Pam (18 page)

In the time I had seen her at the institute and post release, Pam had shown no true enthusiasm. She lacked
the
energy to produce excitement. But when she came to my office
that day
, if I hadn’t known better I would have sworn she was on some sort of drug.

Exuberant and bouncing, she could hardly contain her glee.

M
y
day, however, before she
walked
in, was quite interesting. My thoughts were consumed with the events of the previous nights with Sharon. So much so
that
I had my receptionist clear most of my schedule. I felt it unfair to be in the wrong frame of mind.

I made at stop at the hospital to check on Miss
Possession
.
Incidentally
,
there wasn’t a brain tumor
,
and she still continued to thrash about, spewing obscenities, but despite the fact that she was
helpless
, bound
,
and
most
of the time exposed, not a single arousal
or
fantasy hit me about her.

I was stuck on Sharon.

It was good and bad for me.

I went through several phases, guilt, sadness, remorse, but anytime the night popped into my mind, the guilt went out the window. Several times I started to call James, but I stopped.

Pam would be the test.

I was sitting in deep thought, looking at my desk where the polish had been slightly removed in the shape of an ass.
I r
eview
ed
the night in my
mind
and wonder
ed
if anyone would notice
there
was an butt mark there. Two perfect cheeks.

My fingers
glazed
across the blemish
,
and just as I started to grow aroused, Pam knocked on the door and entered.

Suffice to say, I remained seated.

I was worried that I couldn’t clear my min
d,
t
hen she started to gush. Her words were like an instant high dose of saltpeter.

“You’re not going to believe this. I found him. I found him. I found him.”

“Slow down
,
” I beckoned her. “You are obviously very excited. What’s going
on?
”

“I can barely catch my breath. I already told Stacy and Justin. Everyone is thrilled.”

“About what?”

“I found a witness. A witness that can end this all.”

I leaned back in my chair. “A witness to what?”

She snickered. “Murder.
Marion Blake’s murder.”

“I’m sorry, forgive me. Who is Marion
Blake?
”

The smile left her face for a moment, then returned. “Unsolved
m
urder
number
three. I was
a
suspect in the murder
,
but they could
n’t
make it stick. I happened
to be
in Hartford at the time
,
and I thought that was the only reason. But here, there was a witness. He heard them arguing the night of the murder. He saw the woman go into the apartment. Of course, they didn’t believe him because he was drunk and no day could be pinpointed as the day of the murder.”

“Pam, just because you happened to be in the same city as a murder is no re
ason to be suspect.
There would have to be some sort of motive.”

“There was,” she said. “She was having an affair with Richie.”

“You knew this?”

She nodded. “But Sharon did
, t
oo. I found him today. I found the witness. I talked to him.”

“Pam, listen, this may not pan out the way …”

“He described her,” Pam interrupted me. “
He
described Sharon to a tee. Said he’d know her a mile away.
”

“Really.” Suddenly, my attention was
caught
. A man witness to an old murder can remember the face of the supposed murderer?
Authorities
dismissed it because he was a
drunk
, according to Pam.

“If we can get him to identify
Sharon
with my testimony of that night, it can put her away.”

“What is your testimony, Pam? What do you know about the murder?”

“Nothing. But I know Sharon’s state of mind. She was upset about Marion. Wanted to find her, seek her
out,
and confront
her. I thought she was protecting me. Had I known she was also having an affair with Richie, it would have made sense.”

“How do you get this man with the alleged
p
hotographic
mind to
identify
her?
”

“I’ve been thinking about that.
Without
putting him in danger, maybe call
Sharon
out. Find her. Get her to go there? Damn it. If I only had a picture. Maybe I’ll find one. I’ll get a hold of my high school year book. Wonder if that would help.”

I muttered that it could
,
and she spewed forth
about
this witness, where he worked and his
name
. She talked about the case for most of our session.

I listened. I really did
,
and then
after
she left, my mind went to her quest for a picture.

It flashed back to the night before …

“
Give
me that.” I reached out for
Sharon
. I was tipsy at that moment
;
we drank a lot.
I was dressed, putting my things in my briefcase. She of
course
dallied. Not even getting dressed.

She laughed, tossing back her head and pulling my phone from my reach. “This is a fancy phone.”

“It’s an expensive fancy phone.
”

“I’m not looking through it, I’m …” She was sitting on my desk, bare bottomed
.  She
rolled
away
from me, spread her legs
,
and aimed the phone between the
m. “Giving you a visual for lat
er.”

