CHAPTER FIVE
Dr. Cassandra Chen worked in an office building on Grove Avenue.
It was a converted Victorian house that had been tastefully renovated to accommodate several small professional practices.
Kate and DeMarco climbed the front steps and entered through a door marked with a discrete brass plaque listing the various therapists and counselors who worked inside.
The waiting area was small but comfortable, with soft lighting and neutral colors that suggested professional calm. A young woman sat behind a reception desk, speaking quietly into a headset while typing notes into her computer.
"We're here to see Dr. Chen," Kate said, approaching the desk right away and showing her badge. "FBI. We called ahead about Carol Bennett.”
The receptionist nodded and glanced at the clock on her computer screen. "Dr. Chen is just finishing up with a client. She should be available in about five minutes. You can have a seat if you'd like."
Kate and DeMarco settled into chairs near a small table covered with magazines focused on mental health and wellness. The atmosphere was deliberately soothing, with soft instrumental music playing at barely audible levels and several potted plants positioned around the room.
"What's your take on therapists who specialize in empty nesters?" DeMarco asked quietly.
"It’s definitely a niche specialty," Kate replied. "But then again, transitioning from active parenting to an empty house is a major life change. Some people struggle with it more than others."
“Did you, with Michelle?”
“For about half a year or so, yeah. But it just started to become the new normal for me. It wasn’t that I stopped missing her; it just became my mew way of life. If that makes sense.”
A door opened down the hallway, and they heard quiet voices as someone concluded a session. A middle-aged man emerged, nodded politely to the receptionist, and left through the front door. Moments later, a woman appeared in the hallway and started walking in their direction.
Dr. Cassandra Chen was probably in her early forties, with shoulder-length black hair styled in gentle waves and wire-rimmed glasses that gave her a scholarly appearance.
She wore a black blazer over a white blouse, coming off as professional but approachable.
Her posture was straight, and she moved with the confident bearing of someone comfortable in her professional environment.
"Agents Wise and DeMarco?" she asked, approaching them with an extended hand. "I'm Dr. Chen. I understand you wanted to speak with me about Carol Bennett."
"That's correct," Kate said, shaking her hand. "We appreciate you making time for us."
"Of course. I was saddened to learn about Carol's passing." Dr. Chen's expression was appropriately somber, though Kate noticed a certain clinical detachment in her tone. "I should mention that I have another client scheduled in half an hour, so I'll need to wrap up by then."
"We understand. Thank you for fitting us in."
“Follow me, please.”
Dr. Chen led them down a short hallway lined with framed certificates and diplomas.
Her office was located at the end, a corner room with two large windows that filled the space with natural light.
The room was decorated in warm earth tones, with a comfortable-looking couch positioned across from two matching chairs.
A small fountain sat on a side table, providing gentle background sound, and several pieces of abstract art hung on the walls.
It looked more like a small lounge than a psychiatrist’s office.
"Please, have a seat," Dr. Chen said, gesturing toward the chairs while she settled onto the couch. "How can I help you understand what happened to Carol?"
"We're investigating the circumstances of her death," Kate began. "We understand she was a regular patient of yours."
"Yes, Carol had been seeing me for about twenty months. She began seeing me about two months after her husband died. She was referred to me by her primary care physician for help managing anxiety related to her grief and the adjustment to living alone."
"Can you tell us about her general state of mind recently?"
Dr. Chen paused, clearly considering her words carefully. "I need to be mindful of patient confidentiality, even after death. I’m sure you understand.”
“Of course. But anything you can share with us could be very helpful.”
“Well, I can tell you that Carol's emotional state had been... complicated recently."
"Complicated how?" DeMarco asked.
"As you probably know, her adult son Jake moved back home recently after losing his job. This created some conflicting feelings for Carol that we'd been working through in our sessions."
"What kind of conflicting feelings?"
Dr. Chen adjusted her glasses and chose her words carefully. "Carol was genuinely happy to have Jake home again. She'd been struggling with loneliness since her husband's death, and having her son back in the house provided comfort and purpose. However, I had some concerns about the arrangement."
"What concerns are those?" Kate asked.
"In my professional opinion, Carol was making a mistake by allowing Jake to return home so willingly. A few days would have been fine, perhaps even beneficial for both of them. But long-term cohabitation between adult children and their parents often creates unhealthy dynamics. And it often occurs without either party knowing it’s happening. "
Kate found Dr. Chen's clinical tone interesting. While her words expressed concern for Carol's wellbeing, her delivery was detached and analytical rather than emotionally invested.
"Can you be more specific about these unhealthy dynamics?"
"Certainly,” Chen said. She studied Kate for a moment, as if trying to see if she was being purposefully challenged.
“When adult children return to the family home, it often prevents proper adult development and creates codependency issues.
The child may become too comfortable relying on parental support, while the parent may derive unhealthy satisfaction from being needed again. "
"Did Carol share your concerns about these potential issues?" Kate asked.
"That's where things became complicated. Carol understood the theoretical risks, but emotionally, she was resistant to setting appropriate boundaries. She wanted to help Jake, but she was also fulfilling her own need to feel useful and needed again."
Kate studied Dr. Chen's expression, noting the way she discussed Carol's emotional state with professional distance rather than personal warmth. "How long had you been working with Carol on these issues?"
"Since Jake moved back home, so approximately two weeks. Only two sessions. But Carol's anxiety wasn't limited to this situation."
“We understand that you specialize in working with empty nesters,” Kate said. "So I assume you work with other patients dealing with adult children returning home. Would that be accurate?"
"Yes…and it’s becoming increasingly common, actually. Economic factors often force adult children to return to their parents' homes, which can reactivate old family dynamics in ways that aren't always healthy for anyone involved."
