Let's walk and talk. I passed a coffee vending machine on the way down and I could use a cup. This isn't my normal working hours. Pushing a double. How about you? Are the daytime rounds your normal working hours?" he asked as he started down the hallway.
Lurie glanced around the hallway as he answered, "I do rotations."
"What was your rotation yesterday?"
"What's this about?" Lurie asked again.
He stopped at the coffee dispenser vending machine and got a cup of coffee as he told the doctor, "Where were you last night?"
"Here."
"All night?"
Lurie sighed as he shook his head. "Off and on. I was here for 12 hours the night before. Had a break during the day. Then I was on call. I came in about seven and then left around eleven. And then I was back here around two in the morning and have been here ever since."
"I'm sure you can have nurses vouch for you?"
"I can have my patient who was on the operating table vouch for me," Lurie told him. "Gunshot victim. Worked on him for eight hours."
"Did he pull through?"
"He did. I saved him from being paralyzed."
He took a sip of the coffee and grimaced at the taste. "Needs sugar. So, uh, when you left last night for about three hours, where'd ya go?"
"I went to see someone."
"A woman?"
Lurie gave a nod as he glanced around again, like he was making sure someone wasn't listening or watching. "That's right."
"Julia Holden."
Lurie barely batted an eyelash. Nothing phased the doctor. But he didn't refute it. "You still haven't said what this is about? Did she say I did something?"
"Why would she?"
"Because we broke up last night and when I left, she was really upset."
"Why weren't things working out?" he asked as he spotted a nurse coming around the corner.
He had to do a double take because he'd sworn for a moment it was Sara Sidle. The nurse spotted the two of them and slowed her steps before making a quick turn down a hallway.
Lurie had also seen her and had quickly looked away, back to him, as he said, "That's none of your business."
"See, Doctor, it is my business. Julia Holden went missing last night. Her neighbors heard an argument around midnight and then she's gone."
"We argued. We broke up. I left and came back to work. That's all I know. If you're looking for someone who could have done something to her, check her husband. He works for you guys, doesn't he? Gil Grissom."
He took another sip of the coffee then asked, "Was he there when you were there?"
"No. He'd already left, but he came back."
"How'd you know that?"
Lurie smiled slightly as he told him, "Because Julia called him before I left."
"Just because she called him doesn't mean he came back."
"You don't know her husband very well. He gets jealous, possessive, and he's violent. He's smacked her before."
He felt a tense uneasiness in his gut. He didn't know if it was because he thought Dr. Lurie was lying, or if he thought he was telling the truth. "Have you seen him attack her?"
"No," Lurie said. "Julia's very honest about her past with her husband. There's a reason she left him. His anger is one of those reasons. Now, if you'd excuse me, I have to get back to work. My patients need me."
"I'm sure they do." He watched as the doctor walked away as he went to the reception desk to check on Dr. Lurie's alibi.
He tossed the paper cup into the trash and pulled out his cell phone as he reached the desk. This case just kept getting worse.
As he checked his email to view Julia's financial statement, he heard a noise and looked towards the door of his home office. Charlotte was standing in the doorway, clutching her stuffed spider. She hadn't let it go all day. /Hey, spider/ he signed as he stood and walked over her. /You okay?/
/I miss mommy./
He felt his chest ache for her as he knelt down and signed, /Me too. Is that why you haven't let go of Jasmine?/
/I don't want her to disappear too./ Then as tears and fear filled her eyes, she asked, /You're not going to disappear, are you, daddy?/
Everything he felt on the inside was broken at her words. She was afraid he'd disappear like her mother. Shaking his head, he told her, /I'm not going anywhere. Promise./ He heard a knock on his front door and told her, /Someone's here. It's probably the police./ Or a reporter daring enough to knock on his door for a comment. /I want to talk to them in private, okay?/
She gave a nod as they walked out of his office together. She went back up the stairs as he went to the front door. Pulling it open, he saw two people standing there: Catherine and Detective Adam Rodriguez. Moving aside, he let them both in before taking a quick glance at the news station cameras aimed his way then shut the door.