“I can’t have that on my phone.” I stumbled
to
a sloppy stand.

She went camera crazy, snapping pictures of her breasts. Playfully
teasing
me and sitting in the
chair
. “How about
t
his memory?” Again, legs spread wide, she took another picture. I think I heard it click three times. “How about a full frontal
nudity
shot?”

I walked to her, held out my hand.

She stood from the chair and hurried to my desk.

“Sharon, stop.”

I caught her and grabbed for the phone. As I pulled she followed in a seductive manner. Struggling in fun. As I gained control of my camera, I heard it snap another picture. I didn’t think anything of
it;
I just tossed it in my briefcase and told her
she needed
to get dressed.

The
pictures
.

I had every intention of deleting them and oddly didn’t even think about them. They had to be blurry. Pulling out my phone, I opened the
picture
folder.

She had taken a lot.

My phone
photo
collection consisted of
scenery
, food, but there was a string of pho
to
s
of Sharon
.

Some of them … quite close and nice. But the one I was looking for was there. The last picture taken.

It was a clear shot of Sharon’s face. It wasn’t blurry or dark
;
it was
perfect
. Her hair was kind of tossed, lipstick faded, makeup in need of a touch up
,
and she held this pouty, seductive look. As much as I hated the thoug
ht of anyone seeing the picture
because it
clearly
screamed, ‘I just fucked this woman’, it had to be seen. At least once.
By
one person.

Leon was the only name I had to go by and the name of the auto body shop. Granted, Leon wasn’t a common name
,
and I guessed there wasn’t more than one working there.

The shop was getting ready to close when I arrived just after six. In fact, the man was locking the doo
r
w
hen I pulled up.

He looked over his shoulder with
a
‘blocking out the sun’ smile and finished locking the door.

“We’re closed. If you need something you can have it towed here,” he said.

“Thank you, I will
.
I just need to know when Leon is available. Heard he’s the best.”

“I am.” He
smiled.
“I’m Leon.”

“I’m Dr. Andrews. Desmond Andrews.” I handed him my card. “
Hold
on to that.”

“Okay.” He read the card. “You’re a
shrink
. What’s up?” Then he groaned. “I get it.”

“What?”

“Bill. He’s going through that custody battle. I won’t speak against him.
He isn’t crazy. He isn’t a sex
addict
. He had that affair because his wife is a bitch.
”

I laughed. “No. Trust me, sex addiction is a common excuse when me
n
get busted
cheating
. It’s more complicated than that.”

“You would know.”

I wanted to say,
‘
More than you realize’, but I didn’t. “Actually
,
” I pulled out my phone
,
“I need you to look at a picture.”

“Of damage? I can see better if you bring it here.”

“No, a patient of mine thinks his wife is … cheating. Maybe meeting him in this area. Can you take a look and see
i
f you have seen her around
?
” I fumbled
through
the pictures. “Hold on, he sent it to me. Let me pull it up.” I
found
it and handed him the phone.

My phone, my expensive phone nearly dropped from his hand. “Are you serious?”
H
is eyes widened.

“Yeah, what’s wrong?”

“Oh my God. Do you know her?”

“Sort of,” I said.

“What’s her
name?
I need to know her name.”

“Sharon Wilson.”

He
handed
back the phone. “I said it today and I meant it
that
I’d remember that face
,
and I do. I just needed a name. I was thrown
for
a
loop
today when she came up. And you better tell your friend
that
his wife is no stranger around here. Has a history.
Down the street I saw her walk into the apartment of a girl who was found dead.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m
positive
. Doctor, I hate to do this. But I was labeled a drunk and a liar years ago. I’m making this right.”

“You do what you need to do,” I said. “I’ll look
into
it on this end. But I’d appreciate, because I’m a doctor and I have an oath, that they contact me directly. If you’re positive.”

“I am.”

“Thank you.” I had a heavy feeling come over me. Pam was right. The man did see Sharon.
Perhaps the way I went about it was sneaky and unethical, but I was
,
in
fact, helping
my
patient
.

I got back in my car, opened my briefcase
,
and made a notation
in
the ‘
Pam
’ folder. It was as I was closing my briefcase that my phone range.

Restricted.

I could only guess who it was.

“Hello,” I
answered
, tossing my briefcase in the back of the car.