My Lost Daughter (51 page)

“I started to call you several times, but I wanted to wait until I had some news.” A broad smile spread across Lily's face. “Pack your things. You're going home.”

Shana felt an infusion of energy and almost choked Lily when she grabbed her around the neck and squeezed her with joy. “How did you manage it? Did the attorney make them release me? What did he find out about the investigation? I have to get in touch with the police as soon as I get out of here. I think I know who killed Norman. If I told you everything now, you wouldn't understand.”

“Well,” Lily said, taking a seat on Shana's bed, “start getting your things together and I'll tell you what happened. You don't need to play detective, Shana.”

“Didn't you hear what I just said? I think I know who killed that
man. Whether you realize it or not, that's not playing detective. A person was murdered.”

“I called an attorney and he suggested I approach the police on my own before bringing him into the picture,” Lily told her, recounting what had transpired at the police station with Lindstrom. “The coroner ruled Norman Richardson's death a suicide. I guess this man set himself on fire in the past, so he has a history of that type of behavior.”

“It was a ruthless, senseless murder,” Shana told her. “The killer knew Norman had tried to kill himself before. It was titillating to him.”

Lily looked lost. “What was titillating?”

“Norman was the perfect victim, don't you see? The killer couldn't resist because he knew he could get away with it, that the medical examiner would call it a suicide. When you die in a mental hospital, it's always suicide.”

“Right now I don't care what it was, Shana. You want to stay here and solve murders, fine. I'm going home.” Lily got up and headed for the door.

“I'm sorry,” Shana said, chasing after her. “You're right. I'll do whatever has to be done when I get home. I'm clear, then? I'm not going to walk out of here and find the police waiting to arrest me?”

“You're clear.”

“Fabulous,” Shana said, smiling. “You did great, Mom. I'm ready to go. The few things I have here are worthless. Did you bring me something to wear?”

“We're about the same size so I thought you could wear something of mine. That's why I brought my suitcase.”

Shana unzipped her mother's bag and pulled out a pair of jeans and a blue sweater, dropping the pajamas on the floor and quickly changing.

“I thought we'd relax tonight at the apartment,” Lily told her, “then we'll catch the first flight out in the morning. That way, you can pick up some of your things to take back to Ventura with you.
I took some vacation time, so we can figure out what to do with the apartment later.”

To Shana's relief, Alex was not in the great room. She made the rounds quickly, saying her good-byes. May came over and hugged her. She'd already written her phone number down on scraps of paper and handed one to both May and Karen. She started to give one to Milton and then decided it wasn't a good idea.

“I'm not leaving, you know,” he said. “They won't let me out. I haven't been sleeping since Norman died and I'm suffering from sleep deprivation. They think I'll exhibit aberrant behavior. They're wrong, you know. They're wrong.”

Shana tried to reach for him, to at least shake his hand, but he took to the walls and began circling.

Peggy stepped from behind the counter and stood there as if she expected Shana to hug her like she had the others. Instead Shana walked up to one side of her bulky frame and gave her a swift and unexpected kick in the ass. Peggy jumped, but with all the padding back there, it was doubtful if she felt any pain. Her face twisted in indignation and then Shana reached over and hugged her. “You're not such a bad egg, Peggy. But if I were you, I wouldn't spank any more patients or you'll be out of a job.”

Peggy just snorted and repositioned herself behind the counter. She placed a piece of paper on the counter and reminded Shana that she couldn't be released until she signed it.

“Look, Mom,” Shana said, handing her the document. “What you're reading is a consent form to treat me with Thorazine. I signed it so Morrow would agree to let me out, but I put the current date at the bottom. Peggy brought a new form back to me, claiming it was destroyed in the copy machine. We danced around with this three or four times, but each time they erased the date I'd inserted. They want to backdate it to the day of my admission.” She stopped speaking and laughed, looking over at Peggy. “My mother is a judge, so I've asked her to represent me. Mother, should I sign this? If I don't, does that mean they can hold me like Peggy over here is implying?”

