Silent Victim - C. E. Lawrence [32]
“You say she was worried about bein’ followed,” Butts said. “Who exactly did she think was following her?”
“Okay,” Santiago said, rubbing his forehead with the tips of his fingers, as if trying to massage away the cobwebs in his brain. He was beginning to look more focused now—his eyes were clearer, and when he spoke his voice was less monotone and distant. “She was seeing this crazy shrink. I thought he was a total quack and told her so—”
“How did she react to that?” Lee interjected.
“Man, she did not like that at all,” he said with a bitter little laugh. “Told me to go f—uh, screw myself. Said she had finally found someone who was going to help her unlock the secrets of her past, you know, and that I should just back off and let her do her thing. So I was like, all right, if that’s what you need to do that’s okay, just don’t expect me to agree with it. ‘Cause I really thought this guy was whacked, you know?”
“Dr. Perkins?” said Lee.
“Yeah, that’s his name. Why, do you know him?”
“No,” said Lee. “Did you ever meet him?”
“No, man, but I seen him once getting into his car when I picked her up there one time, and he had a look about him, you know?”
“What kinda look?” Butts said.
Santiago shrugged. “Just like, you know, the guy looked evil, man. I mean, he’s all thin and gaunt with a little goatee and everything. Christ, he looks like the devil. I know you can’t judge people from the way they look or anything, but this guy gave me the creeps.”
Butts looked at Lee and then back at Santiago. “So you never spoke to him?”
“No. I wanted to, but Ana said I couldn’t—that it would violate ‘doctor–patient confidentiality,’ or some bullshit like that, but I thought she was just trying to protect him. He had her under some kind of spell, if you ask me.”
“Like a magic spell, you mean?” Butts said.
Santiago froze, his eyes wide. “God, you don’t think—I mean, I know he’s whacked, but do you think he could have—”
“It’s very unlikely,” Lee reassured him. “We think Ana was the victim of someone who has killed before.”
“Really? So you might know who killed her?” Santiago searched their faces for a sign of hope.
“No. We don’t have an actual suspect yet,” Butts answered.
Santiago’s whole body seemed to deflate. He slumped back down in his chair, and his vacant stare returned. “I don’t know, man—maybe I could have done something to prevent this. I just don’t believe it. How could this happen to her? What did she ever do to anybody?”
“You said before she thought she was being followed,” Butts reminded him. “Did she say anything more about that, like who it might be?”
Santiago ran a hand through his curly black hair, which glistened in the afternoon sunlight streaming in through the row of windows. Outside, Lee could see the water of the Delaware sparkling silver in waves of reflected light.
“She was real secretive about that. She said she’d uncovered some kind of childhood abuse or trauma or something. I got the sense that the doc had spooked her so much that she believed whoever it was had come back to get her.”
“So you didn’t really believe her?” Lee asked.
“Naw, man, I just thought it was that crazy doctor, filling her head with all kinds of nonsense. That’s the thing about Ana: she’s—she was gullible, you know? She was always looking for answers, and when someone came along who looked like they had them, man, she was right there, first in line to get wisdom. The thing was, she wasn’t always good at judging people, so she could get hurt.” He shook his head sadly. “I tried to protect her—I always told her to question people’s motives more, that kind of thing.”
“Like with Dr. Perkins?” Lee asked.
“Yeah. That’s why, when we had that fight on Friday, she was so angry at me—because I didn’t believe her. Jesus,” he said softly. “Do you think