In the Heart of the Wind Book 1 in the WindTorn Trilogy (24 page)

Kristen stared at the man. “An eight-year-old boy?”

Lassiter leaned forward over his desk. “You have to understand something about personality disorders. With your husband, he has repressed what undoubtedly happened to him in his later childhood. Perhaps up until the age of eight, the severe problems he was having with his father had not yet reached the stage where James couldn’t endure them.

“When a child is in the developmental stages of his personality, he gathers certain signals from his parents. His mother is usually the central point of control and denial in a child’s life. She’s responsible for his safety—for his very survival—by feeding and clothing him. In some instances, when the mother is the weaker of the two parental influences, it’s the father to whom the child looks for that physical and emotional nurturing. If the father is not a person who readily exhibits such feelings, even knowingly withholds them, the child begins to feel a sense of abandonment; he fears he’ll actually cease to exist.

“The instinct for survival at any cost, is very strong in every living thing. It’s a primitive need, an inborn craving for self-preservation. How a child reacts to the withholding of love and protection by his parent depends on certain capacities that child develops as he grows.”

“Such as rebelling against authority,” Kristen said.

“Exactly. Certain criteria begin to manifest themselves at an early age. Such things as how well a child handles emotional pain, physical pain, stress, fear, the feeling of being ignored will shape how he’ll react to others as he grows older.

“What kind of parents he has is also one of the primary shapers of a child’s personality. If the sterner of the two parents seeks to exhibit his or her own will on the child and does this with excessive punishment or emotional abuse, certain children begin to seek ways of fighting back, asserting themselves, establishing their own persona separate from and independent of the parent he perceives as his enemy. He strikes back at his parent with the only weapons at his disposal—anger and rebellion.”

“From what I know of Jamie’s childhood, Dr. Lassiter, Liam Tremayne abused him both physically and emotionally.”

“That would be my assessment. Such physical and emotional abuse would’ve caused your husband to rebel even more. He’d have become progressively more angry and aggressive. By doing so, he’d have received even further rejection by his father. Even as he continued to be severely unhappy about his situation, he would’ve been unable to break the chain of exhibiting his anger and thus being punished for doing so.”

“He couldn’t win his father’s love, so he won the man’s attention any way he could,” Kristen said quietly.

“That’s what happened. The severity of the problem between the father and son must have begun somewhere around James’ ninth birthday. That must’ve been when the child finally decided there was no way to ever gain his father’s love, so he settled for simply gaining his notice.” Lassiter fixed Kristen with a steady look. “Up until that time, he must’ve still been striving to do what he later discovered was impossible. The young James would have tried to be polite, to be a good child and one his father would be proud of, but the more he tried, the more rejection he received.”

“So the James my husband is revealing now is the child he thought his father wanted.”

“Correct. He believes if he’s cooperative, malleable, as good a boy as he can be, no one will hurt him, no one will ignore him, and no one will mistreat him.”

“And the other personality?”

Bruce Lassiter sat back in his chair. “Tell me, Mrs. Tremayne, what are your feelings toward your husband?”

Kristen’s eyebrows lifted. “I don’t see what that has to do with—”

“It might well have quite an impact on my talk with you, Mrs. Tremayne.”

Something about the man’s tone of voice captured Kristen’s immediate attention. She shrugged. “I can’t say I have any feelings of love for him at the present time. I was in love with him when we were together. After all, he is the father of my child.”

“But how do you feel about him now? Today? At this very moment?” Lassiter pressed.

“I have feelings for him, Dr. Lassiter. I care about what happens to him. I certainly don’t want to see him hurt.” She watched the man’s eyes very carefully and when he looked away, his face reddening, she thought she understood the man and his motives. “What’s been going on here, Dr. Lassiter?”

“Are you aware your sister-in-law is actually James’ physician of record?”

Kristen was taken aback. “You mean she is directing his treatment?”

