Not Forgotten (12 page)

Chapter 13

Natalie stared at the stack of files on her desk but didn’t see them, her mind on Matt and their lunch together. After they had finished surreptitiously running though the file—her hand sore from writing down a copious amount of notes—Matt had walked her to her car, his hand splayed on the small of her back. She had gone breathless at the first touch and when they had stopped beside her car, she had wanted nothing more than to pull him into her body and kiss him hard and passionately. She hadn’t, and he made no move towards her, much to her disappointment.

He had then delighted her by opening her car door for her. It was chivalrous and sent a thrill through her body. No one had ever opened her door for her and she found she enjoyed it. For some reason it made her feel special. After climbing into her car, he had closed the door gently but firmly and as she had driven off she had glanced back to see him staring after her.

She had to get a grip on herself and seriously needed to stop focusing on it. She wasn’t living in a fairy tale despite how he made her feel.

Natalie let out a calming breath and stared at the pile and winced. She really had to stop procrastinating. As much as she wanted to wile the day away thinking of Matt—and she could easily do so—she had work to do. She pulled down the top folder and began reading. Peter Hoffman had come to her eight months ago because of authority issues dating back to childhood. It had been a fairly simple case. One of the few she had and although she technically hadn’t cured him as his was a personality trait, she felt that she had helped him deal with the issues in his life and he’d been able to move on to be a more balanced individual.

If only other cases had been as simple as that. Natalie picked up another file and scanned the pivotal information. Jerry Friday had been ordered by the courts to see a psychologist for behavioural problems. The man had been driving down the wrong side of the street and when police tried to pull him over, a four hour car chase ensued, resulting in his arrest, which he decided to resist. It led to two officers being treated in the ER for bodily harm. Police were baffled when they’d brought him in to discover that he wasn’t drunk, that this was simply his normal behaviour.

In view of his aggressive tendencies, the court had issued him with an ultimatum. Either visit a psychologist and work on his issues or three to five in minimum security. Jerry chose her and she had spent a year trapped inside her office with him one hour a week until his sentence was up. Whether they had made any progress was still lost to her. Unprofessionally, she was happy to see him go.

Natalie placed Jerry’s file on top of Peter’s. Once she was done going through all her old files they would be taken down to the basement and archived. It was procedure to keep the files for several years before they could be destroyed.

One by one, Natalie went through the old files. She found it was kind of like looking through old photo albums and going down memory lane. She could imagine her patients before her, reciting their issues to her to solve. She could remember the problem ones or the ones she seemed to help. Others were faces lost in a crowd. She hated that but was realistic. Natalie knew she couldn’t save everyone. It was kind of like war, she reflected. You pray when you go you don’t lose any of your team, but in truth you knew you would be bringing some home in body bags.

It took another three hours and countless mugs of coffee to see the end of the pile and she jumped up and down rejoicing the moment the last file was placed on top of the pile to go to the basement.

Natalie leaned back in her chair, kicking her shoes off before placing the heels of her feet on her desk and dug around her desk drawer for her emergency packet of cashews. She started chewing on them as she enjoyed her brief down-time. She thought about her previous cases and then about the Butcher. Her mind always seemed to fall back to him.

Her professional brain couldn’t help wonder what had brought him on this path of murder and butchery. What happened to him that had caused him to act this way? Was he abused as a child? Not that it was an excuse, of course, one she certainly didn’t allow. Many people throughout the country were abused when they were children, but not all of them turned out to be horrific serial killers.

Had he started off by torturing young children or defenceless pets? Was there someone out there who’d seen his sickening behaviour and chose to ignore it? She shook her head. As much as her profession relied on getting into people’s heads, she had no such desire to delve inside the mind of a murderer, even if it could help the case. The Butcher was different and she knew if she was to delve into his mind she might not return safely and certainly not without scars or psychoses.

Over her years as a psychologist, Natalie had met some colleagues who had done just that. They had ventured inside prisons around the country and some even around the world and had interviewed serial killers. Natalie marvelled at their bravery or stupidity, whichever way you looked at it. She certainly wouldn’t be able to do it. She had enough nightmares in her life. She didn’t feel the need to add more of someone else’s. She had even tried to read a report one of her classmates had written on one of the country’s worst offenders. Natalie had read the first chapter and then put it down. There had been no need or reason to subject herself to that darkness.

She sighed when she heard her computer beep, interrupting her thoughts as it reminded her an appointment was due. She opened up her calendar and looked at the name. Her mind flashed to the day she had met Matt.

She felt a shiver of excitement go through her at the thought of Matt. When she was near him, she felt a sizzle of awareness and she had found herself staring at his lips once or twice. She wondered how they would feel against her own, how he would taste. She felt her body go warm as desire flowed through her.

At that moment her office door opened and Henry Rellet stood hesitating in the doorway. Natalie pushed all thoughts of Matt, and his body, out of her mind. She had other things to think about right now and she couldn’t afford to be side-tracked, even by thoughts of the very sexy detective.

She waved Henry in. Cautiously, as if half expecting something to jump out at him, he made his way towards her. He took his seat and sat poised on the edge of the plush leather chair as if at any minute he would need to run. She had noticed before that he never really did relax in her presence as much as she made it a ‘calm and safe’ place.

