Page 15 of Dead Man's Wish
“You’re staring, Mrs. Wells.” His deep voice filled the empty space of my office, and I fought the urge to physically react.
“I apologize, Mr. Wells. How can I help you today?” I asked in my sugary-sweet, professional voice. Naturally, my voice was a bit lower, but I learned that putting on a customer-service show got me further when it came to skirting some rules.
“Are you busy?” he asked, producing the agenda as he stepped inside.
“Not currently. I just wrapped up that web meeting with the new patient. I think regular cognitive behavioral therapy appointments will get them on the right track. I pulled up the starting forms for my casefile on Hale.” Saying only his last name put the needed space between me and events of the past.
“I’m tracking,” he said as he scribbled a note in the margins. “Do you need me to start the transcriptions for your new patient?”
“Oh, yes!” I clapped my hands together and shuffled the papers on my desk into the correct order. I dropped them in an envelope and stood, handing them to him over my desk. He took the package but caught my hand before I could pull it back. His thumb traced circles over my fingers as he kissed the back of my hand.
“I’ll get started on these when I get back. Are you doing okay—with the journals?” He towered over my desk whether I sat or stood. His immense six-foot-six stature would dwarf anything in any room he graced.
“I am, thank you.” I let that touch of vulnerability show for him before I stepped back into my role for today. He knew that Business Bex was superficially cold and distant. It was survival, not personal.
“I’m here to ask about your immediate availability,” he said, folding the notebook and envelope into his lap as he sat on the corner of my desk.
“Immediate availability?” I repeated, turning the phrase over in my mind. I sat back in my chair; the confusion was written all over my face. “For whom?” I asked cautiously. A raised eyebrow told him the only people I cared to be available for with no notice didn’t need to be penciled in for appointments. His smile widened, giving me a little glimpse of that piercing. I bit my tongue before it could dart out and sweep over my lip.
“Crestwood PD called,” he prompted.
“Crestwood? Is that south of Old Oaks?”
“Yes, Crestwood is south and still in Monarch County.” He opened the agenda and read over his notes. “He was really flustered and kind of rushed with this request. Detective Martin asked about your availability because his department hasn’t been very receptive regarding pleas for a forensic psychologist to come in. His shock is well earned because what followed was an insane time frame.”
“Oh, a time frame? We have a real deadline with this one?” I smirked at the challenge, and Jaiden knew that was the first hook to catch me.
“We love a challenge, but this one is odd. Detective Martin is hell-bent on this one suspect being his perpetrator. He asks that you only prove he’s prone to or can be pushed to violence.” Jaiden studied my reaction, but learning to read people meant closing the book on my own emotions. He showed promise and even took up classes for this niche part of psychology.
“What’s my deadline?”
“Monday.”
“Monday?” I exclaimed, but I wasn’t upset. I was astounded. “That’s the tightest deadline we’ve ever had. It’s Thursday,” I stated, looking at my watch. “Afternoon, no less. Where am I going for the interview?”
“Claremont Prison, a few hours south from here. However, Martin said he’s already arranged it and cleared the visitation for Friday. So, it’s your only shot if you want to tackle it.”
I sat back in my chair and thought over the details. Jaiden fished his vape pen from his pocket and inhaled. There was a slight crackle from the coil. He pushed the cloud out and inhaled through his nose. Inhaling again, he did a few more tricks before his eye caught me watching him.
“What?” he asked as I grinned. The vapor drifted and I shook my head.
“The way you quell your boredom is cute.”
“Some people quell boredom with serial murder, so blowing Os seems pretty tame.” I laughed off his simple fact and rolled my eyes.
“Let’s go to Claremont,” I said, turning my palms out.
Six
July 25, 2025:
Jaiden Wells
Friday came bright and early.I pulled into the prison parking lot for the scheduled visitation with a hopefulness. I assumed Bexley would want a distraction, and the game of pushing a criminal in such a tight time frame seemed like the answer to getting her back in the groove of things.
The parking lot was gravel, and as the dust stirred around the car, I killed the engine and studied Bex. I wasn’t an expert, but knowing her inside and out gave me a leg up on reading her. Bex’s shoulders were tense, and the furrow in her brow hadn’t relaxed once on the drive down here.
“Do you think you’d find your job more difficult if Brent hadn’t died but was tried and put in prison?” The question came out of nowhere. It even surprisedmea bit. She took a minute to think, but she didn’t let me see if it rattled her.
