Читать книгу Before She Was Found - Heather Gudenkauf, Heather Gudenkauf - Страница 19

Dr. Madeline Gideon

September 14, 2018

“What do you think?” Dr. Soto asked. “Would you like to meet Cora?”

“Sure, why not?” I remember saying.

Dr. Soto rapped his knuckles gently against the window to announce our arrival and then slid the door open. “Mr. and Mrs. Landry, this is Dr. Gideon. She is the mental health professional I was speaking of. Dr. Gideon, this is Jim and Mara Landry, Cora’s parents.”

“Hello,” I said and extended my hand out to Mr. Landry. “I’m sorry to hear about what happened to Cora. How’s she doing?”

Jim clasped my hand and gave it a shake. His skin felt rough and dry against my own. Almost reptilian. “Not great. Look at her,” he said, voice shaking. “Some maniac stabbed her.”

“She’s going in for surgery soon,” Mara said and swiped at her tears with a soggy tissue. She was a slip of a woman who looked as if she could collapse beneath the weight of her worry. “Dr. Soto says the surgeons here are very good.”

“He’s right,” I agreed. “World-class. She’s in the best hands. Cora has been through an awful ordeal and so have you. Please know that we have many supports that you might find beneficial to Cora and to your family...”

“Listen, Dr. Gideon,” Jim said, his voice tight with forced patience. “I don’t want to be rude, but honestly a psychiatrist is the last thing that Cora needs right now. The last thing we need right now. What we need is for Cora to get into surgery so that the doctor can try and put her face back together.” Jim’s volume rose with each word until his wife reached for his arm and shushed him. I got the feeling she had to do this often. “What I need—” Jim lowered his voice “—is a crowbar and five minutes alone with whoever did this to my daughter.”

“Jim, stop,” Mara said, dissolving once again into tears.

“I’m sorry,” Jim said as if surprised by the intensity of his own anger. “I’m going to go see if the police have any more information.” He brushed roughly past us and out of the room.

“He’s scared,” Mara explained. “It’s just so hard seeing her like this. He hates that he wasn’t there to help her.”

“Don’t be sorry. I understand.” I pressed my business card into Mara’s hand. “Please call me if you need anything or if I can answer any questions. I often work with children and families who have experienced traumatic events.”

“Thank you.” Mara sniffed. “But I don’t think so.”

“Is there someone I can call for you? A family member or friend to come sit with you during surgery?” I asked. Support systems are crucial during tragedies such as this.

“My parents are on their way with our other daughter,” Mara said. “They should be here soon. But thank you.”

I smiled and lightly touched Mara on the shoulder as Dr. Soto slid the door open.

In silence we walked to the bank of elevators. “Maybe after the surgery the Landrys will be more open to visiting with you,” Dr. Soto said. “I worry about Mr. Landry. He’s a very angry man.”

“Mrs. Landry does seem more approachable,” I agreed. “But I don’t expect a call from either of them. I can drop by Cora’s room later today and check on them.”

“Thank you again, Madeline,” Dr. Soto said as he took his leave. “I owe you a favor.”

I remember the elevator doors opening and inside was a young couple clutching hands. The man—a boy, really—held an empty car seat in his free hand and the girl pressed her face into his shoulder. He averted his gaze as if embarrassed by his red, swollen eyes.

“I’ll grab the next one,” I said and turned away. Down the hallway, Mr. Landry was speaking to a police officer. Though I wasn’t able to see his face and couldn’t quite make out what he was saying, I could hear the frustration in his voice. The policeman stood placidly by, allowing him to say his piece. I knew that the father’s anger was understandable, normal even, but Jim Landry seemed to be becoming unhinged. Finally, the police officer held his hand up as if to silence Mr. Landry.

“Do not tell me to calm down!” Mr. Landry’s voice filled the corridor, causing people to stop and stare.

The elevator doors slid open and I reluctantly stepped inside. I had been in the presence of the Landrys for just a few minutes and already recognized the hallmarks of a family ready to implode. And there was something about Jim Landry that in my line of work had become much too familiar to me. Angry, aggressive men who liked to be in control, whatever the cost.

I wish I had paid more attention to this—the family dynamics. Would things have turned out differently? Maybe not. I became so fixated on Cora and how she was dealing with the trauma of the attack and her injuries that I missed the bigger picture—what happened before they found her and why it all happened in the first place.