“What? I mean…yeah. You can pay me. I need some money. If you don’t want this information made public… Why wouldn’t you want it made public? This is about you, Mrs. Steel.”
Mrs. Steel? Odd. She was the deli owner’s daughter. She was here to protect Mrs. Steel. Mrs. Daphne Steel. People often mistook her for Daphne, but that was okay. She was here to protect Daphne.
“I think you have the wrong number,” the deli owner’s daughter said.
“I have the wrong number? You called me, remember?”
The deli owner’s daughter wrinkled her forehead. “No, I didn’t. I didn’t call anyone. You must have called me. Our special this week is corned beef.”
“For God’s sake. I need to talk to Brad Steel. Could you get him for me, please?”
“Hold on. I’ll see if he’s here in the deli.”
“The deli?”
“Yes, hold on a minute.” I put my hand over the receiver. “Is there a Brad Steel here?”
No response. Maybe she should use the intercom. Where was the button? She looked around. Hmm. Not where it usually was. She put the phone back up to her ear.
“I’m sorry. He doesn’t seem to be here.”
“The hell with this. I don’t know who you are, but you need to forget everything I just told you.”
“Of course. Have a wonderful day.” The deli owner’s daughter hung up the phone.
But she wouldn’t forget. She’d just keep the information from Daphne.
On the desk in front of her sat a crumpled note.
Dear Brad Steel,
* * *
How important is it to you that your wife never find out what happened to her? How much are you willing to pay?
* * *
I’ll wait for your call.
* * *
A friend
Hmm. Brad Steel. Daphne’s husband. Was the person who wrote this note the person who’d called? The deli owner’s daughter recited the names in her mind. She needed a mnemonic device.
Nah. She’d remember. If she could remember the names of all the thirty-three different kinds of ham in the deli, she could remember three names.
She tore the note into pieces and threw it in the wastebasket next to the desk.
Pull. Slice. Wrap. Hand to customer and smile. “What else can I get for you today?”
Logic. Logic and a system. So much better than emotion.
Where was she, anyway? Her father must have sent her on an errand to someone’s office.
Maybe—
She jerked at a baby’s cry.
Chapter Three
Brad
“From what I can tell, none of Daphne’s personalities are violent to the point of harming another human being, though one does appear to be aggressive. It’s also unlikely that any one of them would do anything that her main personality wouldn’t do.”
“Can you guarantee that?”
“A doctor can’t guarantee anything, Mr. Steel.”
“I can’t take the baby away from her. It would devastate her. She’s devoted to him.”
“I don’t believe she’s capable of harming anyone, especially her child.”
I heaved a sigh. “Thank God. I don’t either.”
“I would caution against her being left alone, though.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know enough about these personalities to say for sure that Daphne won’t harm herself.”
“Daphne would never leave me and the baby.”
“No, Daphne wouldn’t, but I’m not sure about her alternates.”
“Then we need to make sure she doesn’t dissociate.”
“That’s what I’m working on,” he said. “But like I’ve already told you, I can’t guarantee anything. In the meantime, is there anyone else in the house?”
“My mother, a housekeeper, and Daphne’s bodyguard.”
“Good. The less she’s left alone, the better. At least until I have a handle on whether she’ll dissociate again. I’d like to continue to see her twice a week for now. I’ve already worked it out with Maryann to use her Snow Creek office. It’s important.”
“Of course, and it goes without saying that you’ll be well compensated.”
“I’ll settle for my normal rate and no more threats to my life.”
I didn’t reply.
I wanted to tell him yes. I wanted to tell him I’d pay him my entire fortune and never threaten him again as long as he helped my sweet Daphne.
But I didn’t.
Something inside me stopped me.
The voice of my father? Intuition? My own voice?
I wasn’t sure.
“I’ll pay you what I feel is appropriate, Doctor. Nothing is more important to me than my wife and child. I want her whole. She deserves to live a wonderful life free from demons.”
I ended the call.
Perhaps I could ensure that Daphne would eventually be free from her demons.
Unfortunately, I’d never be free from mine.
I pulled into the large parking lot at Piney Oaks Mental Health Hospital in Grand Junction. Wendy had not yet been released, but she would be any day now. If I was going to ensure Daphne’s safety, I needed to talk to Wendy before she was free.
I’d been here once before—during the night to check to make sure she was here and not out wreaking havoc somewhere. I’d found her asleep in her bed, alone. I’d searched her room to make sure she wasn’t hiding her drugs.