Lassiter nodded. He searched the eyes of the woman seated across from him as if trying to gauge her reactions and feelings.

“When you and Dr. Tremayne were here last time when the bandages came off, were you aware we had some rather severe problems with your husband?”

“Paddy told me Jamie reacted rather violently to his new face.” Her eyes narrowed. “You understand how it is between Jamie and Liam, Dr. Lassiter. Were you surprised with his reaction?”

“To some extent I was, yes.” He smiled, but the smile seemed forced. “Do you smoke, Mrs. Tremayne?”

At her shake of the head, he asked if he could. At her nod of agreement, Lassiter reached into an ornately carved rosewood box and extracted a Cuban cigar. Lighting the fat cigar, he drew on it until the tip flared a bright red, then blew out a long stream of thick, brown smoke. He seemed to be gathering his thoughts.

“In what way were you surprised?”

Lassiter sighed. “It was far more violent than I’d anticipated.” He watched her carefully through the haze of smoke. “Of course, I had to report that reaction to Mr. Tremayne.”

“Of course.”

The doctor squinted as if feeling the woman’s dislike of her father-in-law. “I wish I hadn’t.”

Kristen’s eyes, which had been on the Ormolu clock on the mantel, shifted back to the doctor. “Why not?”

“Mrs. Tremayne, when a patient exhibits such a violent and on-going reaction to certain conditions or stimuli, it is sometimes advisable to, shall we say, ‘shock’ them out of that aberrant behavior. We give them a rather substantial amount of sedative and apply shock therapy.”

“And you did that to Jamie?”

“At his father’s orders, yes, we did.”

Kristen sat forward in her chair, her eyes fused with the doctor’s. “And?”

“And, again at his father’s orders, we did not inject a sedative. Your husband was quite aware of what was happening to him.”

Kristen’s mouth dropped open. She stared at the man, hating him, mistrusting him, wishing she could rake her nails down his bearded face. “That’s nothing less than torture!”

The doctor blushed furiously. “That was my feeling, exactly, Mrs. Tremayne. I did not wish to use that treatment in the first place, and using it in the way we did, it was most offensive to me both as a professional caregiver and a human being.”

“Does Patrick know about this?” Even as she asked, she knew the answer.

“Mr. Tremayne gave me the impression he didn’t want anyone other than his daughter to know. Mrs. Tremayne, you have to understand. I don’t want to do that to James again, but if things go as I suspect they will, what I had promised him would be a one-time procedure could become a way of life.”

The color drained from Kristen’s angry face. “What do you mean?”

“One of the tools of our trade to treat multiple personalities is shock therapy. Today, insulin shock is more readily used than electroshock therapy, but there are those who insist only an electric shock sent through the brain will snap the patient back from that dream world he has created. Since James has developed two distinct, totally opposite personalities, I’m afraid Dr. Casey will insist we use electric shock to force the second persona out of James.”

Kristen winced.

Lassiter stood and walked to his window. He stared out across the elaborately landscaped lawns to the Spanish moss-draped oaks beyond the wrought iron gates.

“The second persona did not manifest itself until recently. Up until a week ago, James was in control.”

“Is this second personality Gabe James?”

“Not exactly,” Lassiter replied. He looked over his shoulder at Kristen. “I’d imagine this personality isn’t anything like the Gabe James the people in Iowa know.”

Kristen didn’t like the sound of that. “In what way is he different?”

Lassiter let out a long breath. “Well, for one, I seriously doubt the man in Iowa was violent. He might’ve exhibited anger or aggressiveness, but not to the extinct this personality has.” He faced her. “This man was so violent we had to put him in a straight jacket and lock him in a padded cell to keep him from hurting himself or someone else. Then as quickly as he came, he left. You can’t imagine the harm waking up in that straight jacket caused James.”

Kristen looked away. “Is Jamie aware there’s another personality?”

“He’s aware of Gabe, but he’s afraid of him.”

“Why?”