Turning to them, he asked, "Who leaked it to the press?" They both glanced at one another as he looked between them. "They were at the police station right after I talked with Brass. How did they get on this so quickly? Better yet, who told them where I live?! I have a P.O. Box listed. My address isn't public—"
"Gil—"
"Don't tell me to calm down, Catherine." He shot her a glare as he pointed up the steps. "My daughter's terrified enough. She thinks I'm going to disappear too, and I have reporters outside my house! We can't walk outside without them shoving a camera or microphone into her face, asking her questions. She can't hear them! They're scaring her!"
"We'll get them to leave," Rodriguez reassured him.
"You do that, Adam, and then you can go find out who in the department leaked information about an active investigation to the press along with my personal, private, address," he said before walking into the kitchen and pouring himself a cup of coffee. He didn't even ask if they wanted a cup.
Catherine knew him well enough to know that when he was angry to not even talk to him at times. And she could forget about pleasantries. If she wanted a cup of coffee, she could get it herself, which she did once he left the kitchen. "Adam?" she asked as she held up the pot.
Rodriguez waved it off, saying, "No, thanks, Catherine."
He sat down on the couch and rubbed his head as there was another knock on his door. When he stood to go answer it, Rodriguez was already at the door opening it. Two more people walked into his house. Dr. Philip Kane, who was the police department's psychiatrist. He specialized in Child Behavioral Therapy and worked with many children with behavioral issues, including special needs kids including those who were hearing impaired. The other person was June Bishop, the department translator.
"Philip, Mrs. Bishop, what're you doing here?" he asked. "Charlotte already gave her statement."
"We were requested," Dr. Kane said as he removed his jacket and folded it over his left arm as he ventured around the room. Mrs. Bishop sat down at the table after Rodriguez pulled out a chair for her.
Catherine hesitated before sitting down on his couch next to him and let out a breath. "During our investigation, evidence has come to light that Charlotte might know more than she told us."
"That—" He shook his head as he told her, "Charlotte wouldn't lie."
"She's a kid, Gil. It wouldn't be a lie; she just didn't realize the importance of the information."
He felt the pounding in his head as he rubbed it and knew there wasn't a whole lot he could do about it. They had more questions; he had more questions, and just like them, he wanted answers.
"Before we talk to you, we'd like to talk to Charlotte."
"About?"
"We found a sketchbook hidden in your daughter's room. She seems pretty angry at her mother."
"Well, aren't kids being angry with parents a common thing?" he asked in confusion.
"Do you make her follow rules while she's here," Dr. Kane asked.
He frowned at Philip as he told him, "I'm not strict, if that's what you're asking. She has things she has to do, like brush her teeth before bed and put her toys away, but she's able to do most things on her own time and own pace. Julia's different. She likes a schedule, which makes sense seeing how Charlotte's there most of the time, especially during the weekdays when she has school. She's with me on weekends when I have them off. We both…When we're spending time together, it's freeing for the both of us. I'm more relaxed and she's mostly free to do what she wants."
"Do you discipline her at all?"
"When I have to. It's not very often."
Kane gave a nod as he asked, "How?"
He really wasn't liking having to answer all these questions, but he understood why. So, he answered, "Honestly, most of the time, I ask her permission."
Catherine almost laughed. "You ask your daughter's permission to punish her?"
He shrugged a little, saying, "She doesn't do anything bad. I try to educate, not punish. When I have to correct her, I explain what she did and why that could be a bad thing, and then I ask her how she feels about it, and then ask her if it's okay to have quiet time so she can think about what she did. Then, after a while, I ask her questions to see what she thought about, and that's it. What?"
Catherine tried not to smile at him as she shook her head. "What can I say? That's you."
Kane asked, "Things that could be bad? You never tell her that she's wrong or that she is bad? Or that what she did was bad?"
