She saw his shadow through the frosted portion of her upper door, and he appeared to deliberate knocking, but in the end, turned and walked away. Liza’s shoulders relaxed as she sat down at her desk and opened her computer to look at the day’s schedule. Three appointments that morning, and two after lunch, followed by a group session. A full day.
Perfect. It was exactly what she needed.
In preparation, Liza pulled the files of the patients she’d be seeing, glancing through them quickly to make sure she was up to date, and that nothing had changed in the few days she’d been out of the office.
As Liza sipped her coffee, she went through the emails she’d missed, mostly concerning non-pressing administrative topics, answering the few that did need to be immediately addressed. When she was done with that, she began to put her computer to sleep, when she moved the cursor away from that command, opening up the web browser, and going to the front page of a local news station.
The lead story was about the man the media was now dubbing The Hollow-Eyed Killer. Liza felt her face do a strange sort of eye-rolling grimace. She wondered what Reed thought of that. She wasn’t an expert on serial killers, preferring to work with the traumatized over the psychopathic, but she did know psychopaths would lap up that sort of attention. Even worse, it might inspire other psychopaths looking for similar attention. Notoriety.
Certainly the media knew that too. Apparently, they didn’t care. Ratings always trumped integrity.
Liza scrolled down past the article, stopping at a photograph of the chief of police giving a news conference. Her gaze immediately went to the man in the suit to his right, standing with his hands linked in front of him, his expression grave. Reed. Her heart picked up its pace. Unconsciously she reached out, her fingers dropping before they touched the screen. She sighed. Why are you doing this to yourself, Liza? Still, she gave herself another moment to admire the handsome detective with the intelligent gaze. One of the good guys.
She needed to call Reed about her brother. She owed him—and the Cincinnati Police Department that had come to her aid when she’d called—an update on the break-in.
She clicked off the website and put her computer to sleep. Picking up her phone, she prepared to call Reed, almost hoping she’d receive his voicemail, but she startled as the sound of an alarm clanged in the hall outside her door. She stood quickly, flinging her office door open and looking out into the hallway where two security guards rushed past, followed by a couple of staff members who looked stricken.
What the heck?
Emergencies at the hospital weren’t unheard of, but rarely did alarm bells sound on the administrative floors. This was something more serious than a patient who’d sharpened a straw and was threatening to stab a fellow patient. Liza followed, catching up to a female nurse. “Do you know what’s going on?”
The woman gave Liza a quick glance. “A patient managed to grab one of the security officer’s guns in one of the common areas. He’s holding it to his head near the infirmary.”
Oh God.
“Any idea who it is?”
“I think it’s one of your patients, Dr. Nolan.”
“Mine? Do you . . .?”
Her question was answered when they rounded the corner and saw Simon Mullner sitting at the end of the hallway next to the door that led to the infirmary, a gun held to his head, tears streaking down his face.
Dr. Headley was standing a few feet in front of him, his hands held out as he apparently tried to talk to the crying man.
Liza’s heart lurched, her feet moving toward Chad before she’d really made the determination to do so. “Dr. Nolan,” the security guard standing against the wall hissed under his breath. “Not a good idea.”
Liza hesitated, but kept moving forward anyway. Chad must have heard the soft click of her heels on the floor because he glanced back, and when he saw her, his eyes opened wide, and he made a quick movement with his head indicating she should move back.
Liza gave Chad a small shake of her head. She felt his fingertips graze her arm as she moved around him, but she pulled away, moving toward Simon.
“Liza,” Chad said behind her, through what she could hear were clenched teeth. “Stay back. Liza.” He raised his voice slightly as he said her name again, his demand clear.
“Simon,” she said softly.
The man