Page 2 of Stay Away from Him

[Exhibit A in the matter of Ramsey County v. Thomas Danver : transcripts taken from recordings of therapy sessions between Thomas Danver and Amelia Harkness, Danver’s therapist. The sessions took place over a period of three months following Rose Danver’s disappearance.]

Thomas:

Wait, are you recording this?

Amelia:

Excuse me?

Thomas:

It looked like you were just setting up a recorder in that drawer.

Amelia:

No, just putting my phone away. You have my undivided attention.

Thomas:

Because you know, with what’s happening in my life right now—the investigation, the news vans parked outside my house… If a recording got out, leaked to the press—

Amelia:

I already told you, Thomas. I’m not recording. Besides, I’ve got more reason than you to keep this a secret.

Thomas:

Why?

Amelia:

We’ve talked about this. It’s unethical for a therapist to treat someone they’ve had a prior relationship with. It clouds my judgment. I could lose my license. My reputation.

Thomas:

There’s no law against me talking to a friend about my problems, though. Getting emotional support. Isn’t that supposed to be a good thing? It’s not my fault that you just happen to be a brilliant psychiatrist.

Amelia:

I’m not sure others would see it that way.

Thomas:

I’m sorry. I know it makes you uncomfortable.

I just—I need help, Amelia. And I couldn’t imagine going to someone else, to walk into a room with some stranger and tell them about my problems. Not with my face plastered all over the news.

Who could be objective? What therapist would even agree to see me, with everything that’s being said about me?

Amelia:

I understand. I do. This is an extreme circumstance. That’s why I agreed to these…these meetings.

Thomas:

Besides, I don’t see how you have more to lose than me. I’m accused of murder. I could go to jail.

Amelia:

But I thought you didn’t have anything to hide. Right? Nothing to say in here that could help the case against you. Unless you persuaded me to do this because you wanted to confess to someone.

[pause]

Amelia:

Thomas? That was a joke.

Thomas:

I’m not laughing. I don’t have anything to confess. You know that.

Amelia:

Maybe we should start there, actually. Since that seems to have struck a nerve. You’re telling me—

Thomas:

Amelia, please. You know me. We’ve been friends since college.

Amelia:

Still, I think it would be good for you to say it out loud. To say it in here, with nothing to gain or lose.

Thomas:

I’m not saying it.

Amelia:

Why not? Wouldn’t it feel good to say it without cameras, without reporters, without police, without lawyers—just you and me, in the privacy of these four walls?

[pause]

Thomas:

Not really.

Amelia:

No? Why not?

Thomas:

Because saying it is just a reminder that I have to say it. That my wife is dead. And that half the people in this town think I killed her.

Amelia:

Presumed.

Thomas:

What?

Amelia:

You just said Rose is dead. But she’s only presumed dead.

[pause]

Thomas:

I think we both know she’s dead.

Amelia:

Do we? She’s missing, from what I know. The police think she’s dead—obviously they do, otherwise they wouldn’t be charging you with killing her. But do we really know it’s true? It’s interesting to hear you say she’s dead, with so much certainty in your voice. How do you know?

[pause]

Amelia:

Thomas?

Thomas:

I just know. I can feel it.

Amelia:

That brings us back to the original question, I suppose. If you know Rose is dead, someone might be tempted to wonder—someone who doesn’t know you as well as I do, maybe, but still—to wonder whether you, you…

Thomas:

You’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you?

Amelia:

I think it’s important. For what we’re doing here. To establish, from the outset.

Thomas:

I didn’t kill my wife.