Hemlock Bay

we’re a bit off the subject here. I want to know the name of the antidepressants Lily’s been taking and I want to know why they seem to have the opposite effect on her.”
    Tennyson said patiently, “It’s a very popular drug, Dillon. Elavil. You can ask any doctor.”
    “I’m sure it is. I suppose there are a certain number of people who simply don’t respond appropriately?”
    “Unfortunately, yes. I was considering whether or not we should try another drug—Prozac, for example.”
    Savich said, “Why don’t you just wait on all the drugs until Lily has seen a new psychiatrist. What happened to Dr. McGill? Weren’t you with him for a while, Lily?”
    “He died, Dillon, not two weeks after I began seeing him. He was such a sweet man, but he was old and his heart was rotten. He had a heart attack.”
    Tennyson shrugged. “It happens. Hey, I saw you on TV, Savich, there with all the FBI brass. You got the Warlocks.”
    “Turns out there was only one warlock, the other was a witch.”
    “Yes, a brother and a sister. How did everyone miss that?”
    “Good question.” Savich saw that Lily was listening closely now. She loved hearing about their cases, so he kept talking about it. “Turns out one of them wasn’t really a guy, just dressed like one—Timmy was really a she. She even lowered her voice, cropped off her hair, the whole deal. The profilers never saw it and neither did any of my unit. Instead of Tammy, to the world she was Timmy.”
    “Did the brother and sister sleep together?” Tennyson said.
    “Not that we know of.”
    Lily said, “It was MAX who managed to track down that barn?”
    “That’s right. Once we knew the Tuttles were back in Maryland, I knew in my gut that this was their final destination, that they’d come home, even though they’d been born and raised in Utah. They kidnapped the boys in Maryland. So where were they? MAX always checks out any and every relative when we know who the suspect is. He dug deep enough to find Marilyn Warluski, a cousin who owned this property. And on the property was this old abandoned barn.”
    Thank God no one had mentioned anything about the Ghouls.
    Lily said, “How many boys did the two of them kill, Sherlock?”
    “A dozen, maybe more. All across the country. We’ll probably never know unless Tammy decides to tell us, and that’s not likely. Her arm was amputated thanks to Dillon’s shot. She’s not a happy camper. Thank God it’s over and the last two boys are all right.”
    Tennyson asked, “You shot her? Did you kill the brother too?”
    “The brother’s dead, yes. It was a team effort,” Savich said, and nothing more.
    “Those poor little boys,” Lily said. “Their parents must have been torn apart when they were taken.”
    “They were, but as I said, everything turned out okay for them.”
    Nurse Carla Brunswick said from the doorway, “We don’t have to worry about crooks while you guys are in town. Now, I get to order the FBI out. Time for Mrs. Frasier’s sleeping pills. Say good night—even you, Dr. Frasier. Dr. Larch’s orders.”

    • It wasn’t until they were in the hospital parking lot that Tennyson said, “I apologize for not realizing sooner that you’d only just arrived. You will stay with me, won’t you?”
    “Yes,” Savich said. “Thank you, Tennyson. We want to be close.”
    An hour later, after Savich had called his mother and told her not to worry and had spoken to his son, he climbed into the king-size bed beneath the sloped-ceiling guest room, kissed his wife, tucked her against his side, and said, “Why do you really think Mr. Elcott Frasier called us?”
    “The obvious: he was worried about his daughter-in-law and wanted us to know right away. Very thoughtful. He thought it through and didn’t just call your mom and scare the daylights out of her.”
    “All right, just maybe you’re right. After that heavy dose of craziness with the Tuttles, I guess my mind went automatically to the worst possible motive.”
    Sherlock kissed his neck, then settled back in, her leg over his belly. “I’ve heard so much psychobabble about Lily. She tries to kill herself because it’s the only thing to do if she wants to gain peace. She has to drive her Explorer into a redwood to expiate her guilt. It just doesn’t sound right. It doesn’t sound like Lily. Yes, yes, I remember the first time. But that was then.”
    “And this is now.”
    “Yes. Seven months. Lily isn’t neurotic, Dillon.