fog. Just in case she came out, your uncle performed a prefrontal lobotomy on her, which was not recorded. The doctors at Charity confirmed that by the scars.”
“Where’s the Fugate diary? I want to see it for myself.”
“I have it in a safe place. I intend to use it to build a case against your uncle. I just wanted you to know what’s in it before it becomes public knowledge.”
“Where’s Sibby now?”
“She’s hospitalized for observation at Charity.”
“What will happen to her?”
“She’ll be going back to River Run, or someplace like it, I imagine. I don’t know how dangerous she is now. They’ll have to evaluate her and make that decision.”
“I can’t believe my mother is…that woman. And you think Grace knew it?”
Alexa nodded.
“How?”
“This is the man she called Doc.” Alexa took out the picture of Doc standing with Grace and handed it to Casey. “He had a connection to Fugate and another inmate at River Run, who helped them kidnap Gary and kill Dorothy. Grace had a copy of the diary at her house.”
“I’ve seen him before. Wait. He’s that orderly at River Run. Just a minute. Is he the man I shot?”
“He may be a relative of Fugate’s. She mentioned her nephew in the diary, but not by name. I think he targeted Grace and somehow enlisted her help.”
“Grace was so alone that it probably wasn’t hard. He probably seduced her, poor thing. What’s his name?”
“Doc is the only name we have. That’s what I heard Leland Ticholet call him.”
“Grace is — was my closest friend. She was loyal.”
“Maybe you were her friend, but it appears she wasn’t yours. I’m sorry to have to tell you all this.”
“You were suspicious all along.” Casey shook her head. “You said I shouldn’t tell her anything you told me…” She put her head in her hands, ran her fingers through her hair. “My grandmother told me never to trust anybody. She said those closest to me would be the most envious of what I had. She didn’t care for Grace, but allowed us to be friends because Grace was socially acceptable. My grandmother wasn’t much fond of anybody.” Slowly, Casey tucked her hair behind her ears. “Maybe you’re wrong. Maybe Grace was framed and that man I shot killed her so we wouldn’t know. It’s possible, right?”
“The man you shot got away. I think he gave Grace the money they’d need to get away until they could cash the bonds. We found a plane ticket to Paris in her name and another to Spain, in her false name. Her suitcases were packed. Grace had dyed her hair and had colored contacts to alter her appearance. This was well planned.”
“Grace always was organized.”
“I think Grace and Doc sent out photocopies of the diary to the media. That’s why they’re calling you.”
“Why would she do such a thing? This is all going to be made public? All of it? Why? And if this Doc had the diary, why did they bother to kidnap Gary?”
“I’m not sure, but I think that may have been Grace’s idea, maybe a requirement for helping Doc. She had lots of pictures of you in the apartment.”
“We’ve been friends for nearly twenty-five years. I have pictures of her in my house and studio.”
“She had boxes filled with them. Covering the walls, in drawers. She was obsessed with you.”
“You mean like stalker obsessed?”
Alexa nodded.
“Is it possible that Unko or Fugate told Sibby about my parents? So that she’d harm them? How awful!”
“The diary didn’t say so.”
“It wouldn’t necessarily, would it? Who in their right mind would write that down? That they’d deliberately sent a madwoman into the home of two innocent people, to butcher them? Unko would never have had any control if my father had lived. Alexa, my family history is filled with the person in control being ousted by the person next in line. The strongest warrior in waiting defeats the king, and takes over. Alexa, it’s true! I know that’s what happened. Unko deliberately used her to murder my parents!”
“I’m sorry you had to hear all of this from me. Sorry you had to hear it at all.”
“You’re most sorry because it’s true,” Casey said, smiling for the first time since Alexa had mentioned the notebook. “You are a wonderful, kind person, Alexa Keen. We’re alike, you and me. Orphans. It’s true. Don’t you see?”
Casey embraced Alexa. “You are the savior of the lost. If there’s anything I can ever do for you, it’s yours.”
Alexa left the West house. She ignored the shouted questions of the members of the fourth estate, gathering like hungry crows.
77
Alexa tried to call Manseur to give him an update on her meeting with Casey, and to check the status of the search for the tracker that might lead them to Leland Ticholet and the wounded Doc Doe. The call went straight into his voice mail.
“Call me when you get this,” Alexa said.
Ten minutes later, when her cell phone rang, she flipped it open.
“Keen,” she answered.
“Alexa,” Manseur said. “Where are you?”
“Almost back to the downtown.”
“Have any blue jeans with you?” he asked her.
“At the hotel. Why?”
“Sneakers?”
“I have running shoes? Why?”
“Go to your room and change into them. We got a signal on the briefcase tracker in the swamp. I’m leaving the office. I can swing by and pick you up. Kennedy and Bond are getting some equipment and they’ll meet us.”
“Ten minutes,” Alexa said. “I’ll be out front waiting for you.”
Twelve minutes later Alexa climbed into Manseur’s car just as he was yawning. “I thought this might be better than a purse out there.” Manseur handed her a high-rise belt holster for her Glock as well as a magazine holder with a pair of loaded magazines. “Those are your mags. The lab returned them.”
“You are so thoughtful.” Alexa went into her purse to give Manseur the one he’d loaned her.
“The cell phone you found in the grass was the mystery prepaid cell number,” Manseur said. “The phone links Grace to the other perps.”
“No surprise there. By the way, Casey confirmed that our Doc was the orderly from River Run that Grace was flirting with when she was taking pictures out there.”
“Which reminds me. Doc’s real name is Andy Tinsdale. Veronica gave me his last known address. Tinsdale was on the violent wards for three years. He left, under a dark cloud, about the time Fugate did. There were some unsavory accusations involving patient abuse and missing meds.”
“Tinsdale. I remember the name from the list of staff. We need to have a look in his place.”
“We will when we get back. I had patrol check the apartment and it’s locked up tight. Neighbor said nobody’s been in since day before yesterday. By the way, don’t be surprised if there are sound trucks from a caravan behind us. The damned media is in a feeding frenzy, trying to slip this bombshell in to augment their hurricane coverage.”
“Already? They don’t know the diary’s authentic yet.”
“Yes, they do.”
“How?”
