Every Single Secret(60)

“I did?” Heath asked.

“Hm.” I glanced back at Cerny. His face had gone slack.

“Does that mean anything to you, Dr. Cerny?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I can’t really say.” His eyes were hard and narrowed and laser focused on me. I wondered if he knew I had broken into his barn and seen the old desk. I wasn’t sure. I couldn’t imagine he’d be anything but annoyed at my little game. But he didn’t look annoyed. He looked furious.

I was so relaxed now; there was no question he had dosed me with something, but only a distant part of me was afraid. Mostly, now, I was feeling about ten feet tall.

“I’m sure,” I said breezily, “that, as his psychologist, you’ll enjoy solving the mystery. Good night.”

I walked to the door and was about to reach for the keys, when I felt Heath beside me, his breath in my ear. I froze as his hand clamped around my wrist. I had the keys in my sights, right there, within a literal arm’s reach.

“No.” His voice was only a whisper, but he was shaking. Before I could protest, he pulled me away from the keys and out the door.



Chapter Twenty-Two

“Why did you say that to Dr. Cerny?” Heath asked.

It was almost dinnertime, and if I was serious about finding Glenys, I probably should’ve been keeping an eye out for Luca. But the episode in Cerny’s office had thrown me off. I was more than a little high and way past done with this place. All I wanted to do was go home.

Dully, I scanned the room:

In the frame of the oil painting above the fireplace.

In that floor lamp in the corner of the sitting area.

Somewhere along the mirror above the dresser.

In the fan above the bed.

Behind me, Heath cleared his throat. “Did I really say that ‘I have no pity’ thing?” He was speaking carefully, like he was picking his way over broken glass.

Should I tell him about the other cameras in our room? Would it convince him that we had to leave? I didn’t know anything anymore. This place was turning me upside down.

“No, you didn’t say that.” I scrubbed at my eyes. “It was just something I saw on some old furniture in the barn, a phrase scratched on a desk.”

He leapt up. “Daphne! God!”

I straightened in surprise. “What?”

“You can’t do that!” he yelled. “You’re messing with my treatment. Don’t you understand?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

“You don’t like Cerny, it’s obvious. But that doesn’t give you the right to lie to him about me.”

“I’m sorry, okay? It’s just . . . I feel really weird. Not myself. I’m pretty sure he put something in that juice he gave me.”

He made an exasperated sound. “Oh, come on. You wanted to fuck with him, and you saw your chance. Don’t pass the blame.”

“I’m not!” I shouted. Then, aware again of the cameras, I lowered my voice. “Okay, you don’t have to believe me. But you have to admit nothing here makes sense. Why aren’t we allowed to talk to anyone? Why does Dr. Cerny act so goddamn weird all the time . . .” Why does he have a state investigator’s card in his desk and a closetful of women’s clothing? Why is the yard full of dead birds?

And the cook seems to be trying to send me a message every time I run into him . . .

Heath shook his head. “You can’t just make stuff up. This is a serious process.”

“So get him to prescribe you some sleeping pills and let’s go home. There’s nothing that says you have to offer him your soul.”

“I know how you feel about therapists. I know this is hard for you . . .”

“This is not hard for me,” I said evenly. “I’m not afraid of Dr. Cerny. I know what the Internet says, that he’s a qualified doctor and everybody thinks he’s a miracle worker. It’s just . . .” I trailed off. “I’m not comfortable talking to him about your nightmares. You can talk to him, but I can’t. I don’t trust him.”

“You’re saying you don’t trust me.”

“No. Yes. Yes, I do.”

“You’re pissed that you told me about your past. You regret it.”

“Stop it, Heath. Don’t turn this around on me.”

“You’re so full of bullshit,” he spat. “You only told me about the ranch, about Omega and Chantal, because you were scared to hear more about my past. To really go there with me, all the way to the darkest part. And now you’re acting weird and distant and cold. You can’t stand it, the reality of actually being close to me.”

My face flushed. “No.”

But he’d hit on something. Being here at Baskens had changed us, set us on what felt like an irreversible course. I couldn’t pretend like our pasts didn’t exist, but I didn’t want to go forward and deal with all of it, either. I was stuck, here in this twisted house.

He fixed me with a hard look. “So you just happened to see that phrase, I have no pity, carved on a piece of furniture?”

“It was on this old school desk I found in the barn. I don’t understand why it bothers you so much. Am I missing something here?”

A knock sounded on the door, and I jumped like someone had set off a bomb. I went for the door, but Heath caught my arm.