Deadly Deception - By Andrea Johnson Beck Page 0,1

since college and I know when you are lying!”

“I had an appointment with Dr. Lindsey and, before you even start white-couching me, I am perfectly fine, okay?”

Anne snatched her phone back, throwing it into her purse and eyeing Casey’s reaction.

“I promise I won’t, but I’m just worried about you. I don’t buy into all this hypnosis crap and your stopping your anxiety medication makes me nervous,” Casey said, brushing her flaxen bangs to the side.

“I know you hate that I stopped taking my medication but I feel so much better, freer of all those self-loathing emotions. Adam deserves a fiancé that doesn’t need to take a pill to bury all that unnecessary baggage.”

“You shouldn’t have to bury anything. What happened was not your fault.”

A brief flash of sorrow circled Anne, as her best friend was giving her the same look that she had the day she confirmed there had been two deaths.

“Enough of this, let’s talk about this.” Anne beamed as she held up her brand-new stunning accessory. Casey grabbed her hand to examine the rock.

“Gorgeous darling!” She said in her best British accent.

They entered their office in a lighter mood. Their assistant Shelly sat prepping moss green patient folders while twirling a piece of loose white hair that had fallen from her bun. Anne and Casey chimed a good morning greeting in unison which made all three of them laugh.

“Good morning. Here are your messages. Dr. Jamison, I have a package here for

you. It was next to the door when I arrived.”

Shelly passed the large manila envelope to Anne over the chest-high ledge. Anne examined the envelope, carefully trying to locate some clues of its sender. In bold black on the front, it read:

Dr. Jamison

Confidential

She could feel rectangular contents inside as they slid under her curious fingertips.

“It’s probably from someone in the building.”

She found the package odd but was not alarmed. She tucked the mystery envelope under her arm and headed to her office. She read the name plate on the door.

“Dr. Anne Jamison - soon to be Dr. Anne Whitney,” Anne whispered, running her fingers along the indented gold letters.

She stepped in to her space, putting all the contents that were in her arms on the lavender plush couch. Anne was one of the youngest neuropsychiatric doctors in Minnesota. She was dubbed the female Doogie Howser M.D. in the psychiatric world. All Anne ever wanted to do was fix her mother, fix her insanity – but she was too late. She shook the grim memories and looked over at her black and white canvas prints of Stone Arch Bridge and Cowles Conservatory against the exposed brick wall. She took in a cleansing breath and let it go. She was now ready to psycho-analyze the adolescents of the city.

***

Anne finished her session with thirteen-year-old Alice Harper and began vocalizing her notes to a mini recorder.

“Alice is bipolar and has been on and off various medications over the years. She is the perfect candidate for the Mayo Clinic’s brain study on genetic factors of mental disorders. Can they be suppressed with direct injection of medication to the brain tissue?”

Anne thought of her mother once again; she would have been an ideal candidate as well. She dismissed it and then realized that her phone was still on silent.

“Crap!”

Anne retrieved her phone from her purse that still sat on the couch. Besides the missed calls and texts from Casey, there were five new ones from Adam.

Good morning babe. I missed you.

Why did you leave so early?

Anne blushed at the memory of her behavior as she snuck out of Adam’s townhome like a wham bam thank you ma’am.

Are you ignoring me?

Is this about last Friday night?

You aren’t answering your phone so I called your

office and Shelly said you are with a patient. At

least I know you are alive. Please call me.

I love you Anne.

Quickly Anne tapped his name in her contacts.

“Anne, are you all right?” Adam asked after answering on the first ring.

“I’m fine. I’m sorry, I forgot that my phone was on silent,” she replied.

“I was worried that you were panicking about our engagement.” His voice was slightly heightened.

“No. Absolutely not. I wouldn’t have said yes if I wasn’t one hundred percent certain. I love you, Adam,” Anne replied reassuringly.

“Why did you leave so early? You didn’t even say good bye.” Adam was wounded by her disappearing act; she could hear it in his voice.

“I had a new patient this morning and I wanted to go over her chart, plus, you looked