Rage

Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Dr. Helena Lawson

(Two Years Later)

“ G ood morning, Marcus,” I said into my cell phone, as I placed my suitcase on the bed of my hotel.

“Good morning, Doctor. How was your flight to Omaha?” Marcus Jacobs asked, my contact with the Behavioral Analysis Unit at the FBI.

“It was pleasant, no complaints here. I spent a good amount of time looking at our Miss Tara Wilde’s file. Poor girl has had a rough life,” I said, stepping out of my pumps and pulling my confidential file on my newest patient out of my briefcase.

“Yes, it’s truly a shame. I have scheduled an interview for you with Miss Wilde at eleven in the morning at the Nebraska State ICI. Please let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Marcus. I will have an update for you after I meet with her.” We disconnected our call, and I picked up Tara’s file, opening it across my lap.

“Alright Miss Wilde, let’s see.”

Tara was diagnosed with Conduct Disorder at six years old; which is an odd diagnosis. Typically, a diagnosis of this type is given a little later in life at age eight.

She has had… eight psychiatrists in her past.

My god, the poor girl.

Flipping to the next page in her file, a report done by a Dr. Timothy Halloway, he was suspecting her to have a psychopathy disorder.

Miss Wilde shows signs of psychopathy and Antisocial Personality Disorder. While the two always go hand in hand, hers is quite the special case. She shows the following traits as noted from previous in person sessions, and reports from foster family and social workers.

Lack of empathy and remorse

Manipulativeness

Impulsivity

Extreme risk taking

Lack of concern for hers and others’ safety

The following behaviors and social patterns have been noted as well

Animal mutilation

Pathological lying

Antisocial behaviors

Shallow and short-lived emotional experiences

Inability to feel deep emotions

Love, grief, fear

Inability to maintain long-term relationships

Friendships, relationships with foster family members

Extremely callous disregard for others’ feelings and rights

Interpersonal relationships are driven by dominance, exploitation, and a lack of reciprocity.

We have begun Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy to address her violent urges and lack of impulse control. We have seen no success with this treatment.

Closing the file with a snap, I tossed it to the side. This poor girl was used as a study subject, rather than trying to actually treat the underlying causes or environmental factors that contributed to this “psychosis.”

If this Dr. Timothy Halloway had not died in his house fire, he’d make a fine meal for me…

With my portfolio notebook in hand, I walked into the Nebraska State Institution for the Criminally Insane. It was a cool winter morning, and I unbuttoned my peacoat as I entered the building.

A kind young receptionist greeted me at the front desk.

“Good morning, Doctor Lawson, we’ve been excited to have you with us today!” She greeted eagerly, and a grin tugged at my lips.

“Good morning to you, my dear. I have an eleven o’clock appointment with Miss Tara Wilde,” I said professionally.

The things we could do to her…

My darkness whispered in my mind, but I shut her out, trying to maintain my composure.

“Yes, the warden will see you now to take you to meet her, right this way, please!” She stood from her desk, her strawberry blonde curls bounced as she took light steps. Her hips swayed side to side in her modest pencil skirt; intoxicating.

Following her down the hall to the warden’s office, she knocked gently on his door.

“Mr. Daly? Doctor Lawson is here to see Miss Wilde,” she said with a wink, before turning back to her desk.

“Thank you, Elaine,” Miles Daly replied as she walked away.

Elaine… I like that name.

“I hope you had a pleasant flight from the FBI headquarters, Doctor.” Miles stood from his desk motioning me to follow.

“I did, thank you. So, what can you tell me about Miss Wilde?” I asked, preparing my notes as we walked.

“She refuses to speak. Miss Wilde has been here two years and has said a handful of words, refusing to cooperate with any therapists or doctors,” Miles said, sounding exasperated.

“Oh? What words has she said? That could help in my profile.”

“All she has said to staff is the name Alaina, and the words bag, knife, and hurry. Quite odd.”

I noted these words down in my notebook for future reference.

“I’m familiar with Alaina, her girlfriend. She went missing when Tara was arrested after the murder of Ronald Adler, or ‘Ro’, as he was called. I found her with the help of the FBI, and she will be arriving to join me shortly,” I said with dominance.

