Dark Storm

by Karen Harper

  She saw him with the girls watching TV in the den with that damned doll.

  “Steve, I need to see you for a second,” she said, gesturing to him.

  “They say the storm is worse?” he asked as he followed her into the kitchen.

  “Brace yourself for some good but strange news. Darcy just showed up, and she thinks it’s the day she was taken. She’s lost over a week, and I’m afraid if we tell her anything of the big search for her, it might make it worse. I told her you’re here, and she thinks it’s a surprise for your anniversary. I don’t think she recalls anything of being gone. Steve?”

  His eyes had widened, then narrowed. His jaw hung open. He just stared at Claire.

  “Where—where is she? I have to see her, hold her.”

  “The library, but be careful what you say so—”

  He rushed away. Claire wilted against the wall. Maybe she’d let Steve break it to Jilly. She was starting to shake, felt cold, but how would Darcy feel?

  She exploded in tears, shoulders shaking, sobbing into the palms of her hands. Finally, she calmed herself, grabbed a tissue so the girls wouldn’t see her and think the worst. She ducked into their master bedroom where Nick sat on their bed talking on the phone.

  “No, only Claire has seen her and now Steve. She says Darcy’s out of it, thinks it’s the day she was lost. But you can’t just start to interrogate her, or she might flip out.”

  Still shaking, Claire sank onto the bed beside him and gestured for Nick to give her the phone.

  “Ken, it’s Claire. Maybe she’s been drugged or has a concussion. She doesn’t know she’s been gone. I understand you need to talk to her, but she’s with Steve, and we need to prepare Jilly and Lexi.”

  She listened to his rush of words, then dared to interrupt him. “Yes, I realize she needs a checkup and care, but what will taking her away from us do to her right now?”

  “Claire, if she was imprisoned—mistreated by someone—we have to examine her right away, find out who, hopefully why. Keep her—and Steve—calm because I’m coming over, and we’ll have to have her treated, but I promise you, you can stay with her.”

  “Me? Why not Steve?”

  “I’ll explain. Try to keep her calm—Steve, too—until I get there. We won’t let this hit the media cycle until we have her safely off-limits from them.”

  “But we can get her a doctor.”

  It annoyed her that Nick was not only leaning close to listen, but was shaking his head to that question and mouthing, “No.”

  “Listen to me,” Ken said. “You’ve been around crimes and victims enough to know we need to take her into medical custody right now. She may well have been abducted, abused, violated. It’s a police matter, the law. Ask Nick and keep an eye on Steve because he’s volatile. Keep calm, and I’ll see you soon.”

  She ended the call and handed the phone to Nick. “It’s like—like she has to be committed. He said I could stay with her if I wanted to.”

  “Stay where?”

  “I don’t know. Where she’s treated, taken. A hospital, I guess.”

  “Not Steve with her?”

  “No—I don’t know why. But we’ve got to go tell Jilly, unless Steve wants to. I’ll go find out—see how they are doing. Nick, thank God she’s back, but in a way, she’s not really back at all.”

  Nick held her tight, hopefully just the way Steve was holding Darcy.

  * * *

  Steve had whispered to Claire that she should tell Jilly. Claire took her niece off by herself while Nita stayed with Lexi. Darcy and Steve were still in the library.

  “Honey,” Claire told her, “I have some really happy news, but you are going to have to help your daddy. Your mommy has come back but—”

  “Yay! Where is she? Is she okay? I have to hug her right now!”

  “You will, but the thing is, she doesn’t remember anything about being away. Maybe she hit her head or something—I mean, she is fine—but she somehow forgot she was away for over a week. Can you try not to tell her she’s wrong until we can get a doctor to help her?”

  “You mean, tell her lies?”

  “No. Just agree with her, pretend everything is just like usual and okay.”

  “But isn’t that like telling lies?”

  “We need to have her see a doctor to get straightened out bit by bit.”

  “But where was she? And where is she now?”

