“Not particularly, but I enjoy them nonetheless. They have an honesty and simplicity that I can appreciate.” He stood in front of a window overlooking a white lilac. “You and Gerry just got here, didn’t you?”
“Yes-but we didn’t come together.”
“No, of course not.”
Quinn heard the wry tone in his voice. “It’s funny how rumors get started, isn’t it? People get an idea in their heads, and suddenly they start thinking it’s reality. For instance, what was your real relationship with Alicia Miller?” she asked candidly.
“So, you’ve obviously heard rumors.” He dropped onto a leather club chair and crossed his legs, swinging one foot as he stared out the open window, the sounds of his party faint, the smell of the lilac in the air. “Alicia and I were friends. I was very fond of her. She was like a little sister to me. We got to know each other over the past month.”
“You weren’t having an affair?”
He didn’t seem surprised or offended by the question. “I won’t say it didn’t cross my mind, especially at first. But, no, we were not having an affair. Since my kidnap and rescue, the thought of romance, frankly, hasn’t appealed to me. I could feel normal around her. I like to think she could feel normal around me.” He sighed heavily, but his expression didn’t change. “But I couldn’t save her.”
“You knew she was troubled?”
“Yes. Yes, I knew.”
Quinn heard footsteps in the hall and turned, just as Huck materialized in the doorway. His gaze fell on her, his jaw set hard. He shifted his attention to his boss. “I’m sorry, Mr. Crawford. None of us saw her come inside.”
He held up a hand. “It’s not a problem, Mr. Boone. Quinn and I are friends. Go ahead, Quinn. You can continue. I have nothing to hide from you or anyone else. As I told the FBI and local police, Alicia’s moodiness started shortly before her death. She’d been unhappy for a while, of course, but the irrational talk-the kind of behavior you reported she exhibited when she came to you in Washington -” He paused as if in pain. “Let’s just say she went downhill very fast.”
“I think I know why,” Quinn said, avoiding Huck’s eye. “Alicia had a very bad reaction to an antidepressant back in college. My neighbor here in Yorkville is a retired nurse. She’s pretty sure she recognized the symptoms.”
“Why would she take a medication when she’d already had a bad reaction to it? What doctor would prescribe that if he knew her history?”
“I’m not sure a doctor gave it to her. I told the FBI.”
“Special Agent Kowalski?”
“I suggested they check their blood sample for antidepressants, in particular SSRIs.”
“SSRI?”
“It stands for selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor.” She smiled faintly. “I wrote it down. SSRIs are the most commonly prescribed antidepressants. According to Maura, my neighbor, tricyclics are more likely to be lethal in overdose, but SSRIs can produce a temporary increase in anxiety. Most of the time it’s mild and goes away after a few days. In rare cases, the anxiety and agitation can be very severe and frightening.”
“As with Alicia.” Crawford sat forward, intent on what Quinn was saying. “This is all news to me.”
“I’m not a doctor, and neither is Maura-she emphasized that to me. Most people do well on antidepressants and don’t have this kind of severe, unpleasant reaction. Depression is a treatable illness.”
“Alicia’s bad reaction in college was to some kind of SSRI?”
Quinn nodded. Huck hadn’t made a sound in the doorway. “I don’t know which one,” she said. “Alicia told me that she had reacted very badly and refused to touch any kind of antidepressant. If depressed, she would try alternative therapies. Psychoanalysis, exercise, meditation-but not medication. She was adamant about it.”
“Then you’re suggesting she didn’t know what she was taking.”
“I’m not suggesting anything,” Quinn said.
“Who else knew about her reaction? Presumably her doctor, and her family-any other friends, colleagues? Besides yourself, that is.”
Quinn shifted in her chair. “I did not provide Alicia with any kind of medication, with or without her knowledge. Not even a vitamin. I don’t know anyone who would.”
“No, of course not.” He exhaled, adding simply, “I miss her.”
“Do you know anything about the car that picked her up in Washington?”
“It wasn’t me.”
“One of your security people?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
Quinn noticed his pained look. “I don’t mean to sound as if I’m interrogating you. I understand you’d visit her at the cottage-”