The Good Listener

by B. M. Hardin

  “I see you came.”

  “Well, I’m about ready to walk out on the job anyway, so it’s no big deal.”

  “How did you get such a good job?”

  “I applied when I settled here. I applied to a few with my new identity, and background. They were the first to bite. The company was eager to get someone in, and since I looked so good on paper, they started with me. I had no idea what I was doing, but I researched and pretended well enough until I actually learned to fill the shoes of the role that I was in. Surprisingly, I became really good at it as time went by.”

  “I just don’t understand why you would want to leave it all. Granted the way that you got to where you are isn’t idealistic, but nevertheless, you’re stable now.”

  “Physically. Yes. Mentally. No. They pay me big bucks, every single year and would you like to know where I live Hannah? In a hotel. I move from hotel to hotel every few months. I never planned to stay here. I never planned to build a life here. As I said, I was just passing through. I’ve just lingered around for longer than I expected.”

  “So, you have plenty of money, no real attachments here, and the only thing keeping you here now is the need to kill someone? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Maybe not to you. But it makes perfect sense to me. Can I use your bathroom?”

  Normally I instructed patients to go to the restroom in the lobby, but I allowed him to.

  He sat his keys and his phone on the couch and headed to do his business.

  As soon as he shut the door, his phone started to vibrate.

  I wasn’t going to look at it, at least that’s what I wanted to tell myself, but I reached over and picked it up.

  My eyes became as big as golf balls as I stared at the words and the photo that was under it.

  Summer.

  As the toilet flushed, I hurriedly laid the phone back down in the exact spot on the couch.

  Why was Summer calling him?

  There was definitely something fishy going on and I had to figure out just what it was.

  He entered back into the room and took a seat.

  I wanted to mention Summer, but I didn’t.

  Timing was everything with him, and I just got the feeling that mentioning her now wouldn’t be the right time.

  He looked at his phone, but he didn’t show any facial expression.

  Then he looked at me.

  “So, when was the last time that you were involved with someone?”

  “Never.”

  “So you have never had a girlfriend, or exclusively dated anyone?”

  “No.”

  “But you have had sex?”

  He chuckled.

  “Of course.”

  “They were all just one night stands?”

  “Yep.”

  “How did you pick them? Was it the way that they looked? Did you find them attractive?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Did you approach them? What did you say?”

  “They approached me. And I didn’t have to say anything. They offered.”

  We talked a little more about his sexual affairs, and I found out that every woman that he’d been with looked similar to his mother.

  At least from the descriptions that he’d given me.

  How sick was that?

  Same height.

  Same hair color.

  Even down to the same color eyes.

  I wondered if he’d had some type of obsession with his mother or inappropriate attraction to her.

  Maybe he wasn’t being honest.

  Maybe that’s why he hated her so much.

  Of course, I asked him, and he said no, but there had to be something.

  There was always a reason for everything that he did.

  I was sure that there was something that attracted him to those women concerning his mother, and I was sure that whoever his new victim was, she probably matched the description of his mother too.

  Maybe I was on to something.

  I wondered if Summer and Blake were having sex, but still, I didn’t mention anything about her to him.

  Not just yet.

  “As I told you, no one has even uttered the words “I love you” to me since I was a very small child.”

  “But you won’t let anyone close enough to even get that far with you.”

  “I know. But can you imagine having a natural desire for something, longing for something, but knowing that you have to deprive yourself of it because it isn’t good for you?”

  “It could be. You won’t know because you won’t even try.”

  “Why should I try to love only to end up like you and most of the rest of the world? Hurt and confused, and one lie or mistake from a divorce.”

  Good point.

  Very good point.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “But I can intelligently assume it. When you start caring about people, you become weak. A soft, weak, caring heart will set you up for failure every time.”

  “Not always. You have to care about someone at some point or another.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “You’re a selfish man.”

  “And so is your husband.”

  Ouch.

  “Now that was out of line don’t you think?”

  “Why because it’s the truth?”

  The truth definitely hurts.

  “Let’s just change the subject okay?”

  He shrugged his shoulders.

  “Despite all of the bad and the wrongful things that have happened to you, has there ever been a time that you were happy? In the midst of all of the Hell in your life, can you remember at least one happy moment?”

  Blake sat for a while.

  “Other than my one and only vacation, there was one other time. I was about fifteen. I had a foster sister, Christine, who wasn’t as mean to me like everyone else. She didn’t pick on me or make me feel different. She would sneak into my room when everyone was asleep and talk to me. I remember one night she came into my room. It was late, and she woke me up. She sat on the edge of the bed and talked to me. She told me stories and jokes. I laughed so hard. I had never laughed like that before. It felt good. It felt good that someone actually saw me. She just talked and talked, and she made me laugh until my stomach hurt. To this day, I remember every word that she said. Every single word.”

  He smiled as he reminisced.