He shook his head. "Never. I don't judge her. Hell, I argue with authority myself sometimes—" Catherine stifled a laugh, and he corrected himself, "often. I make mistakes. She's eight. I'm not going to make her feel like she's wrong. She can learn without being condemned for being a child."
Kane asked him, "Were you condemned for being a child?"
He nearly laughed as he picked up his cup of coffee and took a drink. "I was condemned for being born. I'm Catholic. I remember once my mother dragging me into a confessional booth when I was five."
"And you said that you have problems with authority?"
"Asking Gil if he has problems with authority is like asking if water's wet," Catherine quipped as he took another drink of coffee. "Why'd you think I'm the night shift supervisor and not him? He's gotten into with the Mayor, the Sheriff, the Deputy Sheriff, the Director of the Lab, the Undersheriff—"
"He gets the point, Catherine."
"—every Judge he's ever tried to obtain a warrant from." She didn't back down as she said, "And now I know why you had a problem with Father Powell during the Jennings case. Do you also have a problem with your mother? Where is she, by the way?"
"She had things to do at her art gallery. Once she's done, she'll be here to pick up Charlotte so she can stay with her for a while. She doesn't think I should have her."
"Without Charlotte here, you can work on finding Julia."
"No," he corrected Catherine as he said, "she thinks I'm not a good father. She says I'm a bad influence and neglectful."
"Are you?" Kane asked him.
He stared over at Philip as he told him, "I let Charlotte have a pet spider. I work 50 hours a week. And I live here, thirty minutes away from my family. I see other women. According to my mother, all of that's wrong, and that I'm neglectful, and putting my child in danger. My mother says that if I had only been a better husband then none of this would have happened."
"That didn't answer my question," Kane said as he leaned on the kitchen counter. "I didn't ask what your mother thinks about you. I asked what you think about you." He asked him again, "Do you think you're a bad influence on your daughter? Do you think you neglect her?"
Thinking about how he'd let his daughter down, how he let Sara down, how her mother was taken, and how Charlotte wanted to blame herself, all he could think at that moment was that he was the worst person in the world. He had been a horrible husband, father, and boyfriend.
Catherine glanced around him; he turned and saw Charlotte on the steps, still clutching Jasmine to her chest. He saw her worried eyes and felt the tightness in his chest getting worse, but he smiled despite his guilt. /Charlotte, everything's okay./
She glanced around at everyone as she walked over to him and climbed into his lap, signing, /Are they your friends, daddy?/
/Yes, spider, they're my friends/ he signed as well as spoke his response. /This is Catherine, she's my boss. That's Doctor Philip Kane. And you've already met Detective Rodriguez and Mrs. June Bishop./
Rodriguez had sat down at a chair at his table and been quiet so far, observing and taking notes. Smiling at Charlotte, he asked, "Charlotte, we would like to ask you some more questions." As he spoke the words, Bishop signed them to Charlotte.
/Can my dad stay?/ she asked.
Bishop said, "She wants to know if her dad can stay for the interview."
"He can stay," Rodriguez told her.
Holding his daughter in his arms as Rodriguez started questioning her, he felt his arms tightening around her waist. Charlotte had taught him many lessons over the years, and one of them was that sometimes comfort was the only thing needed and that he could do for her at times. He wanted to protect her more than anything but at the moment all he could do was comfort her.
"We talked about the night your mom went missing. You said you didn't wake up during the night and you only saw your mom and dad at the house before going to bed. Now, I want to ask you about the days before your mom went missing. Tell us about that weekend. What happened Friday?"
Charlotte took a breath and signed, /My daddy took me to school and…I had carrot cake for Noodles birthday. He's the class rabbit./
"What happened after school? Did you go home?"
/Daddy picked me up and we went to Adventuredome and had ice cream and played games. I rode Miner Mike and daddy rode the big rollercoaster. I stayed with Ashton./
"Who's Ashton?" Rodriguez asked in confusion.