“Absolutely not,” Lily said, glaring at the heavyset woman. “I wouldn't sign a fucking thing these people give you. Come on, Shana, let's get out of here. I've had about as much as I can stand of this place. See you in court.”

When George lumbered over and unlocked the door, Shana finally stepped through to freedom.

At the curb was a white stretch limo. The driver jumped out and took Lily's small suitcase, placing it in the trunk and then rushing back to hold the door open for her. Shana got inside and leaned back against the plush leather seat. “I can't believe you hired a limo, Mother. You never spend money on things like this.”

“Well,” Lily told her, “today is special. Besides, I was too anxious to drive. I asked for an executive car but they were all taken, so I got this for the same price. I thought you might enjoy a nice ride after everything you've been through.”

“I do,” she said. “It's great.”

Shana vowed to appreciate the woman beside her and the life that stretched ahead of her. Turning in the seat, she watched as the hospital got smaller until it finally disappeared.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 23
VENTURA, CALIFORNIA

Shana had been home a week and things were going well when Lily got a call from Mary Stevens, inviting her to lunch. The former Ventura PD detective was now an FBI agent and was assigned to the Ventura field office. Lily was excited to see her, and had no qualms about leaving Shana home alone.

They had lunch at an Italian restaurant called Giovanni's. Mary looked stunning in a fuchsia silk dress with a scarf tucked in around her neckline so it looked like a blouse. When she leaned over, her cleavage was exposed but not to the point of being distasteful. Once they were seated, she told Lily, “One of the nice things about my new job is I can dress any way I want and there's no one around to report me. Our work is depressing enough as it is. Dressing like an undertaker makes it worse.”

Lily laughed. Not only was Mary smart, she had an upbeat personality. “At least you don't have to battle the PD like the agents before you did. I never understood why the local authorities resent the FBI so much. Can't you get along? You're all working toward the same results.”

“It's territorial, Lily, like one dog pissing in another dog's yard.
The PD knows we have more resources, better training, and a world-class crime lab, so maybe they're afraid we're going to one-up them.”

“Are you and Hank Sawyer still close?”

“Of course,” Mary told her, flagging the waitress over. “The food is great here, but the service sucks.” She ordered linguini with clam sauce and Lily settled for a chicken Caesar salad, along with a bottle of chardonnay.

“Hank and I have a love/hate relationship,” Mary said, placing her napkin in her lap. “The good news is there's a lot more love than hate. He's just mad because I left the PD to become an FBI agent.”

“Was he in love with you?”

“If he was,” she said, “he never did anything about it. I'm glad he didn't, to be honest. Hank's a super guy but he's quite a bit older and he's short. You and I are about the same height, so you should understand. I don't like staring down at a man's head, especially one who's losing their hair like Hank. The picture keeps changing, you know? You go, wait a minute, wasn't there a hair there yesterday?” They both howled with laughter and then Mary picked up where she'd left off. “Hank and I knew too much about each other. Brooks lived in another state until we moved to Ventura. Talk about love at first sight. Whew, this guy blew me right off my feet. Less than eight hours after I met him, I was in bed with him.” She leaned over and whispered, “I had six orgasms the first time we made love. Now that's chemistry.”

Lily laughed again, wondering if Mary would believe her if she told her about the day she and Chris had made love in her office at the courthouse. She was finally beginning to heal from the ordeal with Shana, and being able to laugh again felt wonderful. “I'm glad you're happy, Mary. Finding the right man isn't easy.”

Their orders arrived and they both began eating. Mary stopped twirling her linguini. “Congratulations, Lily, I hear you're engaged to Judge Rendell. Good for you. From what I've heard, Rendell is quite a catch.”

Lily set her fork down on the table. “I'd like to run some things by you if you don't mind.”

“Shoot.”

“My daughter, Shana, was in her last year at Stanford Law when she had some kind of meltdown. She broke up with her boyfriend. She was exhausted from the workload, and to make matters worse, a girl in her apartment complex was raped. You can imagine how traumatic that was with her background.”

Mary stopped eating, her plate already clean. “I'm sorry, Lily. That was a long time ago, though.”

