Accused: A Rosato & Associates Novel

by Lisa Scottoline

  “I see, thanks.” Judy and Mary stickered themselves, just as a delighted shout came from down the hallway.

  “Mary, Judy!”

  Mary turned to see Allegra leaving her escort behind in the hallway and running toward them in her new bee T-shirt, baggy jeans, and Converse sneakers, with a wan smile, her skinny arms outstretched, and her hair flying out behind her.

  “Allegra!” Mary called back, her heart lifting at the sight, and on impulse, she ran to Allegra, scooped her up in her arms, and swung her around. It was then that she spotted Judy.

  And her best friend wasn’t smiling.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  They were shown into a small, private sitting room that contained more brownish sectional furniture, a glass coffee table, and air that smelled vaguely lemony. The room had a paneled door that closed, but a window in the top half revealed the escort in scrubs, who sat just outside the door, lingering discreetly. Mary couldn’t help but think back to interviewing Lonnie Stall at the prison, with the guard who remained stationed outside the door. She knew as an intellectual matter that the two institutions were very different, but at heart, it felt like the differences were a matter of style, not substance.

  “You guys have to get me out of here, as soon as you can,” Allegra said, before they’d even sat down. She perched on the edge of her chair, kneading her long fingers in her lap. “This is ridiculous. I don’t need to be here. What can you do to get me out of here?”

  Mary avoided Judy’s eye. “I know it’s hard, but try to stay calm. There are things we can do, if that’s what’s best for you and—”

  “Of course that’s what’s best for me! What are the things you can do? This is like a nightmare! I don’t need to be here, they tricked me to get me here.” Allegra spoke more quickly then she did normally, and her forehead knotted with anxiety. “They told me we were going to Shadwell Apiary, a really big bee operation near here, so we could see it and use it as a model to set up my hives, then all of a sudden, they pulled into this driveway. It’s a good thing I had my phone with me, or you wouldn’t have even known!”

  Mary felt terrible for Allegra, to be betrayed by her own parents, but she had to keep her eyes on the legal ball. “Let me ask you a few questions first. Did they evaluate you when you came in, like did you receive some kind of diagnosis?”

  “No, they said the main guy wasn’t here. Dr. Argenti, he’s like a specialist, but it doesn’t matter. I want to get out of here. Thank God for you guys.” Allegra brightened, and her forehead eased. “I knew you’d come, that’s why I put you on the visitor sheet. I really appreciate you’re trying to help me.”

  “You didn’t put your family on the visitors’ list, we heard.”

  “Why would I? They’re the last people I want to see! I can’t believe they did this to me.” Allegra’s eyebrows sloped down, and her voice broke. “I mean, I’m used to being away from home and all, but this is so weird. It’s not a school, it’s a mental hospital.”

  “They’re just trying to help people, honey. All illness needs treatment.”

  “I know, I just never knew they really thought I was crazy, not really.” Allegra’s eyes filmed, and her bottom lip trembled. “It just makes me sad, like they think I’m not even worth having at home.”

  “I understand.” Mary got up and gave her a quick hug, unable to restrain herself anymore. “This is the thing you have to understand, honey. Your parents believe that they’re helping you. They just go about it in a way you won’t always agree with, or understand. People make mistakes, and you have to forgive them that. That’s part of being a human being. Okay?”

  “Yes.” Allegra hung her head, so Mary gave her a final squeeze and sat down next to Judy, whose expression remained impassive. Allegra sniffled, just the slightest. “You remind me so much of Fiona. She always tried to see the best in people. She used to fight with my parents a lot, especially my mom, but she was always like, they’re trying to do the right thing they’re just idiots.”

  “There you go. That’s one way to think about it.” Mary smiled, touched by the comparison to Fiona.

  “So how do we get me out of here? And I know that money is important, so don’t worry, we’ll just add onto the bill from the trust.”

  Mary hesitated. “We’re not worried about money, but you should know your father spoke to the trustee of your grandfather’s trust, and they stopped payment on your retainer.”

  Allegra frowned. “I don’t have a retainer. I don’t get my braces off for another year.”

  Mary avoided Judy’s eye. “I mean the $5,000 check you wrote us. The trustee stopped payment on it.”

  “Oh no, I’m so sorry.” Allegra’s expression darkened. “My dad, he must’ve done this, so I couldn’t hire you. I promise you guys, when I get out, I’ll make sure you get paid, don’t worry about it.”

  “We’re not worried about it.” Mary thought a minute. “Allegra, we’re here for you and we want to help you. I wish I could get you out of here tonight, but we have to be responsible and think about what’s in your best interests.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Allegra asked, wounded, and Mary tried a more diplomatic tack.

  “There is a legal procedure by which you can object to your treatment, and to do that, we have to file a petition with the court and prove that being here isn’t the least restrictive alternative for you. In other words, we would have to prove that you could be treated as effectively on an outpatient basis.”

  “Okay, let’s do that.”

  “We don’t have all the facts we need, though. For example, how long have you been home?”

  “About a month.”

  “Were you seeing a therapist at home, at all?”