"He's the ride operator," he told him. "They all know me and Charlotte. Whenever I ride it, whoever's there that day watches her for me until the ride is over."
Rodriguez was surprised by that as he asked, "You leave her alone?"
"The ride lasts one minute thirty seconds. She always stays with the operator."
/He always asks me if it's okay first. If I feel funny he doesn't ride it./
"How'd you mean "feel funny"?"
She thought about it before signing, /My belly hurts or I don't want to be alone…You know, funny./
"She gets stomach aches sometimes," he explained. "We've been learning to pace ourselves so that doesn't happen."
Dr. Kane had walked into the room and sat down and asked her, "Are you afraid of being left alone often?"
Charlotte shrugged into his chest as she answered, /Sometimes./
Kane smiled and gave a nod as he asked her, "Can you give us an example of when you feel that way? Is it after you're in trouble or after something happens?"
Charlotte looked up at him and he gave her an encouraging smile. He had no idea where they were going with this line of questioning so all he could do was let them ask their questions. Anything he thought was out of line, he'd let them know.
She was thinking about it; he knew that because she would press her lips together and look away, much like him, actually. /When I don't see my daddy for a long time. I miss him. Sometimes I don't want to be left alone./
"How about after you get angry with your mommy? Do you feel funny then?" As Dr. Kane asked Charlotte that question, he felt his stomach start to twist up in a knot.
/Yes./
Kane smiled again, reassuring her, as he asked, "How? Can you describe it?"
She looked up at him again and he saw she was getting scared, and angry because she was frustrated. /Is it okay if I tell, daddy?/
He was confused. Why wouldn't it be okay? /You can tell, spider. We talk about our feelings all the time. It's okay to be angry or scared. Take a breath, and when you're ready, tell him how you feel./
Turning back to Philip, she took a deep breath to calm herself before signing, /When I get angry with mommy, my chest and head hurts./
"Do you break things when you're angry with her? Or draw angry pictures?"
/Sometimes both. I mostly draw. Then I have to clean up my room or get grounded. Then I get really sad and miss my dad./
Kane gave a nod as he told her, "Thank you, Charlotte."
Rodriguez then asked her, "Did you get angry with your mom anytime over the weekend?"
Reaching up, she grabbed him behind the neck as she pulled him into a hug before answering the detective, /Before my birthday party. I kept asking why daddy wasn't there yet./
"Is that why your mom got mad?"
/She was mad before, that's why I was asking about daddy. He makes me feel better./
"How do you know she was mad? Did she tell you something that made you think she was mad or do something?"
It was getting really hard to breathe as he realized he was holding his breath. Pushing it out, his arms got tighter around her as he waited for her answer. His head was also starting to hurt. When she didn't answer, he looked down at her and saw she was looking at him and she had tears in her eyes.
/It's supposed to be a secret. I promised not to tell. We always keep our promises./
He suddenly felt sick as his throat went dry. Letting her go so he could sign to her, he said, /Some promises are meant to be broken. If someone hurts you, even if you love them, you don't keep a promise to not tell, especially not to the police./
/Mommy/ She stopped as she wiped her eyes before continuing, /Mommy made me cry. She was saying mean things about me and daddy. Then…she smacked me and told me to go to my room./
"She hit you?!" he asked, shocked, as he also signed the words.
"Gil—"
"No, Adam—" he said as he glared at the detective. "This interview is over."
Grabbing Charlotte up in his arms, he carried her up the stairs to her room. Sitting her on her bed, he knelt in front of her and asked, /Are you okay?/
/I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you mad./
/You didn't make me mad, spider. What made me mad was what your mommy did, okay. Not you./
She gave a nod as she held back her tears, and anger, then asked, /When do you keep a promise, daddy?/
That was a really good question. He was never good at keeping a lot of his promises, but he knew when he wanted to keep them. /You keep a promise to help someone or to protect them. There are many reasons to keep a promise, but never when someone hurts you./ Charlotte's eyes went over his shoulder and he looked towards the door and saw Dr. Kane standing in the doorway. /It's okay. Dr. Kane only wants to help./ He gave her a kiss on her head and stood to meet Philip in the hallway.
