After the Evil – A Jake Roberts Novel (Book 1) Read Online Free Page B

took a moment to think, while he wrote notes
on his legal pad. She appeared to be confused about episodes
between her father, and her ex-husband. The husband was missing,
wasn’t he? Perhaps the trauma of her daughter’s suicide was
affecting her memory. He couldn’t quite put a finger in it.
    “I’m sorry Lori, please continue.”
    Although relieved he had escaped detection, Abrams
knew that he had missed something important. He had to listen
closer, and find the underlying cause of it. As she pulled a tissue
from the box on the table next to her chair, the doctor leaned
forward in his chair. Certain he was listening this time. Lori
continued with the rest of her story.
    “I remember a night. It was raining very hard,
thunder, and lightning. We were parked on a hilltop surrounded by
dense woods. The leaves on the trees partially obscured the moon
and stars. I had an overbearing feeling something evil was present.
Lying back on the upholstery, sweating, frightened, with my legs
spread, he entered me. I wanted to scream, but he wouldn’t let me.
Finally, he finished.”
    She dabbed the tissue in the corner of each eye then
she squeezed the tissue tight in her clenched fist.
    “Then his hand raised, and came down as if it were a
knife.”
    Lori shook. Abrams flinched, and was surprised by
his own reaction.
    “Too young to comprehend the purpose of being
struck, my baby cried as she sucked in her first seconds of life.
She was so beautiful, my Emily. I was just fourteen.”
    Abrams still couldn’t put it all together, and it
bothered him. Before he could ask another question, Lori spoke.
    “I have a recurring dream. I’m alone, no one else is
left in the world, except me.”
    Abrams made the elusive connection between the
father and the missing ex-husband, the daughter’s suicide, the
beatings, and the sexual abuse. He heard similar references from
other clients he had treated over the years. He scribbled on his
notepad and tore off the page then reached forward, holding the
page between the two of them. Lori took it and read what he had
written. It was an address.
    “Unfortunately Lori, our time is up and as you know
I have a few more patients waiting outside. I think we have made
some real progress here today, in fact, so much so I need for you
to continue this session later this evening at my home.”
    He pointed at the page.
    “That’s the address.”
    “I don’t understand, Dr. Abrams.”
    He moved closer to her and exuded compassion.
    “I believe we’ve made a major breakthrough today,
and it is imperative that we discuss this further, before you leave
on another flight.”
    Lori considered the option Abrams presented, but
wasn’t quite sure how that meshed with her revelations. As patients
do, she trusted her medical practitioner. Taking the address he
gave her, she stored it in her purse, and nodded. He desperately
tried to appear reserved and controlled, while she stood and walked
out of the office.
    She was perfect.

2

    After the shooting, and subsequent investigation by
Internal Affairs, I was exhausted. I crashed into one of those
comatose-like sleeps. Since then, I just lay in bed for hours
staring at the ceiling. Abrams said the depression is a normal
reaction to what happened, and it would eventually subside. My
apartment isn’t far from the precinct. The neighborhood is
nondescript, middle-class, what I could afford on my salary. There
aren’t any gated communities here. The nearest one would be lock-up
inside the precinct.
    The place is small, crowded with worn furniture, and
has the comfortable ambiance of a bachelor pad. Being the dedicated
cop that I am, I never used to spend much time here. Now, I hide
inside the cave. On the porch, newspapers are piled up from the
newspaper carrier who could care less. The mailman curses every
time he has to jam more mail into my overflowing mailbox. The
priest from Saint Dominic’s stops by, but I don’t feel holy. Over
the years, I have seen