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“When I showed him the videotape of the sessions with Lee in control, he erupted first into denial, then anger.”
“How does he handle the situation now?”
“He doesn’t. Roy Nye is dead.”
Kay blinked in surprise. “Dead?”
“Yes. He died four years ago. Which brings me to why I’m here, Kay. Mrs. Roy Nye has filed a three-million-dollar wrongful-death lawsuit against me.”
“Your patient was married?”
“No, Lee wasn’t married. Roy was.”
“And Roy’s widow blames you for Roy’s death?”
“Yes.”
“Because of your treatment?”
“Yes.”
“Were formal charges ever brought against you in connection with Roy Nye’s death?”
“No.”
“Did the police ever consider you a suspect?”
“The police were never involved.”
“If Roy died of natural causes or an accidental death, how can his wife—”
“Roy died neither by accident nor by natural causes.”
Kay leaned her forearms on her desk, trying to bore past the solid wall of secrecy in those deep green eyes.
“Okay, I confess I’m confused. How did Roy Nye die?”
His eyes never left hers. His deep voice did not alter a decibel as he delivered the news.
“I killed him.”
Chapter Two
Damian watched his admission rivet Kay’s spine into stiff attention.
He had intentionally shocked her. He wanted to find out who the woman was inside that delicately petite five-foot two-inch frame.
From the moment he’d walked into her office, he’d sensed that Kay Kellogg was nothing like the image she presented.
Not that the image she presented was at all hard to take. Her long, honey-gold hair strained against its imprisonment beneath a silver barrette at the top of her head. Her eyes floated like plump blueberries in her milk-white face. She moved as gracefully as a slim willow, her soft voice sifting through the office like a gentle breeze rustling leaves.
And when she had taken his hand and his body had registered the strong current passing between them, he knew no woman had ever affected him so immediately or so thoroughly.
No doubt about it. Kay Kellogg possessed that kind of natural, land-mine femininity that instantly and spontaneously detonated deep in a man’s body, forcibly reminding him why he was happy to be a man.
She knew it, too, and the knowledge did not make her happy. That was evident by her lack of makeup and jewelry and the formalness and formidability of her dark blue linen suit and the high collar of her light blue cotton blouse.
She wore her clothes like armor. She was making a mistake. All that starched formality only served to accentuate the soft, beckoning woman beneath.
This valiant need she had to try to hide her femininity was far more disturbing and deadly to Damian than even all that land-mine femininity, because it stirred up all his protective instincts.
She didn’t react to his news, except for that initial and instant rigidity of spine. Her eyes remained focused on his, her hands steady, her soft voice absolutely even. She recovered exceptionally fast.
“Are you saying that the police don’t know you committed this murder?”
“I don’t consider I have committed a murder, Kay.”
“You just told me you killed Roy Nye.”
“I did.”
“Then it was an accident?”
“No, I deliberately set out to do it.”
Her eyes still remained glued to his; her composed voice did not falter. He was being deliberately obtuse. Yet she continued to deal with him calmly and coolly. She had an amazingly determined and disciplined mind within that delicate packaging.
“Kay, perhaps the situation will become clearer to you when I say that although Roy Nye is dead, Lee Nye is still very much alive.”
The small frown reappeared between her fawn-colored eyebrows. “How can one identity be dead and not the other?”
“Because I consciously sought to extinguish him. I was successful.”
“Are you saying you ‘killed’ the personality that was Roy?”
“We term it ‘extinguishing’ in psychological parlance. Once Lee Nye realized there was another personality inhabiting his body and taking over during the blackout periods, he was eager to be free of him.”
“And you agreed?”
“After I got to know Roy. He was in a self-destruct mode, inflicting ever-escalating harm. He was not amenable to change. If he had been allowed to continue, he would have taken Lee with him by killing off their shared physical self, as well as their separate personalities.”
“So you’re saying that to save Lee, you killed Roy.”
“Yes.”
“And now Roy’s widow is suing you in a wrongful death suit?”
“Yes.”
She sat back in her chair and pursed her lips in a moment of quiet contemplation. She had inviting lips—naturally pink and soft-looking. Still, they were deliberately unpainted and she definitely wasn’t pursing them in invitation. Good thing, too. Damian resolutely refocused his eyes on her small hands, resting steady and composed on her desk.
“Well, when Adam warned me that your case would be a surprise, he certainly didn’t exaggerate. This one is an original. A suit filed on behalf of a widow of a man who isn’t even really dead.”