After shutting the bedroom door, he asked, "What's this about? You think my daughter did something—"
"No, Gil, we don't think she did anything." Kane let out a breath then told him, "We were assessing you and your responses."
He nearly gaped but caught himself. "At least you're honest," he said a little bitterly.
"I don't think you knew what was going on in that house until a few minutes ago. However, what I think and what the police think aren't always in agreement, nor are they conclusive."
"You think Julia's been abusive?"
He shrugged, saying, "I don't think there have been any severe beatings or child abuse, but there have been incidents of strict punishment and abrupt anger. I'm not ruling out possible emotional abuse or physical neglect. Charlotte kept a diary where she wrote about her mother's outbursts of anger, and neglect by leaving her alone for long periods of time. She also kept a sketchbook that depicted images of violence. Your daughter is very angry, Gil. She could be depressed."
He shook his head as he let out a breath. There were so many questions spinning in his head. His main concern was his daughter, but the most vital information to the case he heard was that Julia left Charlotte alone. "Julia left her alone before?"
"Sometimes for hours. Never for days. This is different."
Staring at the closed door to his daughter's room, he shook his head again. "I had no idea. She didn't tell me."
Kane placed a hand on his shoulder as he told him, "I want to talk with her further. Not today, but at some point, Gil. See if she has any signs of abandonment issues which can cause her problems—"
"What signs should I be looking for?" he asked.
"Children mostly show signs of anxiety. Clinginess, and separation anxiety, fear of being left alone, worrying and panic, or poor concentration, or feeling sick more than what is normal. They get easily upset and have difficulty regulating their emotions which causes emotional outbursts or tantrums. Does any of that sound familiar?"
As Philip was talking, he couldn't help but think of how Charlotte could act. "Sometimes, but…I'm not with her most of the time. I have noticed anxiety and being overly emotional, but…I thought she was just being a kid, or—"
"A human being," Kane said with a slight smile. "If she doesn't get therapy, it could lead to problems later in life."
"What kind of problems?"
Kane let out a breath. "It depends. There are many different behavioral issues or disorders someone could face in the future depending on their childhood experiences. Fear of abandonment is one of those issues which can cause an array of problems. She might grow up to have difficulty establishing and maintaining healthy relationships; for example, staying with a toxic partner and fearing a relationship that involves actual love. She could be afflicted with depression, have thoughts of suicide, feelings of worthlessness, difficulty trusting others. Or, fear of intimacy, being distant, and struggling with vulnerability and being open. Sometimes, it's a cocktail mixture of symptoms that comes and goes. She might experience identity issues and problems with social functioning. Then there's always the risk of addiction problems: drugs or alcohol, or promiscuity. It's common. Along with behavioral disorders like dissociation. They lose their sense of self at times. Can't recognize who they are. I had a case of a guy who dissociated so much from who he was that he couldn't identify himself in a mirror. He said it was like looking at a stranger. It comes about through childhood trauma, neglect, or a loss, like a death of a parent at a young age. Or a divorce. That's why it's important to spot the signs early in childhood to prevent issues later in life. The abuse can continue into adulthood—"
Listening to Philip, what he heard was himself. He felt everything go numb inside. Rubbing his head, he suddenly feared his daughter turning out to be just like him. She already had his anger. It was getting hard to keep listening to what he was saying.
"—that's why I was asking about your parenting style. Behavioral disorders or issues can arise from divorce or other emotional upset at home like coercion from parents, unhealthy or inconsistent discipline style, and poor attitude towards education or schooling. You and Julia both take education seriously but have different parenting and discipline styles that can lead to confusion on expectations, or who the child feels comfortable with, which causes conflict." Kane was quiet for a long moment as he regarded him, waiting for a response.
