Chapter 25

Joyce was taking notes on her tablet during the session with Harold. Out of all of her patients, he was the only one who laid down on the couch during the session, while she sat at her office desk. The added comfort enabled Harold to be more open with his thoughts and reduce his anxiety. The phone was off so there would not be a risk of telemarketers interrupting her therapy session with her patients. An embarrassing inconvenience that had happened many times before. She would often keep the phone to the side of her computer monitor if she needed to get to it quickly during emergencies.

“How has your drinking situation been lately, Harold?” she said in a calm and nurturing voice.

“Since I have cut back, I’ve been finding myself in a darker place.”

“That’s common among former alcoholics, especially those with anxiety disorders. You must look to others for support, not just myself. Have you talked to your wife and daughter about what you have been experiencing?”

“We try to talk, but there’s a thick fog around me at all times. It soaks up any kind of sympathy coming my way and spits it back out in the opposite direction. My wife finds me irritable as a result.”

“Do you think we should bring her into one of our sessions? Perhaps it will give her more perspective on what you are going through.”

“I don’t know. Maybe. It’s just tough. Like the only time when I feel like myself and can find a moment of peace and happiness is when I’m drinking. It’s difficult to even socialize with my friends without it.”

“I understand your situation. I promise you that it is common and will go away over time. You just have to be patient, as does your family. Think about how excess alcohol is harming not only your loved ones but your body and mind as well. It offers a brief release from the stresses of our everyday lives, but in excess, it becomes a double-edged sword. You can lose yourself, and your understanding of what feelings are real.”

“I know. It’s just so physically and mentally aggravating.”

“Tell me, Harold. The dark place that you mentioned. Have you been having thoughts of harming yourself or others?”

“Others? No. Myself? Sometimes.”

Joyce made some notes on her tablet, also glancing at the time. The session was already close to fifteen minutes over time. She would only have another fifteen minutes before her next session. She felt that the answer Harold had given should not be ignored. “Would you be willing to stay a little longer today? I really want to talk through these feelings that you’ve been having.”

“Yes, doc. I can do that.”

“Great. Thank you. When y–" The tablet vibrated and chimed in Joyce’s hands. She had set it up so that she could be alerted when another patient was approaching the back of the house, which led to her office. “I’m so sorry, Harold. Another patient is here for his appointment. I’m going to ask if he could wait a little longer while you and I work through a few more issues. Are you okay with that?”

“Yes, as long as your other patient doesn’t mind.”

“I’m sure it will be fine. I’ll be right back.”

Joyce set the tablet down on her desk and walked to the back door, where her next patient was politely standing. “You must be Jacob Harding. I’m Dr. Joyce Brandt, come on in.”

Under the guise of Jacob Harding, Lucious walked through the doorway and shook her hand. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“I know this is a little unprofessional of me to ask, especially for your first visit. But would you mind waiting a little while longer? I just need a little more extended time with my current patient. I promise you that you’ll be my priority when you’re on the couch as well,” Joyce said with an irresistible smile.

Lucious wasn’t very fond of waiting extra time. This was already supposed to take another hour to deal with, who knows how much longer this would need to go on. Rather than making a big fuss, he stuck to his façade and agreed to wait a while longer. “It’s okay, Dr. Brandt. Take the time that you need. Is there someplace I can sit? I’ve been on my feet all day.”

“Thanks. You are most kind. Sure, you can sit in one of these chairs in the hallway here, or if you want to be really comfortable, you can find a comfy spot on the sofa in the living room down at the end.” She pointed down the hallway and to the left.

“Sounds like a plan, thank you.”

Joyce excused herself and walked back into her office to discuss further information with Harold.

Edward Brandt was driving exceedingly fast along interstate eighty-seven. It was sheer luck that he hadn’t been pulled over yet. The laws of the road were the furthest thing from his mind. Even if the infamous flashing lights did appear in his rear-view mirror, he wouldn’t pull over. He needed to get to Joyce and quick. Over one hundred and twenty-five miles of travel separated them. He wondered what was going to happen to her. Would he be too late? He knew that her sessions typically lasted an hour. If nothing bad were to happen during that hour, then that would at least be a small blessing. Occasionally he would slap himself for not buying that phone charger sooner. Perhaps he could have somehow warned her that she could be in danger as well. Or that he could hear the sound of her voice one last time. Thinking in hindsight was driving him into madness. The only action he could take now is pressing the pedal to the metal.

Lucious looked down at his watch. One forty-five, what the hell? The extended appointment was really starting to get him anxious. He had already snooped around as much as he could out of curiosity and boredom. He heard a door open in hopes that it was Joyce finally evicting her overstayed guest.

