Bless The Beauty - By Stacey Kennedy Page 0,42

like him to understand why he does the things he does. In his world, he is a prophet from God sent to save angels that have been taken over by the Devil.”

“He truthfully believes that?” Chase asked.

“Very much so,” Bob replied. “From what I got through our discussions, he saved his mother from her wicked ways and returned her to her maker for forgiveness. He buried her in a grave, but supplied her with an air tank. He said that he put her back to God and kept her there for seven days to let her free herself from her sins. Then, after those days, he returned to dig her up. He said that he made his mother pretty, made up her face so that when she was remembered by all, she’d be beautiful.”

“Fuck,” Chase exhaled.

“Yeah, exactly.” I could hardly believe my ears. This guy was a goddamn lunatic.

“Bless the Beauty,” Kellen cut in, his voice soft.

His terminology was dead on. It was an act to purify the victims, keep them perfect forever. It all made sense now and came together in a neat little package. He created a vision of them in his mind and when they disappointed him— sinned—he killed them to save them. At least that’s how he saw it.

“Guess that sums up his reasoning behind it all.”

I looked away from Kellen and back to Bob. “What do you suggest for questioning him?”

“It won’t be an easy task,” Bob replied in earnest. “It took me ten years to break through the depths of his mind.”

“Well, we don’t have ten years,” I retorted. “He has taken another woman, buried her somewhere, hopefully still alive. We need to get him to talk.”

Bob pursed his lips a moment then said, “The only way to relate to him is through the Lord.

Connect with him. The problem will be in understanding his thoughts. His mind is confused. Remember that.”

A little nudge that had been stirring within me this entire conversation couldn’t be held back any longer. With all the knowledge we needed out of the way, my frustration level hit the roof. “So Bob, tell me, how did he get released from here?”

Bob’s lips tightened into a fine line. Obviously, he knew exactly where I was going with this and didn’t appreciate it one bit. Well, too bad for him, I didn’t give a shit. Bob cleared his throat before he spoke. “We medicated him. He was doing quite well on Risperidone.”

That wasn’t the answer I was looking for. If anything, his remark only sparked the fire of irritation in my body to burn. Someone needed to take ownership here, and I was going to be sure to point that fact out. “You expected him to continue taking his medication unsupervised?”

“We had transferred him to home care,” Bob deplored. “He was living on his own for the last four years and was doing well.”

“Well that plan obviously flopped.”

Bob glared at me. A vein in the center of his head was beginning to bulge. “It’s our job to assess our patients, treat them and when they are well enough, we are expected to assist them back into the community. Our funds are low. We do what we can.” The vein looked about ready to burst as he continued. “Chad had been living independently for four years. He was no threat or danger to anyone.”

I struck a nerve with the doctor, but this nerve was hitting me just as strong. Lives were lost and this all could have been prevented. I jumped to my feet and glared down at him. “Why don’t you call the victim’s families and tell them that whole spiel you just shit out.”

Bob shot up from his chair, fists tight at his side. “It’s our job within the community to see them well. Chad had made leaps and bounds with his care. He was open and willing through our sessions. He understood between right and wrong and under medication, he appeared to be thriving. There was no reason to keep him here further. He proved himself to be a productive part of the community.”

My brows furrowed as my eyes narrowed. I leaned in, placed my hands on his desk and came close to his face. “If you kept him here, these women wouldn’t be dead and that rests on your shoulders, Doc.”

Okay, so lashing out at him was wrong. He was only doing what he knew to be right.

This, though, was the one part of the mortal world I couldn’t