"I, uh…" He stopped talking.
Everything in his head was wrong. He was wrong. He also couldn't breathe. It was getting harder to breathe. His world tilting off balance again. The hallway spun in his vision and he had to close his eyes again. God, his head hurt as he tried to focus. He couldn't. His head was throbbing, and his anger was burning up his chest. He turned away from the doctor as he let the panic grab hold; it felt like a vice grip was squeezing his chest.
"Gil, are you okay?"
Opening his eyes, he turned around and pushed past the man as he headed down the steps, telling him, "I think it's time for you to leave."
"Gil?" Kane asked as he came down the steps behind him.
He saw three other people still in the house. "Thank you for stopping by, but we're done here." He needed a drink.
Catherine was snapping her phone shut as she said, "Actually, Gil, we're not done here. That was Brass."
He went into the kitchen, yanked open the refrigerator door, and instead of grabbing out a bottle of beer like he wanted, he got the bottle of water and the migraine medication. The sunlight was making it hard to keep his eyes open as his stomach did a backflip as he chugged the water down. His head kept throbbing and he wanted to crawl into bed and die. Everything seemed to hurt and all at once. His head, his heart, his lungs from not being able to breathe properly.
"—he's on his way over here with a warrant."
"For what?" he asked as he turned around and tossed the empty water bottle into the trash by the counter.
Catherine was watching him closely as she told him, "To search your house, car, and to take pictures of your face."
He winced as he shook his head. They had a search warrant. How could they obtain a warrant when he hadn't done anything? So, Jim had to have enough probable cause for a Judge to grant the warrant, which could have been granted on circumstantial evidence alone. There would be more questions. Answers he didn't want to give.
His front door opened and in walked his mother. She was looking around at the other people gathered in the living room with a disconcerting look on her face. /Have they found Julia?/
Shaking his head, he told her, /No, they haven't. Let me get Charlotte./
Going back up the stairs into his daughter's room, he helped her to pack up a bag of her things. His mother had clothes at her house and books, but he wanted to make sure Charlotte had what she wanted to make her comfortable, including her stuffed spider that she slept with. She said goodbye to Henry, her pet spider, and then they left the room as he carried her down the steps and into her grandmother's arms.
/I love you, spider. I'll see you soon./
/Love you too, daddy/ Charlotte signed to him before she was out the door.
Without turning to Catherine, he told her, "I hope I didn't just lie to her."
"If you're innocent, you have nothing to worry about."
"Catherine, me and you both know that's not true." He turned around, picked up his cell phone off his coffee table, and called his lawyer. After he made the call, he sat back down on his couch as he picked up the coffee and took a drink.
He watched as Philip Kane and June Bishop leave, they were no longer needed, as Catherine said, "We have some more questions for you, Gil. Clear some things up, like…Why was your DNA found in Julia's bed?"
He'd forgotten about that part when he was talking with Brass at the station because he'd been too busy trying to figure out what happened to Julia. "Friday afternoon, after spending all day shopping for the birthday party, I took a nap in Julia's bed before leaving to pick up Charlotte from school. It wasn't the first time. I used the alarm clock, and I also took a shower there since I didn't have time to take one earlier in the day."
"That explains that," Catherine said as she looked at Detective Rodriguez, who was walking around his house, examining it, "but not the gap in your alibi."
Lifting his head, he stared over at Catherine as he asked, "What gap?"
She hesitated as she said, "Maybe you should wait for your lawyer."
"I was at Heather's house all night."
"What time did you leave?"
What time did he leave? Rubbing his head, he tried to remember leaving. He had drunk the beer and whiskey, showered, fallen asleep…and then, the next thing he knew, he was getting home. Instead of telling them any of that, he kept his mouth shut and waited for his lawyer, and for Brass to get there with the warrant.
TBC…