  “No, not yet. My parents wanted me to see someone in the city, but I haven’t gone yet.”

  “Did you see a therapist at school?”

  “Yes, in the beginning, I went twice a week, but now we’re down to once a week.”

  “Who was the therapist and what do you think of him or her?”

  “It was a woman and her name was Lydia Bright, and I liked her. It was nice to go and talk to her, but I was ready to phase it out anyway.” Allegra perched forward in the chair. “Like I told you guys, I know I was depressed by Fiona’s murder, but the more I started to think about doing something about it, like hiring somebody to solve it, I started to feel better.”

  Mary paused, not knowing if she should bring up the issue. “Allegra, we did go to your house to talk to your parents before we came here, and they told us that they brought you here because they were afraid for your life, that you would be a danger to yourself. They told us you had tried to commit suicide.”

  Allegra flushed. “Oh. That’s embarrassing.”

  “There’s no reason in the world you should be embarrassed by that. It’s okay to have whatever emotion you have, even the darkest.” Mary paused. “You know, I didn’t mention this to you, but one of the reasons I understand you as well as I do is that my husband, my first husband, was murdered, a long time ago.”

  Allegra’s eyes flared slightly, and Judy stirred, but didn’t interrupt.

  “Afterwards, I was very sad, I felt awful. Couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, was having dark thoughts. I didn’t try to kill myself, but there were one or two nights when it didn’t seem like the worst idea in the world.” Mary had never told anyone that, not even Judy. “So you shouldn’t be ashamed that you felt that way. It just shows that we have a heart, and sometimes things are harder than we can bear.”

  “That’s true.” Allegra swallowed visibly, her little Adam’s apple going up and down in her skinny neck.

  “The reason I tell you the story is to tell you that I understand. And under the law, if someone is a danger to themselves, they meet the standard for involuntary civil commitment, particularly if there has been a suicide attempt in the past month, as there was with you.”

  Allegra emitted a tiny sigh, like the last air deflating fr
om a birthday balloon.

  “So you understand. If we went into court now, on these facts, to try and get you released, we would lose”—Mary could see she was upset, so she added—“and both of us want what’s best for you, not only as your lawyers, as a personal matter. If they didn’t have a chance to give you a diagnosis yet, then we both think the better course is for you to stay here, get your diagnosis and treatment plan, then we can all take it from there.”

  Allegra’s eyes filmed again. “It’s like I’m being punished.”

  “No, you’re not being punished. But a judge looks at the case objectively, and because you’re a minor, and so young, they’re really going to look out for you. They are going to do what they think is right for you, even if you don’t agree.”

  “But I don’t really want to kill myself. I didn’t really think I would die.” Allegra’s tone dropped suddenly, so hushed that Mary almost couldn’t hear her.

  “What made you do it, honey? Can I ask, or does that upset you?”

  “You can ask, and it doesn’t upset me.” Allegra’s tone strengthened. “I had a really big fight on the phone with my dad, because I told him that when I turned thirteen, I was going to hire a lawyer with my trust money, and he freaked out. He said a lot of things, bad things that hurt my feelings.” Allegra’s bottom lip trembled again, but she kept it together.

  Mary wondered what Allegra’s father had said, wishing she’d decked him on the driveway.

  “My mom didn’t say anything, she didn’t even get on the phone, but that’s nothing new. Ever since Fiona died, my mom has been, like, a wreck. She started drinking, and now she stopped, but still, she’s just, I don’t know.” Allegra faltered. “It’s like she checked out, like I don’t have a mom anymore. He runs the show.”

  Mary didn’t say anything, because Allegra needed no encouragement to talk, speaking directly from a heart that sounded broken.

  “So after the fight, that night, I just didn’t think that even if I had the money it would make any difference, that I would never know what really happened to Fiona, and that I didn’t really have anybody who understood me, or got me, or even wanted me.” Allegra swallowed again. “It just seemed like nothing was ever going to change, so I guess, I just, well, I took the pills that Dr. Bright gave me, all of them.”

  “Were you on meds?” Mary asked, gently.

  “I was already weaning off of them, which is why they think it happened. Me, too. The drugs are whack.” Allegra pursed her lips. “They’re such a pain, the meds, getting the right one and the dosages. And sometimes they make you sleepy or not think straight, or more depressed than you were before.”

  “I bet,” Mary said, sympathetically. “So what did you take?”

  “It was only Wellbutrin, and all they did was make me sick, and the assistant headmaster found me and got me to the hospital, where they pumped my stomach. It was a pretty big deal, I guess, and my parents fired Dr. Bright and flew up and brought me home.” Allegra straightened up, seemingly an act of will, to cheer up. “Then I started to feel a lot better, when I was home. I was in my room, I had my hives, and I saw that I could do what I wanted to with the trust money and I started to feel better. I would never try to kill myself, not really, not ever again. I swear it. If they let me out of here, I will tell the court that. I could explain everything in a way that a judge could understand. You could put me on the witness stand, and I know I could convince him.”

  Mary patted her hand. “I’m sure you could and I’d bet on you in a minute. But the question is, as lawyers, when is the best time to go to court, and now is not the best time.”