  And then abruptly, the smile went away.

  “She told me that she didn’t fit in with the rest of her siblings and that I was the only one that understood her. She said that I was more of a brother to her than her real brothers and sisters were.”

  He stopped and looked down at his vibrating phone.

  “And that was a happy moment for you? That someone made you laugh and that she actually liked you. What happened after that?”

  He looked at me with sad eyes.

  “I killed her.”

  I should have known.

  He explained how and why he killed her.

  He even told me how he got rid of the body and how stupid his foster father at the time, the chief of police, had been.

  He had searched vigorously for his “runaway daughter” when she had been buried in his backyard the whole time.

  “So, how do I stop being scared of letting others near?”

  I wanted to tell him that I didn’t know because honestly, I didn’t.

  But that wouldn’t have been very professional of me.

  “You have to be committed to change Blake. Saying one thing is completely different from doing it. And it’s going to take time, practice and patience.”

  “What if I can’t do it? What if I never change?”

  “We are going to figure it out together,” was the best answer that I could come up with.

  But it wasn’t good enough.

  ~***~

  “I’m going to my brother’s for a while,” Joel proclaimed.

  Good.

  I didn’t even b
other to ask him which one.

  I simply nodded.

  “You’re not going to say anything?”

  “What do you want me to say, Joel?”

  “You know what? You’re so busy counseling everyone else maybe it’s time to check into someone who can counsel us.”

  “I don’t need counseling. I’m fine. You are the one who stepped out on our marriage. Not me.”

  “But you played your part, Hannah.”

  “No. I didn’t.”

  “Do you really believe that?”

  I didn’t, but I wasn’t going to let him blame me for his mistake.

  He had to take responsibility.

  “It doesn’t matter who is at fault Joel. What matters is that you slept with someone else. I didn’t. Tell your brother that I said hi.”

  And with that, I started to read a few papers and soon after Joel walked out the door.

  Time apart was just what we needed.

  It was what he needed to understand that he could never do anything like that again.

  I had another session with Blake tomorrow, and I planned on staying at work late, so with Joel gone, I could stay as late as I wanted to without having to come home and argue about it.

  I planned to ask Blake about Summer during our next session.

  I wanted to know about their relationship, the phone calls, and his office visit.

  He was hiding their relationship for a reason.

  I wondered if he’d hinted at my husband’s infidelity on purpose or because he knew that it had been with Summer.

  Maybe he was jealous.

  Blake was known to have stalking tendencies, so he had probably been following her.

  Could she be the woman that he wanted to kill?

  But why?

  Between Blake, Summer and Joel, I was starting to feel like there was something bigger was going on around me, and I didn’t like it.

  I didn’t like it one bit.

  I studied the notes on Blake for so long that night that I dreamed about him murdering the mysterious woman again.

  I couldn’t see her face.

  I never could.

  I could only see his.

  He was choking her, just the way that he said that he would.

  I woke up the next morning in a cold sweat.

  But I also woke up more determined than ever.

  I wanted to try a few things so I jumped out of bed and headed to my closet.

  Since I had a feeling that he had a thing for Summer, I had an idea.

  I was going to dress and look like Summer for the day.

  I was going to wear my hair the way that she wore hers, and I was even going to wear the same bright red lipstick that she wore.

  I wanted to see if I noticed any discomfort from Blake just from the way that I looked.

  There was a reason behind everything that he said and did, and there was a reason why he hadn't mentioned anything between he and Summer.

  As I drove, I made up in my mind that I was going to refer all of my patients to my colleagues.

  I wasn’t sure if it was temporary or permanently, but I didn’t have enough focus to go around at the moment.

  I was going to tell them that I needed a personal leave, and hopefully, my colleagues could help them on their journeys to recovery.

  Blake needed all of my attention.

  I was still only going to see him three days a week so that we both had a break in between sessions to regroup.

  At the moment, nothing else mattered.

  Not my husband.

  Not my marriage.

  Not my reputation or my other patients.

  Just him.

  I had to save him.

  I had to do this for me.

  Heading to work, I worked with my new assistant to start calling my other patients to give them the news.

  I told my patients that were already scheduled for that day face to face.

  They weren’t happy about it and one even felt as though the whole process had been a waste of her time.

  I felt bad, I did, but there was nothing that I could do about it.

  I just didn’t have the time or head space for the type of workload that I could normally handle.

  Now that they were gone, I waited for Blake to arrive.

  I watched him as he eyed me up and down.

  I sat in front of him and waited for him to finish his observation.

  He didn’t seem uncomfortable.

  He seemed confused and maybe even a little displeased.

  “I guess you are going through some kind of midlife crisis huh?”

  I giggled at his insult.

  I actually didn’t think that I looked that bad.

  It was definitely out of the normal for me, but I thought that I pulled it off well.