Dr. Chen glanced at the clock on her desk, clearly mindful of her upcoming appointment. Kate decided to focus on more specific information about Carol's treatment before they were politely asked to leave.
"Dr. Chen, I'd like to ask about Carol's treatment beyond individual therapy. Was she involved in any group programs or additional support?"
Dr. Chen hesitated for a moment, apparently weighing confidentiality concerns against the needs of the investigation.
"Again, I should stress that there is only so much I can tell you because of doctor-patient confidentiality. But… I suppose I’m not betraying that trust to tell you that Carol had been participating in a support group I run for empty nesters.
It meets weekly, and she'd been attending regularly for several months. "
"How was she responding to group therapy?"
"I didn't see a huge change, but I think it may have been helpful for Carol in some ways.
I think it was just comforting for her to know that other people struggled with similar feelings.
However, the situation with Jake complicated her progress.
Some group members were supportive of her decision to help him, while others agreed with my assessment that she was enabling unhealthy dependence. "
Kate found this dynamic interesting… if not a little messed up. She understood the therapeutic necessity of it, but it also seemed like nothing more than a lot of people judging someone else.
DeMarco shifted in her chair as if she was growing uncomfortable with the conversation. "Did Carol ever express concerns about her safety or mention anyone who might wish her harm?"
"Nothing like that, no,” Dr. Chen said as if it were a completely ridiculous notion.
“Carol's anxiety was focused on internal emotional issues rather than external threats.
She was concerned about making the right decisions for Jake's future and managing her own adjustment to this new living arrangement. "
Kate reached into her bag and pulled out her phone, scrolling to the photos she'd taken of Carol's prescription bottles when they’d been looking through the house. "I'd like to show you something. These are medications we found in Carol's bedroom. Can you tell us which ones you prescribed for her?"
Dr. Chen examined the photos carefully, adjusting her glasses to see the labels clearly.
"I prescribed the anxiety medication," she said, pointing to one of the images.
"The lorazepam. But none of the others. Her primary care physician would have handled the blood pressure medication and antidepressant, I assume. "
"And do the dosage and frequency look correct for what you prescribed?"
Dr. Chen studied the image and nodded. “Yes, that appears consistent with my prescription. Carol was generally compliant with her medication regimen and reported good results from the anxiety medication."
Kate studied Dr. Chen's reaction to the photos, noting that she showed no particular surprise or concern about the other medications. "Did Carol ever mention having trouble sleeping or needing additional sedation?"
"I believe she occasionally had problems sleeping, but that was much further back, closer to her husband’s death. But we addressed those concerns through therapy techniques and the prescribed anxiety medication. She never requested anything stronger."
Dr. Chen glanced at the clock again, and Kate realized their time was nearly up. "In your professional opinion, was Carol's mental state consistent with someone who might harm herself?" Kate asked.
"Not from anything I had seen. If she was having such thoughts, she was hiding them very well.
Despite her anxiety about the situation with Jake, Carol was not suicidal or self-destructive.
She was actively engaged in therapy and committed to working through her challenges.
" Dr. Chen's response was immediate and confident.
"And her relationship with Jake? Any signs of serious conflict or resentment?"
"From Carol's perspective, no. She genuinely loved Jake and wanted to support him.
My concerns were about the long-term implications of their arrangement, not about any immediate interpersonal problems." She then got to her feet and frowned at them.
"I'm sorry, but I really need to prepare for my next session. "
"Of course," Kate said, rising from her chair. "Thank you for your time. If we have additional questions, may we contact you again?"
"That would be fine. I hope you're able to determine what happened to Carol. Despite my professional concerns about some of her choices, she was a good person who deserved better than this."
As they prepared to leave Dr. Chen's office, Kate found herself with mixed impressions of the therapist. Her information about Carol's emotional state and the family dynamics was valuable, but her clinical detachment and strong opinions about adult children living with parents seemed to color her perspective in ways that might not fully capture Carol's experience.
As they walked back to their car, Kate reflected on what they'd learned.
Dr. Chen's perspective on Carol's situation was certainly relevant, but it also revealed potential biases that might have influenced her treatment approach. The information about the support group was particularly intriguing and might warrant further investigation. Then again, she knew they’d find the same hurdles with such a group—confidentiality and going on nothing more than the vague opinions of others.
"What did you think of her?" DeMarco asked as they reached the car.
"Professional, knowledgeable, but maybe a little too attached to her theoretical framework," Kate replied. "A little cold, really.”
“Yeah. I thought so, too. Sort of frigid.”
“It gave us a decent peek into Carol’s life, though,” Kate added. “And it also gives us something of a clue to look into.”
“The support groups?” DeMarco asked.
“Maybe.”
But even then, both women knew it was a flimsy lead at best. "Well, Kate… I'm not trying to tell you what to do, but you may as well go home. It's already 3:30, and let's face it… this case isn't going to be exciting enough to warrant pulling you away from your family."
Honestly, Kate felt the same way. But it was agony to think about walking away from a case with so many unanswered questions.
But DeMarco was right. This wasn’t going to be a brain-buster at all.
She should get back to her family and prove to Allen that she could balance these two parts of her life.
“Yeah, I agree with that,” she said as they got into the car. “You mind taking me my car? And just be sure to keep me posted. I’d still like to know how it all turns out.”
“Yeah, of course.”
DeMarco started the car and pulled out into the afternoon traffic, light and not yet affected by the rush hour lag.
Kate could already feel the sting of disappointment—of walking away from a case without officially solving it.
But she knew it might very well also be the best way to force herself to walk away from a career that had somehow called her back after so long.