Inside Out (29 page)

Bishop Michaelson remained remarkably poised. “Alan came to me that day and told me that, after a lengthy and soul-searching conversation with Father Joe, he had decided to leave the church.”

Nat caught another shared glance between Leo and Oates.

“Why come forward now?” Leo asked.

“I would have come forward sooner had I known the Father was in need of an alibi for that time.” Forest had lifted his head and was looking directly at Leo. “When I read in the paper that Father Joe had committed suicide, there was nothing in the article about him being a suspect in a criminal investigation. I merely thought he was depressed. I even worried that Pd contributed to that depression. I had no idea until today, when the bishop came to see me in Waltham, where I’ve been staying with my mother—”

The bishop interrupted: “I arrived back from a weeklong conference in Washington last night. As is invariably the case, there was a pile of messages on my desk waiting for me upon my return. As it turned out, half a dozen of them were from Melissa Raymond.”

Leo scowled. “Father Joe’s housekeeper?”

“I phoned her first thing this morning. I’ve known Melissa since she was a child. She was extremely distraught. She told me this fantastic story about Father Joe having been accused of brutally stabbing a woman nearly to death—I couldn’t believe it.” Leo cocked his head. “You knew he’d hanged himself.”

The bishop nodded. “Priests are not immune to severe depression, Detective Coscarelli. I wish to God I had known what was troubling him.”

Nat felt herself stiffen with anger. She could certainly give the bishop an earful. Despite this affirmation of Father Joe’s innocence regarding the September 27 attack on Lynn, raping her when she was in prison gave the priest plenty-enough reason to feel troubled. Or maybe the only thing that really had troubled Father Joe was that, thanks to Suzanne, they were on to him. The bishop continued after a brief pause. “I checked the date in my daily diary and saw Alan’s name penciled in for the twenty-seventh. I remembered that exceedingly emotional meeting we’d had and phoned Alan. He agreed to give a statement to the police and asked if I would accompany him. So here we are.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to remember,” Lynn said earnestly. “But it’s still a total blank.”

Carrie Li came into the room, greeted Nat warmly, nodded at Leo, then stepped over to her patient’s bed.

“How are you feeling?” Carrie asked, tapping two capsules from a tiny paper cup into Lynn’s palm.

“Still a little dizzy.” Lynn popped the pills into her mouth while Carrie picked up the plastic glass of water, deposited a fresh straw into it, and brought the straw to Lynn’s chapped lips.

“What are those pills for?” Nat asked.

“One is for pain, the other’s for anxiety,” Carrie said.

“Maybe the drugs are making her dizzy,” Leo suggested.

And, Nat was sure he was thinking, keeping her memory cloudy.

“It’s possible. Dr. Madison did cut back on the pain meds yesterday. And I have a call in to Dr. Varda who prescribed the Zoloft to see if he wants to reevaluate the dosage.”

Lynn shut her eyes. “Dr. Varda’s been trying to prepare me for how I’ll look when . . . when the bandages finally come off. I keep telling myself I can handle it. I have to keep reminding myself I’m lucky even to be alive. Dr. Madison says it’s a miracle I pulled through. So ... I won’t be . . .” She stopped, her lips trembling as she fought back tears. “. . . Pretty . . . anymore. Big deal.”

She managed a faint smile, her eyes opening, coming to rest on Nat. “Women. We’re so vain.”

Carrie Li rested a hand lightly on Lynn’s shoulder. “It’ll take time, Lynn, but you do remember that Dr. Madison told you a lot can be done with plastic surgery. Of course, you’ll have to go through a long series of ordeals—”

“I’ve already been through the worst ordeal,” Lynn said hoarsely. “And I don’t mean what’s just happened to me.”

Nat stepped a little closer to the hospital bed. “Are you talking about your time at Grafton, Lynn?” she asked softly.

“I’m talking about before that. Before prison. Even before Matthew. The worst ordeal was having to live most of my life in the wrong body. Nothing can be worse than that. I’d rather live the rest of my life as a hideously disfigured woman than be imprisoned in a handsome man’s body.”

Carrie Li smoothed a damp strand of Lynn’s hair from her forehead. “You won’t be hideously disfigured,” she said with a professional assurance. “I’ll stop by later.”

“Carrie?” Nat called out as the nurse started to exit the room. “I was wondering if Harrison Bell has phoned or dropped by again.”

“No,” the nurse said. “He hasn’t.”

