Private Eyes
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Overview
The voice belongs to a woman, but Dr. Alex Delaware remembers a little girl. It is eleven years since seven-years-old Melissa Dickinson dialed a hospital help line for comfort--and found it in therapy with Alex Delaware. Now the lovely young heiress is desperately calling for psychologist's help once more. Only this time it looks like Melissa's deepest childhood nightmare is really coming true ... Twenty years ago, Gina Dickinson, Melissa's mother, suffered a grisly assault that left the budding actress irreparably scarred and emotionally crippled. Now her acid-wielding assailant is out of prison and back in L.A.--and Melissa is terrified that the monster has returned to hurt Gina again. But before Alex Delaware can even begin to soothe his former patient's fears, Gina, a recluse for twenty, disappears. And now, unless Delaware turns crack detective to uncover the truth, Gina Dickinson will be just one more victim of a cold fury that has already spawned madness--and murder.
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Author Information
Bio of Jonathan Kellerman
Jonathan Kellerman is one of the world's most popular authors. He has brought his expertise as a clinical psychologist to more than thirty bestselling crime novels, including the Alex Delaware series, The Butcher's Theater, Billy Straight, The Conspiracy Club, Twisted,and True Detectives. With his wife, the novelist Faye Kellerman, he co-authored the bestsellers Double Homicide and Capital Crimes. He is the author of numerous essays, short stories, scientific articles, two children's books, and three volumes of psychology, including Savage Spawn: Reflections on Violent Children, as well as the lavishly illustrated With Strings Attached: The Art and Beauty of Vintage Guitars. He has won the Goldwyn, Edgar, and Anthony awards and has been nominated for a Shamus Award. Jonathan and Faye Kellerman live in California and New Mexico. Their four children include the novelist Jesse Kellerman.
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Additional Info
Imprint
Ballantine Books
Filesize
999.43 KB
Number of Pages
560
eBook ISBN
9780345463746
Excerpt from: Private Eyes by Jonathan Kellerman
A therapist's work is never over.
Which isn't to say that patients don't get better.
But the bond forged during locked-door three-quarter hours -- the relationship that develops when private eyes peek into private lives -- can achieve a certain immortality.
Some patients do leave and never return. Some never leave. A good many occupy an ambiguous space in the middle -- throwing out occasional tendrils of reattachment during periods of pride or sorrow.
Predicting who'll fall into which group is an iffy business, no more rational than Vegas or the stock market. After a few years in practice I stopped trying.
So I really wasn't surprised when I came home after a July night-run and learned that Melissa Dickinson had left a message with my service.
First time I'd heard from her in . . . what? It had to be nearly a decade since she'd stopped coming to the office I once maintained in a cold-blooded high-rise on the east end of Beverly Hills.
One of my long-termers.
That alone would have made her stand out in my memory, but there had been so much more. . . .
Child psychology's an ideal job for those who like to feel heroic. Children tend to get better relatively quickly and to need less treatment than adults. Even at the height of my practice it was rare to schedule a patient for more than one session a week. But I started Melissa at three. Because of the extent of her problems. Her unique situation. After eight months we tapered to twice; at year's anniversary, were down to one.
Finally, a month shy of two years, termination.
She left therapy a changed little girl; I allowed myself a bit of self-congratulation but knew better than to wallow in it. Because the family structure that had nurtured her problems had never been altered. Its surface hadn't even been scratched.
Despite that, there'd been no reason to keep her in treatment against her will.
I'm nine years old, Dr. Delaware. I'm ready to handle things on my own.
I sent her out into the world, expecting to hear from her soon. Didn't for several weeks, phoned her and was informed, in polite but firm nine-year-old tones, that she was just fine, thank you, would call me if she needed me.












