Free Retribution (Sebastian Trilogy Book 3) by Janey Rosen

rudeness. “Well then, let me reassure you that you don’t have to talk to me about anything that makes you feel uncomfortable. We can sit here for an hour and talk about music, the weather, or politics. Sebastian will never know.”
    My eyes widen in surprise. “How much is he paying you for this? ” I ask sarcastically.
    “A great deal. I’m not cheap, Elizabeth. May I call you Elizabeth? ” He’s smiling again.
    “Yes. That’s fine, as it’s my name. ” I cross my arms, growing frustrated at the waste of my time and Sebastian’s money.
    “Thank you. As I was saying, my hourly rate is preposterously high but Sebastian clearly thinks that I’m worth it. ” He pauses, studying my face but I intentionally give nothing away, maintaining a mask of disinterest. “I’m not some charlatan. To give you a little background on my qualifications, I am a Fellow of the Royal College of Physicians and have a Masters in psychology. I’ve worked as a consultant psychiatrist for some years and specialise in bereavement and associated psychological disorders.”
    “Very impressive, ” I huff. “Can you also juggle blindfolded?”
    Ignoring my sarcasm, he continues. “I only tell you this so that you know I am qualified and experienced, Elizabeth, and therefore someone who is consummately professional so that, if you did wish to explore your thoughts with me, you will know that you can trust the confidentiality and impartiality of our discussions.”
    “What you mean is, you won’t tell Sebastian what I say? ” Perhaps I can talk to this stranger. Maybe he can tell me what’s happening to me.
    “That’s correct. Unless you give me permission to do so, nothing you say to me will be disclosed to Sebastian or to anyone else. ” His index finger plays along his top lip as he studies me. “Unless of course you confess to committing murder, in which case I am duty bound to share that information with the relevant authorities. Rather like talking to a priest. ” He chuckles.
    “What if I tell you about a murder that I didn’t commit? ” I ask hesitantly. He doesn’t flinch. “Would you also share that information with the authorities?”
    “That would depend, Elizabeth. Are you going to tell me about a murder? ” His finger stills on his lip, and his eyes lock onto mine. My breath catches. Can I trust him? I have to take that chance.
    “My son and husband were murdered. ” The relief of sharing this burden is indescribable. As tension leaves my body with each word spoken, the knot in my stomach unwinds just a little. I have done the right thing. He will tell the police and they will believe him because he’s a professional doctor.
    “It’s interesting that you use the word murdered . My understanding is that your son and husband lost their lives in a tragic motor accident. ” It’s a statement rather than a question.
    “No. That’s what she wants everyone to think. Poor Joe. Poor Alan. It was a car crash. Wicked Beth’s fault.”
    “Wicked Beth? ” he repeats.
    “Yes. Wicked because of what I did. ”
    “Which was?”
    “Cheated. I cheated on Alan. If I hadn’t cheated on him, he wouldn’t have left me, he wouldn’t have drunk that night, he wouldn’t have hit a tree and he and Joe would be alive today. ” The doctor nods slightly, encouraging me to continue. “That’s not the whole story though, Doctor.”
    “It’s not?”
    “No. It’s not.”
    “Are you comfortable continuing, Elizabeth?”
    “Yes, ” I say. “I have to tell you what she said.”
    “What who said? ” He picks up a pen and notebook and writes something on the page. “Please, don’t mind me, I just take a few notes for my own benefit. You don’t reach fifty-two and have the same memory as a youngster.”
    “You don’t look fifty-two, ” I tell him, genuinely floored by his youthful looks which belie his advancing years.
    “Thank you. ” He smiles. “I look after myself. A healthy body is a healthy mind. I