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Chapter Three

Rachel shrugged out of her navy blue blazer and draped it over the arm of the comfortable wing chair before taking a seat in her psychologist’s office. Her first visits to Dr. Stephen Lindquist’s had been awkward and strained and had always ended with her in tears.

That had been in late September, during the first weeks after she’d been rescued by her sister, Sydney, and Sydney’s now husband, Tucker Lawrence. Rachel had been a total wreck then, the panic attacks hitting with excessive regularity and crippling ferocity.

Work was impossible. Sleep deprivation was taking its toll.

Not atypical with her degree of post-traumatic stress, Dr. Lindquist had assured her. His skill and easy manner had quickly won her over, yet she wasn’t making the kind of progress she’d hoped for.

She couldn’t bring herself to talk about her experience in captivity. Couldn’t deal with the fact that if her sister and Tucker had come moments later she would have been burned alive.

Talking or thinking about it brought it all back to life.

Dr. Lindquist settled in his rustic-brown leather chair. “Good to see you, Rachel.”

“Thanks for fitting me in on a Friday afternoon with such short notice,” she said.

“You sounded a bit panicky on the phone.”

“I was. I am.” She clasped her hands in her lap. “I had a major meltdown at work this morning.” Her voice cracked. She wrapped her arms around her chest as if that could calm her shattered nerves.

“Take a few deep breaths,” Dr. Lindquist suggested. “There’s no rush. You’re my last appointment for the day. You have me as long as you need me.”

“Thanks, but you may be sorry you offered that.”

“I won’t be. Is it the nightmares again?”

“No, though I still have them from time to time. It’s just that every time I seem to be getting in control of my fears, something happens to send me back into the self-destruction spiral.”

“You’re dealing with a lot. A little backsliding is to be expected. We’ve talked about that.”

“I know. But this is more than a little backsliding. I may have blown my career.”

The doctor crossed an ankle over his knee. “Why don’t you tell me what happened from the beginning?”

“I suppose you’ve heard that Senator Covey’s son, Hayden, has been arrested.”

“No way to miss it. The murder of his ex-girlfriend is dominating the news. I’m sure the senator and his wife are devastated.”

“And desperate. I didn’t know it until this morning, but the senator is a good friend of my boss, Eric Fitch Sr.”

“Guess that means your firm will be defending Hayden.”

“It looks that way. I was offered the chance to be the lead attorney in charge of his defense.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“Troubled. Confused. Anxious.” Her muscles tightened and she felt a nagging ache at her right temple.

“It’s the kind of high-profile case that can make or break a defense attorney,” she continued, “the kind of opportunity I’ve been waiting for. The kind I thought I was ready for.”

“And now you’re not sure. What changed your mind?”

“Doubts that I can handle the job. Thoughts that I don’t want to handle the job.”

He leaned in closer. “Go on.”

“Senator and Mrs. Covey brought their son into the office this morning for a preliminary interview. As I shook hands with Hayden, I stared into the cold, barren intensity of his predatory eyes and an icy shiver ran though me. In that second, it was as if I knew that he was capable of murder.

“No evidence had been presented. It was nothing Hayden had said or done. I just looked into his eyes and saw Roy Sales.”

“What did you do?”

“I mumbled something about feeling ill, which I was, and then stood and staggered out of the meeting.”

Rachel covered her eyes with her hands, fighting back salty tears of frustration. Her life had changed forever. Now the past was destroying her career with no relief in sight.

“If it turns out Hayden Covey is guilty of the brutal murder of his former girlfriend, I’d say your assessment of him is right on target,” the doctor said.

“Which doesn’t excuse my unprofessional behavior.”

“Have you talked to your boss about the incident?”

“Not yet. I think he was with the Coveys the rest of the morning, but I’m sure it’s just a matter of time until he confronts me about my reaction. I’ll be lucky if I’m not fired. My boss put me to the test and I failed miserably.”

“Failure is a strong word.”

“And not one I’m used to,” she admitted. “But nothing is what I’m used to anymore and I’m tired of having my friends and coworkers feel sorry for me instead of seeing me as an equal.”

“I’m sure most of them mean well,” Dr. Lindquist said.

“I know, but it’s not the way I want to live.”

“Maybe it’s time you changed your life. Go somewhere where everyone doesn’t know about your past.”

“You’re starting to sound like my sister, Dr. Lindquist, and I get her advice for free.”

“What kind of advice does she give you?”

“Stop putting so much pressure on myself. She thinks I should quit the firm and spend some time finding myself again—away from the world of defending people accused of violent crimes.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“You know, Doctor, sometimes I wish you’d just give me answers instead of trying to lead me to work my way through the impossible maze.”

An unexpected smile touched the doctor’s lips. “Sometimes I wish I could, too. Unfortunately, that’s not the way this works. The real answers must come from you.

“So, back to the question. How do you feel about Sydney’s suggestion that you take a less stressful job for a while, maybe a change of scenery, as well?”

“It feels like I’d be giving up. It feels like I would have lost and Roy Sales has won.”

“Any other considerations?”

As usual, she had the feeling Dr. Lindquist was seeing right through her. “There are times I long to walk away from it all,” she admitted reluctantly. “But working for a prominent law firm was the dream that got me through law school. So much time and work have been invested into that dream. I can’t just throw that away.”

“Sometimes dreams change.”

“Or they can be changed for you.”

“Have you considered other career options?”

“Not exactly, but I have a friend who specializes in working with charitable organizations—handles lawsuits and tax issues for them and works with people who wish to set up foundations or donate money in their wills. She loves it. Says she always feels like she’s on the right side.”

“That has a lot of plusses?” the doctor said.

“Then is just walking away from my job what you think I should do?”

“It’s what you think you should do that matters, Rachel. I don’t see that as giving up. Sometimes changing life paths is the most difficult decision of all.”

“I never looked at it that way.”

“You’re a tough, smart woman with good instincts. You’ll make the right decision for you. It just takes time.”

“You have more confidence in me than I do in myself.”

“You’ll get there. I am puzzled, though, why Eric Sr. didn’t just take the lead on this case himself.”

“He’s concerned his friendship with the senator might bias the jury against him. And he claims that I’d be more effective at convincing the jury of Hayden’s innocence.”

“Because of your own past? Your opinion of Hayden Covey would likely count for a lot, considering what you’ve been through.”

She thought painstakingly about Dr. Lindquist’s comment and then cringed as the truth about Eric’s more likely motives took root. He didn’t think she was the most capable defense attorney at the firm.

He was using her, putting his faith in the jurors pitying her and believing she’d never defend Hayden unless she fully believed in his innocence.

Her insides twisted. She had no proof of the theory, but it made sense. How had she not seen that before?

By the time the session with Dr. Lindquist was finished and she reached her car, her decision had been made.

If she hurried, she could catch the most senior partner before he left the office.

She couldn’t go on being a victim forever. She had to fight back.

Dropping The Hammer

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