The Vanishing Gary Brown (booksvooks TXT) 📖

way to Sacramento to meet with some business associates of mine. Rosa, I’d like you to meet a friend, Dr. Claire Prescott.”

Rosa shook Claire’s hand. “Mucho gusto, Doctor,” she said. “Very pleased to meet you.” The warmth of her smile never waned, as though it were a permanent fixture on her kind face. “Entrar! Come in! Make yourselves at home.”

Rosa escorted Martin and Claire to a quiet table by the window and took their order.

“You sit with your beautiful lady friend and be comfortable,” Rosa said. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Minutes later she returned to their table and presented them with a delicious breakfast of blueberry waffles with maple syrup, hickory-smoked bacon, home fries, and a carafe of freshly brewed coffee.

“You and Rosa seem to know each other well,” Claire said.

“I’ve known Rosa and her husband Miguel almost all my life,” Martin replied. “They worked for my parents while I was growing up in San Mateo and lived in our guest house on the property. Rosa was our maid, Miguel our cook. I’m very close to both of them. My parents were both professionals and traveled a lot. Rosa practically raised me. When my parents retired, they sold their estate and moved to Switzerland. They wanted to find an appropriate way to thank them for their many years of dedicated service and for always taking such good care of me when I was young. They offered to set them up in a business of their own, just in case the new estate owners decided against keeping them on as staff. They accepted their offer, opened this diner, and named it after my mother. Rosa seems happy. I’m glad to see they’re doing well. I know how hard they’ve worked for it.”

“That was a very kind gesture on your parent’s behalf.”

“That’s the way they are. They’re good people.”

“Do you see them often?”

“As often as I can. My writing keeps me pretty busy, and my work with Mark, Justin and Cynthia, whom you’ll meet shortly when we get to Sacramento. But we try to get together as much as possible.”

“That’s nice.” Claire paused. “God, you’re lucky. I miss my family so much.”

“Speaking of family, would you mind if I ask you a few questions about yours?”

“Not at all,” Claire replied. “What do you want to know?”

“You said Amanda disappeared.”

“Yes.”

“That you believed she was abducted.”

“That’s right.”

“But you don’t have any actual proof of that, do you?”

“No,” Claire replied. “But everyone who knew Amanda would tell you she simply wasn’t the type to just walk away from her life. Frankly, until I read your book, I had resigned myself to believing she was dead. Now, after seeing her picture, I just don’t know what to think anymore.”

Martin stirred his coffee spoon in slow, thoughtful circles as Claire spoke, then asked, “In your experience as a psychiatrist, have you ever dealt with patients affected by a condition known as Stockholm Syndrome?”

“No, I haven’t. Why?”

“I’ve come across it many times in my investigations of cults and the people involved with them. When some people are taken against their will and held for long periods of time in an environment where escape is all but impossible, as with a kidnapping or hostage taking, they can manifest a wide range of obsessive emotional connections toward their captors, especially if acts of kindness are extended to them contrary to treatment they would have expected to receive under such circumstances. For example, they may sympathize with their abductor and believe that they brought the situation upon themselves when of course nothing could be further from the truth. Some victims even fall in love with their captors. It’s a form of psychological self-defence that kicks in at a certain point in the relationship, sort of the same way the fight-or-flight principle works. In one case we dealt with the victim even resisted the extraction teams rescue attempt. They barely got out alive.”

“Are you implying that if Amanda was taken years ago by members of The Brethren, she could have made a conscious decision to avoid being found?”

“Exactly.”

Claire leaned back in her chair, contemplated Martin’s words. “I never considered that.”

“Most people wouldn’t. The psychological control these groups exert is much stronger than you or me, as sound-minded individuals could imagine. And to an impressionable young girl like Amanda, which she was at the time she disappeared, well… who knows. I can guarantee you this much, though. If The Brethren are responsible for Amanda’s disappearance, we’re going to need professional help. Tracking them to a specific location will be a tough job. Which is probably why the police had such a hard time getting any leads on her.”

“Dear God!” Claire said. “What has Amanda gotten herself into?”

“Nothing we can’t get her out of,” Martin replied. He reached across the table and took her hand. His touch was warm, calming. “Don’t be scared, Claire. I’m not going anywhere. I agreed to help you, which means I’m in this for as long as it takes. But if this is as serious as I think it might be, I suggest you call your office as soon as we leave here. You’re going to need to clear your schedule for the next couple of days, maybe longer. Can you do that?”

“Of course. Amanda is my priority right now. I’ll advise the clinic to put my cases on hold until I get back, whenever that will be.”

“Good. Then let’s finish eating and get going. I don’t want to be late for our meeting.”

Rosa came to their table as they finished their meal, a yellow rose in her hand. “For you, Doctor,” she said. “A little thank you for your visit.”

Claire accepted the gift. “How sweet of you, Rosa. Thank you.”

“De nada,” Rosa said. “It’s nothing. You are always welcome at Belinda’s. Just be sure to bring my Martin with you when you come again. I don’t get to see as much of him these days as I’d like to.”

Claire smiled. “I’ll do my best.”

Martin kissed Rosa