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  “We were hoping that you could take a look at this,” he said, extending a yellow folder.

  Dr. Matteo nodded, took the folder, and briefly glanced over the contents with the same lack of enthusiasm with which he’d observed Chase’s FBI badge.

  After adjusting his spectacles, the doctor closed the folder and then laid his hands neatly on top of it.

  “I’m not sure what this has to do with me,” he said softly. “Missing children — girls — from the Nashville area? Four recent cases and four from thirty years ago?”

  Now it was her turn to question the doctor’s response, as she had Stitts’s moments ago.

  You got all that from looking at a file for thirty seconds? Goddamn speed-reader, are you?

  “That’s the gist of it,” Chase replied.

  “Then what does it have to do with me? I deal with adults with addiction problems, try to help them find happiness in the moment, not to dwell on the past or stress about the future.”

  And there it was, the man’s doctrine summed up in a single sentence. She could still remember him repeating it over and over again while she writhed in the throes of withdrawal.

  The moment… you can only ever truly be happy if you’re living in the moment, Chase.

  It was hard to be happy when your skin was trying to flip inside out.

  She hoped that Stitts would speak up then, save her the embarrassment, but knew it wasn’t his style.

  “Yeah, I know,” Chase said quietly. “But here’s the thing: I think I was almost one of those missing girls. And Louisa? I’m pretty sure she was, too. That’s why we need your help.”

  Chapter 3

  “Louisa told you this?” Dr. Matteo asked with a hint of incredulity on his tongue. “Louisa told you that she was there the same time you were? When you were kids?”

  Chase tilted her head to one side.

  “Not… not exactly. But I’m pretty sure that’s what she meant. My partner and I think that these recent missing girls are related to the ones that disappeared decades ago. And I think that Louisa and I were victims — her in particular. Remember during group when she said that she was taken as a child? For two days? I — we — think that the same people might be responsible.”

  Dr. Matteo sighed and interlaced his long fingers. When he spoke next, his thick eyebrows rose upward, causing the skin on his bald head to crinkle.

  “I’m having a hard time here, Chase, figuring out what’s real and what’s fake. Maybe… maybe we can have a chat in private for a while to set things straight?”

  Chase shook her head.

  “You can say everything in front of my partner. Stitts knows everything.”

  Dr. Matteo squinted at her for a moment, and Chase nodded encouragingly.

  “Everything?”

  “Everything,” Chase confirmed. She was starting to get annoyed with the man’s obtuse line of question.

  “I usually don’t like to discuss patient details, even with their permission.”

  “For fuck’s sake, Dr. Matteo. I don’t care what you tell him. He already knows.”

  For the first time since they’d met roughly six months ago, something akin to anger crossed over the man’s features.

  “So, he knows about your PTSD, then? About how you throw yourself into your job because dealing with other people’s problems is easier than dealing with your own?”

  Chase shrugged.

  “Like I said, he already knows.”

  “And when that doesn’t work,” Dr. Matteo continued, ignoring her comment. “You turn to illicit substances?”

  “Oh, he’s definitely aware of that.”

  Chase crossed her arms over her chest defiantly. She wasn’t sure what the man’s plan was here, but if it was to piss her off, it was working.

  “I’m sure he also knows about how you lied to me about your son and husband — about how you said they’d died in a car accident.”

  Chase cringed; she’d forgotten about that doozie.

  “I lied and for that, I’m sorry. But I was working through some shit, you know that. I’m not sure—”

  Dr. Matteo cut her off; apparently, he wasn’t finished yet.

  He wasn’t even close to done.

  “I suppose that eventually Jeremy Stitts, given his background in profiling, would have come to the same conclusions that I have, but since you’re so insistent, why don’t I just save us all the trouble?”

  With that, Dr. Matteo opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled something out. It was a nearly identical folder to the one that Stitts had handed him that contained the information on the missing girls, only it was thicker.

  Much thicker.

  The doctor flopped it onto the desk in front of Chase.

  Her initial reaction was that this was all just a ruse; after all, there was no way that Dr. Matteo could have compiled this much about her given that she’d only been at Grassroots for four months or so. It didn’t help that ninety percent of what she’d told the man had been bullshit, either. But as Chase’s eyes drifted to the folder, she confirmed that her name was indeed printed on the small tab.

  Dr. Matteo raised an eyebrow.

  “Want me to stop now, Chase? I mean, if he already knows everything…”

  Chase’s look of confusion became a scowl.

  “I’m not sure what the point of all of this shit is,” she spat. “I already said I’m sorry for lying. What do you want from me? A handy under the table?”

  “Chase…” Stitts warned.

  Chase shrugged him off.

