Nutcase (11 page)

She sighed. “I’m still worried about her.”

“Let’s not automatically assume the worst,” I said, only to remind myself that I had misjudged Ricky and may have done the same with Eddie Franks.

“I’ll be there shortly to start packing your office,” she said before we hung up.

I checked my watch. I still had a few minutes before my next patient arrived. I reached for a legal pad and jotted brief notes about my session with Ricky Perez. No matter what the evidence proved, it was still hard to believe that he was guilty of attacking a priest, especially one who had acted as his mentor.

Mona peeked in. “I checked with missing persons. They don’t have anyone who fits Marie’s description, but they promised to keep an eye out. Are you okay?”

I looked up. “I have a lot on my mind.”

She sat on the sofa. “Have you told Jay about you-know-what?”

“I told him we needed to talk. But I’d rather tell him in person.”

“How do you think he’ll take the news?”

“He’s not going to like it,” I said. “It’s just going to add to the stress of our relationship.” I sighed. “I can’t believe people actually pay me to help them solve their problems when I have so much trouble solving my own.”

“I have a question, and I want you to answer it honestly,” she said.

“Okay,” I said, waiting for the worst.

“Does it bother you that I’m wearing a nurse’s uniform? I mean, I don’t have to wear it to work. I can just wear it around the house.”

I chuckled. “No, it doesn’t bother me. Just be careful if my aunt Lou shows up, because you know how she is. She’ll expect you to treat her vaginitis.”

Mona shuddered. “I don’t even want to
think
of that woman’s vagina. It gave birth to your sicko cousin, Lucifer.”

“Lucien,” I corrected.

“I keep getting his name mixed up because he looks like he should be the gatekeeper in hell.”

I had to agree.

I called the hospital and asked for Edith Wright. I was put on hold. Finally, she picked up.

“Good morning, Edith,” I said. “It’s Kate Holly.”

“I’d planned to call you as soon as I got caught up. It’s been a madhouse this morning. Oops, I probably shouldn’t have used that word. Anyway, your patient hit the skids. She literally crashed overnight, but you learn to expect these things with bipolar patients.”

“How bad is she?”

“If it gets much worse I’ll have to put her on suicide watch.”

“Oh no! Have you spoken with Dr. Glazer?”

“I left a message with that dingbat secretary of his. I had to spell my name three times before she got it. I was tempted to drive over there and slap her silly.”

“I’ll put a call in to Dr. Glazer right now.”

“Thanks,” Edith said. “It’ll be one less thing.”

I dialed Thad’s office and asked to speak to him. From the other end of the line, Bunny gushed. “Oh, Dr. Holly, Thad told me you and your receptionist plan to move in this Friday. We are going to have so much fun!”

“Mona and I are looking forward to it,” I said.

“If you can hold two teeny-weeny seconds, I think Thad is finishing up with a patient.”

Thad picked up a moment later. “I was just thinking about you,” he said. “Are you wearing underwear?”

I ignored him. “Our patient has crashed and burned.”

“Uh-oh.”

I repeated what Edith had told me. “I’ve got a patient due in any minute. As soon as the session ends, I’ll drive over and check on her.”

“You’ve got my cell if you need me.”

 

 

 

Stanley Glick had only been in a couple of times. I liked Stanley because he paid his bill after each visit. His wife, also his business partner in a successful real estate company, had sent him packing after twenty-five years of marriage due to a midlife crisis of his that had come with a seventy-thousand-dollar Mercedes sports car and a blonde half his age.

Stanley had been too busy with his new girlfriend to give much thought to the woman who’d raised his children. That is, until she’d met someone.

“I can’t believe Doris actually invited another man to have dinner at our house and in front of our children,” he said.

“The two of you are divorcing,” I reminded him. “Don’t you think she has a right to move on with her life?”

“She’s only doing it to get back at me. Did I tell you she joined the gym and lost fifteen pounds?”

“I believe you mentioned it.” Stanley and his wife had worked out a schedule to avoid running into each other at their office until they decided what to do with the business. But he’d had to go by a couple of times to pick up a forgotten file or meet with a new client. I suspected he was doing it on purpose. Now Stanley was losing interest in the girlfriend.