“Great session today. Really good progress, Harold. Remember, you can call me at any time if you have an emergency. If Nancy can make it next time, it may be beneficial,” Joyce said as Harold exited the office.

“Thanks for everything, doc.” Harold saw Lucious briefly before he turned to exit the house. “I’m sorry we took so long.”

“Not a problem,” Lucious lied. He was ready to pounce on Harold and beat the crazy out of him for making him wait so long.

Joyce exited her office and moved towards the living room to find her next patient staring at one of the paintings in the living room. “Do you like it?”

“It’s not real, right?” Lucious had an honest curiosity. The unavoidable result of being an art major in another life.

Joyce giggled. “No, I’m afraid not. It’s a copy, albeit a really nice textured copy. Doctors often have a decent income, but definitely not THAT decent. Besides, I don’t think the National Museum Cardiff of Wales would part with the original. Do you like impressionist works?” She referred to a copy of Claude Monet’s San Giorgio Maggiore at Dusk.

As much as Lucious could talk about art all day long, he knew that there were more pressing matters to attend to. He imagined that Nyx was probably more anxious than he was at the moment. “I find them relaxing to look at. Are you ready to see me now, Dr. Brandt?”

Joyce nodded. “Absolutely, Jacob. If you would follow me, we’ll get started.”

Dan was starting to have panic attacks as he raced to catch up to Edward. He was uncomfortable with the speeds, and he lost sight of him over twenty minutes ago. He was already in a battle of his own between shotty cell phone reception and trying to get ahold of people that could get to Joyce first. He had already tried to contact some of his friends at the Bureau, but there was no answer. In a last resort attempt, he had attempted to contact nine-one-one emergency, but after seven minutes of waiting, the signal cut out and the call dropped. To make matters worse, his phone was also running low on battery. Of all times. Of all days. Nobody wants to answer the phone. Phone companies are working on their towers. And Joyce is in a dire situation. God damnit. He slammed his fist into the steering wheel in frustration and anger. “Ow.” Dan was also beginning to wonder if he would end up seeing vehicles piled along the side of the road due to Edward’s reckless driving. Or worse, Edward himself wrecked on the side of the road. “Alright, time to try this again.” He picked up the phone to dial Joyce’s number.

Lucious chose to sit on the couch rather than lay on it. He didn’t want to be that comfortable in this environment. He had an entire hour to waste, plus whatever time he needed to gather the gun from the truck and beg for help. Making the best use of the opportunity and time was the only valid choice right now.

“So, Jacob. Where do you think this anxiety comes from?” Joyce asked while pressing a few times on her tablet.

“Well. I used to have a good grasp on what to expect next in life. I felt like I was always in control. Nowadays, things are changing around me so quickly, I barely know where I am standing at any given time.”

Joyce made a few notes in her tablet and looked back up. “It’s natural to feel like you are in control. It is confidence manifested. What isn’t so natural is feeling like you are in control all the time. We have to embrace the randomness of the world in order to grow and experience new things.”

“What if it feels like I’m not in control of myself. Perhaps as if someone else is pulling my strings like a marionette?”

“There’s also plenty of people that feel that way as well. This is why we have these sessions, to understand that we don’t have to feel that way all the time. We are in control of ourselves, even if we can’t control the world around us.”

Lucious stared blankly and thought to himself, easy for you to say.

“Do you think this feeling stems from a particular person in your life? A lover? An employer? A theological teaching?”

Lucious knew the answer to the question but couldn’t force himself to speak the words. He never knew when the watchful eye, the puppet master, Avery, was listening. Saying the wrong thing could lead to him being the next target, perhaps by Nyx, who was waiting patiently up the street. It was one of the few times he had to lie during the appointment. “I don’t really know what causes it. I feel pretty good about the people I work with and my partner.”

Joyce put the tablet on the desk and leaned forward in her chair. She could tell he wasn’t being completely honest and open with her. “Jacob. You really should learn to be more open with your thoughts. When something troubles us in this way, it’s rarely the result of our own doing. Yes, certain medical conditions related to the brain could cause a person to lose control of themselves, but I don’t think that is what you are experiencing. I think there’s at least one person out there, that you strive to be or are afraid of, causing such anxiety within you.”

“I understand.”

“Hiding behind your thoughts not only hinders your progress in these sessions but will likely make things worse for you in the future. Do you think that you can continue being honest with me?”

“I will certainly try.” Lucious didn’t know how else to respond. He understood his task and the threat of not following through with it. On the other hand, he felt like he was getting valuable and much needed things off his chest for one of the first times in a very long time.