  “No — don’t ‘Chase’ me. If this doctor has something to say, if he has something he needs to get off his chest before he helps us find the missing girls, then fuck it. Go ahead. Do your worst, doctor.”

  Dr. Matteo’s eyes softened for a moment, but then they flicked over to Stitts and promptly regained their previous vividness.

  What the fuck is going on? It’s almost like Stitts is encouraging the man.

  “Suit yourself,” Dr. Matteo said, picking up the file. He opened to the first page, appeared to look this over, then went on to the second. The man’s movements were slow and methodical and ultimately annoying.

  He is trying to piss me off, Chase concluded. But what the hell for? Is he holding a grudge against me because I lied to him? Because I left?

  “We don’t have all fucking day. Every second wasted here is another second—”

  “Chase shows a tendency toward avoidance and initially buries herself in her work to avoid recalling a troubled childhood,” Dr. Matteo read. “If that fails, she turns to chemical means to repress her memories.”

  “You’re repeating yourself, doc.”

  Dr. Matteo ignored her and continued to read.

  “It is very likely that if the access to illicit substances is cut off, she will turn to sex as a way to control the men in her life. She is unlikely to discriminate—”

  Chase’s eyes bulged and her cheeks started to burn. She’d thought that there was nothing that the doctor could say that would embarrass her.

  She was wrong.

  “That’s enough,” Stitts said, finally speaking forward.

  Dr. Matteo’s eyebrows migrated up his forehead again as he turned to Stitts.

  “Is that it? How about this… I’m quite confident that not only has Chase slept with some of her partners, but most likely the perpe—”

  “That’s enough!” Stitts shouted this time.

  The damn smile returned to the doctor’s face and he closed the folder. Chase, recalling what happened in this place when she’d been a patient and somebody shouted or got rowdy, instinctively turned to the door.

  The orderly was still there, but instead of brandishing a syringe the size of a turkey baster, he hadn’t appeared to have heard.

  Dr. Matteo’s heavy sigh drew him back.

  “Stitts, six months ago you came to me for help. You said that you were afraid that if Chase didn’t get help soon, she’d either end up in pri
son or dead.”

  Chase’s eyes flicked over to Stitts and she saw that he had joined her on the blush parade. Although she knew that Stitts had stood up for her, that he’d struck a deal with Director Hampton to keep her out of prison, she wasn’t privy on the details. All she knew was that her part of the bargain was to go to Grassroots for six months and complete the voluntary rehab program.

  Which she’d promptly not done — she’d split after four.

  As Chase stared at Stitts’s red face, she found herself wondering for what felt like the thousandth time, why he cared so much for her.

  Why do you put up with my shit? Why do you care more about me than I do? Why does anybody care about me?

  Chapter 4

  “Gee willikers, thanks; I can see you prepared a fantastic speech for my return. Really, I’m honored. But, for the record, I didn’t sleep with you, did I? I mean, I remember you coming onto me when I was curled up on the floor in withdrawal. You said something about liking to make a woman sweat, didn’t you?”

  Chase had intended the comment to throw Dr. Matteo off his game, but the man was unflappable. Still, there was an uncomfortable air in the room, but she was fairly certain that this was Dr. Matteo’s doing and not her own.

  “Chase, you need help. Just because you’ve managed to—”

  Chase waved a hand dismissively.

  “Yeah, what can I say; I’m damaged goods. What else is new? But I didn’t come here for psychiatric advice, Doogie. I came here because four girls have gone missing. I came here because my sister was taken from me nearly thirty years ago. I came here because I think Louisa can help me put an end to all of this.”

  Chase hadn’t realized that her voice was increasing in octave with every sentence, but when Stitts stepped forward, it was clear that the tension in the room was mounting.

  This wasn’t like her encounter with the bouncer in Chicago, or even the degenerate manager at the Emerald Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas. She was dealing with a seasoned professional, a psychiatrist who had seen it all and had been threatened by those far larger than her.

  And far more dangerous, as well, Chase reckoned.

  The Armstrong method wasn’t going to work with Dr. Matteo, that much was clear. The problem was, the Armstrong method was the only thing that Chase had at her disposal.

  But maybe… maybe that wasn’t true; maybe there was another approach she could take.

  Dr. Matteo unlaced his fingers and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Don’t get me wrong, I want nothing more than to help you catch whoever is responsible for these horrible crimes. But I can’t, in good conscience, reveal information about one patient to another,” his eyes flicked to Chase’s still open FBI credentials on his desk. “Regardless of your profession.”

  “We can subpoena her records, have the courts open them up.”

  Dr. Matteo didn’t falter.

  “You can, and eventually they’d probably be released. But before that happened, you’d have to show probable cause, which would require speaking about your time here, and how the only reason you know about Louisa is that you were also a patient at Grassroots. And this would open a whole can of worms. Questions would be asked about why an FBI agent would—”

  Stitts stepped forward again.