  “Right now, in the library, sweetheart, with your daddy. How about you join them there and hug them and celebrate quietly in your own mind and heart. But just agree with things right now until we get her some help. Then, when she’s better, you can tell her everything, and she’ll tell you where she’s been, because I don’t think she even knows right now. Can you do all that to help her and your daddy, too?”

  “I can do anything to help her. It will just be pretend for a while, not a lie, right?”

  “Right,” Claire assured her, and walked her to the library door, hoping to heaven Steve had not ruined Darcy’s fragile facade already.

  * * *

  To Claire’s surprise and annoyance, not only did Ken arrive in a squad car wearing a Collier County police uniform instead of his usual detective civilian look, but he’d brought an ambulance and two other uniformed officers with him.

  “Do you need all this?” she asked him as the three men entered. “She’s hardly going to resist a short hospital stay, and I’ll take you up on your offer to go with her. Nita just went to pack a duffel bag for both of us with my clothes.”

  “How is Steve taking this?” he asked as Nick joined them in the front hall. He, too, frowned at Ken when he saw the officers.

  “He insists he can handle things,” Claire said. “He says he should go with Darcy instead of me. Nick advised him I should go with her, but he’s protesting, says he wants another lawyer.”

  “He’s going to need one. Claire and Nick, sorry to rain on your parade on this happiest of days. I’m ecstatic you have her back physically well, but she will need to be deposed and treated.”

  “We understand that,” Nick said. “Claire will go with her. We appreciate that. But what do you mean Steve needs a lawyer? If he wants one for his own reasons, that’s one thing, but needs?”

  “Just brace yourselves—again. I’m here to arrest Steven Stanley for suspicion of the aggravated murder of Lawrence Ralston. I’ll be able to protect Darcy’s privacy for a few days, but not Steve’s when this gets out. I wanted to warn you in case he protests. There’s been corroborating DNA evidence he was in a physical struggle with Ralston on his boat just before the victim was found drowned.”

  Claire wavered on her feet. Too much. Too much!

  “You can’t—cannot arrest him in front of Darcy,” she insisted. “She knows nothing of this. She’s been through too much—through something.”

  “Then clear the way for me. Get her, and their daughter—if she’s still with them—away from him. It would be best. It’s why I’m telling you all this. Claire, that will mean you will temporarily be legally in charge of your sister, at least until Steve makes bail or is—”

  “I’ll go with him until he gets his own representation,” Nick insisted.

  “Fine by me. Now, I’ll have these officers step aside so you can prepare Darcy to be taken to the North Naples Hospital where a psychiatrist is waiting. She’ll have a thorough checkup there before being interviewed. Your psych background will help, too, I’m sure, Claire.”

  At first, she just stared at Ken, then at Nick. He gave a terse nod and put his arm around her waist. They were both shaking.

  “I need to read Steve his rights,” Ken said. “I hope you’ll continue to help me—help them—as you have these last eight days, for everyone’s sake.”

  Claire wiped tears from under her eyes and whispered, “Yes.”

  While Nick and Ken waited in the hall and the officers stepped into the kitchen to not be seen at first, Claire squared her shoulders and knocked on the library door.<
br />
  “Come in!” Steve called.

  She went in and closed the door behind her, leaning against it as if she could shut out Ken and everything awful that had happened.

  “So, I think Darcy looks a little thin and tired and could use a visit to a doctor just to be sure everything’s okay,” she said, trying to sound upbeat but her voice quavered.

  “I understand, but can’t we wait until tomorrow?” Steve asked. “Thanks for all you’ve done, Claire. Nick, too.”

  “Steve, you need to step out in the hall a moment to talk to Nick first.”

  “He decide to represent me?”

  “For what, Steve?” Darcy asked. “Do we need a lawyer? Did something happen on your job site?”

  She was sitting tight against him on the leather couch with Jilly pinned to her other side. For one moment that wistful, puzzled look on her sister’s face reminded Claire of Will’s painting of his grandmother with her butterfly net...

  “Steve, please,” Claire said, and came closer to him, praying he would not see her sending him out into the hall without warning him as a betrayal. “I promise you, I will stay with Darcy.”

