“Well, first off I can tell you I was not surprised to hear Andrea had died in an accident on Mount Rainier.”
Apparently, Townsend did not know Andrea had not died on Rainier. Tracy decided to explore his thinking. “No? Why not.”
“Because I was not convinced it was an ‘accident.’”
“You thought the husband killed her?”
“No. I would maintain that Andrea took her own life.”
“Why would you come to that conclusion?”
“Because of three years of therapy. This would be the kind of grandiose gesture I’d expect Andrea would choose to leave the world—something to let the world know she’d been here.”
“Grandiose? I understood from Mrs. Orr that Andrea was an introvert who hid from the world.”
“That was her coping mechanism,” Townsend said. “That was how Andrea chose to hide from her problems, to shut them away in a closet, so to speak. But that wasn’t who she really was.”
Tracy knew that trick very well. She’d become obsessed with finding Sarah’s killer, so much so that when she’d finally had to walk away, she’d had to literally shut Sarah’s files in her bedroom closet so that she could function. “How would you describe her?”
“Before the car accident that took her parents’ lives, and before the abuse at the hands of her uncle, she was described by her schoolteachers and counselors as a bright, well-adjusted, mischievous young woman.”
“Mischievous?”
“She liked to play pranks on her classmates and friends.”
“What kind of pranks?”
“Oh, she’d hide someone’s lunch, short-sheet their beds at slumber parties, put pin holes in the milk cartons so when classmates drank, the milk would dribble down their chins.”
Tracy’s sister had been similarly mischievous. Sarah had liked to hide and jump out at Tracy and her unsuspecting friends. “Harmless pranks,” she said.
“For the most part.”
“Were there occasions when the pranks were not harmless?”
Townsend nodded. “A few, apparently.”
“Such as?”
“She cut the stem of a bike tire on a classmate who she believed had been mean to a friend of hers.”
Tracy considered this. “Could her pranks have increased in their vindictiveness?”
“Yes,” Townsend said, “I believe they could have.”
“What was your diagnosis for Andrea?”
“Well, Andrea left when she was eighteen, so I can’t say for certain.”
“You don’t know.”
“I believe Andrea was susceptible to a dissociative disorder brought on by the trauma and abuse.”
“What do you mean by a dissociative disorder?”
“It can be a number of different things. In Andrea’s case it could have manifested in an involuntary and unhealthy escape from reality.”
“Her excessive reading?”
“Certainly. It’s a mechanism used to keep traumatic memories at bay. The person either has memory loss—you can’t recall what you did or who certain people are in your life—or she can take on alternate identities.”
“Split personalities?”
“In a sense. The person switches to an alternate identity. Someone suffering from a dissociative identity disorder will say they feel the presence of people talking or living inside their head, and they can’t control what those people are doing or saying.”
“You said ‘susceptible.’ You don’t know if Andrea had a dissociative disorder?”
“Not with certainty. The typical onset is early twenties. She’d left counseling by then.”
“How would it have manifested, if she’d had it?”
“A number of different ways. For one, the person can be prone to mood swings and impulsive acts.”
“Would an impulsive act be getting married after just a few weeks?”
“It could be.”
“Are these people capable of committing harmful acts?”
“Suicide attempts are not uncommon.”
“I meant harmful acts against others?”
“Certainly.”
“What can trigger it?”
“Again, it can be several things. Another traumatic event—abuse or a perceived abandonment, a betrayal, or just a feeling of desperation.”
Tracy didn’t need Townsend to explain that, in those categories, Andrea Strickland had been a perfect four for four.
“Were you aware that Andrea had a trust, Doctor?”
“Andrea mentioned it,” he said and then looked doubtful. “Or it could have been her aunt said something in passing.” He paused. Then he said, “I believe it was the aunt. She said she was grateful Andrea would, at least, always be financially taken care of. Frankly, I was uncertain whether that was a good thing.”
“Why is that?”
“Given Andrea’s uncertain future mental state, the trust would have made it easy for her to not work, and potentially to engage in an unhealthy lifestyle.”
“Drugs?” Tracy said, thinking of the pot store, Genesis.
“Potentially.”
“And the trust could have also made her susceptible to persons hoping to take advantage of her, could it not?”
“Yes,” he said. “It could have. If they knew of it, of course.”
“Of course.”
CHAPTER 20