The Dana Potter Cozy Mystery Collection

by Liz Turner

  Dana looked at him, not wanting to say anything until she heard Smith’s account of the events.

  “Okay, okay,” Hollows said, understanding. “But you know something.”

  Dana shifted in her seat. “I suppose I do.”

  “What’s your relationship with this kid?”

  Dana frowned. “I suppose you can say we met from having a mutual friend.”

  “Mmhm,” Hollows grumbled, amused. “How do you always find yourself in these situations, Dana? It seems like ever since you arrived back in Pippin, you’ve been involved somehow in all our most high-profile, baffling cases. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was you causing them all.”

  “Oh, no—Constable, you know—”

  “Relax,” he said, holding up a hand. “I know you didn’t have anything to do with this.”

  Dana nodded, but inwardly wasn’t so sure she didn’t have some hand in what had happened to Smith. But before she could dwell on it too long, they spotted the nurse walking out to the waiting room.

  “Finished?” Dana asked.

  “Yes. You can go in and see him now. But make sure he doesn’t move too much, okay? Thanks a million.” She jokingly wagged a finger at them.

  Dana and Constable Hollows headed back into Smith’s room.

  The boy looked calmer and less red in the face. But when Dana tried to speak to him, he responded with a weak smile before closing his eyes.

  Dana sighed and looked at Constable Hollows. “He’s all drowsy from the pain medication,” she said.

  “We can come back in a few hours.”

  “No, no.” Dana bit her lip. “I think I’ll just stay here and ask him some questions as soon as he wakes up. I don’t want to miss a window where he’s awake and talking before someone comes in and decides he needs more medication.” She looked at the constable who was standing stiffly with his hands in his trouser pockets. “But you go on ahead. I can call you when he wakes.”

  Hollows’ face collapsed in relief; he’d clearly had enough of the hospital. “Okay. I’m going to head back to Pippin and take care of a few things then. But really, give me a call.” He patted his cellphone in his pocket for good measure and then left.

  Dana settled into her chair by Smith’s bed and opened the magazine she’d taken from the waiting room. The early afternoon light filtered in through the small slits of the closed blinds and the hallway was quiet except for the clinking metal trays being transported by nurses. Dana looked at Smith sleeping peacefully, his chest rising and falling evenly.

  Shortly, she was nodding herself.

  “Ms. Potter?” a voice said sometime later.

  She jerked awake, lifting her head from her chest. Blinking, she realized it had gotten late. The sun was no longer visible through the window, having dropped to the other side of the building. Embarrassed, she discreetly wiped her mouth and smiled at Smith.

  “Oh, goodness. You looked so relaxed, I guess it was contagious!” She chuckled.

  Smith smiled. “Thank you for coming. It means a lot.”

  “Of course,” she said. “Now, what was it that you wanted to tell me? You started to tell me something about Laney and then the nurse whisked us out.”

  “It was that, well…”

  “That she was the one who stabbed you?”

  Smith wouldn’t look her in the eyes. Dana studied him, realizing he was tearing up. She pulled a small pouch of tissues from her handbag and passed them to him. He took a tissue and pressed it to his face, staying like that for a minute before looking up.

  “Yes,” he said heavily. “Laney—she called me to see if I wanted to hang out late last night after I left your house. She, of course, didn’t think there was anything wrong with her canceling our café date. Why should she? But man, I was angry at her. I hid it though, because my curiosity was stronger, I guess. So I agreed to pick her up at her house. She was sneaking out because she planned to be out later than her parents would have approved.”

  “Did you help her sneak out before?”

  “Yes,” Smith said, sighing. “Well, not really. I just provided the getaway car…”

  “I see. Go on.”

  “I picked her up and asked her where she wanted to go, but she just shrugged and said she was happy to go anywhere with me. I didn’t know where to go, so I suggested we go to my house. She agreed, so I started driving. But then I couldn’t take it, Ms. Potter. I just couldn’t take it.”

  “Couldn’t take what?”

