RAW EDGES by C.J. Lyons
Chapter 1
DR. NICK CALLAHAN missed his wife. Yet, as lonely as his empty house was with Lucy and their daughter, Megan, gone to visit his parents in Virginia, Nick was glad Lucy wasn’t there. Now, for the fourth morning in a row, he ate his breakfast, showered, dressed, set the newly installed alarm, and drove to his office, a not-so-discreet unmarked police car trailing close behind.
Nothing like a psychopathic serial killer escaped from prison to help put your priorities in order, he thought as he waved to the guard at the VA’s security desk and used his ID badge to gain access through the two sets of locked doors between the main entrance and his office in the counseling center. Usually he’d be working out of his private office on a Friday, but the police—and Lucy—had convinced him to reschedule his patients to the VA, given its greater security.
It was a bit embarrassing, explaining to his clients why they had to drive to the VA for their sessions, but the majority of his patients were military and law enforcement, and to a one, they had understood. Still, he felt silly. No way in hell would Clinton Caine target Nick. Given the manhunt focused here in the Pittsburgh area and the surrounding western Pennsylvania countryside, Caine would have a lot more to keep him occupied than any thoughts of vengeance on family members of the FBI agent who’d caught him.
Nick smiled as he turned the doorknob to his office. It was a private smile usually reserved for his wife, but of course Lucy wasn’t here to see it. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride. She’d caught Caine not once, but twice. The man would have to be a fool to even think of coming after Lucy or targeting her family.
“I need your help,” a woman’s voice greeted him from inside his dark office.
Startled from his private reverie, Nick jumped—and immediately covered it by stumbling to turn the light on, revealing his unexpected guest. Not a woman, a girl.
He knew better than to ask how Morgan Ames had gained access to his supposedly secure office. Morgan had an uncanny ability to be able to go wherever she damned well pleased. Part social engineer extraordinaire, part master hacker, and part cat burglar, the skills served her well when she’d been working with her father, Clinton Caine.
“Is it your father?” Nick asked, dropping his voice until he had the door closed behind him, even though no one else was here yet, not this early on a Friday morning.
Morgan shook her head. She looked miserable.
On the surface, she was dressed like a young executive, someone from a glossy magazine cover. Made up to look like she was in her twenties, even though he knew she was only fifteen—or at least that was the age she’d finally claimed. Who knew what the truth really was when it came to Morgan?
Despite appearing impeccably ready for the world, he saw through her mask effortlessly—another warning sign that things were very, very wrong. Dark circles hid beneath her makeup, and when she stood to begin pacing, her gait was agitated instead of the well-balanced, always ready-to-strike poise she usually exhibited. Gone was her preternatural aura of calm command—an aura that always reminded him of Lucy, truth be known.
“What is it, Morgan?” he asked, using his most reassuring tone.
“I can’t sleep,” she finally admitted. “Haven’t for days.” Restless energy sparked from her as she stalked the room, weaving around his desk, the couch, coffee table, and two chairs. “At first I wasn’t trying to sleep, was busy setting up security measures, watching for Clint, but then, when I tried…” Her voice trailed off with an uncertainty that was alien to the Morgan he knew.
“Can you tell me why? What’s keeping you awake?” Morgan could sleep anywhere, anytime; since she didn’t feel anxiety about the events of the day, there was never anything to keep her awake, worrying like normal people. One of the many reasons why she considered her sociopathy as not a diagnosis of maladjustment but rather a sign of superiority.
“No. Can’t you see? That’s the problem, I can’t explain it.” The words gnashed free from her clenched jaws.
Nick had never seen Morgan like this—usually he had to push to force her to feel any emotions, much less acknowledge them. “You’ve mentioned the mania you sometimes experienced when you participated in your father’s activities.”