Second Honeymoon Part 46

Book Four

The Vows We Make,

the Vows We're Given...

Chapter 71

I REALLY SHOULD'VE called ahead. What was I thinking?

Actually, I knew exactly what I was thinking. Olivia Sinclair was up in Langdale, New York, and I didn't want to risk being told over the phone, "Now's not a good time."

And okay, yes: a small part of me was showing off a bit for the woman sitting shotgun next to me.

"Anytime you want to tell me where we're going, fire away," said Sarah more than once as we were driving north along I-684.

"We'll be there soon enough," I said.

Part guilt, part curiosity, and a slight sense of responsibility had me checking up on Olivia Sinclair since her daughter, Nora, was murdered. Once a year, sometimes twice a year, I'd call the head nurse, Emily Barrows, to see how her most intriguing patient was doing. In a way, that sort of added to the irony of Ned Sinclair wanting to kill me.

"Pine Woods Psychiatric Facility?" asked a puzzled Sarah as we drove by the sign on the way into the parking lot.

I turned to her as I pulled into a s.p.a.ce, cutting the engine. "Pop quiz: What do all serial killers have in common?"

Sarah looked at me blankly.

"They all have a mother," I said.

Her face lit up. Exactly as I'd thought.

From the moment I'd met Special Agent Sarah Brubaker I could tell how laser-focused she was on Ned Sinclair, presumably even more so since she'd been ordered off his trail. That just made her hungrier for a break in the case. Call it human nature. Also call it the reason she was willing to drive with me for more than an hour without knowing where she was going.

It wasn't just your rapier wit and charm, O'Hara.

I led Sarah up to the eighth floor nurses' station, where, sure enough, Emily Barrows was on duty. The last time she and I spoke was the previous summer, but it had been about five years or so since we'd seen each other face-to-face. She looked more tired than I remembered, a bit more run-down.

Time is especially hard on those whose workday is defined as a "s.h.i.+ft."

After introducing Sarah, I apologized to Emily for showing up unannounced. "I was hoping, though, that we could speak with Olivia. She's still down at the end of the hall, right?"

Emily paused, unsure at first how to respond.

"I know, I know," I said. "I'm probably supposed to go through your chief administrator for that request, but we're sort of pressed for time, and-"

"No, it's not that," said Emily. She paused again. "Olivia's no longer here."

"Oh, I see. You mean she was released?"

As I said, I really should've called ahead.

"No," said Emily. "I mean she's dead."

Chapter 72

"HOW?" I ASKED. "When did it happen?"

"Two months ago," answered Emily. "Pancreatic cancer. It took her very fast."

She was about to say something else, but stopped.

"What is it?" I asked. "You were going to say..."

"Nothing, really. I was just remembering what Olivia told me after she was first diagnosed. She said the cancer was from the grief-you know, from her daughter's death. She holds herself responsible."

"She loved Nora very much," I said. I couldn't resist the segue. "Do you remember her ever mentioning that she also had a son?"

Emily thought for a few seconds before shaking her head. "I don't believe so."

I looked over at Sarah, who surely had thoughts of decking me right there in the hallway for taking her on a wild goose chase. To her credit, though, she seemed determined to make the most of it. Or, at the very least, to exhaust every angle.

"Her son's name is Ned," said Sarah. "Maybe that helps."

It didn't. "You have to keep in mind, Olivia barely talked at all for years," said Emily. "It wasn't until after Nora's death that she actually spoke more than a few sentences to me. But it's not like we struck up a friends.h.i.+p."

Sarah listened and nodded, but I could tell she was already a few questions ahead in her mind. "Did Olivia pa.s.s away here?" she asked.

"No. Toward the end she was transferred to a hospice. That's where she died."

"What about her personal effects? Did they go with her to the hospice?"

Emily hesitated. It was as if she was trying to figure out how to answer without lying. I'd seen that hesitation countless times in the course of interrogations. Clearly, so had Sarah. We traded glances.

"Is there something you need to tell us?" asked Sarah.

It was a simple question, but through her tone and inflection my "bad cop" partner had managed to insinuate that Emily's world would come cras.h.i.+ng down like a house of cards were she not to level with us. Pretty d.a.m.n intimidating, actually.

d.i.c.k Cheney could keep his waterboarding kit. I had Sarah Brubaker.

Emily nervously looked left and right to make sure no one else was within earshot. "Wait here," she said. "I'll be right back. Please. Just give me a minute."

She disappeared into the room behind the nurses' station. No more than ten seconds later, she returned with something wrapped in a plastic shopping bag.