Henry was a normal enough person in her estimation. His clothes were bland—often beige, cream or an off-white. He was one of those people no one ever really noticed and if they did, tended to forget as soon as he was gone from their sights. His honey-blond hair was gelled down and brushed to one side and she wondered if even a hurricane could dislodge one strand. For some reason it looked odd on his head, not quite suiting his skin tone. His light blue eyes watched her carefully.

Natalie waited patiently. She knew Henry had his own timetable and wouldn’t or at least
couldn’t
be rushed. Henry spent his time talking to her about his day to day life. He had what he called a ‘time consuming and demanding’ job and liked to be able to relax with her as he was a different person outside her office. Most people treated her like a sounding board, someone to listen to their thoughts whether they wanted to hear her input or not. Some people just wanted to get secrets off their chests and she was their own private confessional.

“Well, I’ve been seeing another woman. She’s just right for me,” Henry declared.

Natalie nodded. Each visit he always told her he had found ‘the one’ only to tell her the next time the woman had left. She wondered what he was doing to push them away. She looked back over her notes and counted the failed relationships. He was in double digits now. She figured he must come on too hard and fast or smother them. There was no way he could be
that
unlucky in love.

“She’s perfect. All blonde hair and blue eyes. She’s definitely the one.”

“What about your last girlfriend—”

She broke off trying to remember the woman’s name. Natalie consulted her file but couldn’t find it. Had she been having an off day and not recorded it? She was usually more thorough than this. Patients liked it when she could recall details like that at the drop of a hat. It made them feel important that someone actually cared about the small things.

As she flicked through Henry’s file she realised she hadn’t once recorded any of his girlfriends’ names. She had, however, made a note about there being one and her occupation which she found odd. Henry might not like to name names but he had no problems with telling her what they did for a living.

She found the last ‘
GF’
notation and read the job title. “The hospital worker?”

Henry nodded. “She just wasn’t good enough. I had to get rid of her.”

Natalie frowned. She wondered what the girl had done to deserve the boot. It wasn’t as if Henry could afford to be picky. He was attractive enough. His personality left a lot to be desired, but then she only saw one side of him. He had mentioned that he was different away from her office. What did she know? Perhaps he was mesmerising and assertive? Or played in a rock band.

“And how long ago was that?”

Henry smiled and she shivered. She had never seen him smile before and the small action changed his face. Gone was the affable man and in his place was a man not quite right. He gave her the creeps but he wasn’t the only one.

Natalie made a note to research any treatment he might have had previously. Someone who could change their entire demeanour in a second certainly couldn’t have stayed off some mental health professional’s radar for long.

“A couple of days,” he said nonchalantly and she watched his facial muscles mould back into the face of the man she had thought boring.

Natalie felt her eyebrow rise. He really didn’t like to be alone. While as a professional she prided herself on being non-judgemental, she couldn’t help it. She was human, after all, and a couple days from one woman to the next cried monophobia.

“That seems rather sudden. Are you sure it is love and that you’re not rebounding? What did you say her name was?”

Natalie watched him flinch as if she had struck him. His face darkened and he visibly fought for control. The cords tightened in his throat and she thought she saw a muscle tick under pressure. This wasn’t a side of Henry Rellet she’d seen before. Obviously he only liked talking about himself and not having his choices questioned or commented on.

“I didn’t say I loved her. I said she’s the one,” he replied when he had calmed down.

She didn’t comment on the fact that he hadn’t answered the question about the woman’s name and let it slide. She had no plans on sending her patient into a rage. Not that it didn’t happen, but if she could avoid it she did. Natalie admitted she wasn’t the best person when it came to dealing with male anger and the few times a patient had lost it she had cowered, stricken with fear until the building’s security team had arrived and removed her enraged patient.

“Well, I’m very happy for you, Henry. I just caution you on taking things too fast. Take the time to allow the relationship to mature.”

That is good advice
, she thought, thinking of Matt.

Henry nodded. He sat with both feet firmly planted on the ground, his hands clasped together on his lap. It unnerved her.

“I will, Doctor Miller. She is very special. I will take my time with her.”

Henry left and once again Natalie was alone in her office. She stood and made her way to the computer and sat down in her comfortable chair with the best back support money could buy and added her notes from the day’s session into Henry’s electronic file. As she saved the document she looked over at the tower of files and groaned. She hated filing, and archiving her files required going down to the basement, which was something else she hated doing. She thought fleetingly to ask her receptionist to do it for her but after looking at the clock on the wall she knew Lara would have gone home some time ago.

Natalie decided against leaving them for her tomorrow. It wouldn’t take much time and it would be one less thing waiting for her in the morning. As she slowly made her way to the elevator, Natalie hoped she didn’t run into an Occupational Health and Safety officer, otherwise it would be her arse. She really should have gotten a trolley. She reflected as she struggled to hit the call button. After juggling her load around, she cursed her impatient self. The files were not only awkward but heavy. Before she could scold herself again, the elevator arrived and she stepped inside.

The basement was dark, with only a naked bulb giving off any light at all. She was hit full force with the dank, mouldy air that came from the unventilated room where she had several filing cabinets stored. She sneezed as she breathed in the dust lingering in the air.

Natalie quickly filed away her patient’s records, the darkness and late hour making the storage area seem eerie and sinister. When she was done, Natalie took the stairs, something she only did once every blue moon. But she usually had good reason to take the elevator, sometimes carrying armfuls of files or wearing killer heels. But she decided as a health—albeit mental health—professional she needed to set a good example. She was puffing by the time she made it to her third floor office and reflected on how out of shape she was.