Dr. Collins informed him that I’d previously been in her care, as well as in the care of Dr. Steele, and that seemed to impress him. They’d promised that although they would be returning to their practices, I would be well taken care of in the facility. He’d spoken to me in positive terms and his eyes had positively sparkled with optimism. I’d tried to sparkle back, but it hadn’t been easy, knowing it meant I’d be subjected to more sessions, if not with those two women, then with other shrinks who just knew they could set me right. They had no idea who they were dealing with.
Jack was at the hearing, of course, with Lisa. At the end, when I was given a few minutes to speak with them, I apologized to Lisa and told Jack to forget about me; that I was never going to be okay enough to be a wife and God forbid, a mother. He tried to protest, but the look on his face told me that he knew I was right. I took off my engagement ring and pressed it into his hand, and they watched as I was led away to the van that would take me back to the sanitarium, which Dr. Collins was now trying to pass off as some sort of a mental health spa. A look back confirmed what I’d thought about the two of them, as I watched Jack wrap a sobbing Lisa in his arms. I cried too, not only over lost love and lost friendship, but at the disappointment and heartbreak I’d caused two of the sweetest people I’d ever known.
As time passed, I did some thinking about why I’d packed up part of the stolen money and sent it to myself, and I managed to develop a few theories. Maybe my judgment had been permanently clouded by all the crap I’d endured in my life. Maybe I thought I deserved it for losing my business at the hands of Danny, and Carl, and Ferdy, and most of all, Harley; for being used and made a fool of by them. Maybe my thinking was skewed by my failed relationships and for the years of mental problems I’ve lived with because of the nightmare I call my childhood and oh, yes, the image of my mother burning in her bed, that will not let me go.
Maybe I thought I could outrun it all with the money. Taking it had certainly been an act of desperation; a decision that had to be made in a hurry, before Harley returned from the pharmacy, or Ferdy came to. There’d been no opportunity to think through what the consequences might be, or even enough time to ask myself what taking the money would say about me personally. I’d simply taken it.
Jack had said that all perps were caught because they made one stupid mistake, but I’d made two, and they both involved Harley. I’d taken the money from her, and then trusted her to help me keep it. But who else could I have asked for help? I couldn’t have dragged Lisa or Jack into it and asked them to move the boxes from storage – make them culpable. They wouldn’t have done it anyway. Harley had been the only stinking choice I had.
What totally pissed me off, when it finally dawned on me, was that I’d completely forgotten about the reward money; $100,000.00 from Sean for finding Ferdy, and $200,000 for information leading to the capture of those responsible for the robbery. I’d done both – so in the end, if I hadn’t fucked up in California, I could have had all that money and Harley would have ended up without a dime.
I received a postcard from her a few days ago. It was mailed from Dallas, Texas, which assured me she was no longer there. She’d written, Ta-ta! and signed it, The New Separator. Harley, the hippie impersonator, was the one who had set me up and brought me down. Now she was free, and I was sitting here in the booby hatch. What a world.
Chapter 46
Today is Memorial Day, here in the “spa,” as well as in the outside world. I closed my eyes and pictured the parade that should be in full swing right about now, in front of my old apartment. A hometown showcase of politicians, classic cars, emergency vehicles with their lights flashing, and marching bands playing patriotic music. Kids’ baseball and soccer teams would be throwing candy to the people lining the street, while men and women sold balloons from bunches that were large enough, one would think, to carry them off like extras in the movie UP. There would be scouts, Hibernians with kilts and bagpipes, and a show of horses that was always followed by at least three men carrying shovels.
I waved my arms in the air and silently cheered for the marching bands; felt the beat of the drums in my bones. I wanted so badly to march around my room, but I didn’t want anyone who might be watching to think I was not in my right mind. I lowered my arms and sat quietly on my bed, smiling like a fool.
In my mind’s eye I saw the spectators – children lining the street, mothers pushing strollers, and elderly citizens who could not stand for the entire length of the parade, sitting curbside in folding chairs. Then came Drs. Collins and Steele, atop of their very own float, tossing little pieces of papers filled with psychobabble, to the crowd. Enlightenment shown in the people’s eyes as they read their little snippets of wisdom, realizing that now their lives would be perfect. But what was that? A spark at the back of their float? Yes! Someone (me!)) had set fire to it, and I watched from the curb with the old ladies, as the whole thing went up like the Hindenburg. Oh, how I love a parade.