  “No. Does the way I look bother you?”

  “No. But it should bother you,” he laughed.

  Hmm…

  “So, how are you feeling today?”

  “The same way I feel every day. I quit my job today.”

  “What?”

  “Tell your husband to go apply. He could definitely do the job.”

  “He has a new job already.”

  “Yeah, but he wanted mine.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “What makes you not? Why do you think that he quit?”

  I just looked at him.

  “You guys aren’t doing well are you?”

  “This session isn’t about me.”

  “It’s just a question.”

  “No. We aren’t.”

  “I know. I watched him leave yesterday with some of his things.”

  He did what?

  “What do you mean you watched him leave?”

  “Just what I said.”

  “So you were at my house?”

  “Yes. Well, technically across the street.”

  A feeling of fright seemed to almost suffocate me as I cleared my throat.

  “What reason do you have to be watching my house Blake?”

  “I told you a long time ago that I watch and learn. I guess you weren’t listening. I watch it sometimes. Just so happen yesterday that’s what I saw.”

  “You didn’t answer my question. I asked why?”

  “You know everything about me. Sometimes when I’m feeling certain urges, I’ll ride to your house, sit and replay our sessions in my head. I’ll sit for hours and then I’ll head back to the hotel. It helps.”

  Well, I didn’t like it.

  I didn’t want to be watched, stalked, or anything by him.

  But maybe I shouldn’t be complaining if watching my house and thinking about therapy kept him from killing his next victim, but it was just too much.

  Stalking was still stalking no matter what the reasons were.

  Period.

  “Call my cell. Don’t watch my house Blake,” I said to him and he shrugged.

  “What is the relationship between you and Summer?”

  “What?”

  “What is the relationship between you and Summer?” I repeated.

  “What makes you think there is a relationship?”

  “Surveillance showed you and her talking for a while here together and then leaving together. Also, I saw her call your phone. So, are you dating?”

  “No.”

  “Is she the one you want to kill?”

  He was quiet.

  Oh my goodness, was I right?

  “No,” he said finally.

  I was on to something.

  I could feel it.

  “So, what do you guys talk about if it isn’t romantic? How do you know her?”

  “We met a long time ago, way before I came to see you. I didn’t know that she worked here until seeing her that day I came to ask for your help. We chatted a little while, and exchanged numbers.”

  “Had sex?”

  “No. That was between her and your husband.”

  He hit a soft spot, but I kept going
.

  “And you were jealous?”

  “No.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then nothing. She can’t be trusted. She was sleeping with a married man so as far as I’m concerned, she’s just a waste of human flesh. She’s just like every other woman with no morals these days.”

  “So you did know about them having sex?”

  “Everyone knew but you.”

  “What do you mean? Who is everyone? Are you saying that China knew too?”

  He shrugged.

  “He told China everything.”

  I didn’t believe it.

  I wouldn’t believe it.

  I wouldn’t believe that China knew about what had happened with Joel and Summer.

  She would have told me.

  She was a real friend.

  No matter what she would have told me.

  We told each other everything.

  “Did China tell you something about them?”

  “No.”

  “Then why did you make the comment?”

  Blake didn’t say anything.

  “Was it more than once?”

  “That’s something you’ll have to ask one of them.”

  “But I’m asking you.”

  “This is my session remember? It’s about my life. Not yours.”

  “Fine. So what is it? You want to punish her for being a homewrecker? That’s why you want to kill her? Because she’s a piece of wasted human flesh? In your words. You met her. You talked to her. You found out that she was sleeping with my husband. Started coming to therapy sessions to keep an eye on her. And maybe to really keep from killing her. Because I believe that you really do want my help. And now she’s gone. She still wants to see if there can be something between you two, so she’s still calling. Not knowing that you know the truth. Not knowing that you really want to hurt her.”

  “You think you have it all figured out don’t you?”

  “I’m just thinking out loud.”

  “So, let’s say that you were right. Say Summer is my next victim. Say she is the person who I want to kill. Save her. Help me. Help convince me not to kill the woman that has been sleeping with your husband.”

  I looked at him to see if he was serious.

  He appeared to be.

  “Save your husband’s mistress. And since I want to see what you are made of, you’re right, it was more than once. I watched them meet, several times. Sometimes at your house. Sometimes at hers or at hotels. One evening that you called to tell him that you were going to dinner with China, I heard Joel tell you that he was working late…he wasn’t. He was with Summer. He was with his mistress. I spotted him coming out of the hotel that he doesn’t know that I live in. I pretended to be doing something just as scandalous as he was. I acted as though I was taking some kind of walk of shame right along with him, and we went to have drinks from there. I got him drunk, and he gave me all the details. So there you have it. They were sleeping together right under your nose for who knows how long. And yes, China knew. That’s why she invited you to dinner so that he and Summer could sneak off to the hotel together without too much of a fuss.”