“You should be ashamed of yourself,” Mary shot back, angry, mostly at herself. She’d have to step up her game if she wanted to go toe-to-toe with John Gardner. He played hardball, and she’d been underestimating him at every turn, to her disadvantage, and worse, to Allegra’s. The police siren screamed as it came closer, the cruiser probably pulling in front of the gate.
Judy touched her arm. “Mary, let’s go back to the car. We’re wasting our time and we’ll see them in court.”
“No, I’m not finished,” Mary said, through gritted teeth. Tears that she couldn’t explain came to her eyes. “John, what are you thinking? You’re ruining your daughter’s life, don’t you see that?”
“How dare you!” John’s eyes flared in anger, and Patel took a protective step closer to him.
“Mare, we should go.” Judy squeezed Mary’s arm, but she pulled it away and stepped closer to John, barely in control.
“You’re making her crazy, John!” Mary shouted, though a black police cruiser with gold stripes was already driving down the gravel road toward them, its siren drowning out her words. “Taking her from her home, from the things she loves, like those bees! Why, for asking questions? For caring about her sister? A good father would be proud of her!”
“I am a good father! I love my daughter!” John shouted back, heedless of Patel at his side.
“You treat her like property, she said it herself!” Mary felt Judy’s hand on her arm, but ignored it. “You put her away to shut her up!”
“I put her away to save her life!” John yelled, his face flushing and every vein in his neck bulging. “She tried to kill herself, did she tell you that? No, of course not! That’s why she came home! That’s why she left school!”
“What?” Mary said, stunned. She thought she heard him wrong, the siren was so loud.
“Allegra tried to kill herself, a month ago, and I don’t want her to try it again!” John seemed suddenly to falter, stepping backwards, and Patel tugged him away by the elbow.
“Mare, please, let’s go.” Judy pulled a stricken Mary away as the cruiser stopped and cut its sirens, plunging them all into merciful silence. Two officers in black uniforms sprung from the front seat, a skinny one and the heavyset driver, who waved at John in an official way.
“Mr. Gardner, Mr. Patel, we’ll take it from here!”
“Thanks, Will!” Patel called back, hustling John back to the Escalade. “Escort them off the property, if you would. We won’t press charges, this time.”
“Will do, Mr. Patel. We’ll be in afterwards to take a statement. Ladies, come with us, please.” The heavyset officer gestured, John and Patel disappeared inside the white Escalade, and a shaken Mary and Judy found themselves hustled into the backseat of a squad car, where they were driven out through the gate, and after producing ID and given a stern lecture, were returned to their car, where they finally spoke to each other.
“My God, she tried to commit suicide?” Mary turned to Judy, sickened and confused.
“It’s awful, but look what I found.” Judy’s lips parted in surprise, and she held out a crumpled piece of scrap paper about the size of a business card. “This was on my seat, just now. Somebody must’ve put it in the car while we were gone.”
Mary looked down in astonishment. On the paper was scribbled in crude handwriting.
Allegra at Churchill Institute, Sinking Spring
Judy sighed sadly. “I know what you’re thinking, but do me a favor. Drive up the road and park. We need to talk.”
Chapter Twenty-two
Mary leaned against the BMW, folding her arms across her chest. They’d driven deeper into the countryside and parked along a quiet road. Rows of low, leafy green crops blanketed the surrounding fields, and the humidity had increased, bringing up the oddly chemical odor of fertilizer. The sun burned low, dipping behind the mounded treeline and streaking the sky a hazy orange, like the top of an overcooked lasagna.
“You want to go to the Churchill Institute, correct?” Judy asked, but didn’t wait for an answer, gesturing as she paced at the side of the road, in professor mode. “I don’t know if I want to do that, not yet. First, it’s so late, almost six o’clock.”
“Sinking Spring is only an hour away,” Mary said, though in truth, she felt confused after what happened and was grateful for the chance to talk with Judy. “We can be there after dinner.”
“How do you know that?”
“I grew up in Pennsylvania, even if I’ve never been beyond 45th Street.”
“Have you heard of the Churchill Institute?”