  “Her. And her happy chatter, like she hadn’t been lying to me this whole time! I know you had said not to confront her like that, but I really just couldn’t keep it inside any longer. I asked her if she knew a Taylor Reinhart. She said she didn’t, but then I came clean and told her I knew she was Taylor and that she’d lied to me about a lot of other stuff. I told her I would talk to her parents and find out the truth once and for all if she didn’t tell me herself.

  “And then she snapped…She started screaming that I was a liar like everyone else. And she started hitting me—hard—yelling at me to pull over and let her out. But I couldn’t just let her walk home in the dark all alone on that long empty road, so I told her I’d pull over and we could just talk about it.” Smith sighed. “She got out immediately when I stopped the engine, and I followed her. I was just going to try to get her to calm down when she turned on me with a knife. She told me to stop it. That I was ‘one of them’ and needed to stay back. I backed away, but I couldn’t help reaching out and trying to comfort her. She looked so scared…Next thing I knew, she was yelling something awful and…Well, you know.” He gestured to his bandages. “I wanted to tell you that you were right, Ms. Potter. Laney is dangerous and needs help or something. I don’t know…”

  Dana nodded slowly. Even she couldn’t have predicted Taylor would have done something like this, despite how strange she’d been acting lately. And she felt so bad for what had happened to Smith; he was putting on a brave face, but she could tell he was in shock about the whole thing. Getting violently attacked by your girlfriend wasn’t something that could be easily shaken off.

  Smith cleared his throat. “Er, you aren’t going to tell the police, are you? We’re going to take care of this on our own like we’d planned, right?”

  Dana met his eyes and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Smith. I have an obligation to report what you just told me to the police. Taylor Reinhart is going to have explain her actions. But there’s someone else I’d like to get involved too.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “A friend of mine from back in the day. He used to work in Atlanta, but I believe a few years ago, he moved his practice to Savannah. He’s a clinical pediatric psychologist.”

  Smith’s eyes widened. “You think she’s crazy?”

  “Of course not. But she attacked you, Smith. Don’t you think we ought to find out if there’s a medical reason behind her actions rather than just a moral one?”

  “Okay. Just don’t tell my parents, all right? They’d kill me if they knew I was lying about not remembering what happened.”

  Dana smiled softly. Smith was such a teenager, worrying over a trivial thing like that. In Dana’s experience, parents didn’t care about small things like that during such a crisis. They would have simply been grateful their son was alive.

  “Okay,” she agreed, knowing that even if she didn’t tell them, they would find out soon enough, anyway.

  She said goodbye to Smith and left. On her way back to Pippin, she phoned Constable Hollows to inform him of what Smith had confessed about his attacker.

  “Taylor Reinhart?” the constable replied, nearly choking over the name.

  “I’m afraid so.” Dana hesitated. “I’d offered some advice to Smith about how to, ahem, approach Taylor about her lies. It’s a bit of a long story, but I’d been a victim of some outrageous and incredulous lies by her and, well—when I heard Smith was dating her and that Taylor was even going by a different name with him, I grew concerned.�
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  “Wha—”

  “Hold on. I know what you’re going to say. Why didn’t you go to the police and all that? But you have to understand Taylor hadn’t done anything illegal, until last night, that is. But how could I have guessed things would escalate so quickly?”

  “I think you did a good thing, helping that boy. I didn’t mean any offense by my shock, Dana. Frankly, I’m just baffled. The Reinharts are such a decent, longstanding family in Pippin. And Taylor—she’s always been the nicest, reserved young lady.”

  “I know. It is shocking. But I don’t see a reason for Smith to make the attack up, and I thought I‘d better tell you what I know about Taylor before you assumed Smith was lying.”

  “I would never just assume a victim is lying.”

  “No, of course not.”

  After Dana had hung up with the constable, she called her old friend Jeffrey Redding. They had lived in the same building for ten years in Atlanta, and over time, the two became quite close for neighbors.

  The phone rang several long moments. Dana was just about to hang up when a pleasant raspy voice answered.

