He led them down a carpeted hall, then knocked and opened a door. “Detective Dane is here to see you, Josh.”
“Thanks, Reilly,” a male voice responded. “Please show her in.”
Mac followed Stella into the office. Behind a mahogany desk, a leather chair faced a sleek laptop. A tall, lean man rose. About forty and fit, he wore jeans, an Earth Day T-shirt, and trail running shoes. His dark hair was a half inch past needing a cut, and wire-rimmed glasses gave him a nerdy look. He rounded the desk.
Stella introduced Mac. “Mr. Barrett is assisting with my investigation.” Her tone warmed. “I must say, Dr. Randolph, you’re not exactly what I expected. I was expecting someone more . . . formal.”
Was it wrong for Mac to be instantly jealous over the smile Stella gave the doc?
“Formal doesn’t help people relax.” The doctor gestured to a circle of leather chairs in the corner. “Please, call me Josh.”
“The center looks like a mountain lodge.” Mac eased his body into a low-slung seat. He wasn’t sure if fancy digs would have helped or hindered his own recovery. The utilitarian decor of the center he’d attended had made the process feel serious. Rehab was not a vacation.
“I don’t see any reason for people to be uncomfortable while they recover.” Josh removed his glasses and polished the lenses on the hem of his shirt. “People come here voluntarily. They should feel good about their decision to make their lives whole again.”
Mac took in the expensive-looking, modern furniture. “You don’t take insurance, do you?”
Josh shook his head. “No. All my clients pay privately. This is a small facility. I prefer to keep it that way.”
So what motivated the doctor? Money?
“Why do you do this?” Mac asked.
Josh sighed. “When I was a teenager, my older brother died of an overdose. He’d suffered from depression all his life. Drugs were his escape.”
“I can understand that.” The words slipped out of Mac’s mouth before he could stop them, but the doctor’s words had struck a nerve.
The doctor’s gaze was too sharp. Too understanding.
Mac shifted his position in the chair. “You want to prevent others from the same fate.”
“That’s the idea.” Josh smiled.
Stella leaned forward, clasped her hands, and rested her forearms on her knees. “I want to talk to you about Missy Green. She was a patient of yours?”
“Yes. I was sorry to hear of her death.” Josh replaced his glasses. “How can I help you?”
Stella tilted her head. “You treated Missy for addiction, but she was recovered, right?”
“Yes, but addiction doesn’t end when someone checks out of this facility,” Josh said. “The first step toward recovery is committing to a life-long treatment plan.”
“Did Missy ever relapse?” Stella asked.
“A few times.” Josh crossed his ankle over his knee. “But most patients will relapse at some point. Recovery tends to be a forward-and-back process. There are inevitable stumbling blocks on every patient’s road.”
Stella’s lips thinned. “That doesn’t sound promising.”
“It’s important that the patient not view a relapse as failure but as an experience he or she can learn and grow from.” Josh rested his hand on his calf. “Building self-esteem is an important part of controlling addiction.”
She leaned forward. “Most people would say why not let them destroy themselves.”
“That’s not an option. Addiction doesn’t only hurt the user,” Josh said.
Which was why Mac had devoted his life to stopping drugs before they hit US soil.
“When was the last time you saw Missy?” Stella asked.
“I saw Missy just a few weeks ago, and she seemed to be using her coping mechanisms well. She’d borrowed money for her treatment. During our last session, she decided that once she finished paying her debt, she was going to attend community college. This was the first time she’d looked that far ahead in her life. I thought the new direction was promising.”
“What about cutting?” Stella asked.
“Missy had a period of self-harm when she first came home from California. We dealt with it during her stay. As far as I know, she hadn’t done it since.”
Stella took a small tablet from her purse and made a note. “You saw Missy here after her inpatient program was finished?”
“No. Missy didn’t want to borrow more money, I run a few therapy groups for local charities.” Josh glanced at Mac. “I’m not completely materialistic.”
A knock sounded on his door, and Reilly opened it. “Your next patient is here.”