Agent Lee was caught off-guard. He stumbled and fell back onto the old couch. A cloud of dust plumed and spread throughout the tiny habitat.

She too fell back. The silver rim of the revolver gleamed. Was that the last light she would see?

Her eyes shut. Boom! Then nothing. No, wait, a buzz maybe. Yes, a buzz in her ears. The singer should have said that what doesn't kill you makes you deaf. Bam! Another shot fired.

Gathering that she must still be alive, she opened her eyes. All she saw was dust. Brown air and it stung her eyes. A flash of light. Bam! Lightning then thunder. The rain was over.

The dust cleared to some degree and she made out the figure of Lee restraining Olman. No one had died. Great, she counted that a success. Soon Olman was restrained and the dust no longer threatened to choke them.

"What the hell man!" Lee said in frustrated exasperation.

Olman looked at the ground in shame. She beckoned Lee to give her space. She took a little creaking stool and sat across from Olman. He had beads of sweat all over his wrinkled forehead.

"We're just here to talk. We can help."

"Help me with what?" was his rusty reply.

"What do you want help with?"

Instead of answering, he turned to face the side. She examined his posture closely. Something about him was off she just couldn't place it.

"I promise you, anything you need help with." she tried again.

"Maybe bring that psycho to justice?"

Following Lee's words, Olman perked up in surprise.

"Really?"

"Well of course." Lee said leaning on the door frame.

"But to do that, we need to ask you a few questions. Is that alright?" she took a hold of his hand.

"Questions about.... him?" she now noticed a lilt in his voice. Something was off about him. He didn't sound at all like before. It was as if he was a different person.

"Could you give us a sec?" without waiting for an answer, she stood up and dragged Lee into the other room.

"What's wrong?" Lee asked as soon as they were in safe whispering range.

"We can't continue interrogating him." she turned to look at Olman playing with a string.

"Why?"

"It's not safe. I think he has multiple personality disorder." Lee gave her a blank stare. "Seriously?"

"I know what it is. I just don't know why that should stop us."

"Coz," she turned to look at Olman again. She didn't like having her back turned to the man who had just tried to kill them. "He's very unstable. So far, Im counting two personalities."

"Shouldn't you know how to deal with psychos?"

"Yeah but in a controlled environment." She began rubbing her ear. Lee noticed and his expression changed.

"I'll be your controlled environment." It was his turn to drag her into the previous room.

She took a seat across from Olman again and Lee stood ready close by. She took out her little recorder and placed it on her lap.

"Do you think you could answer our questions?" she asked in a calm still voice. He relaxed a bit and threw the string away.

"Mmmhhh"

"Can you tell me when you took up the case?"

"Nine!" Olman yelled. Bounding up and down. She remained utterly still.

"Nine?"

"The first investigation was launched in September." Lee answered.

"She's talking to me!" Olman whined.

She noticed his childish behavior. A few years back she had treated an ex-soldier who had suffered a special post traumatic stress disorder.

"Mr. Olman..."

"Don't call me that!"

"Does it make you feel old?"

"Yes. I don't wanna be old!" He whined again.

"Are there bad things that happened when you were..." She threw Lee an eye. "old?"

"Mmmh." He hummed before looking at Lee and pouting.

"Can you tell me what happened?" She pulled his attention.

"They took everything!" His voice waivered. "Everything, everyone, gone! Gone!"

He began rocking back and forth. A most saddening sob came from the poor shell of a man. His head was burried in his arms as he cried out.

"Gone! Gone! Gone!"

"Hey it's okay."

She took him in her arms and they both fell to the floor. Lee left the room to answer a call. She imagined he had already been unsettled.

There in her arms lay a fifty year old who looked like a seventy year old man who thought he was an eight year old boy. He was broken beyond repair. She had never seen anything like it before.

"Could you tell me who did it?"

"William." He sniffed.

******

On the drive back, she could hardly keep her thoughts to herself. There were too many things that didn't make sense. Too many unanswered questions. One of them being whether she could trust Lee and his off -hash attitude towards the case. It looked as if someone didn't want the case closed, but who?

"You're not an ordinary shrink, are you?" Lee's voice drew her back into the car.

"I guess not." she chuckled.

"You're nuts!" they both laughed.

"What did he mean?" she asked after catching a breath.

"Who?" Lee put down his phone and turned to her.

"Olman. What did he mean they took everything?"

"Didn't do your homework as well as you thought, huh?" he took out a lunch bar and started munching on it. She wondered how he managed to remain so unperturbed. "Back at the house, I called a collegue. Apparently three days after William's first arrest, detective Olman's wife died in a crash."

"What?" her hands tightened around the wheel.

"And his daughter, who was also in the car, was never found."

"Do you think William did it?"

"He was in prison. It's scary to think he might have an outside hand."

"Of course, I get it now!"

"What?" he asked with a mouth full.

"The accident must've damaged Olman. I think he's suffering a special kind of PTSD. I dealt with it years ago. The patient suffers a regression back to their childhood as a way to adjust."

"Sounds like him."

"How could William have done it?" Her nails were now digging into her palms.

"Only one person knows the answer to that question. And only one person can find out." Lee said in a tone more serious than she had ever heard leave his lips.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Let me know what you think happened to Olman's family.
Remember to vote if you enjoyed the chapter. It really means a lot when you do.

See you at the next one. 😘