by Jaden Skye
“Not really,” said Tracy, looking into the pastor’s crystal clear blue eyes that suddenly were filling with tears.
This was the last thing Tracy wanted, to make him cry. “I’m fine, believe me, I’m fine, Pastor.”
“I wish I could believe that.” His voice trembled. “But in all truth, Tracy, I fear you are not fine at all.”
*
After Tracy kept insisting she needed to sit under the tree near the river for a while, Pastor Boyd finally agreed to leave. Before he did, though, he let it be clearly known that he was here for Tracy at any time. He invited her to church services and to meet his congregation. Tracy thanked him profusely for his kindness and told him she had work to do now. But she’d be in touch. She had to say that in order for him go.
After the pastor left, the rain kept falling and the delicious smell of moist grass filled the air, relaxing Tracy. The sound of the rain also soothed her and helped her think clearly. The interview with the pastor had been unsettling. She was sorry soon after she’d told him about her mother, but something in his manner had forced her to speak.
Tracy went over their strange conversation. Many things about it struck her, but particularly his comments about finding the good in everyone. That was his job, of course, but the idea of it jarred Tracy. As she sat there dwelling upon it, she thought of the patients she’d worked with at the hospital for the criminally insane. It was true that many of them were likeable and seemed to have good in them. They could be kind to each other, and to her as well. That had always troubled and confused her. She’d even written papers and given talks on the many elements that made up the human psyche. As a forensic psychologist she was always asked to make a clear-cut diagnosis and that bothered her. The diagnosis itself imprisoned the patient in a category they had no way of getting out of. It limited law enforcement as well.
In the distance Tracy heard thunder rumble, preparing to hit. She knew she should get up and go back to the office before it became hard to walk in the storm. She continued to sit on the bench, however, when the memory of a recent patient came to mind. There had been no diagnosis that fit him really. Staff in the hospital had struggled with it for months. This patient had so many parts to him, one never knew when the next one was about to emerge.
As the first clap of thunder smashed over the river, it hit Tracy like a bolt out of the blue. It was suddenly clear why law enforcement couldn’t find any linkages between the crimes.
Chapter 31
Tracy jumped up from the bench and began running through the rain. She couldn’t wait to get back to the offices to tell everyone what she’d discovered. As she ran she put in a quick call to Hunter.
Just like her patient at the hospital, the killer they were searching for was a multiple personality! The victims he chose, the different kinds of murders, all represented different parts of him. He had more than one personality and a different personality had committed each murder. Tracy broke out into a cold sweat. Oh my God, she thought, why hadn’t she seen it sooner? It wasn’t that they had different killers in each case. It was that the killer was different people at different times!
“I’ve got it. I’ve got it. I know what’s happening,” Tracy, soaking wet, breathed over the phone when Hunter answered.
“What’s the matter? What are you talking about?” Hunter sounded alarmed.
“Gather everyone together and I’ll be in the office in a few minutes.” She was gleeful. If they were hunting for a multiple, that would open new doors and put the case on completely different ground.
*
After drying off from the rain Tracy stood in front of those gathered in Hunter’s office to hear what she had to say. August came in late, and Clay was seated up at front, next to Wanda. All looked eager.
Tracy’s heart pounded with excitement. “We’ve been going round and round in circles,” she started. “We’ve even checked those in the area recently released from jail, or presently incarcerated based upon similar crimes. All our attempts have come to a dead end. Nothing fits.” She paused a moment.
“Okay, we all know this. Go on,” Sgt. Harding was impatient.
“Today I’ve realized something that will put our search on an entirely different basis,” Tracy continued, unrattled. “One important factor has eluded us. This one factor changes everything.”
Wanda grinned at Tracy. “Let’s have it,” she called out.
“The killer we’re after is not a psychopath,” Tracy continued carefully. “He’s not a sadist, or a malignant narcissist, either. There’s a reason some have thought that we were after more than one killer.”
At that, Hunter sat up straighter and stared at her.
“The killer we are after is a multiple personality,” Tracy proclaimed. “He’s someone who naturally camouflages himself.”
“A what?” Clay frowned.
“Oh brother,” August said loudly.
Tracy continued, undaunted. She had to give them a full understanding of what they were dealing with. That would take her conclusion out of the realm of crazy conjecture. It wouldn’t look as though she’d gone off the deep end.
“Please bear with me a few moments and listen to what I have to say. I want to explain this condition thoroughly,” she continued. “Multiple Personality Disorder is now called Dissociative Identity Disorder. This is a condition where memory, awareness, and identity break down. Strange, confusing symptoms result.”
“Let’s be specific,” said Sgt. Harding. “Do these people forget who they are?”
“That’s part of it,” said Tracy.
August jumped in. “Isn’t that amnesia? Doesn’t memory come back?”
“Dissociation is similar to amnesia, but can be far more lethal. It’s a severe condition where a person loses a sense of who they basically are,” Tracy continued. “The person actually splits into different personalities. One personality is not aware of the other. There can be several people living one person’s life.”