“No, but I assume it’s a private psychiatric hospital, but you could look that up with your trusty iPhone.”
“What if they don’t have visiting hours that late?”
“That’s also knowable, but I bet they do. This isn’t a normal visit, anyway. They’d let her see her attorneys in an emergency. Didn’t you say she has that as one of her rights?”
“Only if the Patient’s Bill of Rights applies to her, and if the Churchill Institute allows it, I assume.” Judy shook her head, pacing. “That’s what I mean. We have to get our act together, and after what John told us about Allegra’s attempting suicide, I’m not so sure we’re in the right anymore. Hear me out.”
“Okay.” Mary had known Judy long enough to expect her to react this way and she couldn’t say that Judy was wrong.
“Before, we probably had a winning argument on whether Allegra should be in an inpatient facility. Now it’s clear that we need more facts before we make that argument, much less win it.”
Mary counted herself lucky in having a best friend like Judy, who didn’t say I-told-you-so when she could have.
“If Allegra attempted suicide a month ago, she clearly qualifies as being a danger to herself, even under the adult standard for involuntary commitment.” Judy frowned, her head down as she paced. The short strands of hair at her crown blew in the soft breeze, waving like a pale yellow fan. “I don’t want to risk that girl’s life by removing her from residential care that she might need, and I know you don’t, either. The suicide attempt changes everything.”
Mary didn’t know if she could agree, but her feelings were mixed. “I understand why you say that, and we do need to know more. But part of me still wonders why, if she attempted suicide a month ago, he’s committing her now. It’s because of us, not the attempt.”
“I’m not saying her hiring us wasn’t the precipitating factor.” Judy stopped pacing and turned to Mary, pursing her lips. “I think it could’ve been, but the Gardners view this differently than we do, obviously because of her suicide attempt. They see her going to a lawyer as an escalation of her obsession and they worry that if it keeps increasing, she might try to commit suicide again. Do you understand that?”
“Yes,” Mary answered.
“I worry about that, too. Do you?”
“Yes, I do.” Mary exhaled, gathering her thoughts. “But we have an obligation to her, as her lawyers. You’re not suggesting we drop the case, are you?”
“Not sure yet. Maybe.”
“Uh-oh.” Mary hated disagreeing with Judy, because Judy had such good judgment, and they agreed on everything except wardrobe. “There’s no way in the world I want to drop her, and I don’t think we could even do that, ethically.”
“Why not?” Judy put her hands on her hips, cocking her head. “If she’s so depressed or mentally ill that she’s incompetent to hire counsel, that releases any ethical obligation we have to continue. To me, it also releases any moral obligation, because continuing to represent her only harms her further, rather than helping her.”
“We don’t know that yet.”
“True, we don’t. But it’s certainly possible.” Judy’s blue eyes flashed with concern. “Also, I know it’s not about the money, but if we’re not getting paid at all, is this really the case you want to take on, right after you make partner? Think about how Bennie would feel about it. We’re looking at a long, complicated legal pr
ocess, which isn’t even in our practice field, for free. How will you sell it to her? Do you want to?”
“I do,” Mary answered with certainty. “Bennie might throw a fit, but I’m entitled to have a passion project. She has plenty. And in my opinion, part of being a partner is making that assessment yourself.”
“Okay.” Judy’s expression softened. “You might be right about that. It is your choice, but here’s what you have to ask yourself—what’s going on with you and this case?”
Mary’s mouth went dry, knowing that Judy was cutting close to the bone.
“Mare, I’ve never, in all the time I’ve known you, seen you lose your temper like you did back there. Mind you, you always get emotionally involved with cases, you get emotionally involved with everything.” Judy threw up her hands, with a crooked smile. “That’s one of the things I love about you. But this time, something is going on I don’t understand. You want to talk about it?”
“Honestly, I just feel for that kid. I feel for her relationship to her sister, too. Maybe it has to do with Angie, or Mike, maybe it doesn’t.” Mary wiped her brow, which was slightly sweaty. “I’m not sure exactly what it’s about yet, but I don’t think it’s the worst thing in the world to identify with the client, especially when no one else around her seems to, in her own family.”
Judy fell silent a minute. “So what do you want to do?”
