The Babysitter Murders - By Janet Ruth Young Page 0,56

can’t be open about what I have.”

“Why not?”

Dani unfolds her hands and smooths her skirt again. “Because what I have scares people.”

Dr. Mandel leans forward. “There’s no one at all that you can be open with?”

“My mom,” Dani says. “And this guy I’ve been dating.” She thinks for a minute. “And . . . I have a friend. We got on the wrong track. But when I get better I’d like to tell her everything.”

“It sounds like you’re looking forward to getting better. What else do you need to know about this illness?”

“I don’t understand why the thoughts change so much. I begin to expect certain ones, but then new ones pop up in different situations when I totally don’t expect them. I can’t keep up.

It’s driving me crazy.”

Dr. Mandel nods, as if she’s heard this before. “The nature of the thoughts is that they change to suit the thinker and the setting. They always mutate into whatever you would find most repugnant.”

“So the thoughts are happening on their own? I’m not really going to do those things? I’m not really a potential murderer?”

“I don’t know. There are murderers in many populations.

Some of them may have OCD.”

“Please, tell me I’m not going to kill anyone. I won’t even need any more treatment if you tell me that. That will be the end of it.

Just tell me I’m not a murderer and I’ll go away happy.”

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“I can’t, Dani. I’m sorry if it sounds cold, but the way the therapy works is that I can’t reassure you. You have to live with the anxiety that your worst nightmares may come true. That’s the chance you have to take in order to get better.”

Dr. Mandel asks Dani to rank her thoughts from least upsetting to most upsetting.

“That’s easy,” Dani decides after a while. The more damage she could cause, the more distressing the thought is to her. So thoughts about hurting or killing bother her more than thoughts of shocking people or yelling insults, even though those actions could have lasting effects, like getting suspended or losing someone’s friendship.

“You look sad again,” Dr. Mandel says.

Dani squeezes her hands together. “A lot of damage has already been done. Even though I haven’t killed or insulted anyone. When I go back, my life won’t be the same.”

“Can you undo any of the damage?”

“If people let me I can.”

“What is that you’re doing with your hands?” Dr. Mandel asks.

“When I think about hurting someone I do this to make sure I’m not really touching them.”

“Does it help?”

“Only for a minute.”

“Then maybe it’s time to try something that works better.”

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Dani’s mother waits in a rented car outside Dr. Mandel’s,

dressed in business clothes. Dani hasn’t seen her since the morning.

“We’re back to looking alike!” Beth says.

“Not bad,” Dani replies. Her mother has dyed her hair black.

Both of them wear sunglasses. Beth takes her to the Thai restaurant on the first floor of their hotel and requests a corner table close to the door.

“So how was your first day?” Beth asks.

“Sort of surprising. Dr. Mandel seems very familiar with what I have.”

“That’s a relief.”

“I know. That part made me feel better. But when I asked her if she thought I would actually kill someone, she said that was a possibility.”

Beth gets that airgun look again. “Well . . . ,” she begins.

“To be honest, I thought about taking you to a facility that was more . . .”

“More what?”

“More of an inpatient facility. Someplace secure.” Dani rubs her hands. Her mother means a place where she would be locked up. That sounds appealing, actually, like the woods. A JANET RUTH YOUNG

place where she couldn’t hurt anyone. “But Dr. Mandel said she didn’t think it was necessary,” Beth finishes.

“I guess she must know,” Dani says uncertainly.

“Anyway, here’s to your recovery,” Beth toasts Dani with a Diet Coke. They eat quickly and return to their suite. It has two bedrooms and a sitting room. Beth locks the door to her bedroom.

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The Dogg House

Sniffing Out That Babysitter

Your blog host: Sheepdogg

Where There’s Death, There’s Beth?

Beth Solomon’s car has been parked in the driveway 24/7 (not her style at all—hmmm), but from the looks of it BetSo has not been sleeping at home.

Most likely the Predator’s Parent is doing the mother-hen thing at whatever institution Deadly Daughter is checking out, and we’re not talking about college visits here. Boston? Belmont? New-ton? Dogg suspects they’ve hightailed it to Aspen, Colorado, where the right money can hush up a private nuthouse.

In the meantime, the

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