“And who is your client?” Rodan said.
Mary understood that Rodan was leading the charge here, and Coldwater was simply going to observe.
“That’s confidential,” Mary said.
The lawyer smiled. “I’m afraid most of what we know is confidential, as well. It appears we’re at an impasse.”
“I see,” Mary said. “Can you at least tell me in general terms if you ever prescribe medication directly to a patient?”
“I have never heard of a pharmaceutical company prescribing drugs to individuals,” the lawyer said.
Mary noticed that wasn’t technically saying no.
The security guy, Coldwater, got Rodan’s attention and tapped his watch.
“I’m afraid this conference is over, Miss Cooper,” Rodan said.
Three security guards appeared in the doorway of the conference room.
“These gentlemen will see you out.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Mary returned to her office and was pulling out a Moleskin notebook to jot down ideas for the case, when she saw a man appear outside her door.
He looked familiar.
And then it hit her.
It was Trey Barnes, Valerie’s brother.
“Buy you a drink?” Mary said.
Barnes followed her inside and she gestured toward the chair across from her desk. He sat down and looked around.
“I’ve never been in a private eye’s office before,” he said.
“Glamorous, isn’t it? Want something to drink? I’ve got beer and a few Diet Cokes.”
“I’m okay, thanks.”
“So what’s a nice guy like you doing in a place like this?” Mary said.
“Well, I was finishing up with Valerie’s stuff and thought of something she had mentioned to me awhile back. I wasn’t sure if it was important or not.”
“Sometimes it’s the little details that blow a case wide open,” Mary said. “Let’s hear what you’ve got.”
“Val and I were talking on the phone once and she said she was going to group.” He made air quotes around the word.
“And I said to her, like group yoga?” He smiled at the memory.
“She said no, group as in group therapy, but not normal therapy,” he continued. “Sort of a support group, was the way she put it, as I recall.”
Mary waited and thought about it.
“Did she say anything else about it?”
“No, that was it.”
“So why do you think that memory stuck with you?”
“I think it was the way she said it. We didn’t have many secrets between us, and I thought there was more to the story. But I didn’t press her. We never did. Of course now, I wish I had.”
“Hindsight is always 20/20,” Mary said. She took a drink of cold coffee. “What do you think Valerie meant by it? What do you think it was?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. But I think it had something to do with therapy, but that it was maybe unconventional or something. If it was just a normal type of group therapy, I don’t think she would have been talking about it the way she did. That’s all I can guess.”
Mary nodded.
Barnes wiped his palms on his thighs, as if he was nervous about something.
“Is there anything else?” Mary said.
He shook his head.
“No, I’m done with all of the arrangements. And heading back to San Francisco this afternoon.”
He got to his feet and Mary did the same.
She stuck out her hand.
“Thank you for the information and I’m sorry again for what happened.”
He smiled. “Valerie always said that’s why she liked numbers so much. They were always the same, you could always count on them to do what they were designed to do. Unlike people.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Mary sat back down at her desk. She drank the rest of her coffee, which was now ice cold. She tossed the paper cup into her trash can, thinking about what Barnes had said.
Numbers. People.
Numbers vs. People.
She thought about what would happen to Valerie Barnes’ huge house. The brother was probably going to put it up for sale. Mary felt a twinge of sadness. Valerie Barnes had been so young, she must have worked very hard to afford that house.
Suddenly, Mary sat straighter in her chair.
Numbers. Vs. People.
Mary dialed Dr. Blevins, but got the answering service. She left a message for the psychologist to call her back as soon as possible. Mary wanted to know if Craig Locher had ever been involved with group therapy, and if so, if it had been prescribed by Dr. Blevins, or, later by Fallon.
Unpredictable people. Dr. Frank Fallon would have loved the beautiful Valerie Barnes.
Had she assumed he would act like a number?
Mary retrieved Craig Locher’s file that had been dropped off by his fiancé.
She had little hope that the information would be included but she decided to dive in, even though she had looked through the material once already.
It took her more than an hour to look over every intake sheet, treatment order, and prescription order to determine that there was nothing included about a support group.
Mary was tempted to drop it. What were the odds that the support group would turn out to have anything to do with Valerie Barnes’ death?
Slim to none.
Still, Mary was driving toward something only she could sense. But she hated the idea of taking her foot off the gas.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
In the morning, Dr. Blevins called back.
“I can tell you that Mr. Locher was referred to a group therapist. I know this because that office contacted me about his records, wanted them forwarded.”
Mary couldn’t believe it.
“What can you tell me about the people requesting the records, the details of the support group?”
Mary heard the rustling of papers.
“The program was run by a medical services company named Altadena Alternative Therapies.”
It clicked for Mary. Altadena was directly north of Pasadena. Literally in the shadows of Synergy Labs. Could they be one and the same?
“Have you ever heard of them?” Mary asked.
“No, I haven’t,” Dr. Blevins said.
“Do you have an address in the paperwork?” Mary asked.
“Sure do.”
The doctor read the address off.
Mary jotted it down.
“Thank you,” she said.
They disconnected and Mary immediately began researching the web for any information on Altadena Alternative Therapies.
It didn’t take long to find out the company did exist, but that they had no formal website, no newspaper stories, nothing official.
Just a scattered presence on the Web in Internet chatter and the like.
She plugged the address into Google’s street view function and saw that it was a private residence.
But not just any private residence.
It was a mansion.
Mary grabbed her keys, hopped into the Accord, and headed for Altadena.
Traffic was a nightmare and she drove side streets, avoiding the freeways and ignoring speed limits.
As she drove, she thought about the case. Craig Locher seemed to have no enemies. Derek Pitts certainly did. But what about Ann Budchuk?
Murder, in Mary’s opinion, always involved one of several things. Greed. Passion. Money.