My Lost Daughter (52 page)

“That's happening in all the hospitals today,” Mary said. “It's one of the reasons Brooks and I don't want our parents in a nursing home. They need at least one RN to dispense medication, though, particularly the type of drugs they give in mental hospitals.”

Lily hated to burden Mary with her problems, but she had to go back to work soon, and so far, she hadn't accomplished anything. “While she was there, a person who called himself Dr. Morrow laid a line of bullshit on me that you wouldn't believe. He claimed Shana was refusing my calls when he was intentionally keeping her from having any contact with the outside world.”

“You know,” Mary said, setting down the bread she'd been nibbling on. “I've heard of this kind of thing before. They had a huge problem with private psychiatric hospitals in Texas. The attorney general's office went to town and shut most of the worst ones
down. I'm surprised you didn't hear about it. The story was in all the papers.”

“Whitehall is as corrupt as they come,” Lily told her. “All they're interested in is money. Shana said they release people the second their insurance runs out, even if they still need treatment.” She stopped and took a long drink of water, her voice hoarse. “Oh, and Morrow called and told me Shana was in love with one of the patients, which really upset me. She said it wasn't true, that the man was just a friend. Then one of the nurses told her that this man owned part of the hospital and they let him come and go whenever he wanted.”

Everything slammed together in Mary's mind like a train wreck. She'd suspected their UNSUB might have money. She grabbed her purse to find her phone and knocked over her water glass. The waitress rushed over to clean it up. “Where is this hospital located?”

“I don't know the exact address,” Lily told her, “but it is between Palo Alto and San Francisco. All you have to do is Google the name on the Internet and it'll pop up. Remember, that's how I found it. I called the attorney general's office but I haven't heard back. Can you help me? We simply have to put this hospital out of business before what happened to Shana happens to someone else. And then there's the man who died. Even if it was a suicide, the hospital should be held accountable. A mental hospital is where you send someone with suicidal tendencies.”

Mary was like a racehorse waiting for the gates to open. Whitehall was a perfect hiding place for her serial killer, especially if this patient could come and go whenever he wanted. The fact that there was a recent suicide added flame to the fire. Their UNSUB could leave, kill someone, and then disappear back into the hospital. Someone on the team mentioned a Batman cave, and she believed she'd just found it. Maybe the killer even picked up potential victims at the hospital. “Listen,” she said. “I'm going to get some people over to Whitehall right away. I can't guarantee how the cards will play out, but I promise I'll do everything I can.” She glanced across the room
and saw the waitress taking an older couple's order. “All I need is one favor.”

“What?” Lily said, leaning forward over the table. “I'll do anything.”

“Take care of the check. I need to get on this right away. I'll treat next time. Oh, and make sure you give her a nice tip.” Mary got up and dashed out of the restaurant, leaving Lily sitting alone at the table.

 

Her mother had finally picked a good man. Chris was great. His positive outlook and easygoing manner made Shana feel comfortable and relaxed. The beach house was also a winner, and she loved taking long walks on the sand. Her mother had gone out to have lunch with a friend, and Chris was on the golf course. Shana had to fend for herself, so she made a ham and cheese sandwich and took it out on the balcony. After a few bites, she heard the phone ringing inside the house and assumed it was her mother. She left her food on the small table and rushed inside to answer it.

“Shana,” a female voice said. “Do you know who this is?”

Actually she didn't, but the voice had a familiar ring to it. “No, I'm sorry.”

“Karen . . . you know . . . from the hospital.”

“Karen, my God, how are you? It's so sweet of you to call and check on me.”

“I thought you'd want to know. Alex is dead.”

“Alex is dead?” Shana sat down at the kitchen table, reeling in disbelief. “That can't be true, Karen. Are you sure you're not mistaken? He seemed to be in perfect health. When was this supposed to have happened? Was he still at Whitehall?”