“You know what I want to do. I want to go over to the Churchill Institute tonight and see if we can meet with Allegra, no matter how late it is. It doesn’t mean were rushing into court, but I want her to know that we care about her and we’re here for her.” Mary felt her words resonate in her chest. “I want to look at her and hear her talk, and know she’s okay.”
“You don’t see this as riding to the rescue? Because Allegra may not need rescuing. In fact, it might be that she’s exactly where she needs to be right now.”
“I agree, but doesn’t this note make a difference to you?” Mary waved the little piece of scrap paper like a flag. “Somebody wants us to help Allegra, don’t you think?”
“I know, that’s weird.” Judy nodded. “Do you have any idea who put it in the car?”
“No, and if everything’s so hunky-dory at the Gardners’, why would somebody slip us this note?”
“You said you heard a noise, but did you see anything or anybody?”
“No, not at all.” Mary felt mystified. “It could be anybody who lives or works there. I don’t know the cast of characters well enough. All I know is that somebody on the inside is really on our side.”
“There’s no sides.”
“Oh no?” Mary managed a smile. “That’s funny, because John Gardner almost got us arrested. Me, everybody’s favorite good girl, was sitting in the backseat of a squad car.”
Judy laughed, and Mary could see her forehead ease a bit.
“Look, Jude, I promise not to go off half-cocked. I just want to go to the hospital, sit down, talk to her, and see for myself what’s going on. Maybe even talk to her doctor, to understand why she tried to commit suicide.”
“Yikes.” Judy cringed. “That’s so scary, honey. And it’s so personal. It’s privileged information, anyway.”
“Not if she waives it, it isn’t.” Mary caught herself. “Let’s not worry about that now. I want to see Allegra and find out what she wants from us, if anything. If she wants us to proceed, then I want to proceed. If she doesn’t, I want to know that too.”
Judy nodded, slowly. “But you haven’t addressed the open question.”
“What?” Mary heard her phone chime in her pocket, signaling an incoming text, but she ignored it. “Go ahead.”
“Check the text. You never know, it might be Allegra or Lou.”
“I bet it’s Anthony.” Mary slid out her phone and checked the text, which was from Anthony, reading, Can you let me know now? Sanchez leaves for weekend if we’re not on. She felt a guilty pang. “It’s Anthony, about the drinks.”
“Feel free to answer him.”
“Sorry.” Mary texted back, okay to Friday, love u but don’t wait up tonight. She hit Send and stuck the phone back into her pocket. “Now what were you saying?”
“What if Allegra wants us to proceed, but after we meet with her or her doctor, we don’t think that’s in her best interests?”
Mary looked at her best friend and swallowed hard.
Chapter Twenty-three
“We’re Mary DiNunzio and Judy Carrier, attorneys for Allegra Gardner,” Mary told the older receptionist, who if she was surprised, didn’t let it show. “I believe she was admitted earlier today. We’d like to meet with our client.”
“Welcome to our campus, ladies,” the receptionist said, her tone professionally pleasant. It must’ve been the end of her shift, because she looked weary, with kind brown eyes that sloped down at the corners, a freckled nose, and a wrinkled smile that seemed forced, at this hour. “Does she have you on her visitors’ list?”
“I’m not sure, I expect so.” Mary didn’t elaborate, keeping the drama to a minimum. She and Judy had decided that their goal was to see Allegra, and it wouldn’t help to complicate the situation.
“Let me just check our records a moment.” The receptionist swiveled her ergonomic chair to the computer and started hitting keys.
Mary and Judy killed time by taking in the so-called Pavilion, a large, modern circular building with glass on all sides. It looked like a ritzy corporate center, with walls painted a warm golden hue, soft sectional chairs in a brown tweed, and a sisal floor covering. Mary remembered from the website that the Pavilion housed administrative offices, a dining room, a common living room, a cozy library, and ten bedrooms that served as temporary residences for new patients, after intake. It seemed quiet, still, and empty, probably because it was after business hours.
“Here she is.” The receptionist read the monitor, running her fingers through her short, graying hair. “And yes, I see both of your names on her visitors’ list, so you may visit with her tonight.”