  “Yeah, I get it. You’ve spoken to Director Hampton and you know that he would never allow that.”

  Dr. Matteo held up his hands.

  “You got me; I know director Hampton. I mean, we don’t drink beer and play Fortnite together, but I know him well enough to have his cell phone number programmed into my phone. I also know that he probably has no idea that you’re here right now. But, for the record, let me just get this straight: you thought that you could come in here—” the doctor indicated both Chase and Stitts by wagging his index in a small circle, “—tell me about some case and — la voila — I would just open up my files for you?”

  Chase chewed the inside of her lip and fought back a witty retort.

  The truth was, that was exactly what she’d expected to happen. After all, rational thinking wasn’t her forte.

  Chase shot a glance over at Stitts, whose eyes remained locked on Dr. Matteo.

  Usually, she was the one to come up with a ridiculous plan and Stitts didn’t hesitate to shoot it down. Only, for some reason, he’d gone along with this one.

  “I just thought that you’d want to help us find some fucking assholes that were kidnapping little girls,” Chase said, barely able to hold back her anger. The Armstrong method might not have worked, but she could lay the guilt trip on as thick as anyone. “But I see now that —”

  “I want to help you, I really do. I just can’t,” Dr. Matteo said. “Not like this, anyway.”

  And there goes guilt.

  Chase grabbed the folder with the pictures of the missing girls from Dr. Matteo’s desk. She was in the process of pulling it to her chest when the doctor reached out and pinched the other side. For a moment their eyes met, and then Chase understood; ‘Not like this’ really meant, ‘Not for free’.

  Dr. Matteo let go of the folder and smiled again.

  “What is it that you want, then?” Chase asked, her tone surprisingly calm.

  Dr. Matteo’s eyes remained locked on hers even as she stood up straight and took a small step backward.

  “I want you to finish your treatment, Chase; I want you to come and join me here at Grassroots for another six months. The last time… look, I know about the lies and the bullshit and the squirreling away of the methadone tabs. Yeah, I know about tabs and before you ask, no, Louisa didn’t tell me. I knew about them even before you tried to kill yourself by choking down six or seven in a row.”

  For the second time since entering the room, Chase’s eyes widened and she felt her face get hot.

  “W-w-what?” she stammered. “No, I—I—I wasn’t—”

  Now it was Dr. Matteo’s turn to wave her comment away.

  “If you agree to come back to Grassroots when this is over, if you agree to spend six months with me, then I’ll tell you where to find Louisa. But we’re talking in-treatment, Chase; no running away this time.”

  Chase recovered from the shock and scoffed.

  “Yeah, no thanks,” she snapped. “If Louisa’s not here, she’s probably with her husband and kid. Shouldn’t be too hard to find them.”

  She expected Dr. Matteo to get defensive when he saw that his plan had failed, but he didn’t; he remained calm.

  Chase’s heart sunk.

  “She’s not with her family, is she?”

  Dr. Matteo didn’t respond; he didn’t so much as blink.

  They’d reached an impasse and for several moments, nobody said anything.

  Eventually, Dr. Matteo glanced over at Stitts and said, “It’s not enough for Chase to just say she’ll come back — she’s a liar and she’s an addict. I need you, Agent Stitts, to guarantee that she’ll come back. And if you do this, I’ll tell you where to find Louisa.”

  Chapter 5

  “Umm… hello? I’m right here,” Chase said. “And maybe you didn’t hear me the first time, but I said ‘no’ — it’s not happening.”

  Stitts looked at her and sighed.

  “It was your idea to come here; if you want to leave, let’s leave. Let’s get the hell out of here, fly down to Nashville and sample the BBQ. After we find the Peterson girl and the others, we’ll Learjet it back to Quantico and take on the next case.”

  Chase’s face screwed up. Stitts definitely knew how to push her buttons. This was no ordinary case, and her partner knew that.

  It wasn’t just about Stacy Peterson and the three other girls that had gone missing over the past two weeks. It was about more than that.

  “Don’t be an asshole, Stitts; that’s my job. Anyways, I can find Louisa without your help, Dr. Matteo. After all, she probably wants me to find her. Let me remind you that she wanted to talk to me when we were both here, and not the other way around.”

/>   Stitts chewed the inside of his lip and paused before replying.

  “When you were undercover in Seattle… did people know how to find you, then? How long did it take for someone to figure where you’d gone, Chase?”

  Chase scowled.

  “You don’t know anything about what happened in Seattle,” she said quickly. Stitts’s face changed and Chase instantly regretted her words. Her goal hadn’t been to hurt him.