“Give me a break,” August called out then.
“Let Tracy talk, give her a chance,” Wanda demanded.
“She’s wasting our time with this kind of stuff,” August’s face was growing red.
Clay intervened calmly. “Tracy deserves to finish her presentation,” he insisted. “What causes this condition, Tracy?”
Tracy plunged onwards. She wanted to explain carefully why she believed this was the person they were searching for. “Most of us have experienced mild dissociation. It’s like daydreaming or getting lost in the moment and forgetting where or who you are. But Dissociative Identity Disorder is far worse than that. Usually, there’s been extreme, repetitive physical, sexual or emotional abuse. The person copes with the trauma by dissociating from it.”
Tracy saw August tossing in his seat, looking up at the ceiling. She went forward anyway.
“The disassociation allows the individual to function. It blocks traumatic memories and emotional pain from awareness. Unfortunately, there’s a terrible price to pay. The disassociation also breaks the connection between the person and him or herself. New personalities form to cope with the stresses of everyday life. One personality doesn’t know the other, or what they’re doing or planning to do. This is truly a case of the enemy that lives within.”
“We’ve descended to this?” August couldn’t stay quiet. “Multiple Personality Disorder is a well-known defense that’s rejected by courts all the time.”
“It’s true, psychologists differ, the diagnosis remains controversial,” Tracy agreed. “Understanding the development of multiple personalities is difficult even for highly trained experts. Some professionals believe it’s an offshoot of Borderline Personality Disorder. Others point out the profound difficulties in coping these patients have. Multiples aren’t able to form trusting emotional relationships with others. You can deny the syndrome all you like, but when you see it in operation, it’s impossible to forget. One personality suddenly turns into the next and forgets who they wer
e a moment ago.” Tracy knew the syndrome well. She remembered the talks she’d given on it. They were now on the tip of her tongue.
“We don’t have time for this,” August interrupted again. “It’s pure conjecture.”
“We must have time,” Tracy continued calmly. “I believe this is what we’re up against here. The different personalities are sometimes referred to as alters. That means Alternate Personality States, or Multiple Personalities.”
“We don’t have time for a lecture either.” August wouldn’t settle down. “How is this related to our case?”
“These different personalities can suddenly take control of a person’s behavior.” Tracy went to the heart of it fast. She knew it would help them spot their killer. “Each alternate personality has distinct traits, personal histories, and ways of thinking and relating to others. An alternate personality might even be of a different gender, have his or her own name, with different mannerisms or preferences.”
“So what?” August was sounding belligerent now.
“The person with Multiple Personality Disorder can switch on a dime. Anything can cause it. Sometimes it’s stress, other times it’s a reminder of their original trauma.”
“Okay, okay,” said Hunter, becoming distressed as well. “What makes you think this is our man, and how does it change the way we search for him?”
“It depends which of his personalities you are searching for,” Tracy proclaimed, feeling triumphant. “We can be talking to someone who seems perfectly fine, and all the while be with the killer. We have to smoke him out, then add to his stress, get him to switch.”
“How?” asked Hunter.
“Patients with this disorder usually take low-level jobs and live in plain view, though below the radar. Sometimes a prominent figure has this disorder as well. They always have complex covers. They know how to hide from others and also themselves. This explains the different victims our killer chose and the different ways he killed them. This explains why there isn’t a single MO or signature. It also begins to answer the question of why he kept the second victim alive so long. Once she was kidnapped, a different personality of his could have appeared, one that wanted to spend time with the victim.”
“I’m sorry.” August rushed to the front of the room then. “I’m not going along with this.”
“Let Tracy finish,” Clay pleaded, looking sad..
“She’s finished, we got it, we’ve heard her point of view,” August insisted.
Wanda was enthralled, though the rest of the faces in the room looked relatively blank.
“We are now searching for one person with multiple personalities,” Tracy repeated. “The surface, visible personality will often be a compliant one. The visible personality may be very kind, and often is. Many times it’s involved in charitable deeds, to make up for the other personalities living within. Remember, though, the visible personality doesn’t run the show forever. The other personalities are lurking in the background, waiting to break through and cause chaos.”
“How exactly do we apply this information to our search?” Wanda asked..
“We have to make this information public, put it out over the news,” said Tracy.
“Ask the public for tips and sightings of someone who is changeable, erratic, and lives a camouflaged life. Tell the public if they know someone like that, someone who changes suddenly, acts very differently from one moment to the next, please let us know immediately.”
“I absolutely refuse to go along with this,” August repeated. “It will make us look even more incompetent than we do already.”
“Tracy is doing her job.” Clay stepped forward. “She’s presenting possible scenarios to explore.”
But August was on a war path now. “Listen, the cases are going cold. We’ve got nothing. That’s unacceptable. If we put this out, we’ll look like idiots. It will make things worse. We’ll open the door to more loonies and crazy leads.”
