Private Eyes

“I’d be happy to talk with your mother. If she consents. And if it’s okay with the Gabneys.”

She frowned. “Why them?”

“I need to make sure I don’t disrupt their treatment plan.”

“Okay,” she said. “I just hope she doesn’t give you problems.”

“Dr. Ursula?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Any reason you think she might?”

“No. She’s just… She likes to be in charge of everything. I can’t help thinking she wants Mother to keep secrets. That have nothing to do with therapy.”

“What kind of secrets?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “That’s the thing: I’ve got nothing to back me up- just a feeling. I know it sounds weird. Noel says I’m being paranoid.”

“It’s not paranoia,” I said. “You care deeply about your mother. You’ve been taking care of her for years. It wouldn’t be natural for you to just-”

Her tension dissipated. She smiled.

I said, “There I go again, huh?”

She started to giggle, stopped, embarrassed.

I said, “I’ll call Dr. Ursula today, and we’ll take it from there. Okay?”

“Okay.” She took a couple of steps closer, wrote down the number at the clinic for me.

I said, “Hang in there, Melissa. We’ll get through this.”

“I sure hope so. You can call me on my private line- that’s the number you reached me at yesterday.”

She walked back to the coffee table, hastily picked up her purse, and held it in front of her, waist-high.

The accessory defense.

I said, “Is there anything else?”

“No,” she said, glancing at the door. “Guess we’ve covered plenty, haven’t we?”

“We had plenty to catch up on.”

We walked to the door.

She turned the knob and said, “Well, thanks again, Dr. Delaware.”

Tight voice. Tight shoulders. More tense than when she’d come in.

I said, “Are you sure there’s nothing else you want to talk about, Melissa? There’s no rush. I’ve got plenty of time.”

She stared at me. Then her eyes slammed shut like security shutters and her shoulders dropped.

“It’s him,” she said, in a very small voice. “McCloskey. He’s back- in L.A. Totally free and I don’t know what he’ll do!”

8

I brought her back inside and sat her down.

She said, “I was going to mention it at the start but…”

“It gives a whole different dimension to your fear of leaving.”

“Yes, but to be honest, I’d be worried even without him. He just adds to it.”

“When did you find out he was back?”

“Last month. There was this show on TV, some documentary about the Victim’s Bill of Rights- how in some states the family can write away to the prison and they’ll tell you when the criminal is coming up for a parole hearing. So you can protest. I knew he’d gotten out- years ago- and had moved away. But I wrote anyway, trying to see if there was anything more I could learn- I guess it was part of the same thing. Trying to help her. The prison took a long time to write back, then told me to get in touch with the Parole Department. That was a real hassle- talking to the wrong people, being put on hold. In the end I had to submit a written request for information. Finally I got through and found out the name of his last parole officer. Here in L.A.! Only he wasn’t seeing him anymore- McCloskey had just gone off parole.”

“How long’s he been out of prison?”

“Six years. That I found out from Jacob. I’d been bugging him for a while, wanting to know- wanting to understand. He kept putting me off, but I wouldn’t give up. Finally, when I was fifteen he admitted he’d been keeping an eye on McCloskey the whole time, had found out he’d been released a couple of years before and had left the state.”

She made tiny white fists and shook them. “The creep served thirteen years out of a twenty-three-year sentence- time off for good behavior. That really stinks, doesn’t it? No one cares about the victim. He should have been sent to the gas chamber!”

“Did Jacob know where he’d gone?”

“New Mexico. Then Arizona and, I think, Texas- working with the Indians on the reservation or something. Jacob said he was trying to fool the Parole Department into thinking he was a decent human being and that they’d probably be fooled. And he was right, because they did set him free and now he can do anything he wants. The parole officer was a nice guy, just about ready to retire. His name was Bayliss and he really seemed to care. But he said he was sorry, there was nothing he could do.”

“Does he think McCloskey’s a threat to your mother- or anyone else?”

“He said he had no evidence of that but that he didn’t know. That no one could be sure with someone like him.”

“Has McCloskey tried to contact your mother?”

“No, but what’s to say he won’t? He’s crazy- that kind of craziness doesn’t change overnight, does it?”

“Not usually.”

“So he’s a clear and present danger, isn’t he?”

I had no easy answer for that. Said, “I can see why you’re concerned,” and didn’t like the sound of it.

She said, “Dr. Delaware, how can I leave her? Maybe it’s a sign- his coming back. That I shouldn’t leave. I mean, I can get a good education here. UCLA and USC both accepted me. In the long run, what difference is it going to make?”

Different tune from the one she’d sung just a few moments ago.

“Melissa, a person with your brains can get a good education anywhere. Is there a reason, besides education, that you considered Harvard?”

“I don’t know… maybe it was just ego. Yes, that’s probably what it was- out to show myself I could do it.”

“Any other reason?”

“Well… there’s Noel. He really wants me to go there and I thought it would be- I mean, it is the best college in the country, isn’t it? I figured, why not apply? It was actually kind of a lark. I really didn’t think I was going to get in.” She shook her head. “Sometimes I think it would have been easier being a C student. Fewer choices.”

“Melissa, anyone in your position- the situation with your mother- would be in conflict. And now McCloskey. But the harsh truth is that even if he does pose a danger, you’re not in any position to defend your mother against him.”

“So what are you saying?” she said angrily. “That I should just give up?”

“I’m saying McCloskey should definitely be looked into. By a professional. To find out why he came back, what he’s up to. If he’s judged to be dangerous, there are things that can be done.”

“Like what?”

“Restraining orders. Security precautions. Is your home well guarded?”

“I guess. There’s an alarm system and gates. And the police patrol regularly- there’s so little crime in San Labrador the police are basically just like rent-a-cops. Should we be doing more?”

“Have you told your mother about McCloskey?”

“No, of course not! I didn’t want to freak her out- not with how well she’s been doing.”

“What about your- Mr. Ramp?”