Psychopath by Keith Ablow Read Free Book Online

never know," she said.  "There’s a touch of character already."
    "I’ve had it since residency," Jonah said.
    "Where did you train?" she asked.
    "New York," he said.
    "Don’t make me work so hard.  Which hospital?"
    "Columbia Presbyterian."
    "Impressive."
    "And you?"
    "Mass General, in Boston."
    "Very impressive," Jonah said.
    "Not really," Jenkins said.  "I was all the diversity they needed, in one tidy package.  I’m sure I was the only half-Latino, half-Asian woman who applied for a residency there.  Being from Colorado couldn’t have hurt, either."
    "You’re a long way from home," Jonah said.
    "I followed a ski instructor," Jenkins said.  "He turned into my husband.  It was all downhill from there."
    Jonah laughed.  "Still together?"
    "Divorced," she said. "Eleven months ago."
    "May I ask how long you were married?"
    "You can ask me anything," Jenkins said.  Her amber eyes held Jonah’s as she sat down in the chair opposite his desk.  "Five years.  Somewhere between twenty-five and thirty mistresses.  I lost track.  Women still call looking for him."
    "I see," Jonah said.  Jenkins was a woman scorned.  He glanced at the diamond on her middle finger.  Nothing she had said explained it.
    "Not from him," Jenkins said, still looking at Jonah as she ran her thumb over the stone.  "My mother’s.  She died when I was a teenager."
    Death.  Again.  The one constant.  The funereal melody playing in back of all life’s happy-go-lucky scores.  "I’m sorry to hear that," Jonah said.
    Jenkins shrugged.  "We didn’t get along," she said.  "I went through real growing pains as an adolescent.  We were constantly at each other’s throats.  As it turned out, we didn’t have time to work through it."
    Jonah tilted his head and studied Jenkins.  Even for a psychiatrist, she seemed especially open, ready to divulge a great deal about herself.
    "So what’s with the pickup line in front of my boss?" she asked.  " ’Rescue me if you see me going down in flames.’  Not very subtle."
    "I didn’t mean it as a pickup line," Jonah told her.
    "Then you must really want to pick me up," Jenkins said, "if that message came directly from your unconscious."
    It had come directly from Jonah’s unconscious.  He did feel something for Jenkins.  "You’re a good psychiatrist," he said.
    "Sometimes I think so," she said.  "Then I see someone do something like I saw you do today with Benjamin at the case conference.  And I realize I have a lot to learn."
    "Beginner’s luck," Jonah said.
    "Sure."  Jenkins stood up, caught her lower lip between her teeth.  "So here goes.  If you don’t have plans this weekend, I could give you the grand tour of Canaan."
    Jonah said nothing.
    "We won’t need more than a night," Jenkins said.  "There’s one decent restaurant and one discount movie theater."
    Jonah felt a pang of regret.  Jenkins was beautiful and kind and perceptive, and he might have liked listening more to her, even touching her.  She had the lithe, dancer’s build he preferred in women.  Small breasts, slender waist, narrow hips, long legs.  But ever since taking his first life he had resolved to keep to himself, until he could keep himself in control.  He didn’t need anyone getting close enough to see the darkness inside him.  To penetrate a woman was to become penetrable to that woman.  "Another time," he said.  "I look forward to exploring new places myself — at least at first.  It’s part of what I like about locum tenens work."
    "Being alone," Jenkins said, with no ill will.
    "Maybe so," Jonah said.
    She shrugged, took two steps back toward the door.  "You’re an interesting case," she said.  She started to walk out, but turned back to Jonah.  "You might like to know," she said, "Paul did get that MRI on Benjamin."
    "Oh?" Jonah said.
    "Glioblastoma, like you said — right where you said it would be."
    "Early enough?" he asked.
    "Maybe," Jenkins said.  "Paul has a neurosurgeon and