Dark Legacy by Jen Talty (best non fiction books to read .TXT) 📕

“Thanks.” In all the years Shannon had been a therapist, she’d only lost three patients to suicide or drug overdose.

But tonight, she’d lost one to an apparent suicide, and the other…well, she hadn’t been given a cause of death yet on Belinda.

The doors to the unit opened. Two policemen and two men in suits stood at the nurses’ station. At the far end of the unit, the hospital morgue placed Gretchen Carson’s lifeless body on a gurney. They covered her face with a white, blood-stained sheet.

Erica, the nurse from earlier, talked with one of the men in suits. She had a cut on her face, just under her right eye, and her left arm sported a sling. She pointed to Shannon. The man turned and waved for Shannon to come over.

“I’m detective Rizzoli,” he said. “I understand you are the deceased’s psychologist.”

“Yes. The name is Dr. Shannon Brendel. I’ve been seeing Gretchen for about a year now.”

“We were told you were here earlier this evening. What was Miss Carson’s demeanor?”

“She was stable, for the most part. She’d just come off a binge that nearly killed her. Dr. Franklin prescribed some medications to help her come down and stabilize her mood. When I left her, she was still angry, but I didn’t consider her a threat to herself or others. Neither did Dr. Franklin.”

“Erica, the nurse, mentioned that Miss Carson had been yelling at Dr. Franklin as she attacked him. Things like how he deserved to die.”

“That doesn’t sound like my patient. I’ve never known her to be violent with others,” Shannon said. Gretchen had said numerous times that she’d like to see her mother dead, but not once had she ever done anything remotely violent to the person who had caused her incredible agony. So, going after Franklin seemed way out of character.

“The nurse mentioned that Miss Carson also said she was coming after you. Would she have reason to be upset with you?”

“Of course, she did. I’m her therapist. While I provide a safe, non-judgmental environment for my patients, I’m not their friend, and it’s my job to call them on their destructive behaviors.” Shannon stuffed her hands deep into her pockets. She hadn’t meant to sound defensive. The detective was just doing his job.

Covering all his bases.

Even if that meant pushing her buttons.

“So, is it safe to assume you were who she was angry with when you left? You did say she was angry,” the detective said.

“She deflected her anger on me, which is common. However, in my professional opinion, she wasn’t in a psychotic state when I left.” Shannon couldn’t imagine what could have happened to send Gretchen off the deep end. Not even Dr. Franklin’s condescending attitude should have been enough to push the young woman into a murdering frenzy.

“Anything else you think we should know?”

Shannon shook her head.

“We’re going to need her patient files.”

“They are in my office across the street.” Shannon pulled out one of her business cards. “I’ll need the proper paperwork before I hand them over.”

“Not a problem,” the detective said. “We’ll call before we stop by. Probably early afternoon.” The detective walked toward his partner, who was still talking with the morgue personnel.

It was nearly five in the morning, and Shannon wanted to check on Dr. Franklin. She called the desk, and they informed her that he’d survived the surgery but was still in critical condition. They couldn’t let her in to see him. While driving home would only take her about twenty minutes or so considering there was no traffic, by the time she got there, she’d only have maybe an hour, then it would be time to head back to the office. There was no point in doing that.

For a brief moment, she thought about canceling her appointments for the day, but the thought of not being busy made her skin crawl. Her patients needed her. And right now, she needed them.

Sitting in the corner of the waiting room, she pulled out her phone and texted Jackson.

Shannon: I will be at my office all day. Can you send me what you know regarding Belinda?

Jackson: So far, all I have is they confirmed it’s Belinda and are investigating as if it’s a murder. That means the police will be tight-lipped. Is everything okay? I’m worried about you.

She wasn’t sure if she should be flattered by his sweetness…

Concerned he was getting way too close…

Or both.

Shannon: I had another client die today. So, no, I’m not okay.

Jackson: Shit. Sorry. Where are you?

Shannon: Saratoga Hospital, but headed to my office.

Thank goodness she had a clean set of clothes and a shower thanks to the fact that her office building used to be a home. She couldn’t wait to stand under the hot water until it ran winter cold.

Jackson: I’ll be by in an hour with some coffee and a breakfast sandwich. I have to do one thing first but hang tight.

Shannon: Okay. Thanks.

Who was she to argue? It wasn’t like she needed the man to feel safe. No. It was just because he was working a case that involved her patient.

Besides, she was hungry.

At least, that was the excuse she gave herself.

“Dr. Brendel?” Detective Rizzoli stepped into the waiting room. “Mind if I ask you a couple of additional questions?”

“Not at all.” She stood, smoothing down her untamed hair.

“Do you agree with the medication the doctor on call prescribed?”

She nodded. “But I’m not a prescribing doctor. It’s not my specialty.”

“But it’s what you would have suggested, correct?”

“Again, I can’t make that call. When any of my patients take medication, it’s always through a medical doctor. I discuss my therapy findings with the practitioner so they can make an informed decision about my recommendation.”

“So, you do make a suggestion, and you play a large role in finding the right dosage.”

She nodded, not understanding why any of this was important.

“You and Dr. Franklin don’t get along, do you?” the detective asked as he flipped open his notebook.

“We’ve had our differences, but we always come together