LITMIR.BIZ

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all right. Calm down. Don’t get agitated again.”

      River took a few breaths, wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. “Not a violent…man. Din’t…kill Steph. You know that.”

      “I know,” Ethan said, lowering his eyes.

      “S’posed to get better…here.”

      Ethan sighed. “River, I’m going to review your meds, see where we can start lightening up the doses, and gradually bring you off them. Then we can get an idea where you are without chemical help. And I’ll speak to the staff, make sure you’re safe. I’ll have them keep your room locked while you sleep, have them keep a closer eye on you. All right?”

      “Can’t jus’ stop…meds? Jus’ stop them?”

      Ethan shook his head slowly. “Not all at once, no. You’d be a mess if we did that. I’ll start lowering the doses today. I promise.”

      River sighed. “Okay. Okay.”

      “Okay.” Ethan clasped his shoulders one last time, then got up and went through the door.

      River struggled to his feet, though he had to press his palms to the wall to do it. Then he clung to that wall, pushing himself along it, around a corner and to the door. Exhausted, he leaned against it, his head resting on its smooth, cool surface, his ear pressed tight, because he thought someone might be out there waiting to come in when Ethan left. He had to be careful. Be aware.

      “…must be so hard for you, seeing him like this,” a woman was saying. “He’s not the same man he was when he came here. But I suppose it’s eating away at him. He killed his pregnant wife, for heaven’s sake.”

      “Doctor, he’s drooling a bit,” a second female voice said. “Did you notice it?”

      “Yes. I’m afraid he’s getting worse,” Ethan said. “Showing signs of increased paranoia. Brand-new set of delusions. We’re going to need to increase his meds.”

      “But, Doctor, he’s exhibiting extrapyramidal side effects,” the second voice said. “Doesn’t that indicate he should be taken off the Haldol altogether?”

      “Excuse me, who are you exactly?” Ethan asked.

      The first woman spoke. “She’s new here, Doctor. Forgive her. Nurse Jensen, Dr. Melrose is an excellent psychiatrist. He knows his job.”

      “I know mine, too,” the nurse said, but softly.

      River heard footsteps, then the first nurse again. “I apologize, Doctor. I’ll see to it she learns her place.”

      “Oh, don’t be too hard on her. You know how overzealous new nurses can be. Uh, maybe it would be a good idea to keep her away from this particular patient, though. All right? I don’t want anything interfering with his treatment.”

      “You’re a good friend. He’s lucky to have you,” she said. “I’ll see to it immediately.”

      “Thanks, Judy.” River heard scraping sounds, knew Ethan was taking his chart from the plastic holder there, probably writing in it. “Meanwhile, let’s increase the Haldol. See if it doesn’t help.”

      River groaned softly and gave up his hold on the door, letting himself sink to the floor. Ethan didn’t believe him. His best friend didn’t believe him. His head spun and he fought, fought hard to latch onto a thought. A single thought, anything, to save himself from the madness that was trying so hard to swallow him up.

      He wasn’t insane. It was the meds. The meds were killing him. Good. Good. What then? What could help him? He struggled; fog closed in but he pushed it back.

      Nurse Jensen…she knew. But no, she couldn’t help him. No one could help him. He was on his own. Okay. So he was on his own. And on his own, he had to get out of this place. There. That was it, that was the answer he’d been seeking through the fog. He had to get out of this place.

      

      Cassandra Jackson—Jax to her friends—sat in the front seat of Chief Frankie Parker’s SUV as the countryside of Blackberry, Vermont, unwound before her. She’d been here before, but she would never get over the beauty of a Vermont winter. The entire place looked like a Christmas card—sugar-coated pine trees, leafless maples and poplars glittering with icicles, blankets of snow covering every gentle slope and level field. Frankie drove, smiling and talking nonstop about the benefits of being police chief of a small town. Jax’s parents, Ben and Mariah, rode in the back, agreeing with every word Frankie said.

      “You were so right about this place, honey,” Mariah said. “When you told us a year ago that we’d love it here, I thought you were crazy, but it’s wonderful. Truly.”

      Jax shrugged. “Perfect for you doesn’t necessarily mean perfect for me.” Which was a lie and she knew it. She’d hit a glass ceiling in the Syracuse Police Department. Maybe because she was a woman, but more likely because her father was a convicted murderer who’d only been out of prison for two years. Either way, she’d gone as far as she could go there.

      So when Frankie Parker phoned her with the job offer, she’d been quick to take some vacation time and come up here to check things out. It made a nice excuse to visit her parents.

      She’d fallen in love with the town of Blackberry when she’d been up here a year ago, helping a friend and hunting a killer. Her friends were still here—the killer long dead. And now her parents had settled in nearby to boot, adding to the little town’s attraction.

      “It would be so nice to have you close by, right in the next town,” her father said, speaking slow and softly. “After all, we’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for.”

      “That would be nice,” Jax agreed. God knew she hadn’t had enough time with her father—a lifetime wouldn’t be enough. He’d served twelve hard years in prison, and lost his brilliant medical career because of it. He would never be able to practice medicine again—at least not on human beings. But he hadn’t become despondent. He’d written every day, as had she. And he’d begun studying veterinary medicine while still in prison, and completed his work during the two years since his release. Only six months ago, the AVMA board had voted to grant him a license to practice. He had joined an aging veterinarian at the Blackberry-Pinedale Animal Hospital, and he seemed fulfilled and content.

      He’d aged thirty years in prison. He was skinny as a rail, his hair pure white and thinning, and he was quiet—far more quiet than he’d ever been before. Almost as if he was always far too deep in thought to be bothered with conversation.

      “It would be nice for me, too,” Frankie said. “I’ve been wanting to retire for months, but reluctant to leave the department in less than capable hands. When I thought of you, Jax, it was like a load off my shoulders. I’m convinced you’re the one for the job.”

      “Yeah, yeah, flattery will probably work. Keep it coming,” Jax told her.

      Frankie grinned at her, adding wrinkles to her wrinkles. Jax still wasn’t used to thinking of a sixty-plus-year-old with kinky silver curls as chief of police, but she knew from experience Frankie Parker was a good cop. Her looks just tended to lull you into thinking she was harmless. That probably worked to her advantage.

      “The town board will approve you on my say-so,” she said. “No problem there. It’s really up to you.”

      Again Jax nodded. “Why aren’t you promoting one of the officers from your department, Frankie?”

      “Neither Matthews nor Campanelli are interested,” she said. “Too much paperwork, too much pressure. Though, compared to a big department like Syracuse has, you’ll find it a piece of cake,” she added quickly. “I’ve got one other, Kurt Parker, but frankly, he hasn’t got the temperament for it. Hell, he probably wouldn’t be working for me at all if he wasn’t my nephew.”

      Jax nodded, mulling that over. She hadn’t met Officer Parker. He’d been away

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