“He perceives Gabe as a threat. James knows, if he behaves, there won’t be any repercussions. There won’t be any need for restraints or more potent tranquilizers to control him. All he need do is be the good, little boy his father wants him to be and everything will be fine.”

“And Gabe, like the older James, causes trouble.”

“Yes.” Lassiter stubbed out his cigar and laid it on the lip of his marble ashtray. “And it’s trouble James doesn’t want Gabe to cause because James will be the one to suffer for it, not Gabe.”

“Obviously you think this is the wrong way to go. Have you explained that to Liam?”

“Your father-in-law doesn’t want to hear such things, Mrs. Tremayne. He has his mind set on the way he wants it. All he wants to hear is that we’re completely controlling his son’s behavior.”

“And he doesn’t care how you go about it,” Kristen mumbled. She stared at the doctor. “Even if it means destroying what’s left of Jamie.”

Lassiter looked away. “I believe that’s a fair estimate of the situation.”

“What about Gabe? Why can’t you just leave that personality alone?”

“He hates James. Gabe perceives James as the enemy. James is everything Gabe doesn’t want to be: controllable, institutionalized, unworthy of anyone’s affection, abandoned. James is weak, ineffectual, allows things to happen to him. Gabe has mentioned several times that, when he gets the chance, he’s going to kill James.” The doctor drew in a breath and exhaled slowly. “The possibility of Gabe doing just that in an effort to rid himself of James is very real. We have had to be very careful whenever Gabe appears.”

“If there’s one thing Liam doesn’t want, it’s Jamie escaping, either alive or dead.”

The intercom on Lassiter’s desk buzzed and the doctor flicked on the switch. “I asked not to be disturbed.”

“Dr. Casey asked me to call you, Dr. Lassiter. She says you’d better come down to one-fifty-eight immediately.”

Lassiter glanced across the desk to Kristen. “That’s your husband’s room.” He turned back to the intercom. “Has something happened?”

There was a short, concerned pause. The nurse’s voice sounded worried. “He’s developed another personality, Dr. Lassiter.”

Bridget glared at
her brother. Her nails were digging into her palms in an effort to keep from slapping the smile from his face. She had already slapped him once. The palm print was fiery red on Gabe’s face, but the face that looked back at her now was eerie; the eyes deadly.

“Gabe and James don’t like you,” he whispered to her. His eyes turned cold as ice. “And I don’t like you, either.”

Despite the heavy canvas straps confining his wrists to the bed frame, Bridget had a sinking feeling in the pit of her belly that the man watching her from the bed could snap the restraints in half. She turned anxious eyes to Beecher. “Have another set of restraints brought in. I want him absolutely incapable of movement.”

“Are you afraid of me, Bridie?” the man on the bed said with a laugh. The smile slipped from his lips. “You should be, if you aren’t.”

Dr. Lassiter shoved past Beecher as the orderly left the room. He hurried to the bed and saw gleaming black orbs that promised lethal intent. Lassiter felt a distinct chill in the air. He looked at Bridget Casey.

“What happened?”

Bridget tore her eyes from her brother and stared at Lassiter. “I was talking to that Gabe personality when this one showed up.” She turned back to her brother. “He hasn’t told me who he is yet.”

The man on the bed smiled the most evil smile either doctor had ever seen, then his eyes shifted to the woman who had accompanied Lassiter into the room. His lips twitched.

“Hello, Krissy,” he said. “Came to see Jamie being put in his place, did you?”

“Who are you?” Lassiter asked. He felt those eyes leap to his almost as though it had been a physical blow.

“The name’s not important,” the patient said. “Call me whatever you want—Jim, Jimmy, whatever.”

“Jimmy,” Kristen whispered and stepped back as those deadly eyes encountered hers again.

“As good a name as any,” he snorted.

“Why are you here?” Lassiter had the feeling the patient was laughing at him, but the eyes were cold and the sensual mouth still.