Page 33 of Dark Shadows
“For what?”
“He thinks Dr. Lawrence can help with the symbol. The sheriff said he’s seen it before but couldn’t remember where. Dr. Lawrence runs the local historical society. He might recognize the symbol carved into the chair.”
“Of course. Why didn’t I think of that?” Savanah asked as they followed Jacob into the next interview room.
Dr. Lawrence sat at the table. His silver-rimmed glasses were perched on his nose. His salt-and-pepper hair was neatly combed, and his tweed jacket gave him more of a college professor look than that of a small-town psychiatrist. He looked more academic than clinical.
“Agent Spencer,” Lawrence said with a smile. “Just who I hoped to see.”
He adjusted his glasses and tapped the crime scene photo of the symbol on Jacob’s tablet. “This symbol isn’t random. It’s tiedto local history. I’ve seen it before in the archives at the historical society.”
“So you’re also the town historian.”
“He runs the place,” Savanah said quietly. “I grew up with his kids.”
Lawrence’s eyes softened. “You spent more time at our house than your own.”
“Tina was my best friend. We had sleepovers.” Those were some of the only times Savanah had felt safe and been free to really be herself.
“She still talks about you,” Lawrence said. “You should give her a call.”
Savanah's expression softened momentarily. “Might be awkward after disappearing for a decade. 'Hey, Tina, sorry I ghosted you. Funny choice of words, right?’”
Mason noticed the hint of genuine regret beneath her attempt at humor. The connection to her former best friend was clearly something she still valued, despite the distance.
“Tell her I'm just in town for the celebrity ghost tour,” she added with a small smile. “Limited engagement only.”
Mason refocused. “What can you tell us about the symbol?”
Lawrence glanced up at the red light on the video camera. “This might be better discussed in private.”
Mason narrowed his eyes. “This is supposed to be the most secure building in town. Why hesitate now?”
“In a town where everyone knows what you had for breakfast before you do, even police station walls have ears.” Savanah crossed her arms over her chest.
Lawrence hesitated. “There's a line I have to walk with regards to patient confidentiality, and the people around here like to know everyone's secrets.”
“Fine. Where would you feel more comfortable talking?” Mason asked, sensing Savanah's familiarity with the town's dynamics.
“My office.”
Mason’s phone buzzed. He checked the screen. A text from Cree.
Be careful. Not everyone who offers help should be trusted.
Mason shoved his phone into his pocket. “Okay, we’ll continue this conversation at your office.”
He reached the door then paused. “And Dr. Lawrence? If you’re holding back anything that could help this investigation...”
“I wouldn't,” Lawrence said with a solemn nod. “But, Agent Spencer, I've been here a long time. Everyone in this town has secrets. It's just a matter of how deeply they're buried.”
“Six feet wasn't deep enough,” Savanah quipped, her eyes twinkling. “The dead around here are worse gossips than the living. Too bad they're giving me the cold shoulder. We could've solved this with one cemetery visit instead of all this detective work.”
Mason caught the flash of genuine amusement crossing Lawrence's face. Whatever tension had existed between the psychiatrist and Savanah in the past, her irreverent humor seemed to cut through it.
Mason stepped into the hallway, his thoughts spinning. Beverly had felt watched, and now symbols linked to local history.
Dr. Lawrence got sidetracked and stopped to talk to one of the local cops.
