Mental Health Services was in a one-story brick building that was curtained off from the main road by a row of trees. It had tinted windows and nondescript signage. Few noticed it when they drove by. Lindsay was on staff at Mental Health Services as a full-time counselor. Tuesdays and Wednesdays, she worked eight-hour days. On Thursdays she worked a twenty-four-hour shift, manning the crisis line. The rest of her time was spent at the shelter. Since the shelter location was a secret, she used this facility to meet with her shelter family members on Mondays and Fridays. The county also allowed her to host her shelter's board of directors' meetings in the main conference room and interview potential shelter staff here on her off days. Today, like every Tuesday, her morning was insanely busy. She had held her regularly scheduled counseling sessions and had also ended up on the phone with her board director, Dana Miller. The conversation had lasted almost a half hour. Keeping her tone positive, she had filled Dana in on everything about the Turner murder investigation.
