Ingrams & Assoc 3: American Life 02

She was even wearing beige tinted makeup, which just made her look even more bland and boring. But it was necessary, for the meeting she was having today.

She arrived at Marianne Dubowski's office at precisely eleven a.m. She'd been surprised and then not surprised at how easily she'd found Marianne Dubowski's practice. One Google search and there she was. Still practicing as well, though she was well into her sixties now.

Then it had been a simple matter of calling, making an appointment, being given a cancellation, and here she was.

April still wasn't sure how she was going to handle this, straight up or with a story – she decided to make that decision once she'd met the therapist and had time to size her up.

She sat in the waiting room, reading a three-month-old copy of People, waiting for her appointment to start. Judging by the lingering scent of paint, April guessed that these were new quarters for Marianne's practice.

At eleven precisely, the large soundproofed door to Mariannes office opened and a wizened older lady, with too much makeup, leaned out.

"April Carlisle?" she called.

April got up, smoothed down her skirt and nodded at the face poking out of the door.

"Come on in, dear. Lets get a look at you. Sit anywhere."

April took in the office. It was very well designed and furnished. Recessed indirect lighting, neutral to dark walls, comfortable seating. A desk but there were three different seating arrangements, and in the corner there was a play area set up. That indicated that Marianne offered child therapy services too.

She noted that Marianne stayed in the doorway. That way, April would have to make the seating decision and Marianne would just follow and sit with her. Clever. April went and sat behind the desk, in the large charge designed for Marianne.

Marianne raised an eyebrow, but sat in the easy chair across the desk.

"How can I help you, Ms. Carlisle? You obviously aren't here for marital dysfunction, as you said on the phone."

"Ms.?" Asked April.

"No ring, no shadow of a ring indentation on that finger, plus you have a slight tan and it's all over that finger – no white where a ring would be. You come in here, no hesitation, sit down in my chair, which is a direct challenge to my authority here. I can accept that, but it's not the actions of a woman who is either upset or looking for absolution. I don't quite know why you are here, but I'm sure you'll tell me, or you wouldn't be here in the first place. So yes, Ms. Carlisle. Seemed safest."

April smiled broadly at Marianne, enjoying this. So nice to meet such a smart woman. "Oh you'll do. You'll do for sure. You got more?"

Marianne sat back and said, "Oh, it's show and tell time? Time to make the therapist dance? Very well. Lets see. The ensemble you are wearing is very calculated. All neutral colors, but obviously business attire, so you are demonstrating you are a professional. Or at least, that's the image you want to display. Which means you know what professional looks like, even if you aren't one. More than likely you are though. Who buys those clothes and never wears them, apart from a con artist. You could be one of those, but what would you want here? Then there's the attitude. You call and say you are having marital dysfunction, yet you march in here like you own the place. And lastly, you are having your own private laugh behind those eyes when you ask me 'is there more'. This is a game to you. Very well, I will play it. For now. It's your money for the session. Is that enough?"

April took a deep breath, got up and moved from the seat and sat on the couch.

"Very much so. Thank you, Marianne. I needed to see who you were and what I was dealing with here. I apologize of the blatant challenge. It was rude, but necessary."

Marianne didn't move chairs, she just swiveled the one she was sitting in round. She said nothing for a moment while she studied April.

"You are an investigator. No, you're more than that. You are trained. You looked around this room when you came in like you were looking for things. You've been trained in checking out a room. And in mind games. Not FBI – they don't hide things. They are right out in the open with them. No imagination. CIA? Possibly, but what could you possibly want here? I don't have any high profile clients right now. NSA? No, I know all the in-house psychologists at the NSA here in town. Hell, I've treated two of them myself. Hmm, probably shouldn't have said that. So, who are you with?"

April was not at all happy with the way this conversation was going. She was about to say something when Marianne snapped her fingers.

"Oh! Smart attire that obviously isn't normal, arrogant attitude, smart, playing head game – you're one of Ingrams' people."

