Sleep No More - By Iris Johansen Page 0,10

wandered away from the hospital, but she’s no threat to herself or anyone else. They’ve asked the police to conduct a discreet investigation so that it won’t embarrass the patient’s family.”

“And they agreed? I’d say a mental patient wandering around the city offers a multitude of problems, and embarrassment to the family is the least of them.”

“They agreed,” Sandra said flatly. “The family is a huge donor to the hospital and also has a lot of influence in the city. The police were happy to cooperate.”

“And when did this woman wander away?”

“Two nights ago.”

“At night? A strange time to wander. Does she sleepwalk?”

“How do I know?” She moistened her lips. “Jackie didn’t tell me. It’s not something I’d ask.”

No, Sandra was seldom interested in other people’s problems. “And why didn’t one of the nurses or doctors stop her? And there had to be security if it’s a mental hosp—”

“I don’t know. Stop asking me questions. Have Joe find out what happened. That’s why I came here. He has to find her.”

“I’m sure he’ll be glad to communicate with the Santa Barbara Police Department. But that’s really all he can do.”

“No, he mustn’t do that.” Sandra’s tone was suddenly panicked. “That will stir things up, and I don’t want to cause trouble. All I want is for him to find her. I mean, that’s all that Jackie would want.”

“Then do what I do with my reconstructions. Go to the media and publish a picture. Let the public search for her.”

“Don’t be stupid. I can’t do that. I told you that any search has to be discreet.”

“To protect her precious family? Screw that, Sandra. It’s the patient who is important. Why would it matter if she was in the newspapers or not?”

“Because she was in a mental hospital. She’s crazy, dammit.”

“And there’s a stigma surrounding mental illness? Well, it’s time that stigma was put away. You can’t cure something if you don’t accept and understand it.”

“Well, I don’t understand it. It scares me, and it probably scares other people, too. I don’t blame the Averys for not wanting anyone to know about her.”

“Avery?”

She was silent, then said, reluctantly, “Beth Avery. She’s some distant relation to the South Carolina Averys. Maybe you’ve heard of them.”

“Who hasn’t heard of them? There hasn’t been a more powerful political family since the Kennedys.” George and Nelda Avery were the head of an immensely wealthy dynasty who owned factories, mines, and a good portion of the lumber in the state of South Carolina. It was also rumored that they owned a good many of the Democratic senators in Congress and were aiming to catapult their son into the Oval Office. “They’re reputed to be kingmakers. No wonder the police are proving so cooperative if the Averys own a big part of California, too.” She frowned, trying to remember anything else she’d heard about the family. “But I don’t recall hearing anything about this Beth Avery. The spotlight is on everything the Averys say or do. Why don’t I know anything about her?”

“A distant relative. No one important,” Sandra said quickly. “And she’s been in that hospital for a long time. If the media were interested, they’ve probably forgotten about her by now.”

“And the Averys don’t want her to be remembered,” Eve said. “Maybe they regard mental illness as a stigma, too.” She grimaced. “Though I don’t think even a crazy woman would scare George and Nelda Avery. It’s more likely that they regard her as an inconvenience.”

“Why do you say that?” Sandra asked indignantly. “They took care of her, didn’t they? It’s a nice hospital. Seahaven Behavioral Health Center, they call it. And it looks like a luxury hotel. They did everything they could for her.”

“Then why did she wander away?”

“You can’t blame—” She stopped. “I told you that I didn’t know anything about that.”

The entire business was very strange and completely unlike Sandra. “Perhaps I’d better ask Jackie. What’s her phone number?”

“No, don’t call—” Sandra’s eyes were suddenly glittering with anger. “Stop interfering. All I wanted was for Joe to check and make sure that she was safe. That’s not much to ask.” She whirled and headed for the door. “I’ll wait for him outside. I’m going to take a walk.”

“In those high heels? You’ll break your ankles.”

But the door had slammed behind her.

Eve followed her and stood on the porch, looking at her as she stomped down the porch steps, then wobbled in her high heels down the uneven dirt path toward the trees. Should

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