My Lost Daughter (47 page)

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Authors: Nancy Taylor Rosenberg

BOOK: My Lost Daughter
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Shana sat up, her eyes roaming around the room. “My mother? She finally called me?”

“Yes.” Lee held a clean pair of pajamas in her hand. “Your mother has called dozens of times, Shana. Dr. Morrow left strict orders that you weren't allowed to speak to her or anyone else. He said it was part of your treatment.”

As soon as Shana was dressed, she followed Lee across the isolation ward, where her new room was located. The clock on the wall read twelve-fifteen. She had slept all morning. Lee handed her the phone from the other side of the nursing station.

“Mom,” she said, tears gushing from her eyes. “Please come and get me out of this place. The hospital made everything up. I was never addicted to drugs. Please, you have to believe me. They wouldn't allow me to call you or receive calls. You don't know what I've been through. They've been giving me all these horrible drugs. They even locked me in a padded cell.”

“My God, Shana, are these things you're telling me the truth?”

“I swear, Mom. Please help me. You have to get me out of here. Something terrible has happened. One of the patients was murdered and the police think I did it.” Shana's shoulders shook as she
sobbed. “I'm sorry I said those ugly things to you. I love you. I was just depressed and stressed out. Please, come fast.”

“I'll catch the next flight out. If this hospital has done the things you say, I'll mop the floor with them. Try to be strong until I get there, Shana. I'm so sorry, honey. This is my fault. I should have never taken you to that place. Will you be safe until I get there?”

“What about your trial?”

“The DA cut a deal this morning. Don't worry about my work, Shana. You're the only thing that matters right now. I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you. A murder? Dear God, did you really say you were a suspect in a murder?”

“Yes,” Shana said. “What if they won't let me leave?”

Lily's shock had turned to anger. “They'll have me to answer to, and I guarantee you they'll let you leave. If Whitehall gives me any trouble, I'll slap a cease and desist order on them and close their doors. I am a judge, remember?” She paused and took a breath. “Listen to me, Shana. I'm coming to get you out and take you home. Just stay safe until I get there? Can you do that?”

“I'll try.”

“If you feel you're in any immediate danger, I'll have the local police dispatch an officer over there to protect you until I get there.”

“No!” Shana shouted. “Didn't you hear what I said? The police think I killed someone. They won't protect me, Mother. They'll arrest me.”

“Everything's going to be all right,” Lily said, her voice cracking with emotion. “I promise I'll never betray your trust again.”

Shana handed the phone back to Lee and headed back to the room. The floor suddenly rose up to meet her and then tilted on its side. She slapped open the door to the room and headed to the bathroom to take a shower and try to look presentable for her mother. When she got out, she rubbed a spot on the mirror and stared at her face. Her head still felt groggy and her eyes were swollen from crying. She brushed her teeth twice, squeezing a glob of toothpaste onto the brush and moving the toothbrush back and
forth until her gums began to bleed, trying to get the cottony feeling out of her mouth. Why did she feel so drugged? The last medication she remembered taking was yesterday morning when she couldn't stop laughing. Was someone other than Morrow drugging her?

Every day at lunch, she sat next to Alex. They always drank the same fruit punch, but some days he picked it up in the cafeteria line and other times she did. Maybe Alex had given her Ecstasy or some other type of hallucinogenic. That could explain the laughing fit as well as the intense pleasure she had experienced the night they had sex.

Shana tried to block the door to the bathroom with her body, a scream trapped inside her throat. It would take at least four or five hours for her mother to get here. A lot could happen in that amount of time. A person could get themselves killed.

TWENTY-SEVEN

FRIDAY, JANUARY 22
SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA

Alex's mother, Nadine, appeared at the door to the great room wearing dark sunglasses and a green raincoat. Even though the sky was clear and the sun was out, another storm front was supposed to be moving through. Nadine's hair was covered with a paisley scarf and she was carrying a briefcase.