I laughed and shook my head, thinking that probably wasn’t what the judge had in mind when he’d asked me to make some plans; to envision my future back in society and all that. Long-range life strategies were still difficult for me to consider, except for the one thing I knew for sure. When I did get out of here, I’d go looking for Harley.
I saw myself knocking on her door in some faraway exotic place. She’d open it and I’d push my way in and shove her against a wall. And that was just for starters. I’d tie her to a chair, cover her mouth with tape like I’d seen on TV, and begin to separate her from every one of her fingers, and maybe, if she was still conscious, every one of her toes. One-by-one. Knuckle-by-knuckle. Then I’d wave and say, “Ta-ta,” and set her place on fire.
Chapter 47
One Year Later
A woman knocked softly on the door. “Excuse me, Miss Dory? Audrey Dory?”
I squinted at the shape in the doorway and managed to say, “Whatever it is, I didn’t do it.” My first thought was that she would turn out to be yet another therapist who wanted to experiment with my gray matter. I’d been treated by everything but a witch doctor. Maybe that’s what this one would bring to the party; wart of toad, hair of rat, blood of swine. “What do you want?”
She was dressed to the nines in a royal blue suit, belted at the waist, hair perfect and starting to gray. Her heels clicked on the linoleum floor. “My name is Elisabeth Ely, and I’ve been looking for you.”
“Get in line.”
She pulled the visitor’s chair up to the bed railing. “I was your parents’ attorney; still am really, at least until this is finished.” She reached into her briefcase and pulled out a large manila envelope. “I have some paperwork here for you to sign.”
“I don’t think I’m legally supposed to sign anything.” I tapped my temple. “Nuts, you know.”
She smiled. “You’ve been cleared by your therapists and by the court. They have deemed you mentally stable…enough…to sign these papers. And I believe Dr. Collins will be here shortly to tell you that you’ll be released in less than a month.”
I sat up and tried to focus. “You’re kidding. So, where are these magic papers?”
“I know that you never knew your father, but you did know he was an investment banker; and he was quite a successful one. He’d started a savings account for you when you were born and it’s been accruing interest since then. There’s also the matter of his life insurance policies – one went to your mother, of course, and there was one for you. Then there was her life insurance and the insurance from the fire.”
I stared at her like she was the one who should have her gray matter stirred and strained. “I was told the insurance money went into a fund for my care when I lived with my grandmother and aunt.”
“Your father had also seen to both of them,” she said. “He was a generous man who loved his entire family. And because of that, your grandmother and aunt had plenty of their own money. Neither woman had ever dipped into the fund for your care, per
haps out of appreciation.”
I wanted to yell, “Objection! Calls for speculation!” but I just nodded instead.
“Don’t you want to know how much money these papers will release to you?”
“Go for it,” I said, trying to hear her above all the voices that were screaming inside my head.
“These papers grant you a grand total of twenty-three-million dollars.”
“Why didn’t I know about this before?”
“Your father’s instructions were tightly written; you were not to know about, or receive, any money until the age of thirty-four, which you turned last month. I’m sorry it took me extra time to find you, and then I had to meet with your therapists and the court.”
“Isn’t karma great?” I asked.
She looked concerned. “Excuse me?”
“You know, karma,” I said. “The universe, the cosmos; all that crap. It’s great.”
“Well, sign these and I’ll leave you to it. You can come to my office upon your release; we’ll meet with the financial advisor on my staff and get you all set up. You’re a rich woman, Miss Dory.”
“No one else knows about this, right?”
“Just your therapists and one judge – and none of them can say a word to anyone. Why, is there someone you want to surprise?”
“Oh, there sure is,” I smiled.
She handed me a pen and I signed for the unimaginable amount. I’d forgotten about my birthday. I giggled to myself and thought, when I get out of here, I’ll buy myself something really nice. And then? Then I’ll go find Harley.
More from Margaret Belle
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Acknowledgments
I would like to thank the following people for their invaluable help. In alphabetical order:
Lisa Fiesinger, introductions
Jill Frier, Rochester locations
Betsy Glick, FBI
Dick Kirk, owner of Krabby Kirk’s
John Kobliski, IT and book cover
Mary Murphy, introductions and nursing experience
Terry Selzer, Attorney at Law
Connie Semel, St. Joseph’s College of Nursing
Chad Szakacs, banking procedures
Officer Joseph Szakacs, Syracuse PD
Table of Contents
Prologue Rochester, NY - 2003
Chapter 1 Syracuse, NY - 2013
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47 One Year Later
Brainstorm Page 22