Edward did his best to ignore the constant honking and occasional middle finger from the other drivers on the road. With speeds sometimes nearing one hundred miles per hour in some areas, he was at least thankful that he hadn’t caused any accidents. He passed a familiar sign that gave him relief and worry. Albany City Limits. As he exited the interstate, he thought about sending his car to a screeching halt and grabbing a cell phone from one of the pedestrians that lined the sidewalks. That would waste too much valuable time. Almost there. He accelerated through the intersection’s red light to the tune of more honking and a loud bang. Looking in his rear-view mirror, he noticed that two drivers had collided in the intersection as a result of the chaos and confusion. “Sorry.”

Dan did not have any further luck with his phone. He almost threw it out of the driver-side window in frustration when the battery finally died. He couldn’t have been more than fifteen miles behind Edward but still had his share of honking and middle fingers thrown his way. Picking up the phone again, he hoped by some miracle that there was enough residual charge for him to send one more message.

The car in front of him started to slow down dramatically. “Oh shit.” Dan looked up and ripped the steering wheel to the left to avoid becoming a statistic. In the panic, the phone slipped from his hands and dropped to the floorboard and underneath the driver’s seat. Still a little shaken from the near collision, his only thoughts were to ease off the gas and pray that either Joyce got one of his messages in time or Edward was already there to save the day.

“This was a really good first step, Jacob. I’m glad you came by and were not afraid to seek help. Again, I apologize for the extended sessions and hope to see you next week.”

Lucious walked out of the office. He had felt some of the burden on his shoulders lifted. He thought about the life he had been living, and how there was nobody in it to talk to about important issues. There was no resentment for his chosen profession; after all, it was never personal, but somehow the next step felt personal. “Thanks, Dr. Brandt.”

Hearing himself say ‘Brandt’ snapped him out of serenity. It had been a long day, and it started to bother him what he needed to do. In another life, he could have seen him with someone like Joyce. A compassionate person, full of personality, and who had an appreciation for fine art. As he left the house to enact the second part of the plan, he drew a deep breath of fresh air. While second thoughts should have entered his mind, he faced the facts that if Nyx didn’t kill him for his failure, Avery would certainly find a way. Remain cold. Remain calculated.

Lucious opened the driver’s side door to his car, pulling the latch to pop the hood and removing the Springfield XD from under the seat. He stuffed the handgun into his jeans and behind his back, then walked over to the front of the vehicle to fully open the hood. This signaled to Nyx that he was ready to kill Joyce. Nyx would soon be slowly driving down the street, waiting to see a bloodied Lucious exit the house, then make the anonymous phone call. Lucious just needed to get back into the house now.

Joyce ended the session on her tablet after entering a few more concerning notes about Jacob. She pressed the power to her cell phone and placed it next to the tablet; it always took a while to boot up. The tablet began to chime and shake. She was not expecting any more appointments today. Curiously, she picked up the tablet and noticed Jacob standing outside the door again. Oh, maybe he forgot something. She turned around and, at the same time, her phone began vibrating and beeping like a turbulent airliner. Ignoring the phone, she went to the door and opened it to find Jacob standing there.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Brandt. My car wouldn’t start, and I don’t have my phone. Could I possibly use yours to make a phone call?”

“Absolutely. Come on in; it’s in my office.”

Joyce noticed something a little strange in how Jacob was now carrying himself. There was a hint of sadness in his eyes and a reluctance in how he was now walking. His shirt was now half untucked, and he kept moving his hand behind him as if he was guarding something.

“Hold on, let me unlock it for you.” Joyce reached down to pick up the phone and noticed many missed calls and text messages. The top message was from a number she had never seen before and read, ‘he is going to kill you. Get out! -Jean’. The message was deeply alarming. Was the message meant for me? Is someone else in trouble? Were they referring to Jacob?

She had chosen to remain alert but calm. Nothing had happened yet, but there was caution in how she handed the phone over to Jacob.

Lucious took the phone and could only say one thing. “I’m sorry, Joyce.”

Joyce now knew with absolute certainty that the message was meant for her. As Jacob spoke the words, she noticed his hand moving behind his back in almost slow motion. The only thing she could think of in that moment was running, but Jacob was blocking the exit from her office. Think. Think. Quickly and without hesitation, she grabbed a steel fountain pen from the holder on her desk. She turned around just in time to notice the pistol drawing aim towards her. Gripping the pen as hard as she could, she dropped down and stabbed Jacob through his thigh.

“Ahhh!” Lucious belched out in pain. His reflexes made him swing the butt of the Springfield XD across Joyce’s face. She fell back and slumped over her desk. Still conscious, she held the right side of her face with the palm of her hand. “You bitch. And I was going to make this quick.”

There was no more remorse in his head after that. Lucious raised the handgun and took aim at the back of her head. Three loud explosions echoed through the house as blood and brain matter sprayed across the room.