Hemlock Bay

try to kill herself seven months after her daughter was killed?”
    “A girl who was the neighborhood bookie, then a cartoon strip artist?” Hoyt sighed. “I’d like to say no, I can’t imagine it, Savich, but who knows? Aren’t artists supposed to be high-strung? Temperamental? You said she still can’t remember a thing about the accident?”
    “Not yet.”
    “What are you going to do?”
    “After MAX checks everything out, we’ll see. No matter what, I’m taking Lily back to Washington with my wife and me. I think it’s been proved that Hemlock Bay isn’t healthy for her.”
    “Everything could be perfectly innocent,” Clark Hoyt said. “She could have simply lost control of the car.”
    “Yeah, but you know something? I saw my brother-in-law differently this time. I saw him through Lily’s eyes, maybe. It’s not a pretty sight. I want to strangle him. Actually, I wanted to throw his daddy through the hospital window.”
    Clark Hoyt laughed. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
    “I will, thank you, Hoyt. Count on it. Thanks for the names of the shrinks.”

    Hemlock Bay, California

    On the following Sunday afternoon, four days after her surgery, Lily was pronounced well enough to leave the hospital. She suffered only mild discomfort, because Dr. Larch had stopped by her room, looking determined, and given her some pills to keep the worst of the pain at bay. She still walked bent over like an old person, but her eyes were clear, her mood upbeat.
    Sherlock had wanted to ask Dr. Larch about lowering Lily’s meds temporarily on Dr. Frasier’s orders, but Savich said, “Nope, let’s just hold off on that for a while.”
    “Nothing else good on the tape,” Sherlock said in some disgust as she removed the small bug from beneath Lily’s hospital bed while Lily was in the small bathroom bathing. “Not even doctors or nurses gossiping.”
    Ten minutes later Savich said to his sister as he pushed her wheelchair toward the elevator, “I told Tennyson that Sherlock and I are taking you to see your new shrink. He wasn’t happy about that, said he didn’t know anything about this woman. She could be a rank charlatan and he’d lose all sorts of money, maybe even get you more depressed. I just let him talk on, then gave him my patented smile.”
    “That smile,” Sherlock said, “translates into ‘You mess with me, buddy, and even your toenails are gonna hurt.’ ”
    “In any case, at the end of all his ranting, there was nothing he could do about it. He tried to get me to convince you to see Dr. Rossetti. I do wonder why he thinks the guy is so great.”
    “He’s not,” Lily said. “He’s horrible.” She actually shuddered. “He came back again this morning. The nurse had just washed my hair for me, so I looked human and felt well enough to take him on.”
    “What happened?” Sherlock asked. She was carrying Lily’s small overnight bag. Savich pushed her wheelchair onto the elevator, punched the button. No one else was on board.
    Lily shuddered yet again. “I think he’d talked to Tennyson some more. He tried to change his tactics. He actually attempted to be ingratiating, at least at first. When he slithered into my room—yes, that’s it exactly, he slithered—Nurse Carla Brunswick had just finished blow-drying my hair.”
    Nurse Brunswick turned toward him and said, “Doctor.”
    “Leave us alone for a bit, Nurse. Thank you.”
    Lily said, “I don’t want Nurse Brunswick to leave, Dr. Rossetti. I want you to leave.”
    “Please, Mrs. Frasier, just a moment of your time. I fear we got off on the wrong foot when I was here before. You were just out of surgery; it was simply too soon for you to want to hear about anything. Please, just a few minutes of your time.”
    Nurse Brunswick smiled at Lily, patted her hand, then left the hospital room.
    “I see that I have little choice here, Russell. What do you want?”
    If he was angered at her use of his first name, he didn’t let on. He kept smiling, walked to her bed, and stood there, towering over her. She looked at his hands; his plump hands sported a ring this time—a huge diamond on his pinkie. She wished she could throw him out of her room.
    “I just wanted to speak to you, Mrs. Frasier—Lily. See if perhaps we could deal better with each other, perhaps you could come to trust me, to let me help you.”
    “No.”
    “Are you in pain, Lily?”
    “Yes, Russell, I am.”
    “Would you like me to give you