have to schedule a second meeting. I don’t have any more appointments this afternoon but I am supposed to speak at a symposium later today.”
“I don’t think it will take that long,” Jessie said as she warily crossed the threshold into the office. “You mind if we leave the door open? I tend to get claustrophobic.”
“Of course not,” he said, chuckling. “It’s not my area but I could recommend someone if you’d like to talk about that issue.”
The room was warm and welcoming. The walls were a mix of nature scene photos and paintings of seventeenth-century rustic life, including log cabins and women in bonnets milking cows. The furniture, including a desk at the far end of the room, was all dark brown, which contrasted gently with the beige walls. Everything about the office was designed to exude comfort.
He sat down in a high-backed leather chair and motioned for Jessie to take a seat on either the matching one or the adjoining loveseat. She chose the chair, which created more distance between them.
“So,” Fischer said once they’d both settled in. “You mentioned on the phone that this was a pressing matter concerning some of my former patients. I assume it’s related to the recent abductions and murders?”
“What makes you say that?” Jessie asked.
He smiled gently as if to suggest he understood she had to play this game but he would not.
“Several things, Ms. Hunt,” he replied. “First, I’ve never had a criminal profiler call me for any reason before today. Second, I counseled three of the abducted women and one of the ones that were killed.”
“You knew three of them?” Jessie repeated, trying to hide her shock at the fact and his casual revelation of it. “Who?”
“Brenda Ferguson, Morgan Remar, and Jayne Castillo. The only one I didn’t know was the last one taken, Ms. Gidley. Frankly, I’m surprised that you’re surprised. I told all this to the police already.”
“You reported this to the police?” Jessie asked, surprised.
“Yes.”
“When?”
“After Morgan Remar was kidnapped,” he said, looking troubled that she didn’t seem to already know this information. “I heard about Brenda Ferguson, of course. I thought it was terrible and I was so happy when she got away. But it wasn’t until I heard about Morgan that I thought ‘this is truly strange.’ So I called the hotline and told them about the connection.”
“And no one ever got back to you?” Jessie pressed.
“No. It was a recording so I left a message but I never heard back. I tried again after Jayne Castillo was taken because I thought it was simply impossible that this could all be a coincidence—still nothing. I assumed they must have it all in hand or they surely would have gotten back to me. But then, after Morgan died, I tried again. That time, I was vociferous in my message. I assumed that you were here because someone had finally listened to them.”
“No,” Jessie replied. “I never heard about them. You never tried to reach a live person?”
“Of course I did, multiple times. I got stuck in endless phone trees. I even went down to the Mid-Wilshire station—it’s not too far from here—and submitted a statement. I explicitly told the desk clerk about the odd connection and asked to speak to a detective. To be honest, he blew me off, said someone would be in touch. But I could tell he wasn’t impressed. I walked out of there pretty frustrated. Is that standard—to just dismiss leads out of hand?”
“No,” Jessie assured him. “I don’t know what happened there. I’m sure there were hundreds, maybe even thousands of hotline tips. But between that and your station visit, you should have heard back.”
Fischer shook his head in exasperation.
“I even considered calling Brenda or Jayne directly. I thought maybe someone would listen if it came straight from them. But I knew they’d suffered such trauma and I didn’t want to insert myself into their lives, so I held off. I was actually reconsidering that decision today when I got your call.”
Jessie studied the man closely. His entire demeanor conveyed mild-mannered empathy. He wore a rumpled sport jacket over a shirt and vest, along with wrinkled beige Dockers and brown loafers. His voice was soothing but direct and he was diligent about making eye contact. There was no overt deception coming from him, which suggested one of two things. Either he was being honest or he was a master at concealing his deception.
Jessie determined that she wasn’t going to glean anything revelatory