Shifting
just a little in his chair, Inspector Fletcher smiles and begins to direct his
questions to Marsha Kovacs. Before beginning
his questioning he cannot help but notice that she does not appear to be as
calm and collected as her cooperative husband.
He notices the tiny beads of perspiration on her forehead, the trembling
of her bottom lip and he also notices that she does her best to escape eye contact
whenever he speaks to her.
“Just
a few questions for you now, Mrs. Kovacs, if you don’t mind.”
He
accepts her silence as acquiescence.
“I
understand you are a psychotherapist?”
“Yes,
I am.”
“And
where is your professional office located?”
“Downstairs. My office is here at home in the basement.”
“Oh,
I see. Well, that must be very nice for
you not having to travel to work.”
“Yes.”
“Mrs.
Kovacs, who are your clients?”
“I’m
not at liberty to divulge that information, I’m sorry.”
“Let
me put my question to you this way then. Perhaps it will make things easier for
you. I have been informed that you draw
your client base from three sources; the first being the Prison Board, the
second being the Drug and Alcohol Rehabilitation Centre and the third being the
Welfare Department. Am I correct in my
understanding?”
“Yes.”
“What
I would like from you, Mrs. Kovacs, is a list of your clients’ names and their
contact information.”
“No,
I’m sorry. I have therapist/client confidentiality
to take into consideration. I cannot
give you that information.”
“I
understand. In that case I will need to
return at a later time with a search warrant.”
Inspector
Fletcher cannot help but notice that the sweat beads on the forehead of Marsha
Kovacs are turning into little rivulets which she swipes at with her hand. Her lips quiver when she speaks; both lips,
not just the bottom one. Yes, he can see
that her uneasiness is increasing the more she is questioned. Still he continues.
“Do
you and your husband have any children, Mrs. Kovacs?”
“No.”
“Do
you like children?”
“Yes, of course I like children.”
Dr.
Kovacs interjected, “Inspector, what does my wife’s liking of children have to
do with the missing Donnelly girl?”
“Do
you like children, Dr. Kovacs?”
“What?”
he responds. “Yes, of course I do. We
both like children. We just were not
blessed with any of our own, that’s all.”
“Mrs.
Kovacs, how do you feel about not having any child of your own?”
He
accepts her blank stare as her answer.
“Mrs.
Kovacs, have you ever considered the idea of borrowing someone else’s child?”
Crabapple Court is a novella available in both Kindle and Paperback format. It is available on all Amazon sites.
Visit my author[s page at http://www.amazon.com/author/audreyaustin
Cover design by Susan Ruby K.
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