Alex gestured to George and he lumbered over and unlocked the door. Mother and son then made their way to an isolated section of the courtyard. There was only one lawn chair, so Alex had to find another one and carry it over to where Nadine was sitting.

“I brought the last of the papers,” she told him.

Alex stared at her, tipping his chair back on its back legs. His eyelids looked heavy and his normally relaxed face was tight with tension.

“Everything's been taken care of . . . everything's in order.”

Alex's full weight fell forward as he leaned over his knees. “What's the rush? There's time.”

“No, Adam, there isn't.” She opened her purse and pulled out a tissue, dabbing at her eyes.

He sat upright in the chair, his mouth rigid, and his teeth gritting the end of the cigarette. “What did you call me?”

“You're my son,” Nadine said, tears welling up in her eyes. “That's the name I gave you. It was your grandfather's name.” She looked down at her hands. She was nervously rubbing the thumb and forefinger on each hand together. It was a lifelong habit. When he was a child, he used to tell her it reminded him of a fly. “I was so proud of you. You were the smartest boy in your elementary school, the smartest in your junior high. You won all those awards for your inventions in the science fair. You won a scholarship to MIT.”

“Well, I didn't win any awards for popularity, did I? I didn't have time for friends or school activities.”

“You were a gifted child, Adam.”

“I wasn't a child, Nadine. You never allowed me to be a child.”

She slipped the scarf off her head. Her hair was slicked back in a tight knot at the base of her neck. “You can't stay here because of that woman. We can't put everything on hold, not after what's happened. This is serious, Adam. We have to move now. The police are going through the records at the hospital and checking all the patients.”

“There's nothing in my file. Morrow assured me he took care of it.”

“Don't you think that alone is suspicious?” Nadine argued. “What kind of hospital doesn't keep records on their patients? My God, Adam, that's a red flag to the authorities. What if they start taking fingerprints? You can't just stay here. You're risking everything.”

“I can do anything I want.”

“Yes, you can,” she told him. “You can do anything you set out to do. You've proven that, proven it to everyone. You've always said I pushed you to excel. But you did succeed, didn't you? You accomplished more than you ever dreamed you could. You built a fabulous empire, all created and fueled by your brilliance and vision. And no one is going to stop us. No one stopped us before and no one is going to stop us now. We bought controlling shares in this
hospital. We did everything exactly the way you wanted. The hospital will always be here for you if you have problems in the future. You just can't stay here after what's happened.” She picked up her purse, opening it and removing a piece of paper which she handed to him. “Do you remember, Adam? Other people remember, people who loved her.”

He held the paper in his hands, transfixed, immobile. It was the picture of a young girl, the edges of the paper frayed and yellow with age. His chest started to rise and fall as if he were having difficulty breathing.

Nadine spoke, her voice a controlled monotone, any traces of the earlier display of emotion gone. She was using his distress, feeding on it, growing stronger. Her mouth compressed into a thin, straight line. “I should have known you were in trouble when you demanded that I bring all those things to the hospital for that girl.” She paused, wanting her words to sink in. “It's over, Adam. I'll call you later this evening and tell you what to do. Your father's made all the necessary arrangements.”

Nadine stood and waited. He was staring into space, lost in his memories. The paper fluttered out of his hands and Nadine stooped down to pick it up so she could return it to him. When he made no move to accept it, she stuck it inside his shirt pocket. Then she opened the briefcase and placed it on the chair, removing two documents. She placed the papers in his lap and handed him a pen. “Sign these, Adam. These are the last.”

His eyes locked with hers and lingered. After some time had passed, he bent down and signed his name. Nadine removed the papers from his hand and placed them back in the briefcase. Without saying good-bye, she turned and headed back into the hospital. Once she was safely inside, the sky opened up and it began pouring. A few staff members from the adolescent unit were running across the courtyard, holding newspapers over their heads to protect them from the downpour. No one saw Alex sitting there long after the others had gone inside, a soggy cigarette dangling from his mouth, his eyes fixed and blank, rain washing over his face and
soaking his clothing. He remained there, perfectly motionless, oblivious to the rain, racing back in time to the day he'd been released from the Camarillo State Mental Hospital, two days before his eighteenth birthday.