Hunter stood up then and walked over to Tracy shaking his head. “I can’t help but agree with August,” he said solemnly. “You’ve done a great job, Tracy, but we can’t go along with this suggestion. And right now, it’s enough.”
The room grew silent. Tracy’s breath caught.
“I’ve been discussing our situation with Sergeant Harding and others,” Hunter continued, looking down at his papers. “You’ve given us a great deal of help, and we’re grateful. But for now, we’re taking you off the case.”
Chapter 32
Tracy felt herself go weak. “Off the case? Why?” She was dumbfounded.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Hunter spoke professionally, “you’ve done a great job, gone all out. But right now, you’re also in danger. Your presence has become a liability.”
Tracy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She refused to believe it and threw a quick glance at Clay. “Did you know about this?” she asked him outright.
Clay looked away, sadly. “I disagree with Hunter’s decision,” he assured her.
“So do I,” Wanda chimed in, looking askance as well.
“But we haven’t found the killer,” Tracy said. “You want me to leave like this in the middle?”
“It’s not the middle,” Hunter replied. “Right now, we’re nowhere. The case is actually going cold.”
“This is not your fault, Tracy,” Clay intervened.
“We’re actually telling the press that you’re off the case as of today,” said Hunter.
Tracy felt faint, but would not give in to it.
“They’re doing this to protect you, Tracy,” Wanda piped up. “They don’t want anyone coming after you again.”
“We’re doing what’s right, Tracy.” Hunter took a step closer to her. “That doesn’t mean we haven’t benefited from having you with us.”
“I’m not going,” Tracy answered, suddenly. “Tell the news what you like. You brought me here to do a job and I’m not leaving until it’s done.”
*
After the announcement of Tracy being let go had been made, the meeting dispersed quickly. Wanda rushed over, gave Tracy a warm hug, and said she had to be back in the labs, pronto. Tracy felt as though they were all deserting a sinking ship.
When she looked around she noticed that Clay had stayed behind. “I’ve been assigned to go back to the hotel with you and help you pack,” he said softy.
“That’s kind of you, Clay,” Tracy replied, “but I have no intention of leaving.”
Clay looked at her oddly. “It’s not a matter of choice,” he said.
“Everything is a matter of choice,” said Tracy.
“You’re telling me that you’re staying in the same room that was broken into?” Clay couldn’t believe it.
“I’m telling you I’m on the case,” said Tracy.
“Are you worried that this will make you look bad?” Clay now seemed worried. “Will it affect your job at the college or hospital?”
Tracy hadn’t even given that a passing thought. “I’m worried that the killer will strike again,” she answered vehemently.
“And how will you staying here stop that?” Clay’s voice got louder, almost steely.
“I don’t know, but it will,” answered Tracy.
Clay shook his head kindly then. “We can’t allow it, Tracy.”
“Clay, please.” Tracy grabbed his hands tightly. “Give me at least a few more days.”
“It’s not up to me,” he whispered.
“I’m on the edge of something, I know it,” Tracy insisted.
“You can’t stay here!” Clay persisted. “There won’t be any protection for you here anymore.”
Tracy looked at him strangely. “There’s always protection when you do what’s right.”
Clay backed down. “You spoke to the pastor, didn’t you?”
Tracy realized that Pastor Boyd and law enforcement had been working together. The pastor must have known what they decided, that’s why he told her to go home. He was trying to break it to her slowly
.
“I’m taking a few more days here,” Tracy repeated, “whether you like it or not.”
Clay started to walk away. Then he stopped abruptly. “I’m always here for you, if you need me, Tracy,” he said. “To tell the truth, so is Hunter. He fought this like hell, but he really believed it would be best for you.”
“He was wrong,” Tracy said definitively.
“Maybe he was,” Clay said softly. “It’s not a crime to be wrong. Hunter’s trying hard.”
“He just threw me away publicly,” Tracy responded.
“No,” Clay insisted, “it wasn’t like that. He thanked you, said your work had been valuable. And you have to realize that your presentation didn’t help either. If anything, it confirmed that his decision was right.”
“My findings sounded off the wall?” asked Tracy.
“Maybe a little too much for this point in the investigation,” Clay said slowly. “It was hard to take in.”
“I realize that,” said Tracy, suddenly feeling better about it all.
*
After Clay left, Tracy stood alone in the office, and despite what had been said, felt as though she’d been punched in the gut. Very likely her presentation had been too complicated. It was better suited to psychologists, Tracy realized. She could understand why it might sound like gibberish, or like a desperate attempt to make sense out of a situation that was deteriorating fast. Tracy resolved not to get caught in upset or anger. It would distract her from what she was here to do. She wanted to trace out the multiple personalities of the killer and figure how she could hunt down each one of them. Clay would help if she asked.
Before she did another thing, Tracy decided to call Wess and tell him what had happened. To her delight, she called at the perfect moment, because he actually picked up the phone.
“Wess, it’s Tracy,” she started, emboldened.
“Well, what have I done to deserve the call?” asked Wess. “Is the case over? You found the killer?”
