Page 91 of Shattered Hearts

“We all know thatnow, Mr. Maddox. I had no idea that Mr. Black didn’t have your sister’s best interests at heart or that he was conspiring with her psychiatrist. I never associated with Miss Maddox...that wasn’t in my job description there, nor is associating with patients what I do here. Why did you want to speak to me?”

“I wanted to ask if you knew about the testing site in the basement.”

Iona presses her lips together. “Yes. I knew about the space. Whether it’s accurate to call it a testing site, that’s not for me to say. That area was protected by Dr. Pederson and I wasn’tprivy to what went on down there. Even the cleaning staff wasn’t allowed in the basement.”

I wish I would have been prepared to speak to her. I don’t have the files of the dead girls or their pictures on me. “Did you know JodiAnne Connelly? Or Savannah Mesa? Do you remember Marci Grayson?”

“I think you need to leave.”

Zane and I trade a look and I ask, “Then you do remember them. Do you know they’re all dead?”

She covers her mouth with a trembling hand and tears fill her eyes. “I did, yes, but may I—may I ask how?”

“JodiAnne died of an alleged cardiac arrest. Savannah of alleged suicide. And Marci fell down a flight of stairs and broke her neck.”

“When you say ‘alleged,’ what do you mean?”

“I mean, JodiAnne’s mother suspected foul play and asked my father and me to investigate. Savannah’s sister hired us to look into her suicide. Meredith seemed convinced that while her sister had mental health issues, she’d never do that. Especially since she was engaged at the time of her death.”

“And Marci?”

“I spoke to her mother and read a page of Marci’s diary. She was sure someone was watching her. In fact, all the girls exhibited paranoia of that nature. No one paid it any attention because of the issues they’d had in the past.”

Iona ages a million years in front of my eyes. “I heard about the girls in the news, but I wasn’t aware of the circumstances. Did you see this article in today’s paper?”

It isn’t above the fold, just a brief article two pages in on the bottom right accompanied by a grainy black and white photo of a slender young woman who has black hair and large eyes. I read the text beneath the photo:Thirty-year old Stacy Birmingham was found dead in Bryant Park today by a jogger on an earlymorning run. The KCPD is investigating what appears to be a drug overdose. No other information is available at this time.

“She was a patient at Quiet Meadows?”

Iona nods.

Zane watches our exchange.

“Why was she there?”

She doesn’t answer, only stares at her hands.

“Miss Belsely, she’s dead. Confidentiality isn’t much of an issue.”

Iona blows out a sigh. “You’re right, of course. Nothing matters now. She was a patient of Dr. Pederson’s. He specialized in bipolar disorder, and Stacy was diagnosed bipolar with symptoms of schizophrenia just like JodiAnne Connelly. Dr. Pederson liked the mystery of it. What a mental illness could do to the mind and how chemicals could solve it. Medication, you know.”

“Why do you think Stacy Birmingham is dead?”

“The article says she died of a drug overdose.”

“Iona, why do you think Stacy Birmingham is dead?” I ask again, more firmly. She has a theory, and it’s wanting to burst from her lips like water pushing against a crack in a dam.

“Because when Quiet Meadows closed, Dr. Pederson lost control of his patients. He couldn’t monitor them on a daily, even hourly, basis as he had in the past. His treatments wore off and the girls buckled under their illnesses.”

“Why didn’t he keep seeing them as patients?”

“Dr. Pederson was using research grant money awarded to Quiet Meadows. When the facility closed, the grant was rescinded. He didn’t have the funds or the physical space to keep his studies going.”

“Was Zarah a part of that?”

Iona shakes her head. “No. Her chart indicated she was beyond treatment.”

She pales, and Zane hisses.

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