There was a stunned silence. April had never been made in the three-plus years she'd worked at Ingrams by anyone that she didn't want to. It had never even come close. And this woman had done it within five minutes of her being in the same room. What's more, Ingrams & Associates was a somewhat secret group. They had no website, no formal declaration of what they did. Only those who would have a use for their services knew who they were, and Marianne Dubowski, perceptive as she was, was not one of those people. The most important thing right now though, was not to confirm.

"Oh, you'll never admit it. But you are. I can see the micro expressions in your face. Shock, determination to not show it, decision on a course to distract questions. It's all there, dear. You are good though, I have to say it. But you aren't the only one to have been around the block. Interesting though. I've never had one of Ingrams' people in my office before. Be very interesting to hypnotize you."

April didn't know what to say. She needed this woman's information, but she couldn't just come out and say what she did.

"I cannot confirm or deny anything you just said. I can't. You know I can't. But whatever you think, I do need your help."

Marianne just waved her off and got up out of the swivel chair and sat in another of the easy chairs in front of April.

"You know I can't break patient-therapist confidentially. You know that."

"Well, in this case you might. It is about one of your patients. But he's dead now. So not sure the confidentially still really applies."

Marianne considered for a moment and then said, simply, "Who?"

"Joe Sullivan."

"Well.....shit. Joe eh? How did he go? No, let me guess. Something heroic? Something stupid? Both?"

April decided that since her cover was blown, she might as well go for broke. Plus there was something about this woman she liked.

"He saved my life. At the expense of his own. I never even saw him coming. I was being mugged, one was behind me, with a knife, Joe took him out. He got stabbed for his efforts. He died in my arms."

There was a silence for a moment, then Marianne said, "And I'll bet that make you angry, doesn't it? So angry. You need to find these people and punish them. And you need to do something for Joe. You are in his debt and it needs to be paid, right?"

April went silent and still. Marianne had just cut to the core of her need right now. She would find the men who killed Joe, even if two of them were already in custody. They would pay. And she would find some way to help Joe. That's why she was following every lead, to find out more about him and where he lived. She needed to go there. To be in all the communication with him she could get. And this woman had seen all that in two minutes of conversation. This woman was not someone she wanted to be after all. This woman was dangerous. She could see inside your head. What was worse was that while April understood the clinical definitions of 'being on a mission', she still didn't really understand herself well enough to know why she felt this way. Why she had to do this, she only understood that she did have to do this.

And then Marianne proved that, by saying, "And now you are terrified I can see inside your head. It's ok, April, is it? I've seen this before, more than once. You aren't the first. And what's more, if you stopped to think about it for more than ten minutes without the emotion coming on, you'd understand why."

April just stared at her, and said, unwillingly, "Suppose you tell me anyway?"

Marianne sighed and said, "I had hoped you might be further along. Ok then, so be it. You are a control freak, April. Everything planned, everything executed, and you are usually the smartest person in the room. Certainly the one with the most secrets and the best at manipulation.

"You are also extremely arrogant, which comes with the set of abilities you have and the uses to which you put them. How can you not be? You are the puppet master and everyone else dances to your tune. But in this, there is no situation to be controlled. It's already happened, it's happened outside of your control and that's just something that neither your training nor your personality can take. Yes, your personality," she said. April, shocked, opened her mouth to say something, but Marianne continued, "Why do you think Ingrams picked you in the first place? They picked you because you are already what they needed. You already had that personality in place. They just had to teach you how to use those traits to their advantage.

"Be that as it may, to return to the issue at hand, someone died for you. And without your knowledge or intervention. Just a selfless act – it was selfless, right? You didn't know Joe, you weren't sleeping with him and he wasn't a target?"

April shook her head, trembling. This woman was taking her apart, piece by piece, showing her who she was and it wasn't pretty. April was smart and knew that this was potentially who she was at heart, but she'd done a great job of burying that beneath platitudes about wanting to help people. Oh, the platitudes were real enough, but it didn't really cover her own deep needs and desires. And that scared her. So she ignored them, because what else could you do in that situation?