  He heaved a huge sigh and got up to go to the door. Claire bit her lower lip, feeling she’d been a traitor just now, but they didn’t need uniformed officers near Darcy or Jilly, or Steve putting up another fight. Dear God, what if he was guilty of what they were accusing him of?

  He looked back at his family, then went out into the hall and closed the door behind him. Claire put her arm around Darcy, and they hugged again, even as Jilly squeezed into their embrace, too.

  Through the door, Claire could barely hear the muffled words, but she knew what to expect. Steve’s protest and then Nick’s calming tones. Finally, even more distant, Ken Jensen’s voice, “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney...”

  “Darcy,” Claire said, “you do look like you’re coming down with something, so I’m going to go with you to have you checked out.”

  “But Steve and I are going to plan our private anniversary dinner, so that will have to wait. I’m fine, just fine.”

  24

  Rain pounded on the ambulance roof as Claire sat next to Darcy, who was strapped on the gurney. An ER nurse was with them and had checked on Darcy’s vitals—normal but for dilated eyes and a high blood pressure reading, but what did they expect, whisking her away like this? At least the driver had not turned on the siren to alarm her more.

  Steve had been given time to see Darcy again before Ken took him in. He’d told her he was going to check their house because of the storm and would see her soon. Nick had gone with him. How had it come to this so swiftly? The shock, the joy—then tragedy again. Steve was under arrest and poor Jilly, who was suddenly without her parents, was clinging to Lexi and that horrible doll.

  But if time was a blur to Darcy, everything was that way to Claire as the ambulance drove toward the hospital. She’d taken her nightly narcolepsy meds, but she had to try to keep things straight. She empathized with Darcy, the uncertainty, the panic and fear.

  “I don’t think I need an ambulance, but Steve said maybe I hit my head,” Darcy said as Claire leaned close and held her hand.

  “Maybe. Your eyes are dilated.”

  “And I can’t remember how I lost my phone, because I had my purse, my car keys. Can’t recall leaving Tara’s. I think someone came for some butterflies.”

  “Who was that?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe the men who took care of the dolphin at the zoo.”

  Claire was confused. There were no dolphins at the zoo. Even if there were, why would dolphin keepers want butterflies? And she realized she should not be questioning Darcy now but then she could tell Ken—if she was ever speaking to him again—what Darcy said here. But her sister wasn’t making sense. Was she?

  “Were you at the zoo today, Darcy?”

  “I might have been.”

  At least the nurse didn’t seem interested in what Darcy was saying, only in reading the monitors attached to her.

  “I think it was raining at the zoo,” Darcy whispered, as if it were a secret. “Or it might have been somewhere people were swimming in little pools, but I could only see their faces.”

  Oh, dear God, her sister wasn’t here at all, at least not mentally. Something traumatic had happened to her, but at least they had her back and could help her. Claire kept holding her hand as the ambulance turned into the emergency entrance of the NCH North Naples Hospital. It was dry under the portico as the nurse and driver slid, then rolled out, Darcy’s gurney and extended the wheeled legs. Claire followed along, hefting the duffel bag with things for her and Darcy that Nita had hastily packed.

  They went inside and down corridors, used an elevator to the area marked Psychiatric and Psychology Center. A private room was waiting; they went right in, and two nurses transferred Darcy to a bed and got her changed into a hospital gown while Claire hovered. The single room had a sofa-type bed along one wall, so she put her things there. Thank heavens, she could stay right here all night.

  A tall, thin, blonde woman stepped in. Her white coat was scripted over the pocket with Dr. Lesley Spizer. Claire stood at the foot of the bed while the doctor, perhaps in her midforties, nodded to her, but stepped closer to take Darcy’s hand.

  “Darcy, I’m Dr. Spizer, and I’m going to help you feel better.”

  “I’m really all right, just tired. But maybe I hit my head because—because on the wall there,” she said pointing past Claire, “it says it is August 23, and that can’t be. That means I missed my wedding anniversary, but I don’t think I did.”