  “No?” Allegra asked, but it came out like a moan.

  “No, I’m sorry.” Mary couldn’t stand seeing her so forlorn. “But we all want the same thing, which is you happy and healthy, and back home. And in the meantime, Judy and I don’t have to be idle. We can go forward like we were before. We could still keep going on our investigation of Fiona’s murder. We met today with Lonnie Stall and with his lawyer Bill Brandt.”

  “You did?” Allegra asked, surprised. “That’s so cool, what did they say?”

  Mary thought about Allegra’s letters to Lonnie Stall, but this wasn’t the time to bring that up. “Bottom line, Lonnie Stall says he’s innocent, and his lawyer concedes that he may have not given him the best representation.”

  “Is that good?”

  “Yes.” Mary didn’t go into the legal niceties of ineffectiveness of counsel. They didn’t have that much time, and she could already see the guard at the door. “But Lonnie also says that he didn’t have a relationship with Fiona at all.”

  “Just what he said in court.”

  “Right.”

  “Why is he lying?”

  “I don’t know.” Mary let it go. “We also met with Tim Gage, who didn’t tell us much, because he wasn’t at the party that night and—”

  “Tim was at the party. I saw him.”

  “What?”

  Allegra blinked. “Tim was at the party the night Fiona was killed. I know, I saw them together.”

  Mary and Judy exchanged glances, equally mystified. “Where did you see them, do you remember?”

  “Not very well, but I think they were outside, out back, by the back exit. If you knew the offices, you’d understand. I could draw you a picture.”

  “Not now, we don’t have time. Just tell me what you remember.”

  “Okay.” Allegra frowned in thought. “I remember because my mom and I went looking for Fiona and I found her friends, and not her, and they said she was outside.”

  “So your mom saw Fiona?”

  “I don’t know. I just know I did, and she told me they broke up, or something.” Allegra scratched her head. “I don’t know how much I remember. I just know I saw Tim, and that I got the idea that I wasn’t supposed to be there, like she waved me away, or something. Whatever, I saw him there.”

  “Were they fighting?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do you know why he would lie to us about that?”

  “No.” Allegra looked stumped. “Why is everybody lying?”

  “Could you remember wrong?”

  “No.”

  Mary didn’t dare look over at Judy, who was undoubtedly thinking that it was more likely that an almost seven-year-old Allegra was remembering wrong or imagining things, than that everybody was lying. “Were the friends Sue Winston, Mary Weiss, and Honor Jason, and Hannah Wicker?”

  “Yes, they were there. Three of them were killed, though, in the accident. It’s so sad.”

  “We know, Tim told us. But there is one friend, Hannah Wicker, whom he mentioned survived. Do you know where she is?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Was she close to Fiona?”

  “Not as close as the others, but in the group. She came over our house a lot. She was a great rider and she used to exercise Paladin, my mom’s horse.”

  Mary thought a minute. “Allegra, let me switch gears for a minute and ask you something. Who are you close to at home?”

  “Nobody, really.”

  Mary couldn’t even imagine what that felt like. “Who’s in the house on a regular basis, including staff? Is Janet Wolsey there?”

  “Yes. How do you know about Janet?”

  “Tim told us. How do you get along with her?”

  “Great, she’s wonderful.” Allegra smiled. “She’s so nice and she practically raised me, after Fiona died. She really loved Fiona, too, and I guess I’m close to Alasdair, too.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “Alasdair Leahy, our caretaker.”

  “Do you know where he lives?”

  “Sure, in a house on the property. He’s been with us for a long time, too, since I was little. He used to drive me to school and stuff, if my mom was drinking.” Allegra flushed again. “I feel bad, telling you about that. Don’t tell anybody, okay?”

  “Of course.”

  “Alasdair is great. He does the s
tables and takes care of the roses, too. He knows everything about horses. He’s super handy, though now that he’s older, his back hurts.”

  “And how about Janet? Where does she live?”

  “She has a room in her own quarters in the house.”

  Mary got an idea. “Let me ask you something. Was Alasdair or Janet at the opening party, by any chance, the night Fiona was killed?”

  “Yes, they were both there. They’re like family.”

  Mary made a mental note, and she knew Judy would, too. “Let’s switch gears a minute. How about down at the cottage? How does that work? Who’s there?”

  “About six people, like secretaries and stuff. The main secretary, I guess she is like an office administrator, is Millie Marco. She’s been there a long time, too.”

  “Was Millie at the party, the night Fiona was killed?”

  “I don’t remember, but she would’ve been there. I’m not as close to the people in the cottage. Fiona used to work there after school, doing filing and stuff, but I was too little. My uncles sometimes come over and work in the cottage, when they don’t need to go into town. They don’t like the drive and it’s easier.”

  “Tim Gage told us that, at the time Fiona was murdered, she was working on a big project for your uncle Richard, and that he’s really nice. Can you tell me anything about that?”

  Allegra shook her head. “No, I don’t know what she was working on when she was down there. Just knew she worked there, and my dad always paid her, which she liked.”

  “When she was working down there, would you be at the house?”