“No,” the woman told her. “Right after you left, he checked himself out. He had a brain aneurysm. They found him dead in his car. The aneurysm burst and he died instantly. At least he didn't suffer.” She stopped speaking and coughed. “Did you know he owned a controlling share of the hospital? I was shocked when I heard. I
thought he was just another patient, but he did buy us a lot of extravagant gifts.”

Shana stared at the mirror on the wall across from her. Instead of herself, she saw Alex's face. She tried not to look but her eyes were drawn to the mirror like a magnet. His image was still there, but this time his eyebrows arched in that “I told you so” expression and then he vanished. “I'm sorry, Karen. This is a shock to me, too. When did he die?”

“I don't recall the exact date, but they said it was the day after I was discharged, so I guess he died almost a week ago. He might have died before then and they didn't discover his body right away. Anyway, I wanted to call and let you know as soon as I heard, but I misplaced your phone number.”

“Did you go to the funeral?”

“Yes,” Karen told her. “I spoke with his family. His mother said Alex had known he had the aneurysm for a long time. He didn't know when it would happen, but he knew it would eventually burst and kill him. She said Alex checked into Whitehall because it was a stress-free environment and he thought it might buy him more time.” She paused and then added, “It's sad but I thought you'd want to know.”

“Thanks, I did.”

“Well, I have to go. I'm training for a new job. I got hired at Raytheon. Before he left, Alex paid for a year's worth of my medication. I still bark on occasion, but the profanity has almost stopped. The profanity was what made working impossible. No one wants to listen to that when they're trying to focus on their work. Alex was one of the nicest men I ever knew. I can't believe he's really dead.”

“Take care of yourself, Karen.”

Shana held the receiver in her hand long after the call had ended. Her eyes were glued to the mirror, but all she saw now was her own image. She went to the guest room, where she was staying, and climbed into the bed, rolling over onto her back and staring at the ceiling. She hadn't told Lily about the gift the airline stewardess had handed her while her mother was in the lavatory. She'd been
certain Alex had sent it because it was a single white rose, identical to the one he'd left on her bed the night of the dance. She'd asked the stewardess who'd sent the rose and she'd told her that an unknown individual had left it at the gate under the name of Forrester. At the time, she'd been so mad at Alex that she'd told the stewardess to trash it.

Her mother came home at two, wanting Shana to go shopping with her. She knew she wanted to buy her clothes, but she didn't really need anything. Besides, she'd taken enough of her mother's money. But mothers always thought a girl needed party dresses, heels, and at least one pricey black purse with shoes to match. College kids didn't dress up, but arguing with her mother was pointless. As a prosecutor, Lily had been relentless.

The best news so far was that Lily had managed to get her back into Stanford, but she'd done it by telling the dean about her ordeal at Whitehall. When her mother told her what she'd done, Shana was furious. She didn't want anyone to know she'd been in a mental hospital. The stigma associated with mental illness was awful. Once a person found out you'd spent time in a psychiatric hospital, you could never convince anyone that you weren't crazy. It was similar to being a suspect in a crime. It stuck with you forever, even if you were innocent.

Regardless of how her mother had made it happen, she was thrilled that she could go back to school. Lily had decided to keep her apartment and Shana was looking forward to taking summer classes, hoping to be caught up by fall.

In the Volvo on the way to the mall, Lily turned to her. “You look upset, Shana. Did something happen while I was gone?”

“Someone died.”

Her mother slammed on the brakes. “Who died? Why didn't you tell me? Good lord, it's Marie. I knew she was going to have a heart attack. Did you see her last time?”

“Stop, Mom. Marie didn't die. It was someone from the hospital.”

Lily was relieved. “If your Aunt Marie doesn't lose some of that
weight she's carrying, she's going to drop dead. The last time I saw her, she had to weigh over two hundred pounds.” She thought a few minutes and then asked, “Was it that man?”

“What man?”

“Don't be coy, Shana,” Lily said, turning to look at her. “The man Dr. Morrow said you were in love with.”

“Mom, I've told you ten times, I never told Morrow I was in love with this person. But yes, he was the man who died. His name was Alex and we were friends.”

“How old was this man?”