  “Is this who I think it is?” Jefferey said exuberantly. “The Dana Potter, calling me out of the blue? At…let’s see…at eight p.m.? To what do I owe this immense honor?”

  Dana chuckled. “Yes Jeffery, it’s the Dana Potter. Though I apologize for calling you off hours. I should be calling you on a Saturday morning just to ask how you are! But here I am, calling you for a favor.”

  “Ah, I see,” he said. Dana could almost hear the twinkle in his eye through the phone. Jeffery was a good twenty years younger than her, but he had an old soul. He reminded her of a kindly professor she’d had in college back in the ‘60s. “Of course, I’m happy to help the woman who introduced me to Jessie.”

  Dana smiled broadly. “Oh, you know I can’t take credit for any of that.” Back when Jeffery had just moved into her building, Dana had thrown a party, ostensibly to celebrate the sale of her 1000th home. However, she’d invited all the neighbors, and there, Jeffery had met Jessie, a woman who’d been Dana’s assistant during her first few years in business. They’d hit it off and eventually gotten married.

  “Nonsense! You somehow divined that I needed to be at that party. Don’t you remember how I resisted the invitation?”

  “The only thing I divined was that you were an overworked young doctor who deserved to get out and let loose once in a while, especially since the party was literally just a few feet away!” Dana laughed.

  “Well, now, that was the case, too. Tell me, what’s the favor you need?”

  “I’d like you to—and tell me if this is completely out of the question—evaluate a friend of mine. She’s a young girl here in town, and she’s just done something truly out of character. We’re all very worried. It’s possible that she might do something else, or even go to prison. I just want to see if everything’s all right, you know—psychologically. Perhaps she didn’t mean to do what she did. She may not have been in her right mind.” Dana held her breath, knowing what she was asking was unorthodox.

  Jeffery grunted. “Can you tell me more specifically the details of what’s happened?”

  Dana relayed Taylor’s strange behavior and double-life, leading up to the frenzied stabbing of her boyfriend. “See why it’s important that she’s evaluated?”

  “Yes, I’d say so.” He sighed. “Have her parents not taken her to a doctor yet?”

  “They’re the typical Pippin family—the sort that doesn’t really like talking about illnesses of the mind. I’m sure they’ll do their best to believe that Smith, the young man who was stabbed, is making the whole story up. And the town is liable to side with the Reinharts. Taylor’s a sweet girl, and her strange behavior has gone unnoticed for the most part.”

  “Except for by you. You always were so sneaky with your observations.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment. So, what do you say? Just come and see her. It doesn’t even have to be in an official capacity. You’re the best psychologist in the Southeast. I think your status alone will be enough to convince the Reinharts that they ought to consider the possibility.”

  “Okay, I’ll fly down in the morning. I’ve only got one patient tomorrow, but I can reschedule.”

  Dana was flooded with relief. “Thank you, Jeffery. I owe you one.”

  “Just be careful, Dana. This young woman sounds unstable. You don’t want to be the next person to get stabbed.”

  Chapter 9

  A Crack in the Mind

  The next morning, Dana drove her car to the airport in Savannah to meet Jeffery. He emerged from the sliding doors looking bright and cheerful, his sandy hair just starting to show the telltale streaks of gray though he was in his late fifties.

  “Dana!” he said, embracing her tightly. “What’s it been, five years?”

  “I believe you’re right, unfortunately. Far too long. My car’s parked on level two.” She led him through the crowded parking lot. “Would you like to get some lunch before meeting Taylor?”

  “I sure would. Do we have enough time? When are they expecting us?”

  Dana started the car and began driving. “Oh, I think we have plenty of time. There’s this lovely seafood restaurant just on our way out of the city.”

  “Dana,” Jeffery said, leveling a glance at her, “you didn’t tell the family I was coming, did you?”