  “Don’t worry about that, about anything,” the doctor told her. “We will do some tests to find out if you hit your head, and your sister can stay here with you. If you missed your anniversary, I’m sure you can celebrate later.”

  Dr. Spizer assured Darcy she would be able to go home soon, that her daughter and son could visit, so the doctor had obviously been filled in on Darcy’s background. She didn’t mention Steve. How much did this woman know?

  The doctor said goodbye to Darcy “for now” and motioned Claire out into the hall.

  Dr. Spizer assured her they would do all they could for Darcy and her family, and that, starting tomorrow when the story broke, there would be police protection here to fend off any “untoward, intrusive inquiries.”

  “First, of course,” she told Claire, “we’ll do a blood draw for tests to see if she has any drugs in her system. With those dilated eyes, it’s a good bet. We will try to expedite lab results if it’s anything unusual.”

  “We’re so grateful to have her back,” Claire said. “You have obviously been filled in by the authorities about her.”

  “Yes. Actually, I was also following the story in the media. I’m a certifiable news junkie—so I guess there’s something off-kilter about all of us.” She touched Claire’s shoulder. “Detective Jensen said you are a forensic psych, so that will give you some knowledge about how things will go here. We’ll start with her body, but we’ll have to probe her mind, too.”

  “Anything I can do to help, to support her, please let me know.”

  “I have a sister I couldn’t do without,” the doctor said with a sharp nod. “I know it’s hard, but try to make yourself—and her—at home.”

  * * *

  It was after ten o’clock that night when a nurse came into the room to whisper to Claire that her husband was in the waiting area down the hall.

  Darcy had gone to sleep after blood tests, and they had eaten a light meal, but Claire had just lain on the sofa bed wide-awake, thinking, worrying, wondering.

  Though hesitant to leave Darcy in case she woke and wondered where she was, Claire hurried into the waiting room and into Nick’s arms.

  “How are Steve and the girls?” she asked.

  “The girls are shook but both Kris and Brit stopped by with little g
ifts and diversions. Steve has been booked. I got him bail bond through his company. He’ll see a lawyer friend of mine tomorrow. He’s been released, under Ken’s temporary condition he not barge in here for twenty-four hours. I took him back to our house where he’s trying to deal with Jilly and his own stupid behavior. He admitted to me he did confront Larry Ralston when he figured out from Heck that Fly Safe was hostile to Tara’s butterfly farm. He admitted to me—not to the police—that he did have an argument with Ralston, shoved him around. Steve got a cut on his face there, then used a paper napkin from the bar to wipe the blood.”

  “And probably accidentally dropped it on his way out so the police could eventually find his DNA. Nick, I fear for Darcy’s sanity already, and if she hears about Steve...”

  He tugged her over to the table and pulled out chairs for both of them. At least this late, the area was deserted. “So fill me in on what’s happened here so far,” he said.

  “I like her doctor, Lesley Spizer. They drew blood, did other kinds of tests. Results pending, at least I haven’t heard. Dr. Spizer asked me for possible questions to ask Darcy, and she said I could sit in on that if I mostly listened and didn’t prompt. I gave her some basic queries like ‘Did you go anywhere but the Flutterby Farm? Did someone come to take the butterflies?’ Darcy said someone came to take them, but she didn’t know who. She said something about seeing people swimming in little pools, but she saw only their faces.”

  “Sounds delusional at best, but it’s got to mean something. What else?”

  “Questions like, ‘What happened to your phone? Since you were late coming home, where were you?’ Then I ran out of questions except for going back in time to be sure she has those memories—she knew Steve and Jilly, so... Nick, I was terrified when she was missing, but I’m still scared for her. Something awful happened, and she won’t be really safe until we—or Ken Jensen—find out what.”

  “I know, sweetheart, and—”

  Dr. Spizer came into the room with her little laptop in hand. “I heard your husband was here. Let me share some prelim findings with both of you. I understand Darcy’s husband needs to be informed also, but Detective Jensen, whom I called first with these results, tells me you can pass on this early information to her husband.”