“In his thirties,” Shana said, gazing out the passenger window. The man in the car beside them glanced over at her and for a minute, she thought it was Alex. All their strange discussions about death made sense now. While she was blaming him for everything, even poor Norman's death, the man was living his last few days on earth. She hadn't even told him good-bye.

When they returned home that evening, Chris gave both of them a hug, then went to the bedroom to watch the news. The house wasn't that large and the way it was designed, there wasn't room for a television in the living room. The bedroom was huge, though, so they had purchased two recliners and mounted a plasma TV on the wall. It worked well for Chris and Lily, but Shana didn't feel right watching television in their bedroom only a few feet from where they had sex. Besides, there were only two chairs, so Chris had to bring one of the chairs from the kitchen. The chairs were contemporary and uncomfortable. Lily offered to buy a television for the guest room, but Shana told her she'd rather catch up on her work than waste time watching television.

The doorbell rang and Lily sent Shana to answer it. A florist's van was parked at the curb and a young delivery man was holding a vase full of white roses. “Give me a minute,” the boy said, handing her the vase. “I have more in the van.”

“Mom!” she shouted. “Come and help me. Someone sent you flowers.”

Once they had carried in all the vases, Lily went to the bedroom
and climbed on Chris's lap. “Oh you . . . you're such a hopeless romantic. You must have spent a fortune on those flowers. There're so many.” She kissed him on the mouth. “Thank you, darling. You're the best.”

Chris was as rigid as a sheet of steel, but Lily failed to notice. She rushed back to the kitchen to decide where to put all the arrangements. There were a total of five vases, all full of white flowers. There were white lilies, white carnations, white tulips, and of course, the two dozen white roses.

As Shana inhaled their delightful fragrance, she remembered the single white rose she'd received on the plane. Maybe Chris had sent it to her mother and the stewardess had accidentally given it to her. It was understandable since they had the same name. It was too bad if Chris had sent it because she was so mad at Alex then, she'd handed it back to the stewardess and told her to toss it.

Chris walked in and stared at Lily. “I didn't send them.”

“What?”

“I didn't send you these flowers, Lily.”

Lily and Shana searched all the vases but there were no cards other than the one from the florist shop. “You're kidding,” Lily said. “Who else would have sent them?”

“I'm not kidding,” Chris said, scowling. “I had nothing whatsoever to do with these flowers. How many times do I have to tell you?”

Shana's heart was doing a tap dance inside her chest. She didn't want to get caught in the middle of an argument. In addition, the flowers were something she could see Alex doing if he was still alive. She grabbed the card with the name of the florist on it and dialed the number. The shop had already closed for the day, so she quietly disconnected.

“Maybe your boyfriend sent them,” Chris said with an angry, jealous tone.

“Look, honey, don't get upset,” Lily told him, holding up a palm. “The florist must have delivered them to the wrong house.” She glanced over at Shana. “Is that who you just called?”

“They're closed for the day.” Shana turned to Chris. “I didn't want to say anything, but I think the flowers were meant for me. There was this guy I met at the hospital. He more or less fixated on me. He sent me a white rose on two occasions, so it makes sense he might have sent me these. I'll call tomorrow morning as soon as the florist opens. Until then, why don't we enjoy them?”

“Is this the man Dr. Morrow mentioned?” Lily asked.

“Yeah,” Shana told her. “I felt abandoned and alone at the hospital so I flirted with him. He was great looking and seemed perfectly normal. Later, I realized there was something wrong with him and ended it.”

“Did you give this man our address?”

“I don't know what I did, Mother,” she said, becoming annoyed. “They pumped me full of drugs, okay? There's no telling what I told him. He won't come knocking on our door, so don't make a big deal out of it.”

Chris jumped in. “How do we know that, Shana? What was wrong with this man? Was he violent?”

Shana was becoming frustrated. “He wasn't violent. He told me his family insisted he go to a mental hospital because he wanted to kill himself. I know he won't come here because he's dead. Now can we stop talking about him?”