Darkest Edge by Joe Gribble

Author:Joe Gribble [Gribble, Joe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-01-15T22:00:00+00:00

Ellen kept the camera running as they made the brief trek down the hallway to Drexel’s office.

Drexel walked quickly, her heels making rapid tapping sounds against the tile floor. She unlocked the door, then held it open to allow Mark and Ellen enter. Drexel slowed as she stepped around Mark and toward her desk. She stopped and turned, looking at him closely. “Your eyes are very bloodshot. Baggy. You haven’t slept well.”

Mark was taken aback. Was she trying to change the subject? “I’m okay. About your father...”

Dr. Drexel lifted her hands to Mark’s neck.

Mark pulled back, alarmed. It wasn’t the first time a subject of one of his stories had threatened him, but she was a doctor, for crying out loud.

“Easy,” Dr. Drexel said.

Mark relaxed as Dr. Drexel’s soft, warm hands first squeezed the muscles at the base of his neck, then continued to massage his neck and shoulders in her skilled hands.

“Hmmm,” Dr. Drexel said. She released his neck and went around to her desk chair.

At first Mark hadn’t realized he had closed his eyes at her gentle, relaxing manipulation. He opened them quickly when she stopped. Much too soon.

Dr. Drexel waved at the other chairs. “Please. Sit.” As she sat, Dr. Drexel pulled a prescription pad and ink-stamp from her lab coat pocket. “I don’t usually do this without a full exam, but it’s obvious you need something.” She wrote something, then pressed the ink-stamp on it. She tore the prescription from the pad and handed it to Mark. “Should help you sleep.”

Mark reached for the paper, but Dr. Drexel pulled it back before he could take it. “You have to promise me you’ll get that check-up, though.”

“Thanks, and I will,” Mark said.

Drexel gave Mark the prescription.

Mark folded the paper and stuffed it into his pocket. “About your father...”

“Again with the rumors?” Dr. Drexel cut him off. “It sounds like you’d rather rehash old stories than talk about the closing of this great institution.”

“Sorry, but I have to go where the story leads,” Mark said.

“I’m afraid I can’t discuss my father. Particularly anything that resulted in litigation. Lawyers, you know. They have rules.”

“Can you tell me anything about his time here? When did he start?” Mark asked.

“He started as an intern in seventy-two. He spent his entire career here. Retired in two-thousand-seven.”

“A psychologist?” Mark asked.

“Psychiatrist. He specialized in what we now call post-traumatic stress disorder. Back then, it didn’t even have a name.”

“Isn’t that mostly a problem soldiers have?” Mark asked.

“You’ve heard of the Vietnam war?” Drexel answered. “He had no shortage of patients.”

Mark glanced back at Ellen. The light on the camera indicated it was still running. “What about his treatment techniques?” Mark asked Drexel.

Dr. Drexel’s phone beeped. “I can’t discuss my father’s treatments,” she said. She took her phone out of her other lab coat pocket to check it. “His treatments were often ground-breaking, but a bit controversial.” She looked at her phone. “I have to go.”

“They were never approved, were they? His procedures?” Mark asked.

Drexel stood and urged Mark and Ellen toward the office door.

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