"Right, ok, so someone you don't know sacrifices himself for you. How would you imagine you would react? Someone is going to pay. And you'll find them. That's what you do. Normally you put people together again, but you can't do that without knowing how to take them apart in the first place, right? You have a fearsome skill set, April. Has it never occurred to you that those skills can be applied in reverse? Just like doctors can cure diseases, they can also generate them as well. I think you need to worry about what your response is going to be when you find these people. And anyone else you think needs a little retribution along the way."

That last one stung. April had already started to make plans about doing something about Mark and Penny Glasso, dependent on what the DNA lab reported to her. And it wasn't pretty.

"Look April, I don't know what you want from me, but I can tell you this. I think you need support and help. And I'm here for you. And when you've calmed down a bit, you'll understand that too. Until then, I'm afraid of what you might do. You sit there, looking all perky and in control, but you aren't, are you?"

April just stared back at her.

"Yeah, I thought so. Burying the anger in work. Classic. Of course you can't see that yet, but you will. But you didn't come here to be analyzed, did you? You wanted something else."

April again, didn't say anything, she just looked pensive.

"Ah, Joe. Right. You want to find out about Joe."

April bit her lip. It was nice to be in control again. The last part was pure acting, so Marianne would think it was her idea to spill on Joe. And she was falling for it.

"Very good. You really are very good at this. Make it my idea, eh? My goodness. I don't know what they are putting in the water in that building, but I'd like some here, if you have it."

'Well, so much for that idea,' thought April, miserably.

"Don't pout. It doesn't become you. You need to read up on micro-expressions April. You give yourself away too much. So what is it about Joe you need to know? One professional to another."

"Where did he go? I tracked him to Penny Glasso, but he dropped off the world after that. Is there someone else with him? Where did he live? I need background. I need to know if there is someone waiting for him?"

"Oh, I see. Yes, the Active Knight complex. Well, not sure I can help. He was living at the apartment with the chatty women when I was seeing him. After that dissolved, he moved out and he came here one last time and said we were done. I didn't really try and dissuade him. We'd talked as far as we were going to. There's only so many times you can say 'It's not your fault, you just chose badly' that you just stop when someone isn't hearing you.

"Joe was, at heart, a good guy. A very good guy. He blamed himself for everything that went wrong – from the thing in Kuwait – you knew he was ex-military right? There was an operation there that was quite bloody, he was involved, he tried to do the right thing and got kicked out of the Army for it. The first marriage, to Tara, that ended badly when she traded up. The second marriage, that ended when the scum-bag salesmen he hired made off with his business and his wife. He came here and told me he couldn't afford to come any more and I honestly didn't see how I was going to be able to help him anyway."

"So where did he go?"

"I don't know. I do know that he was involved in something else though. There was an incident, in a town west of here, in West Virginia. Three boys saved in a creek – well, two of them. One died of head trauma. Looks like they were all drunk as skunks, decided to go swimming in the river, using some local rope on a tree thing.

"What I read," Marianne said, "was that three boys got drunk and decided to go in the river. The water was too rapid and too shallow, and they were injured. Joe pulled them out, but one had already died. The locals blamed Joe, and even though he was cleared, you know how things like that stick."

"You're sure that was Joe?"

"I think so. They got the name wrong in the press report. But I'm pretty sure it was him."

"How do you know this?" April asked.

"I set an alert on Google on Joe's tattoo. The kids' description mentioned it, so I got an alert. Really, this is basic 101 stuff April. You guys need better training."

"So, where was this?"

"Some small place, called Shannondale Springs, on the border of West Virginia and Virginia. It's on the Shenadoah River. It's right between Charles Town and Purcellville. I figure he was living out that way somewhere."

April thought about the truck, how it was spattered with mud. You'd get mud near a river.

"Well, it's definitely a place to start. Anything else you can tell me that might help? Anything that you feel ok telling?"

