I SEE YOU an unputdownable psychological thriller with a breathtaking twist PATRICIA MACDONALD (read 50 shades of grey txt) 📖
- Author: PATRICIA MACDONALD
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‘There’s no treatment for psychopaths?’ Hannah asked warily.
‘No. Nothing that works. On the other hand, you can be a psychopath and function just fine in the world.’
‘I thought psychopaths were serial killers and things like that,’ Hannah protested.
‘Well, it’s sort of a continuum — psychopathy. It runs the gamut from depraved criminals to corporate CEOs. What they all have in common is that they don’t have the same internal limits that normal people do. Their right-and-wrong gyroscope has malfunctioned. Or just doesn’t exist.’
Hannah nodded. Her food tasted like dust in her mouth.
‘Does that sound like your client?’ said Jackie.
‘I hardly know her,’ Hannah protested, frowning. ‘But no. I don’t think so. Not really. She seems pretty normal to me. I’m thinking it must be . . . some effort to discredit her. You know how these custody disputes can go.’
Jackie shrugged. ‘Don’t be too sure. Psychopaths are expert liars,’ she said. ‘Often they are highly intelligent people. Capable. Professional. From normal families. It’s not a pathology that’s known to stem from abuse. Some experts think that it’s inborn. That’s why it’s so hard to comprehend. But psychopaths don’t have a depravity meter like the rest of us. They can’t be shocked or troubled by things that normal people find repulsive or reprehensible. They have a complete lack of moral restraint.’
‘That’s an interesting term,’ Hannah murmured.
‘It’s quite accurate,’ Jackie insisted.
‘So, have you ever treated a psychopath?’
‘You mean with therapy?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’ve had patients in treatment who . . . I didn’t know were psychopaths. Not at first. But it became clear over time. With real psychopaths, there’s no way to treat them.’
‘No way? Even if they seek out help?’
Jackie shook her head. ‘They don’t seek out help. Not really. They don’t see themselves as damaged. Of course, I’ve attempted to treat them. Once in a while, in a court-mandated case, you get one as a patient. And you can’t tell right away if you have a psychopath in your office. It’s a pathology which takes a while to recognize. But once you diagnose it, you realize that any effort to treat them is futile. They don’t change. They can’t.’
‘Probably fairly rare,’ said Hannah. She put the rest of her sandwich back into the bag. She no longer felt hungry.
‘Not as rare as you might think,’ said Jackie. ‘They walk among us, seemingly normal. A mother who would assault her own child? Or let someone else assault them? Sure.’
The beautiful day suddenly felt threatening to Hannah. ‘Well, I don’t understand it,’ she said abruptly.
‘No one does. Would you like me to have a session with your client? Maybe I could determine . . .’
Hannah felt as if there were a giant hand, squeezing her heart. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Never mind. As you say, what’s the use?’
TWENTY-ONE
After lunch, Hannah told her supervisor that she wasn’t feeling well, which was certainly true. She said that she needed to go home. Her harried overweight supervisor, a widower named Ward Higgins, had a compassion for people which never seemed to fail. He said that she probably came back to work too soon. ‘You’ve been through an ordeal,’ he said. ‘You need a few days to recover.’
‘Maybe,’ said Hannah, collecting her things and heading for the door. She drove home, almost blindly, unaware of what was happening around her. Luckily, the route home was familiar, and she arrived back at the house without incident.
She hurried inside, avoiding even a glance at Rayanne’s house. She slammed the door and locked it, leaning her back against the door and staring into the depths of the cool, dark house. When she and Adam had bought this house they were so excited to be homeowners with a yard for their little daughter to play in, and a park down the street. Immediately they set about turning their house into a happy home. And they succeeded, Hannah always thought. Years later, when Sydney arrived, unexpectedly, they welcomed their granddaughter in, and tried to make it happy for her also. Hannah felt tears rising to her eyes. Yesterday it had seemed as if their nightmare was over. Until Jamie knocked at the door. And now . . .
Hannah forced herself to concentrate. She had come home for a reason. Her conversation with Jackie had been sickening, and yet she could not avoid the implications of what her friend had said. There was no use in pretending that she hadn’t heard it, hadn’t understood. Everything that Jackie was saying about female psychopaths rang an uncomfortably familiar bell. She tried to tell herself that it wasn’t possible, but she had to know. She didn’t know how she was going to find out but she was going to make a start.
With an effort of will, she pushed herself away from the door and walked down the dimly lit hallway to the door of Lisa’s room. She turned on the overhead light and looked inside. Everything was neat and orderly, as it always was. She had tried never to intrude on her grown daughter’s privacy. After all, she had told herself, it wasn’t as if Lisa had been lying around the house, slothful and unambitious. She was in medical school. Any parent would be proud of that. And the fact that she was single and had a child — that was practically the norm these days. Hannah had always insisted to herself that she had no right to rummage through her daughter’s sanctuary. The other night, she had been appalled to find Adam going through Lisa’s computer. Lisa had not been perfect — in fact, sometimes her behavior had been disturbing and inexplicable to them. But surely she deserved her privacy.
Not anymore, Hannah thought. If there was something secret about Lisa’s life, she would find it in there. Cleverly hidden, no doubt. Lisa knew that her father worked with computers
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