“Doris bought a whole new wardrobe,” he said. “She wears tight skirts and low-cut blouses. I don’t know what has come over her.”

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that Stanley Glick was still in love with his wife. I wasn’t sure he was aware of it, but it would be interesting to see how things turned out.

 

 

 

My mother and aunt showed up shortly before ten o’clock with packing supplies. I noticed my aunt was glowing, and I hoped she hadn’t already fallen in love with Eddie Franks.

“Sorry we’re late,” my mother said. “Trixie didn’t arrive home until an hour ago.” She shot my aunt a dark look.

“Guess what Eddie and I did last night?” Aunt Trixie said, grinning like a teenager.

I smiled. “Tell me.”

“We played all-night bowling. And I’m not even tired!”

My mother pursed her lips. “All-night bowling, my foot,” she muttered.

Trixie looked hurt. “What’s wrong with you, Dixie? Why are you so against me having a little fun? Why, they even have senior citizen leagues during the week. You and I—”

“We have a business to run,” my mother said, “or have you forgotten?”

Trixie looked hurt. “Having our own business does not mean we can’t take a little time off to enjoy life.”

While I hoped my mother and aunt weren’t going to get into a long-winded argument, I had to applaud Trixie’s spunk.

My mother ignored her and looked at me. “Where do you want us to start?”

I looked about. “You can begin packing the books in my office,” I said. “I have to go to the hospital.”

My mother looked concerned. “What’s wrong with you?” she said. “Are you ill? You can tell me, you know. If you’re sick you’ll have to move in with us so I can take care of you.”

“I’m seeing a patient, Mom.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake!” she said. “Why didn’t you say so? Why do you have to scare me like that, Kate?”

“You do it to yourself,” I said.

“She’s right, Dixie,” my aunt said. “You’re always jumping to conclusions, and most of the time you’re wrong.”

My mother was clearly insulted. “What do you know? If you had a brain you wouldn’t be out gallivanting all night with some man who has serious psychiatric problems and should probably be locked in a nut ward for the rest of his life.”

Trixie looked at me. Her bottom lip trembled. “Is that true?”

“No. Mr. Franks is as sane as we are.” It wasn’t until after I’d said it that I realized I should have used a better example. Most of my family and friends straddled the line between normal and abnormal. As if to prove that point, Mona came out of the bathroom in her nurse’s uniform.

Trixie and my mother stared openly. “Oh, Mona, when did you become a nurse?” Trixie asked.

I figured it was a good time to slip out.

 

 

 

I found Marie lying on her bed facing the wall. I touched her shoulder. “I hear you’re having a bad day, Marie,” I said. “Is there anything I can do?”

She rolled over and faced me. “My name isn’t Marie, but you already know that. Sometimes, when I experience mania, I hallucinate. As for feeling crappy as hell, I’ve been to the dark side of manic-depressive illness before.”

I couldn’t hide my surprise. She may have been depressed, but she was clearly lucid. “Will you tell me your real name?”

“Elizabeth Tyler Larkin. My husband is Senator John Larkin of Vermont.”

“Wow.” I suddenly realized why she looked familiar to me. I’d seen a photo of her and the senator on the front page of a tabloid some time ago while I was standing in line at the grocery store. I vaguely remembered the caption; something about her husband abusing an employee—the housekeeper, as I recall.

Elizabeth got up from the bed, walked into the bathroom, and splashed water on her face. As my memory was jogged, I also remembered the senator giving a news conference in front of his home where he’d vehemently denied accusations of throwing a glass dish at the woman. Elizabeth had stood beside him but had remained quiet. The news had died down within a few days; the housekeeper had dropped charges and conveniently disappeared. I’d suspected she had been paid off.

Elizabeth returned and sat on the edge of her bed. “I would appreciate it if Dr. Glazer would cut back on the dosage of whatever sedative he has been giving me. I don’t want to be drugged. I’ve spent the last year so doped up I could barely get out of bed.”

“Who was giving you so much medication?”