“Make no mistake, Kay, Roy is dead. When I was successful in extinguishing him, Lee subsequently divorced Roy’s wife and shed all ties with Roy’s past, including having his name formally changed from LeRoy to Lee. The two individuals shared a body, but never a life. Roy is, as a matter of record, gone.”
“Psychologically speaking, Damian, I bow to your terms. But, legally at least, I think we should begin by attempting to dispute that fact.”
Her eyes were bright with possibilities. She tapped her fingers on the desk to an ever-increasing beat. Damian had the strong impression that they were impatiently trying to keep pace with her racing thoughts.
“I assume Mrs. Roy Nye knows all about your treatment of Lee and your part in extinguishing the Roy personality?”
“Yes. Lee fully explained the circumstances in court when he filed for divorce. Mrs. Nye didn’t contest the divorce. Lee told me later that she even seemed relieved.”
“Then why is she bringing this wrongful-death suit?”
“I don’t know.”
“You said Lee first came to you five and a half years ago?”
“Yes. I saw him for a year and a half before Roy was extinguished. However, Mrs. Nye didn’t file the wrongful-death suit until recently.”
“Any idea why she waited this long?”
“No.”
“Have you ever met her in person or talked to her over the phone?”
“No.”
“Even though you treated her husband?”
“I considered Lee to be my real patient. Her husband, Roy, was a destructive and dysfunctional personality fragment. I feel fortunate that I was successful in extinguishing Roy, thereby freeing Lee to take control of his life.”
Damian watched Kay inhale a deep breath and let it out with a shake of her head.
“Well, it’s certainly a unique cause of action Mrs. Nye will be bringing to court.”
“Will it stand up?”
“Logically, it shouldn’t. But with all the crazy things going on in the legal system these days, it’s hard to second-guess what a judge will let a jury hear. When were you served papers on this suit?”
“Four months ago.”
Her voice rose perceptibly. “Four months ago?”
“The pretrial motions are scheduled for this Friday. The trial is scheduled to begin a week from today.”
She leaned forward. “This Friday? A week from today? Why did you wait so long to seek legal representation?”
“I didn’t. I’ve been relying on the lawyer who represents my malpractice insurance company. After months of answering my frequent questions with vague assurances that he had everything under control, he finally called me into his office last week to tell me he was going for an out-of-court settlement.”
“What reason did he give?”
“He said that the publicity a suit like this could generate would only open a Pandora’s box of new suits against the psychologists that the insurance company represents.”
“Which he naturally wanted to avoid, being their legal representative first and yours second.”
“Yes. He was eager to approach the plaintiff with a settlement offer. In fact, he told me there was no way he would let a case like this get anywhere near the publicity of a trial.”
“Obviously you disagreed.”
“I have no doubt that what I did for Lee Nye was right, Kay. I’m neither apologizing nor paying off.”
“I take it the insurance company is no longer in the financial picture?”
“They’ve told me I’m on my own.”
“Without the insurance company’s resources, you realize this type of litigation could cost you quite a bit of money?”
“Adam discussed that aspect with me thoroughly. I have no intention of backing down.”
He felt her eyes assessing him. No surgeon’s knife could have been more precise in its careful probing. Yes, as he suspected from the first, this woman’s soft appearance and manner were quite misleading.
“I agree,” she said finally. “Backing down only invites others to advance. What we need is a good aggressive line of attack. I already see several possibilities we can pursue.”
Damian rose to his feet. He knew he had to stop this before it went any further. His curiosity and strong reaction to her had already let it go on far longer than prudent.
He extended his hand for a shake and set a small smile on his lips.
“I appreciate your listening to my story, but on reconsideration, I would be more comfortable engaging another attorney to represent me in this matter. Thank you for your time. Please send me your bill.”
She shot to her feet, but not to take his hand. Blue-white heat flashed in her blueberry eyes.
“You’d be more comfortable with another attorney? How can you possibly make such a decision without first hearing my ideas on the case and my strategy for your defense?”
He let his lips spread into his most soothing, reassuring smile, the one he’d been using for years on agitated patients.
“I’m certain your ideas and strategy are fine. My decision has nothing to do with your legal competency.”
She continued to ignore his outstretched hand. She did not return his smile. Her hands balled into fists. She rested her knuckles on the desk and leaned toward him menacingly.
“If you don’t doubt my legal competency, why are you dismissing me?”
He dropped his hand since she obviously wasn’t going to take it. He tried an earnest look and a calming tone, his most successful combination for difficult-patient situations.
“I don’t mean to offend you, Kay. I appreciate your reputation. Please understand that this decision is based purely on a personal idiosyncrasy.”
He followed his words with his most winning smile. Once again, she did not smile back.