"Dear, I've already told you way more than I should. But yes, there is one person. Have you talked to Tara yet?"

"Tara, that's his first wife, yes?"

"Yes. The one that traded up. Career woman who decided someone else was a better stepping stone to shattering that glass ceiling. She hadn't figured out that the glass ceiling is called that so those men who are underneath get to peek up the skirts of the women who stand on it. The dissolution of that marriage was the reason he started talking to me in the first place."

"No, I've not spoken to her. I found Penny – what a piece of work that one is – but not Tara."

"Well, her name is now Tara Western. Or it was, anyway. If I recall, she got divorced a while back from the new husband. Again Google is your friend. She's not hard to find. On the board of several companies now, so obviously the trade up decision worked out for her. Pity it didn't for Joe. Anyway, go find her. She and Joe were...well they were close. She may well have a clue where he ended up.

"He really loved her – when it all came apart he had real problems trusting. He was just starting to get over that with Penny, when she did the same thing. He honestly believed after that that it was him, that this was his fault some how. You know how men are – they look at statistics and believe whatever they want to believe. He kept saying that two out of two meant it had to be him – he was the only common component. I kept trying to point out that a sample of two means it's almost meaningless in the scheme of things but he just wouldn't see it that way, no matter what I said."

April smiled genuinely, for the first time. She knew exactly what Marianne was talking about.

"In the end, he just wasn't listening any more. There are only so many times you can draw a man's attention to the problem they don't want to confront. He fell on harder times when the company closed down and he used that as an excuse to stop coming. Basically, I let him.

"I'd pointed out everything I could think of, multiple times, and he just wouldn't stop blaming himself, trying to work out what he'd done wrong. He'd come in here every week asking 'was it this she didn't like?' It was just...sad. I'm sure you know what I mean. In the end I was just taking his money for the sake of it. He wasn't going to heal in here, more's the pity.

"He's one of those that got away from me, and I don't like that very much. He had no one else you know. No one to confide in. He was an only child and his parents died while he was in Kuwait, of a car accident. He had some Army buddies, but while they had that Cambridge thing as a connection, he just couldn't go to any of them and talk. They are all spread out and besides, it's a macho military bullshit thing, you know."

There was a pause, and April could hear the tick of the clock on the mantelpiece in the office.

"Can I ask you something, dear?"

April considered. With this woman, one question could lead to her revealing nuclear launch codes. "What?"

"What do you hope to get out of all this? What is driving you?"

April looked at Marianne strangely. What a question to ask.

"Well, he died in my arms. I'm here because he is not. I owe him something. I would have thought that was obvious."

"Yes, I know all that. So do you. But what's the end game here? What resolution are you going for? Are you expecting to find a wife and kids at home that you can help? Get revenge on the man who killed him? What? What is going to put this to bed for you? When are you going to return to regular life?"

April had to consider that one. She'd been in full on investigation mode from the moment Joe had died, and hadn't really considered what the end would be. She just needed to find out more about Joe, to understand him, to find someone she could help, so means to deal with the obligation and guilt she felt. Guilt! That was the first time she'd formed that thought! She was guilty. She'd survived and he had not. She had survivor's guilt!

"I see something just occurred to you. If I was to hazard a guess, you just realized you feel guilty and are driving yourself because you feel compelled to do something. I don't think you have really examined what the end is going to be, have you dear?"

There were suddenly tears in Aprils eyes, unbidden and unwanted.

"I...I just..." April looked imploringly at Marianne who got up and came over and sat on the arm of the chair and gathered April into her.

"Hush there, child. It's ok. It's alright. This is a natural result of the experience you've been through and who you are. It's going to be ok. You just have to get those feelings out there. Nothing you are doing is wrong and it's probably a good thing. Someone needs to follow Joe and know where he has been and what's he's done. It's ok..."

They sat there for five minutes like that, April sobbing for a second and Marianne just holding her tight, making soothing noises. At the end of five minutes, Marianne disengaged and looked at April, who was wiping her eyes and wondering what she looked like now.