“A close friend of my husband’s,” she said, “who just happens to be a psychiatrist. I’ve been planning to leave my husband for months, so I began weaning myself off the drugs, unbeknownst to my husband and my doctor. Which explains why I spiraled into mania,” she added.

“What made you choose to come to Atlanta?”

“I contacted my old college roommate. She’s an MD. She has been expecting me. I awoke this morning feeling clearheaded for the first time in days. I called her this morning; she has been frantic with worry and had tried to reach me at home, only to be told that I was ill and couldn’t come to the phone,” she added.

“Are you feeling suicidal, Elizabeth?” I asked.

“No. But I don’t think my depression is all related to my illness. I feel like crap for wasting ten years of my life with an abusive husband. He broke me down, Dr. Holly. I don’t have to tell you what battered wife syndrome is like.”

“He’s the cause of those bruises on your arm?”

“Yes. I asked one of our employees to help me escape. I thought I could trust her. My mistake. I had to wait until the opportunity presented itself. I was already cycling into mania by that time, but I was able to pull myself together long enough to go to the bank and make a substantial withdrawal. I remember paying cash for a used car. I obviously went through the money quickly because I had to sleep in my car. I should never have stopped the medication I was taking for my bipolar illness, but I was so pissed off that I was being drugged. I don’t want to be sedated anymore, Dr. Holly.”

“You understand why Dr. Glazer was forced to give you something, right?” I asked. “You were experiencing serious mania at the time and, like you said, hallucinating. I can ask him to start cutting back on your Vistaril, but I think it’s important that you remain on the mood stabilizer.”

“I have no problem with that.”

“I just have one more question,” I said. “Why were you being drugged?”

“Have you ever heard of Tyler’s Fine Foods?”

“You’re
that
Tyler?”

“Sole owner and CEO,” she said.

Which meant she was worth millions, I realized.

“I think my husband and my doctor hoped to prove me incompetent so my husband could have control of my assets.”

It was a lot to take in. “This is all so remarkable,” I said. Still, her thoughts and speech were logical and coherent. “Do you think your husband will try to find you?”

“Absolutely. Not only for my money but because he fears a scandal.”

She lay back on the bed. I could see the extreme fatigue on her face. Tears glistened in her eyes. Telling me her story had taken a lot out of her.

“Elizabeth?” She looked at me. “I promise I will do everything in my power to protect you. I’m sure I speak for Dr. Glazer as well.”

“Thank you.” She closed her eyes.

I left the unit and walked to my car. I called Thad from my cell phone and told him what I’d learned. He was clearly stunned. “She doesn’t want anyone to know who she is,” I said. “I’m hoping she’ll be stable enough to leave the hospital soon.”

“Shouldn’t Mrs. Larkin be talking to the police?” he said. “Or someone from a women’s shelter?” he added.

“She has a safe place to go, Thad, and she appears to be in her right mind. I don’t think she wants to involve the police.”

“That’s not the point,” he said. “There are people trained to handle this sort of thing. You need to convince her to speak to them.”

“I’ll be in touch,” I said, not wanting to hear a lecture.

 

 

 

My mom and aunt had packed the books in my office as well as my wall pictures and had gone out for a sandwich when Arnie Decker arrived with his father. Arnie was dressed in neat slacks and a dress shirt, minus sequins and polished fingernails. The man beside him was white haired but looked to be in perfect physical condition. His clothes were starched and creased. His face was tight.

Arnie fixed me with a look of sheer terror. “Dr. Holly, I’d like you to meet my father, Colonel Dean Decker.”

“My pleasure, Dr. Holly,” the man said, his voice as stiff as his clothes. His handshake was firm. “You may call me Colonel.”

“I’m Kate,” I said and motioned them toward my office. I invited them to be seated, but neither man made a move until I took my chair. “You’ll have to excuse all the boxes,” I said. “I’m in the process of moving to a new office.”

“I’m clearly at a disadvantage,” the colonel said. “I have absolutely no idea why I’m here. I did not even know Arnold was seeing a therapist.”

Arnie squirmed. I didn’t blame him for being uncomfortable. I was anxious as well.