The Kindness of Strangers (Skip Langdon Mystery #6) (The Skip Langdon Series) Read Online Free

something.”
    “Good.” Boo was a little taken aback. She’d planned to lead her client gradually back up the path to consciousness, ever so nurturing and gentle, but Skip had taken matters into her own hands.
    “It’s not what I expected. It’s the last thing I expected.” She was shaking her head. “It was Errol Jacomine.”
    “The mayoral candidate?”
    Skip nodded, licking her lips, excited. “This worked, you know that? There really is something I care about— I just forgot about it, that’s all. I mean I didn’t think I could do anything, but I have all this free time.”
    “Tell me about it.”
    “What do you know about Jacomine?”
    “Just that he’s the minister of a multicultural church. He seems to have done a lot for drug addicts and people down on their luck—I mean, really a lot. My impression is, he’s a real grassroots, serious kind of guy who puts his money where his mouth is.”
    “My God.” Skip was shaking her head, a hand over her mouth in horror. “I think that’s what most people think.”
    “And what do you think?”
    “He’s a psychopath. He’s dangerous as hell.”
    She was so adamant Boo started to wonder if this was a projection. Was there more to Skip Langdon’s emotional state than she’d thought?
    “I met him last year on a case. He was sitting down with eight or ten members of his flock. When he stood, they stood, and I’ve never been so sure in my life that something was badly wrong. I mean badly .”
    “I’m not sure I understand.”
    “They were obviously under orders to watch his every little move and carry out some prearranged scenario.”
    “Every organization has rituals. Especially churches.”
    “Maybe you had to be there—trust me, this thing was sinister as hell. And sure enough, I found a disgruntled member who left because he abused her. She spilled something, and he made her wear burlap underwear or some damn thing—which he called sackcloth. And there were sexual things.”
    “Rape?”
    “More like droit du seigneur. The church ladies were just sort of on call.”
    Boo raised an eyebrow.
    “So I told the department’s intelligence guy—you know, the one who’s supposed to know about cults? And he said Errol Jacomine’s a good guy, and I should leave him alone.”
    “Jacomine’s got a following,” Boo said, trying to keep it neutral. In fact as far as she could tell, he was beloved by those who knew him.
    Skip was looking more lively than she had at any time during the session.
    Boo asked, “How does all this affect your life?”
    “Well, I think it’s preying on me—it’s contributing to my general black, dark mood. And I realize the thing I want most in the world right now is for him not to get elected. I could work on Perretti’s campaign, or Jackson’s …” She stopped. “Uh-oh. No, I can’t. I’m still a police officer. I can’t work on a campaign.” She looked utterly dejected. “For a minute there, I thought I could actually do something useful for once.”
    “I’m sure you’ve done many useful things in your life.”
    Skip gave her another cut-the-shrink-talk look. They were all like this at first, till they got used to the vocabulary.
    And the nurturing.
    Boo felt strongly that there wasn’t enough nurturing in the culture, and that most people had a hard time accepting it—but then, perhaps those were just the ones who ended up in therapy.
    Still, there was her husband …
    Stop that , she thought. You’re too smothering, nobody could take it.
    Skip was saying something. “Do you think I’ll ever get over this?”
    She was so pathetic, this huge, competent woman, obviously so unlike herself right now, that Boo wanted to hug her and tell her that yes, everything would be fine; but she wasn’t sure of that.
    Probably Skip would never get over it completely. But she would stop being depressed.
    “Of course you will,” she said. “People do.”
    It just takes time, and it’s incredibly