InSight

banks?”
    “No—yes,” he said in quick succession. “I don’t know. I promised not to tell. My father told me not to and I never did.”
    “You need to tell now, Stewart. It’s the only way we can punish the people who killed him.” She wanted to say the people who killed Macy, but she didn’t want to remind Stewart that he was the one who pulled the trigger.
    Stewart got out of bed and circled the room. Abby heard the pitter-patter of bare feet. He mumbled under his breath, conversing with himself, scolding, cajoling. Then another circle in the other direction.
    “This is hurting my head. Can we stop now?”
    “We’re almost there. A little longer, then I’ll stop. Where did you put the papers?”
    “I don’t know. Stop asking me. I don’t know.”
    Stewart did another turn around the room. When he stopped, everything went quiet. “There was a bank near our apartment in Buckhead ,” he said. “I opened an account and put all the money from the other banks in there. Then I put the papers in a safe deposit box.”
    Adrenaline spiked every nerve in Abby’s body. “But how did you keep it open? You were…away.”
    Stewart paced some more. Abby could almost hear the thoughts filtering into his head. “I didn’t. Jimmy Carlin did. The bank sent the statements to him. He handled everything.”
    She was right. Carlin. That was the name. “Your accountant?”
    “Yes,” he said. Abby heard the pain in his voice. “I can’t. No more, please.”
    “Is Jimmy Carlin’s name on the account?”
    Abby held her breath.
    “Why, no, of course not. The account is in your name,” Stewart said. “Abigael Gallant.”
    The thudding in her chest felt like a bass drum. She settled Stewart and left the room. He’d put everything in her name ― the one person he trusted. Luke was there to take her hand. “The account is in my name. Not Gentry, Gallant.”
    “He can’t do that,” Luke said. “His name would have to be on the account.”
    “Stewart inherited his father’s business smarts.” Abby said. “His mother’s too, I guess. He had me sign a power of attorney. I trusted Stewart. He said sign, I signed. Then he arranged for all the bank statements to be sent to his accountant. This Carlin guy has managed the account for eight years. All in my name.”
    “Goddamn!” Luke said. “I never thought to check your name.”
    “What about the key?” Jeff asked.
    “I doubt he has it,” Luke said. “If he did, they would have taken it.”
    “The accountant probably has one,” Abby said, “but I’d rather not bring anyone else into this.”
    “We’ll need the key to get into that box,” Jeff said.
    “Not necessarily,” Luke said. “I worked a case where a couple had a joint account. The husband kept the key, but when he was murdered, the wife couldn’t find it. The bank drilled the box once she proved who she was. If the box is in Abby’s name, she can get into it.”
    Don Weston left, and Jeff and Luke left to call the bank. Dr. Schell approached Abby. “Do you want me to continue the hypnosis, Dr. Gallant?”
    “No. We found out what we wanted to know. We can let Stewart rest. If you don’t mind my putting you on the spot, Doctor, do you think with the right drugs there’s any hope Stewart might recover? There are times he seems almost normal.”
    “The EEG shows damage, and though he’ll have lucid moments, he’ll never be the person you knew. That’s not to say he can’t lead a productive life, especially where his art is concerned. In fact, that would be excellent therapy. I’m sorry. It’s a tragic story, isn’t it?”
    Abby swallowed the lump in her throat. Don’t break down now. But sorrow over Stewart almost overwhelmed her. “Yes, it is, but I think soon we’ll have enough evidence to put the people who caused Stewart’s destruction behind bars for a long, long time.”
    “Dr. Weston has agreed to allow Stewart to stay until the matter is settled. I think it would be detrimental to send him back where people have harmed him. I said I would also take responsibility.” Dr. Schell moved closer to Abby, his voice a whisper. “Sometimes one must do the right thing, even if it stretches the boundaries. I feel this is one of those times.” He patted Abby’s arm. “Interesting case, my dear. Dr. Weston has promised to keep me informed.”
    Abby paused, turned in the doctor’s direction. “I’m anxious to find out how this all ends too, Doctor.”
    “Dr.