“Sixteen years,” Lily told her. “About a month ago, Shana stopped calling me or taking my calls, so I flew up there to see what was going on. I'm not going to bore you with all the details, but I felt she needed some kind of medication, maybe an antidepressant or a tranquilizer. The poor girl couldn't sleep. She claimed she hadn't slept in weeks and I believed she was exhibiting symptoms of sleep deprivation.” She paused and rubbed her forehead. “I did a stupid thing, Mary. I took her to a mental hospital.”

“What's stupid about that? She needed help. Sleep deprivation can be serious.”

“She was in a hospital named Whitehall that I found on the Internet. I didn't check this place out, which was irresponsible, but I had no intention of having her admitted. I just knew she couldn't get the kind of medicine she needed in an emergency room.”

“You're right about the ER,” Mary said. “An internist might have been able to sedate her. I suffered a terrible bout of insomnia when my father was killed. I turn into a righteous space cadet. I even had hallucinations. The good thing is once you catch up on your sleep, you're fine.”

“I mistakenly thought she could be treated at Whitehall as an outpatient,” Lily continued. “When we got there, they told me they would evaluate her and asked me to wait outside. When I came back, they said Shana was addicted to meth and showed me a naked snapshot of her with oozing sores all over her arms and legs. I was devastated.”

“I can imagine. That stuff is poison. Between meth and crack, people are dying like crazy. But they can't kick a drug like that without help. You did the right thing.”

“Shana had always taken a strong stance against drugs. She may have taken a puff or two of marijuana, but that's nothing. Even I tried it once when I was in high school. Shana's not a kid, Mary. She's twenty-eight.”

“You don't look like you're old enough to have a daughter that age. I'd have pegged you for thirty-five. Anyway, go ahead. I shouldn't interrupt you. I can tell by your face that talking about this is upsetting you.”

“I need your help,” Lily said. “Shana was about to graduate from Stanford so it was hard to believe that she was a drug addict. But photographs don't lie.” She paused, thinking. “Oh, there's another component to this story. For about six months, Shana had gone over her budget. I was always busy when she called, so I just gave her the money.”

“How much money are we talking about?”

“Over a thousand a month. Of course, after seeing the picture, I knew where the extra money went. Then they told me that Shana had signed a voluntary commitment order, and that really blew my mind.”

“I'm so sorry you had to go through this, Lily. How is she now?”

“She's fine, Mary. In fact, she was fine when I took her to Whitehall. The hospital looks like an old Southern mansion. According to Shana, the exterior was a façade. In addition to the hospital, they rented out individual office spaces.” Lily's shoulders rolled forward. “I'm telling you this for a reason. More than the exterior of Whitehall is a façade. They basically kidnapped Shana. I don't know how they created the picture of her with the sores, but I guess you can do anything with a computer.”

“Are you saying she
didn't
have sores?”

“Not one,” Lily said, her mouth compressing into a thin line. “Her skin is fair like mine and if she'd had so much as a pimple, it would have left a mark. Shana's skin is absolutely perfect and she
swore she'd never used meth, nor did she commit herself. They locked her up in a room, then they sent someone in with papers for her to sign, telling her that was the only way they could release her.” She paused and sighed. “Of course, she signed. Anyone would under the circumstances. It only gets worse from here.”

“This is terrible, Lily.”

“You're telling me. They gave her psychotropic drugs and locked her in a padded cell. What they did was torture her.” Lily's face became flushed with anger. “My daughter, Mary, they tortured my daughter! I'd like to wipe that place off the face of the earth, and charge every person who worked there with a dozen felonies.”

“Calm down, Lily,” Mary said, checking the wine bottle and finding it empty. “You can take them down if what you say is true. It's going to take time, though.”

“I'm just so enraged that they could get away with this kind of shit. Listen to this, while Shana was there, one of the patients died and they tried to blame my daughter. The police have ruled the death a suicide, thank God, but I need all the help you can give me. Shana also told me that they were dangerously understaffed and she suspects some of the nurses didn't have credentials.”