2 – Dr. Weiss
DR. WEISS
I could stare at that woman for the rest of my life and never run out of ways to analyze her.
With her deep green eyes, lush pink lips, and natural auburn hair, Sadie possesses an Old Hollywood type of beauty. It’s the type that makes strangers stop and stare—to see if she’ll disappear like a figment of a fantasy or remain breathtakingly real.
She’s also incapable of taking a bad photo.
There’s an entire true crime-obsession industry where her various mugshots and prison photos are featured on “Not Too Pretty to Murder You” coffee mugs, “Don’t Let These Pretty Eyes Fool You” sweatshirts, and “Psychopaths Can Be Pretty, Too” keychains.
There’s even a subreddit dedicated to her eyes: /sadieprettyirises .
Visions of that pink ice cream dripping down her chin—slick and glistening wet—have all frozen themselves into my memory.
The act was perfectly obscene, innocent, and borderline intentional…
I’ve worked with thousands of attractive female patients in my career, but none of them have ever left a first impression like her. And none of them have ever made me want to risk a kiss based on one glance or made me wonder what a mere caress would feel like.
Fuck. I touched her lips already…
“Secure the A-Pod and lock down the ALT ward!” the warden barks into his walkie, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Which team is covering the mental health wing? I need answers within the next five seconds!”
I glance at the beautiful skull portrait he deemed “ugly” and question his taste. The details in every stroke are incomparable, and this will probably come in handy while she lives with me in the cabin soon.
“I’m so sorry, Dr. Weiss.” He pulls on a bulletproof vest. “It looks like your grand tour of my prison will have to take place on another day.”
“Not a problem.” I shrug. “This place isn’t exactly Disneyland.”
“No, but our attractions are a lot cheaper.” He laughs at his own joke. “Speaking of which, why the fuck are you trying to redeem someone like Sadie Pretty?”
“Come again?” The sudden coldness in his eyes catches me off guard.
“There are tons of other inmates—ones who actually might be innocent—who are far more deserving of your time than her. Hell, if you back out of this foolishness now, I’ll give you a list.”
“I’m confused… I thought you liked her.”
“I like her talent,” he says. “I like that she doesn’t give my staff any trouble, and I definitely like the way she looks. But that’s where it ends. She’s a triple-murderer, and she’s exactly where she belongs.”
I arch a brow, still confused as hell. Long before I accepted Sadie, several legal and criminal specialists came to this exact office and explained that there’s a possibility she really might be innocent.
That even if she’s rejected at her next parole hearing, she may walk away with a chance at a new trial or a suspended sentence.
“She’s maintained her innocence since day one, Warden,” I say. “She’s never changed her story.”
“Okay, and? So has every other inmate who’s waiting for their appeals to run out.
” He scoffs. “If I were you, I’d trust the jury’s judgment and use your woo-woo science on someone else.
Besides, the moment you run the first test, you’ll see that she’s crazy as hell and you’ll be begging me to lock her back up. ”
“With all due respect?—”
“Someone get me the status of the gates on the east side!” he yells into his walkie-talkie before I can say another word. Then he motions for me to follow him through another exit door.
Tactical guards run past us in a steady formation, their black helmets gleaming under the prison’s barbed-wire towers. Sirens continue to wail in the air.
Tucking Sadie’s painting under my arm, I follow him across the courtyard of ugly gray buildings.
“The receptionist has all of Sadie’s files and her pre-lock-up possessions for you,” he says once we reach the reception center. “Every disciplinary infraction, therapist note, even scans of every letter she’s ever sent or received. Good luck with her and her case, Dr. Weiss. I’m rooting for you.”
“Do you honestly mean that?”
“Fuck no.” He laughs. “I’m looking forward to reading about Sadie being your program’s first failure two weeks from now. It was nice to finally meet you in person, though.”
I don’t tell him the same.
I smile. Barely.
Not that he notices, though. He turns away, yelling into his walkie-talkie before disappearing through a door marked Armory Protection Zone .
Grateful he’s gone, I hand over my visitor’s badge at the desk and sign off on a few forms. I wait for the secretary to hand over the box of Sadie’s files and valuables, but she grabs my wrist.
“Mental insanity doesn’t give someone a license to commit murder.” She tightens her grip. “Don’t you know that?”
“No, this is the first I’m hearing about it…” The cold look in her eyes reflects the warden’s. “So, murder is a crime now? Groundbreaking .”
She rolls her eyes, and I attempt to pull my hand away, but she refuses to let go.
“I want it on the record that I tried to tell you to change your mind about helping her.” She’s glaring at me. “I also want you to admit that you’re only doing it because she’s attractive.”
“I’ve helped tons of other attractive women in my lifetime, Miss—” I strain to read her name tag. “Miss Brenda.”
“You ever been tempted to fuck any of them?”
“No, never.”
“Well, every guard in this prison—male and even some of the females—has talked about fucking her at some point or another.”
“Sounds like something you need to mention to Human Resources.”
“I’m just letting you know that I can see right through you.” She narrows her eyes. “I bet you’ll think about having sex with her at least once when she’s in your cabin, huh?”
It already crossed my mind and we’re not even there yet…
I use my free hand to pull a business card from my pocket, then place it onto her desk.
“I offer private therapy sessions at my institute for people like you,” I say. “You strike me as someone who might be struggling with obsessive-compulsive disorder, so I’ll give you a discount whenever you make an appointment.”
“Fuck you, Dr. Weiss.”
“I would, but you’re not my type.” I smile, and she finally releases my hand. “Can I have Sadie’s files now, please?”
“Fine.” She moves from her chair and unlocks a skinny door. Taking her time and glaring at me like she’s trying to win a stare-off, she pulls out five boxes. Then she slides them toward me.
“Thank you very much, Miss Brenda.” I pick them up and move toward the security exit.
The guards insist I take off my jacket and my shoes, hand over the painting, and then make me carry the boxes down a long line of detectors.
Zing! Zing! Zingggg!
The fifth detector screams.
“Hold up,” a guard says, standing. “Set down the boxes so we can scan those separately.”
I comply, watching as they run the boxes down an airport-style security belt again and again.
After the third time, they rummage through one of the boxes and find the culprit: a slim manila envelope.
When they open it, a necklace slithers out of the flap. Its shiny charm—a silver skull with blood-red gemstone eyes—stares at us, reveling in its sneakiness.
Two guards shudder at the sight of it. Another logs something into his tablet.
“All right, Dr. Weiss,” the supervisor says. “We’ll expect these boxes and everything inside them returned on the date listed.”
“Will do.”
A guard escorts me outside to the parking lot. Thankfully, he doesn’t try to fill the walk with conversation.
The moment he walks away, I slide into the driver’s seat and retrieve the necklace. Up close, the detail on the skull charm is chilling.
This isn’t a cutesy memento or Halloween-inspired jewel. It looks like a real human skull, down to the soft shadowing in its metal marrow.
It also matches Sadie’s painting that the warden hated, and there’s a tiny engraving under the right eye socket:
O.L.I.F.
O.L.I.P.C.
“Hmmm.” I snap a photo and text my institute’s lead researcher.
Look into what this could possibly mean. Re: Sadie Pretty.
Have the answer for me sooner than later.
I crank the engine and pull onto the road, but something foreign is fluttering under my windshield wiper. Stepping out to grab it, I see that it’s a note.
Sadie Pretty deserves to die here.
Go home.
Please don’t save her…