The Vanishing by Gary Brown (top 10 motivational books TXT) 📕

like a GQ model. And he’s got big feet.”

“Big feet?”

“Yeah. And you know what they say about guys with big feet.”

Claire smiled. “I hate to ask.”

“Why, they wear big shoes, of course. What were you thinking?”

“Pervert.”

Kelly laughed. “Hey, you got any plans for tonight?”

Claire shook her head. “Not particularly. What did you have in mind?”

“Martin’s book is going national tomorrow, so the publishing company is hosting an invitation-only party tonight. They’re pulling out all the stops, first class all the way. It’s at the Ambassador Room of the Harbor Plaza Hotel at 8:00. Very posh, very snooty. The full red-carpet treatment. Wine, champagne, caviar. The press will be covering the event. You wanna come?”

“I don’t know.”

“C’mon, Claire!” Kelly pleaded. “We both need a break. You and I work way too much. Besides, the dating scene of late has, as they say, rather sucked.”

“I take it things didn’t work out with Tom?”

“Tom Thornton? Absolute dweebsville. The only thing more exciting than being on a date with Tom is polishing my silverware. Besides, he lacks the primary criteria I look for in a man.”

“Big feet?”

“A pulse.”

Claire laughed. “All right, I’ll go. But only on one condition. If I feel like leaving early, I will. No hassles. Okay?”

“No problem. I know you’ll have a great time. Besides, Martin is a wonderful guy.” Kelly smiled mischievously. “I’m sure the two of you will hit it off.”

“Kelly Patterson! You’re not trying to play matchmaker, are you?”

“Moi?” Kelly replied innocently.

“Yes, you!” Claire said. “I can get my own dates, thank you very much.”

“Oh, please!” Kelly replied. “Face it, honey. The only guys you get to meet with any degree of regularity are through your work, and they’re usually psychopaths. You might want to give some thought to raising the ol’ expectations bar a notch or two.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“Of course, I’m right! I’m always right,” Kelly chided. “That’s why I get paid the big bucks. And I’m right about tonight, too. You’re going to come home from work early, get that gorgeous self of yours all dolled up, and come out with me for a night on the town. Who knows, you might even get lucky.”

“Kelly!”

“Okay then. I might even get lucky.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Don’t forget cute.”

Kelly gave Claire a light kiss on the cheek. “I gotta go. I’m already running late. I just wanted to wait until you woke up to be sure you were okay. I’m meeting with my assistant in an hour to review tonight’s agenda. Are you still going to the clinic today?”

“I haven’t decided. I want to call police headquarters and speak to Inspector Maddox first.”

“The cop from last night?”

“Yes.”

“You already gave him your statement.”

“I did. But we have other matters to discuss relative to Walter Pennimore.”

Kelly turned back as she headed out the door. “You sure you’re gonna be okay?”

“Yes, I will. Thank you. You fuss over me way too much you know.”

“Of course, I do. That’s what besties are for.”

“You’re the best,” Claire said.

“You bet your ass I am!” Kelly called out as she bounded down the front steps to her car. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Claire smiled. “I’ll be there.”

12

CLAIRE RETRIEVED INSPECTOR Maddox’s business card from her purse and called the number.

“Homicide. Maddox speaking.”

“Inspector Maddox, this is Claire Prescott.”

“Good morning, Doctor,” Maddox replied. “I didn’t expect to hear from you until later in the day. How are you feeling?”

“Better, thank you. I need to see you this morning, if possible.”

“Sounds urgent.”

“It is.”

“If this is about last night, there’s really no need for you to come down. Our investigation is wrapped up. The security cameras at the clinic caught the whole thing on tape.”

“Do those cameras record audio and video?” Claire asked.

“No. Strictly video. Why?”

“Last night, before Mr. Pennimore was shot, he made a disturbing confession to me.”

“Yes,” Maddox replied. “I remember what you told me. Pennimore said your parent’s death wasn’t an accident after all, that they were killed, murdered.” The inspector was silent for a moment, then spoke. “Look, Doctor Prescott. I know you’re an expert in forensic psychiatry, so I won’t for one second profess to having the same knowledge or expertise on how the criminal mind works that you do. But from my experience, I know this much. Walter Pennimore was an extremely sick man. He’d been incarcerated or institutionalized for most of his adult life. It stands to reason he may have wanted to shock you into believing something that simply was not true.”

“Perhaps, Inspector,” Claire replied. “But I don’t think so. You said to me last night that you knew my father and that you respected his work.”

“That’s true. You won’t find a senior officer in this department who didn’t have the utmost respect for him.”

“Then I’m asking you for a personal favor. In his memory, if you will.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Re-open the investigation into my parent’s death, only this time approach it as a homicide.”

“From accidental death to murder,” Maddox answered apprehensively. “That’s quite a leap you’re asking me to take.”

“I know,” Claire said. “I’d prefer to go over the details with you in person. Would that be possible?”

“Of course.”

“Would 11:00 a.m. be too soon?”

“That will be fine.”

13

BY TEN O’CLOCK Claire had showered, dressed, and called her secretary to cancel her appointments. There would be no point in seeing patients today.

Though free of the fitful dreams that had haunted her throughout the night, she remained too preoccupied to concentrate on work. After her phone call with Inspector Maddox, she replayed the newsfeed article about the incident at the Mendelson Clinic. With each additional viewing, her need to know the truth grew stronger. She soon found it difficult to concentrate on anything else.

In the remaining minutes of his tortured existence, Walter Pennimore’s confession had annihilated all that Claire had believed and accept about her parent’s death. The honesty in his voice as he spoke his dying words presented her with the possibility of a more frightening reality, one that drove a stake of torment through to the very marrow of her