Nat looked over at Lynn, saw the flash of disappointment on her face. Or was the feeling deeper than disappointment?

“Leo, why don’t you see if you can track down Dr. Madison?” Nat said. “Find out when she plans to move Lynn out of ICU?”

Nat was prepared for an argument, but she didn’t get one. Maybe Leo realized she stood a better chance talking alone with Lynn.

When the two women were alone, Nat pulled up a chair beside the bed. She noticed that Lynn’s eyes were beginning to take on a glassy look. The medication was taking hold of her. Pretty soon she’d be out like a light.

“I saw Harrison today, Lynn. Maybe he hasn’t called, but I know he’s very concerned about how you’re doing.”

“Is he?” she asked weakly. “Tell him . . . Tell him I’ll be fine.” “Do you want to see him?”

She shook her head. “No. Not like this. Not the way I look now.”

“Are you afraid he won’t want you now that you’ve been injured?”

Lynn didn’t respond.

“You’re in love with him.”

“No.”

“Did you break it off with him because his wife found out?” “I’m sleepy.”

“Lynn, you do remember ending the affair. In Harrison’s office. The two of you were overheard. He was very upset, Lynn. You do remember that.”

“I didn’t want to hurt him. But it wasn’t right. It wasn’t right.”

“His wife knew, didn’t she, Lynn? Did she threaten you? Was it Carol Bell that day in the alleyway? You need to remember, Lynn. Try. Please try.”

Lynn closed her eyes. She was silent for several minutes. Nat thought she must have fallen asleep.

“He asked me to marry him. He . . . begged me. But I said no. I said, ‘No, I can’t.’ I told him I didn’t love him. He wouldn’t believe me. I kept trying to make him understand. But he wouldn’t listen. He got so angry. I know I hurt him. I’m sorry. Please tell him I’m sorry.”

“Lynn—”

“No. No more. Please go away. Please. I need to sleep. Please.”

Suzanne stood at Nat’s office door, nervously clutching her arms, her gaze skidding back and forth between Nat and Leo. She looked like hell. Dark circles under her eyes, hair not only unwashed but uncombed, her beige blouse wrinkled. She had on a pair of slippers, not even having bothered to put on shoes.

“What did you want to see me for?” Her voice had the husky sound of someone who’s just been awakened, yet it was six-fifteen at night. Nat had already had reports by a couple of her officers that Suzanne had been spending much of her time sleeping since she’d been confined to the house. A typical symptom of depression. Nat wondered when the antidepressants Varda had started Suzanne on would kick in.

Leo walked over to her. “We need to talk, Suzanne.” He took firm hold of her shoulder—nothing tender in his touch now— and steered her into the room, shutting the door with the heel of his shoe.

Suzanne looked taken aback by his gruffness. And even more nervous.

“Please sit down, Suzanne,” Nat said, her tone deliberately softer in an effort to quell the inmate’s anxiety. Leo might think he could browbeat her into talking, but Nat didn’t agree. Suzanne was scared. Coming down hard on her would only make her retreat more.

Leo didn’t give Suzanne the opportunity to comply on her own with Nat’s request. He practically pushed her into one of the chairs facing Nat’s desk, then remained standing over her.

Nat wanted to tell him to sit down as well, but she thought he’d bite her head off.

“Okay,” he said, his eyes boring into Suzanne. “Let’s start with Harrison Bell. You knew he and Lynn were having an affair. Lynn told you.” He deliberately made these points as statements, not questions.

Susanne stared down at the floor, hands clenched tightly on her lap.

“He asked her to marry him. She told you about that, too.”

“Is that right, Suzanne?” Nat asked, annoyed with Leo’s drill-sergeant tactics. “Did Lynn tell you Harrison wanted to marry her?”

“He’s already married,” Suzanne mumbled, eyes remaining downcast.

“You got that right, Suzanne. He’s already married,” Leo repeated harshly. “So I guess he’d have had to dump his wife if he was going to marry Lynn. Now, how do you think Carol would feel about that? Getting dumped for someone who wasn’t even
really
a woman?”

Suzanne’s head popped up. She cast Leo an angry look. “Lynn
is
a woman. She’s every bit a woman.”

“Yeah, you roomed with her so you know,” Leo came right back at her. “You know plenty about Lynn. Because you were friends, right? I mean, granted, you looked the other way when Father Joe raped her in the joint. But then, you and the priest had a special relationship.”

