The doctor had no hard edges. His voice, his smooth hands, and his rounded face were all pleasant and invited trust. “That’s not a lot.”
“We offer specialized care including one-on-one counseling as well as group counseling. It’s intensive. The children who come to us are in tough shape.”
This guy sounded like a walking-talking marketing video. “Would you say you have a good success rate?”
“We do. We pride ourselves on helping these children.” He adjusted his glasses. “Just because a child comes from money doesn’t mean they’re happy.”
“Money doesn’t buy happiness,” Winchester said.
“No, it does not.”
“But it does buy privacy and a really nice place to get well,” Bragg countered.
“We pride ourselves on making a nurturing place for the children.”
“What’s the age range for your patients?”
“We’ve children as young as ten and as old as twenty.”
“That’s a sizeable gap. A twenty-year-old might not have much in common with a ten-year-old.”
“That’s why we divide our children into pods. We try to match the ages of the children who share pods. They live in separate buildings located beyond the woods.”
“And all the children here have tried to commit suicide?”
Annoyance flashed in Dr. Leland’s eyes as if the hard word were taboo. “Some of our residents also grapple with drug addiction, anorexia, or self-mutilation. We are equipped to handle just about any crisis.”
“Basically, you treat messed-up kids.” He wanted to sound unfeeling. He wanted to rattle the doctor and find out what he could shake loose.
Dr. Leland frowned, but didn’t rise to the bait. “You make it sound harsh.”
“Because it is harsh,” Winchester said.
Absently he straightened a sheet of paper on his desk. “We try not to judge the children here.”
“I wasn’t judging. Only trying to get to what you do for the children.”
“I’ve indulged your questions, Ranger Bragg. Now can you tell me why you are here?”
Bragg switched tactics. “How long have you been at Shady Grove?”
“I’ve worked here for a decade.”
“How long have you been the director?”
“I’m not just the director. I own the facility now.”
“How long?”
“Barely over a year.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing overly dramatic or nefarious. The founder of the camp, Dr. Gary Putman, died. In his sleep. Of a heart attack. He was seventy-six.”
“Dr. Putman founded the camp?”
“He did. Twenty years ago. Though he was a leading psychologist, his oldest child, Rebecca, was a troubled girl. She killed herself when she was fifteen. Her death prompted him to create a haven for troubled children.”
“You purchased the clinic.”
“Yes, from the family.”
Bragg hesitated, letting his gaze roam the room as if he had all the time in the world. He met the doctor’s gaze. “I’ve had two of your former clients die recently.”
Dr. Leland cocked his head and frowned but kept his thoughts to himself.
Bragg had the sense the doctor was calculating the media fallout from the murders. He didn’t speak, using the silence to prompt the doctor to talk.
Dr. Leland cleared his throat. “Can you tell me who?”
“The first was Rory Edwards and the second Sara Wentworth. They were both here at the same time about twelve years ago.”
“That was before my time. As I said, I’ve been here a decade.”
“I assume the facility keeps records.”
“I’m not allowed to release the names of my current or former clients. I signed several privacy agreements when I bought the camp. Dr. Putman’s son was clear about maintaining the camp’s reputation. Discretion is key to our work.”
“We know doctor-patient privilege is binding,” Winchester said.
“But the sole link between the two victims was their stay here,” Bragg added.
“Many of our clients run into each other when they leave. I have no control over what happens then.” Dr. Leland clearly favored damage control and not assistance.
“Rory Edwards was here because he hanged himself. And Sara Wentworth, who went by the name Joan while she was here, tried to freeze herself to death. Rory was hanged several days ago and Sara froze to death in an industrial freezer.”
Dr. Leland straightened the sheet of paper on his desk again. “We have a high success rate, but we do lose some clients. Mental illness is a tough and complicated issue to tackle. Outside life is stressful and can trigger a relapse.”
“I’ve no doubt. No doubt at all. There was another gal here, Elizabeth Templeton.”
His lips compressed into a thin line. “Did she die?”
“No. No, she’s doing well for herself now. She speaks well of Shady Grove. But she knew the two victims.”
“Why are you calling them victims? I thought you said these two individuals killed themselves.”
The doctor was astute, but then to be a success here he’d have to key into the nuances of words. “I know Rory was murdered or at the least was assisted with his suicide. Sara may have been the one who helped or killed him before killing herself. Or someone else killed them both.”
Dr. Leland arched a brow. “I would think the police would know the difference between suicide and murder.”
“We do most times. But then we get a killer who tries to cover up. Takes more digging to get at what happened.”
“I still don’t see how we are connected.”
“Odd that two folks from this fine establishment would choose to kill themselves two days apart,” Winchester said.
“I don’t know what to say.”
Bragg leaned forward. “I’m real interested in the group of kids here the same time as the two victims and Elizabeth Templeton.”
“I’ve told you I can’t tell you. We keep names a secret for a reason.”
“I need to have those names.”
“You won’t get them from me.”
“One way or another I’m going to get a list of those names and figure out if I’m chasing any kind of pattern.”
“I can’t confirm or deny what you are saying.”
Bragg shook his head. “I want to handle this as quietly as I can, Dr. Leland. I don’t want to make a fuss. Media can turn a situation sideways. Couldn’t be good for your business. But I promise you if I don’t get your help, I’ll mention both my victims were Shady Grove residents.”
The doctor paled. “I would help you if I could, but I can’t break doctor-patient confidence.”
“Tell you what. Why don’t you locate the folks in that group and find out how they’re doing?”
“I don’t have that kind of information. People scatter and move away.”
“I bet you know more than you realize. Bet their grateful families are generous donors.”
“You’re putting me in a bad position. Making calls like that could be awkward.”
“Not my worry, Dr. Leland. I need to find out what happened to the kids in that group.”
“What if there is no connection? What if I find out they’re all good and well, and you’re stirring trouble for no reason at all?”
“Well, then, I’d say it will be your lucky day. I’d say, you won’t have to worry about me anymore.” Bragg leaned forward. He grinned, knowing the effect could be menacing. “I’m not the kind of person people like having around on a regular basis. I make them nervous.”
A slight widening of the doctor’s eyes confirmed he wanted Bragg gone. “And if they’re dead? Then what do I do?”
“Then you best let me know. In the meantime, I’m going to get a court order. That might help you with your legal dilemma. But news of court orders has a way of leaking out.”
“Don’t want that getting around,” Winchester said.
Dr. Leland adjusted his tie. “You are backing me into a corner.”
Bragg rose, knowing hardball came next. “Nope, just hoping you’ll do your civic duty and help out the Rangers. But if you don’t help then you can bet we’re going to back you into a corner and make your life miserable.”
Winchester stood, as if in no rush. He grinned.
Shoulder to shoulder, the mass of the Rangers’ bodies ate a hefty chunk of floor space. They left the stunned doctor in his office and strode out the front door. On the front porch Bragg settled his hat on his head and surveyed the grounds. A flash of metal in light caught his attention. He strode across the gravel driveway and the ground toward a large tree. At the base of the tree he found a plaque. It read:
IN LOVING MEMORY OF REBECCA,