  “Trust me, it’s better this way. They won’t listen to me, but once you’re there and winning them over with your credentials and impeccable bedside manner…”

  Dana knew Jeffery would be upset about her plan to surprise the Reinharts. However, she knew how people like the Reinharts operated. You could never do anything directly about something so sensitive. It all had to be treated like a fortunate accident.

  “Wasn’t it miraculous that your Dr. Redding was in town just when we needed him?” Dana could practically hear Sara Beth saying.

  And Dana knew Jeffery well, too; he wouldn’t have come if he’d known it was without the family’s knowledge.

  I never lie though, Dana thought to herself. I just reveal the smallest amount of information necessary.

  Jeffery sighed. “There’s no arguing with you, is there? All right, let’s grab some of this famous Savannah seafood then. No point in rushing over to the Reinharts unannounced.” He paused. “You said the girl stabbed her boyfriend quite violently? Has she not been charged with a crime?”

  Dana shook her head. “I don’t imagine she will be. Not solely on the word of a young man from out-of-town. She’ll be given the benefit of the doubt for as long as possible until the evidence against her can’t be ignored. The constable—Constable Hollows, a good friend of mine—believes Smith and I about Taylor’s guilt, but arresting a young girl for a grisly crime like that without ensuring the case was air tight wouldn’t bode well for him in this town. Not that I want Taylor arrested,” she added quickly. “I think she needs help, though. And she won’t get help without some sensible…interference.”

  ***

  A short while later, Dana and Jeffery were sitting across from each other at a table on the covered porch of the restaurant overlooking the marsh. Dana sipped a chilled glass of white wine while admiring the view. She couldn’t help wishing she’d called Jeffery down for a proper visit before such an unfortunate incident; it would have been nice to just catch up over a weekend.

  “From what I’ve told you about Taylor, do you think I’m right in thinking she needs psychiatric help? Is it possible she’s just, er…morally bankrupt, for lack of a better term?”

  Jeffery put down his tea and pondered. “I don’t like suggesting a diagnosis having not met the patient myself, but I would say that you were right in coming to me. It sounds like the girl has experienced an abrupt change in personality. Unless she’s fooling everyone, and this Laney business is just a smokescreen for her, allowing her to act out her violent tendencies—I’d say she could certainly benefit from some
help.”

  “It’s the Laney business, as you put it, that worries me most. More than even the stabbing, perhaps. She just seemed so sincere as Laney and equally genuine when she claimed, as Taylor, to have no clue as to who Laney was.”

  “Indeed.”

  “As far as I know, she’s only been ‘Laney’ with me and Smith. But with her family and everyone else who’s close to her, she’s her same regular old self.”

  Jeffery mumbled something under his breath that Dana didn’t hear clearly, his face contorted into a deeply concerned expression.

  “What was that?” she asked right as the server came and set down steaming plates of crab and rice in front of them. “You mumbled something just now, Jefferey. What was it?”

  He cleared his throat. “Oh, nothing.” When he saw how earnestly Dana watched him though, he changed his mind. “I just have a hunch that this young woman might be suffering from a dissociative disorder. That her charade could be a method of dealing with feelings of extreme paranoia. Perhaps she feels everyone around her is leading a double-life or something of the sort and thinks she’s protecting herself by splitting her life into two distinct parts.”

  “But…why? Why be someone else with Smith?”

  “Well,” he paused and swallowed, seemingly unsure how to proceed. “That could stem from something very normal, actually. However, it does usually begin with some repressed trauma. But, from what you’ve told me about the Reinharts, I don’t think that’s the case here. Her parents are quite conservative, you say? Like many parents, maybe they had a conversation with her, sternly advising her not to date until she was older. For a well person, they might date someone in secret without developing a separate persona. But for Taylor—her paranoia has led her to take extreme measures to protect herself. Thus, when she’s with Smith, she begins to disassociate from Taylor entirely. I think she might be suffering dissociative identity disorder—what was formerly known has multiple, or split, personality disorder.”

  Dana thought for a moment. “Okay, what about her being Laney with me that day though, and then Taylor again later on? Surely she’s not trying to protect herself from me?”