Suzanne flinched, her already-ashen complexion going whiter.

“Leo, take it easy,’’ Nat said.

He ignored her, Suzanne’s silence only fueling his anger and frustration.

“I suppose you know we had the priest pegged for carving up your roommate. But guess what, Suzanne? Father Joe had himself an alibi. Not that it’s doing him much good now that he’s ten feet underground. Or should I say, now that he’s in hell? Because taking your own life, according to Catholic doctrine, is a mortal sin. You know that, Suzanne. A priest who commits suicide doesn’t go to heaven. But then, he wouldn’t have gone anyway, since Fd say rape is pretty high up there on the mortal-sins list.” Tears were gushing down Suzanne’s face. “Stop,” she shouted as she started to spring out of her chair, looking desperate to get away. But Leo shoved her back down.

“I know, Suzanne. Right now, you’d like a nice big shot of H to chase all your troubles away. Then you could just float, huh?” Suzanne had tears running down her face but she stared defiantly up at him. “You’re fucking right, Leo. That’s just what I want.”

“And what I want is some answers.”

“I don’t have any,” she screamed at him.

Nat got up, walked around her desk, moved a chair next to Suzanne, and sat down beside her.

“Suzanne, we think we know who’s responsible for what happened to Lynn. And for what happened to you.”

She looked searchingly at Nat.

“Did Lynn talk to you about Carol Bell?”

Suzanne continued eyeing Nat, but didn’t respond.

“Was she scared of Carol Bell?” Nat persisted.

Still no response.

Leo angrily slammed his hand down on the desk, causing both women to jump. “Damn it, Suzanne. She can’t hurt you in here. No one can hurt you in here. Just tell me and I’ll protect you. I won’t let anything else happen to you. I swear—”

“You don’t get it. You just don’t get it.”

“Then help us understand, Suzanne,” Nat said softly. Suzanne put her hands up to her face as wrenching sobs erupted. “I can’t. I can’t.”

Leo knelt in front of her, his fury dissipated. “Okay, Suz. Okay, take it easy. I’m sorry I came down so hard on you.” He gently stroked her hair. “Shhhh,” he soothed, pressing her against his chest.

Now it was all Nat could do not to spring out of her chair and run from the room. But she knew there was no running away from this. No escape from the truth of Leo’s feelings for Suzanne.

Not that either of them would have noticed if she had left. They both seemed oblivious to her presence.

twenty-six

I ask him, “Why does it have to be
so
difficult?” And he answers, “Let me help you. ”

L. I.

"ARE YOU GAME for a gallery opening tonight?” Sharon Johnson asked.

Nat looked up from the overflowing case file of an inmate from Norton who’d been okayed for transfer and was due at Horizon House in two days. “Is it Ray’s work?”

“Well, she’s got a couple of paintings in it. It’s a group show. All women of color. It’s in Cambridge. Lots of free champagKeJ Maybe you’d like to ask Leo to join us.”    *
^!

Nat’s expression must have been answer enough, because Sharon quickly said, “Forget Leo, then.”
I wish:

“Come on,” Sharon coaxed. “It’ll be a girls’ night out.”

Nat looked back down at the backlog of reports and files on her desk that she still needed to review—monthly employer evaluations and program updates on current residents, several files on inmates who had been recommended for prerelease, and two more files on already-approved transfers.

“I know,” Sharon said. “But you need to put a little fun in your life, girl. Besides, Raylene misses you. She thinks they’ve got you hermetically sealed in here.”

“The problem is I haven’t been here enough. I’m so far behind it isn’t funny.”

“No, life hasn’t been a barrel of laughs for you lately, has it? Any progress on the Ingram attack?”

Nat told her employment counselor her theory about the Bells. “And, honey, a woman scorned is a dangerous woman,” Sharon mused. “We’ve both seen enough of them serving time. Usually they do in the cheating husband. But plenty of them throw in the home wrecker for good measure.”

Nat was staring at Sharon, her mind racing.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I wonder if that’s what Carol’s planning.”

“What? To finish off her husband? I don’t know,” Sharon said. “Without him to cast suspicion on, she’d have to worry the focus of the investigation would shift to her.”

“Yes, but that’s just it. If Harrison Bell gets backed into a corner and thinks that he’s going to end up taking the heat for his wife’s crimes, he might very well come clean. And Carol can’t r-jsjt that. She’d counted on the alibis she’d concocted for him, but now that the police have shot holes in those alibis—”