 

Nadine was screaming at him, her face a mask of twisted fury. They were in her long bronze Cadillac and had just driven past the gates of the hospital. “You got that girl pregnant? How could you do that, Adam, after everything we've been through? You went in her room and had sex with her. If I hadn't gone to the head of the hospital and pleaded with him on my hands and knees, they would have never released you.”

“Where is she, Mother?” he asked, his voice eerily calm.

“Look, honey,” she said in a calmer tone. “Forget about that girl and I'll buy you that contraption you want. Some very important people from Switzerland have expressed interest in the paper you wrote for
Young Scientist
magazine. One of the gentlemen is with a place called CERN. I still don't understand why you need such an expensive toy.”

“That contraption is a computer,” he said, his eyes coming alive. “I need a fast computer with a large memory to do the math. CERN is the European Organization for Nuclear Research. I can't believe they called me.”

“Nuclear?” his mother said, alarmed. “You'll blow yourself up. You can't be involved with those people if they make nuclear bombs. I thought they were just a bunch of math professors. Besides, why would they call themselves CERN? That's not an acronym for what you just told me.”

“They study the atom. I think they use the word nuclear because it refers to the nucleus. The original name was in French. That's why the letters aren't right. In certain parts of Switzerland, the people speak French.”

“Don't talk down to me,” she told him, cutting her eyes to him. “I know what a nucleus is. Just because I studied English doesn't mean I'm stupid. Science and math don't interest me like they do you and your father.”

“Forget the computer,” Adam said, intense again. “I have to find Jennifer. Where is she? Where did they take her? I promised her I wouldn't leave her. We're in love, Mother.”

“You're too young to be in love. It's natural for boys your age to want sex. Sex is not love, Adam.”

“Take me to her house.”

“Forget you ever knew that girl. You're going to college. You have a tremendous future ahead of you. She's mentally ill, that girl. She's never going to be normal.”

“And what am I, Mother?”

Nadine pulled into a gasoline station and parked. “I have to get gas.” She told the attendant to fill it up and then turned back to her son. “Don't compare yourself to the people in that awful place. You're nothing like those people. You're brilliant, Adam. Ordinary people can't comprehend genius.” She opened her purse and took out her wallet.

“You went to Jennifer's parents and told them to take her away, didn't you?”

“Stop it,” Nadine snapped. “You're being ridiculous. Once the hospital discovered the girl was pregnant, of course they released her. They didn't want to be responsible for a mentally ill pregnant girl, especially one who'd have sex with anyone.” She stopped and took a deep breath. “What difference does it make if I contacted her parents? They've probably had her abort it by now and we can forget about this whole sordid mess. Whatever they did, it's over now. Just be thankful her parents didn't press charges against you or you'd still be in that filthy hospital.”

“I love her, Mother. No one's going to kill our baby.” He reached over and snatched Nadine's wallet out of her hands, then leaned over and opened the driver's door, shoving her out onto the pavement.

“Adam, stop! My God, what are you doing?” The attendant rushed over to Nadine but it was too late. The Cadillac was speeding out of the gas station. It fishtailed onto the interstate, then headed north into the afternoon sun.

“Gosh, lady,” the attendant said, bending down and extending his hand to Nadine. “You want me to call the police? Did that guy rob you?”

“Get your greasy hands off of me,” Nadine snapped, staring down the road as she dusted off her clothing. “No, I don't want you to call the police. That was my son.”

Adam arrived at the address Jennifer had given him at five o'clock in the morning. He parked a few houses down and got out, prowling around the house and peering into the windows as he tried to find her bedroom. Seeing a window ajar, he entered and crept through the house.

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