“Terrific, thanks.” Mary breathed an inward sigh of relief.
“That’s funny,” the receptionist said, half to herself, frowning at the screen. “You’re the only two people on her list.”
“We’re her only two lawyers.”
“It’s just that usually, there’s family—” The receptionist stopped herself from finishing the sentence, and Mary didn’t have to look at Judy to know that they were both thinking the same thing. Allegra hadn’t specified her family on her visitors’ list, so maybe there were sides, after all, but Mary wasn’t the kind of girlfriend to say I-told-you-so, either.
The receptionist cleared her throat. “As I was saying, I see that Ms. Gardner was admitted to our Adolescent Diagnostic and Treatment Unit, and visiting hours for ADTU end at eight o’clock.” The receptionist’s gaze shifted to the institutional clock on the wall, which read seven thirty. “So you have about half an hour.”
“No problem. Where do we meet with her? Do we go to her room, or how does that work?”
“Oh, no.” The receptionist gestured behind her. “I’ll have her brought up, and if she wants to meet with you, we have private rooms off of the sitting area which we reserve for that purpose.”
“Okay, thank you.”
“Excuse me a sec while I call.” The receptionist picked up the receiver of her beige desk phone and pressed a few buttons. “Morty? I have a Ms. DiNunzio and a Ms. Carrier to see Ms. Gardner. She’s the new one, in Room Seven. If she’s available and wants to visit, could you bring her up? Thanks.” The receptionist hung up the phone and glanced up at Mary and Judy. “I’ll get a call back, if she’s not coming. In the meantime, may I have your IDs, such as a driver’s license?”
“Of course.” Mary dug in her purse for her wallet and fished out her ID, while Judy did the same, then they passed them across the counter, which was a glistening curve of butterscotch granite topping a modern desk of blondish wood. The receptionist began to enter
Mary’s information in the computer, and Judy leaned over the counter.
“Can you tell us a little about the hospital?”
“Certainly. I’ve been here since it opened, twenty-eight years ago, so I know just about everything.”
“I saw the plaque coming in, which shows that it’s ranked in the top ten freestanding psychiatric hospitals in the country, by U.S. News & World Report.”
Listening, Mary knew that Judy was already lobbying for leaving Allegra, but she didn’t mind hearing a sales pitch, either.
“Here at Churchill Institute, we provide twenty-four-hour care, seven days a week, unlocked, on seventy-eight wooded acres, with trails and the like.” The receptionist moved on to Judy’s driver’s license. “We have twenty-five psychiatrists for two hundred patients, and eight separate buildings, excluding the pool and gym, which is in its own building.”
Judy nodded politely. “What sort of therapy do you offer someone like Allegra, in ADTU? Does she have a specific psychiatrist and who would that be?”
“We’re not permitted to give out information like that with respect to any particular patient, however in general, our patients have a team that includes doctors, nurses, mental health specialists, and a clinical case manager.” The receptionist finished entering their information and hit a button to print two visitors’ stickers. “We have an array of therapies in our arsenal, individual, cognitive behavioral, and dialectical behavioral therapy or DBT, which helps our adolescents identify triggers to stress and aids them in developing methods to cope with self-destructive behaviors. Of course, we offer family therapy and psychopharmacology, which is administered after a thorough evaluation by a team of child psychiatrists.”
“I read on the website that patients are evaluated upon intake.” Judy had read aloud to Mary, on the way over. “Would an adolescent patient have a diagnosis, this early in the game?”
“Generally, yes, but it’s not a given. It depends on whether the appropriate staff members are available to do the evaluation upon intake, but every adolescent will be seen in the first seventy-two hours, without exception, and they will receive a psychiatric and psychosocial assessment and an individualized treatment plan is established.” The receptionist handed Mary and Judy adhesive name tags in gold-and-white, evidently the school colors. “Many of our adolescents deal with depression and anxiety, peer victimization, self injury, suicidal ideation, school avoidance, obsessive-compulsive disorders and the like, and we also have separate units which treat eating disorders and substance abuse.”
Accused: A Rosato & Associates Novel Page 16
