“Bill has wife issues, and I thought you might be the girlfriend. I’m Amelia, by the way.” She extended a plump hand.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Abby.” We shook hands, and it was all I could do to not pull back too quickly. Her flesh was, well... squishy.
“The Abby. Courtney’s Abby?” Her eyes bulged with interest.
I wasn’t sure it was a good idea to admit I was the Abby, but she had my attention. “You know Courtney?”
“Honey, we all know each other in this place. She was hoppin’ mad at you when she was admitted the other day. Screaming and hollerin’ to beat the band once the drugs started to clear her system. You put her in here, right?”
“I think she put herself in,” I answered.
“She has father issues,” Amelia said, nodding.
“What does that mean?” I flipped three cards to start my game.
“Her father got murdered and that poor girl is thinking it’s all her fault. I don’t usually feel sorry for the druggies, but I do for her. Puny thing, too. Needs a big pot of red beans and some boudain.”
“She said her father’s death was her fault?” I asked.
Amelia coughed a few times, then pulled a tissue from her sleeve and spit into it. “Damn asthma. Anyway, Courtney is sorta like Owen—he was here last time I was in. Owen was a druggie with father issues just like Courtney. But I didn’t feel the least bit sorry for him. Especially not after he punched me.”
The last time? And he punched her? Maybe this wasn’t the right person to be talking to.
I was considering wandering back toward Courtney’s room, but Amelia reached across the table and poked me in the chest. “I can tell what you’re thinkin’, and you can just quit passin’ judgment, girl. I have a lithium regulation problem. That’s why I have to be admitted here more than most other folks.”
I stood. “Sure. I understand. And now I think I’ll go see about Courtney.”
“Guilt issues?” she said.
“You mean Courtney?” I said.
“No. You.” She raised her nearly nonexistent eyebrows knowingly.
Now how in hell did she peg me as the guilt-ridden type? I didn’t want to know, so I started down the hall.
“I’ll tell you about Courtney if you’ll sit with me for a spell,” she called.
I stopped.
“Please? I don’t get many visitors.”
I reluctantly returned to the table. Though she might not have reliable information, she obviously paid attention to the patients here. Maybe she knew something.
Amelia gathered up the cards and placed a protective hand over the deck. “Courtney talked plenty yesterday. Cried a lot too—but not that gulpin’, outta-control kinda crying like most first timers. She just needed to talk. She was missing her father, wishing she could have prevented his death. Once the drugs wore off, it’d finally sunk in she’d never see him again.”
“She probably hasn’t been herself for months,” I said, “and I imagine it was pretty tough when she woke up in the real world and had to deal with his murder.”
Amelia smiled. “You ever consider becoming a therapist, girl?”
“No, ma’am. We already have one of those in our family. So tell me your other insights into Courtney.” Her information might not be helpful, but it was sure interesting.
“Things changed when that oddball sister showed up. Courtney got all sad and stoic. You talk about cryin’? That sister was one big whiney, sniveling baby. Sometimes I wonder how I land in here time after time and someone like her gets to walk around like she’s actually normal.”
“She did just lose her father,” I said, wondering why I felt the need to defend Roxanne.
“You’re right. I was being insensitive. See, that’s why people are put off by me. Anyway, I did hear Courtney tell her sister not to do it when the sister was leavin’.”
“Not to do what?”
“I don’t know. Courtney just said, ‘We’ve caused enough trouble, so don’t do it.’ ”
We’ve caused trouble? What did that refer to?
Just then I heard Kate call my name, and a second later she peeked around the corner of the game room. “Hi, Amelia,” she said.
Amelia beamed. “Hi, Dr. Rose. You look so fine today, but then you look fine every time I see you.”
Kate thanked her and then addressed me. “You can see her now. She’s doing pretty well.”
I stood. “Thanks for your help, Amelia.”
She nodded and picked up the cards while I followed Kate.
All the blinds were pulled down in the room, and only one lamp provided light. Courtney sat on the edge of her twin bed, arms wrapped around herself, her gaunt face actually looking healthier than the last time I saw her. Her party-colored hair was clipped back. Gone were the earrings, dark eyeshadow, and heavy makeup. Gone, too, was the wild-eyed mania. She looked younger and sadder.
“Hey,” she said when I entered. She wore blue jeans and a checkered shirt with a lace collar that had Roxanne’s taste in clothing written all over it.
“Hey,” I replied. “Tough couple days, huh?”
She nodded, her gaze focused on her lap.
“Kate said you wouldn’t mind if I talked to you.”
“I’ll talk to you, but not about my sister. I don’t want her to get in trouble.”
“Seems she’s done that all by herself,” I said.
Kate had taken a seat on the empty bed across from Courtney, and I did the same.
“Okay, in any more trouble,” Courtney replied, shades of her old contrary self surfacing.
“I only want to help you—you and your family. A little honesty is required first, though.”
She lifted her head and looked at me for the first time. Her eyes were red rimmed and her nose was running. “You lied, so why I should I trust you?”
“I lied?”
“I know why you and Megan are tight, so you can quit acting like you’re her best friend.”
I looked over at Kate, eyebrows raised.
“Can you please explain, Courtney?” Kate said.
“Why should I? We’re all fucked anyway.” Courtney crossed her leg and her tennis-shoed foot began to bounce. She wiped her nose with one bony hand.
Kate said, “This might be the way out of the mess you’ve made. Abby is pretty good at what she does, and when she says she wants to help, she’s being sincere.”
Courtney stared at Kate for a second. “You mean she’s a good PI?”
“That’s exactly right,” said Kate.
“Both of you are good at your jobs, aren’t you?” Courtney said. “So fucking perfect. And then there’s Roxanne and me. Weirdos. Misfits. That’s who we are.”
“We went over this earlier,” Kate said softly. “No one is perfect. And even if you were, your being perfect will never change anyone else. It wouldn’t have made your father love you any more than he was capable of, and it won’t bring your parents back from their graves.”
If Courtney didn’t start crying I just might. This was heavy stuff. So I focused on what Courtney had said. She knew I was a PI. Had Kate told her? “Did my sister explain about my professional relationship with Megan?”
“No.” A short, sullen no at that.
But I pressed on. “So how did you find out?”
“Roxanne.”
“Okay. And how did she know?”
“When we came down for the wedding a couple weeks ago, she overheard Megan talking about you to Travis. About how she wanted to find her real mother.”
“You both knew who I was the first time we met?”
“Yeah.” More foot wagging. She looked at Kate. “When’s the next medicine? Because I’m getting pretty shaky again.”
“Dr. Wagner does your meds, but I’d guess you’re on an every-four-hours schedule,” Kate said.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“Three,” I answered.
“Shit. Another hour. Are you about done? ’Cause I need to walk around or something.”
“I’ll walk with you,” I said softly.