“Yes, Doctor. We will bring her to you as soon as she arrives. Here we are. Tara is the last cell on the left. Please avoid touching the glass and handing anything through the holes. We left out a chair for you, and have the cameras rolling. If you need anything at all, just say so out loud and we will respond in seconds.”

“Thank you, Miles.”

Turning to walk down the hallway towards Tara’s cell, the clicking of my high heels echoed off the walls. My darkness hummed in my mind, ready to assess our Miss Wilde.

If she is what I feel she is, we must help her. She will be instrumental in my plan with the FBI. I said to my darkness in my mind.

Your plan with young Camden Sullivan, I assume? She replied.

Yes, Camden. That young prodigy and I have plans. He just doesn’t know it yet.

Reaching Tara’s cell, I stood next to the folding chair the warden had left out for me.

“Good morning, Miss Wilde. My name is Doctor Helena Lawson, and I’m here to speak with you,” I said calmly, sitting down in the chair. She was in her state issued white jumpsuit, with her back to me.

Her long, beautiful black hair was a tangled mess, and she had scratches up and down both arms. With her back still to me, she turned her head to speak.

“I’ve heard it all before, Doctor. What do you want me to say? Daddy touched me in the wrong places? Mommy didn’t love me enough? I killed that fucker because I could, and that’s all there is to it, so spare me all the shrink bullshit and leave me alone.”

Mmm, she’s perfect.

My attention was drawn to the end of the hall, where the warden had a timid-looking Alaina standing in front of him. I nodded, motioning for her to come.

“Tell me, Tara. What do I need to do to earn your trust? I’m an open book,” I purred, gauging her reaction.

“Something you can never give me, Doctor,” Tara spat.

“And what might that be, Tara? Because I’m confident that you’ll like what you see.”

Alaina joined me at my side, covering her mouth timidly with tears streaming down her cheeks. She was skinny, pale, exhausted, and one year sober.

“T-Tara…” Alaina whispered.

Tara whipped her body around so fast, running up to the glass, pressing her palms to it, trying to reach for her.

“Alaina… Alaina… Oh my god. Alaina…” Tara fell to her knees sobbing, and Alana followed her to the floor, reaching for her.

“I’m so sorry, my dear. We cannot touch the glass,” I cradled Alania as she sobbed in my arms.

“Please, Doctor, please. You have to help her, please…” She sobbed relentlessly into my shoulder as Tara watched, her own eyes became glassy with tears.

“Alaina, I love you,” Tara confessed. “I don’t feel a damn thing except the love I have for you. It’s always been there since we met, I just…I didn’t know what it was. I love you, baby girl. Please know that,” Tara sniffled, burying her face in her hands.

“Tara, I love you too. So much. I got sober for you. My life is for you.”

Pressing a button on my phone that I had rigged this morning to disable the audio on the surveillance cameras, I released Alaina from my arms.

“Tara, you listen to me, my dear. They cannot hear us, but it will only last thirty seconds. I know you have an eidetic memory, so listen closely. Tomorrow at noon, you are being brought to a physician’s office for a physical. Once you are there, you are to locate the handcuff key I will leave in the doctor’s drawer in their office; top right. You will be handcuffed to a wheelchair, so you will need to figure that out.”

Tara stared at me, studying my every word, imprinting it to her memory.

“Once you exit the rear of the building, there will be a white Ford Focus with an Alabama license plate; the keys will be in the ignition and ready. There is an address written on a card that will be in the center console with an envelope of cash. You will go to this location, tell no one, and meet me there. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Doctor.” Tara said with purpose.

“Is everything okay here, Doctor? We lost the signal on the cameras for a moment.” The warden came running in just as we finished our conversation. Alaina was in a stunned silence, and I placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Everything is fine, warden. Tara here does not feel the need to cooperate with me today, so I will take my leave. I will not press her if she is not ready. Good day, Tara.”

Guiding Alaina out of the hall with me, the heavy metal door locked behind us, leaving Tara in her cell alone.

“I apologize, Doctor, it’s been the same with us regarding Miss Wilde,” the warden shrugged, opening the front door of his facility for Alaina and I.

“It’s quite alright, it takes time to build trust. I will return soon, very soon.”