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“After all my pain and suffering, the doctors said that the cancer wasn’t responding to the chemo, so they pretty much gave up on me and told me I had about six months to live. To be honest, I actually felt relieved. I had been through so much pain and psychological distress that I welcomed death. I now know firsthand why so many sickly people want to die. You reach a point where your quality of life is so dreadful, death seems a better alternative.”

Mrs. Crawford paused again and took a long swallow of water. Her eyes glistened with tears.

The woman’s story mesmerized Dupree. And it brought back painful memories of her own. After a long, agonizing fight with breast cancer, Dupree’s mom had lost the battle. She remembered how her mom had given up, how she’d gone from a vibrant woman to skin stretched over bones, how her face was permanently etched with a look of total despair, how her rosy cheeks were replaced with ash-white skin. During her mom’s long illness, nineteen-year-old Dupree tried to mend their broken relationship, a tragedy for which she felt totally responsible. But her mom was so medicated with morphine, Dupree never knew for sure if her mother comprehended her apology or if she’d earned her mom’s forgiveness. Her mom’s death was the catalyst that had given her the will and desire to straighten out her life. Wide-eyed with anticipation, Dupree waited for Mrs. Crawford to continue.

“Just at the point where I’d given up all hope, Lauren told me that she’d done a lot of research and discovered that the Century Nutrition Clinic in Tijuana had experienced some remarkable success treating terminal cancer patients with homeopathic herbs and low dose chemotherapy. Now keep in mind that this clinic only treats cancer patients who are incurable and have nothing to lose by trying alternative treatments. Well, to make a long story short, the doctors in America gave me six months to live—and that was nearly three years ago. Bear in mind that more patients have died than survived—I was one of the lucky ones, but all things considered, Lauren believed that Dr. Hulda Clark, the woman who founded the clinic and developed the treatments, was onto something revolutionary. But ironically, Clark herself died from cancer in 2009. Dr. Orlando Garcia, Clark’s second in command, continued her work but with limited funds. Consequently, future advancement of Dr. Clark’s theories would be unlikely.

“Just before Clark died, Lauren convinced her to let her work at the clinic and learn as much as she could about Clark’s research and treatments, promising Clark that she would work with her to prove her theories. Clark, knowing that she was close to death, didn’t want all her years of hard work to quietly go away. So, convinced that further research along the same path might yield some extraordinary medical discoveries, Lauren persuaded a private investor to fund the project. That’s when Lauren opened the Horizon Cancer Research Center.

“Clark’s critics—probably 90% of the medical community—believed that she was a quack and a charlatan. Whether or not this is true, only Hulda Clark and God know. If you Google her name on the Internet, you’ll find some terribly disparaging accusations. All I know is that I’m still alive and feel better than I have in years, and that my daughter—one of the most brilliant freethinkers in the world—believed that Clark’s theories were valid. I’m sure you’ll be speaking with Dr. Edward Mason, director of operations for Horizon. He can give you more technical information about the research if that will help with your investigation.”

When Mrs. Crawford finished her story, Dupree asked, “Do you still go to Mexico for treatments?”

“Every ninety days. And I have to stay there for six days.” She stared at the floor. A look of deep concern on her face. “Oh, my. I don’t know how I’m going to get to the clinic in Tijuana for my next treatment. It’s not something I can do alone. All those terrible things you hear about Mexico, the killings, drug trafficking. It scares the daylights out of me. In the past, Lauren and I would fly to San Diego and she would drive me to the clinic. That’s the one flaw in this treatment. Once you start, you have to continue for the rest of your life. I guess it’s because it doesn’t cure cancer, it controls it.”

“There’s no one else that can accompany you?” Dupree asked.

“I do have a long lost nephew in Long Island. I’m sure I can twist his arm to help his only aunt—especially if I’m picking up the tab.” Mrs. Crawford paused for a minute and looked at the photograph of her daughter. Her eyes again filled with tears. “To be honest, now that Lauren is gone it doesn’t seem all that important that I go for my treatments. She was my… life.”

The room was so quiet, Dupree could hear the tick-tock of the pendulum clock sitting on the mantle.

“Is there anything else I can answer for you?” Mrs. Crawford said.

It was a delicate question but Dupree had to ask. “Did your daughter have any enemies, ex-boyfriends, a colleague at work who might want to hurt her?”

She thought about the question for a short time. “Well, she was dating a guy awhile back. Jonathan Lentz. But Lauren caught him cheating and broke it off. I can tell you first hand that he was terribly upset.”

“And how do you know this?” Dupree asked. “Did you see him afterwards, witness an argument?”

“I never saw Jonathan again, but a few days after she ended their relationship, I overheard a telephone conversation between the two of them. I wasn’t eavesdropping and of course, I could only hear my daughter’s side of the conversation, but it was a pretty heated exchange.”

“Does anything specifically come to mind that might suggest he threatened her?” T.J. asked.

“Not really. But there is another thing about their relationship that still troubles me.” Mrs. Crawford sipped a glass of water. “During the time Lauren and Jonathan dated, I noticed some suspicious bruises on her wrists and ankles. Every time I questioned her about the black and blue marks, she’d come up with some cockamamie excuse that really didn’t make sense. One time, when the bruises were particularly pronounced, I confronted her and she really got upset with me, which was so unlike her. So, I let it go and never bothered her again.” She drank a little more water. “There is one more interesting fact. After she ended her relationship with Jonathan, the bruises healed and I never saw them again.”

Obviously, Dupree thought, Dr. Crawford’s boyfriend enjoyed playing rough. Or maybe it was the other way around? She twisted her head from side to side, trying to get the kink out of her neck. “How often did you see your daughter?”

“Well, she called me twice a day, at nine a.m. and nine p.m. And twice a week we’d meet for dinner. Sometimes I’d prepare a home cooked meal, but usually Lauren would take me out to a fancy restaurant.” She paused. “When she didn’t call this morning…”

“Did your daughter ever talk about her research or give you updates on her progress?” T.J. asked.

“Often. In fact, she was scheduled to make a major announcement to the press.”

“Do you know what the announcement was about?” Dupree asked.

“Something to do with clinical trials and the Food and Drug Administration.” Mrs. Crawford hesitated again, her eyes still teary. “I’d like you to know that my Lauren did not decide to open Horizon because she was searching for fame and fortune. Quite to the contrary. She really wanted no part of the limelight, but she knew that if she did, in fact, find a cure for cancer, or at the least, more effective treatments, she’d never be able to hide from the press or medical community. I just want you to know that she was a selfless woman driven purely by humanitarian objectives. She had no ambitions to be a celebrity or line her pockets with hundred dollar bills.”