After a beat, Nelly relented.
The instant Kate stepped inside the house, she was hit with a blizzard of smells: mildew, garbage, cigarettes. She expected to see crosses and other Christian symbols hanging on the walls, but instead there was a mixed bag of good-luck charms: Native American totems, New Age amulets, four-leaf clovers, and primitive talismans. There were a couple of medieval-looking crucifixes, but they were far outnumbered by the New Age objects.
Nelly followed her gaze, then held out her scrawny arms for inspection, dozens of silver-and-turquoise bracelets jangling from her wrists. “The Aztecs and Mayans used to believe that turquoise and silver kept the evil spirits away. So I figured, what the heck? The more the merrier. Not that it works,” she muttered. “I have the worst damn luck.”
Kate wondered what it was like for Maddie, growing up in this cramped house where the walls seemed to close in on you. Somebody had struggled to make the place cheery and bright, but the venetian blinds were snapped shut, allowing no sunlight in. Kate spotted a framed photograph on the mantelpiece—the happy couple on their wedding day. Nelly’s husband was a big guy in a tux, with broad shoulders and collar-length dark hair. The bride beamed with joy, but the groom wore a slight scowl that gave the picture an aura of unhappier things to come.
“Mind if I sit down?”
“Anywhere,” Nelly said with a shrug.
Kate sat on the edge of a large plaid sofa that smelled faintly of dog. She decided to come out with it. “You’re Penny Blackwood, aren’t you? Henry’s niece?”
“I am,” Nelly admitted drily. “I changed my name for obvious reasons.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that the other day?”
“I don’t know.” There were dark circles under her eyes. It was hard to believe they were only two years apart—Nelly seemed so much older. She wore a pink turtleneck sweater, slender brown slacks, and a pair of terrycloth slippers, the open-heeled kind you could shuffle around in like two comfy shoeboxes.
“I don’t get it,” Kate said. “Why drive your daughter all the way down to Boston when there’s an excellent psych ward right across the river? Why go so far out of your way?”
Nelly plopped down in a vinyl armchair. “I don’t know.”
“Look,” Kate said, softening a little, “there are plenty of excellent female psychiatrists in Blunt River. Why pick me?”
“Well, for one thing, I read about you in the Globe. That award. And I’ve had it up to here with these so-called experts,” Nelly snarled. “They don’t know shit, in my opinion.”
“Dr. Quillin and the others? Maddie mentioned them to me.”
“Dr. Quillin, Dr. Madison, Dr. Hoang. Overpaid hacks, the lot of them. You get conflicting advice all the time. She’s bipolar—no, she’s schizophrenic. And the drugs they prescribe only seem to make things worse. And nobody can give me a straight answer. In the meantime, she keeps getting worse.”
“So you chose me?” Kate asked, trying to keep her voice level. “Out of all the doctors at Tillmann-Stafford? Because you got frustrated with the ones in Blunt River and you read about me in the Globe?”
“What do you want me to say?” Nelly stood up anxiously.
“The truth would be nice.”
“The truth?” Nelly was shaking slightly, like a dog backing up on its hind legs. “My uncle didn’t kill your sister,” she blurted out, as if she’d been dying to say it all along. “How’s that for the truth?”
Kate’s stomach dropped.
“And now he’s going to die for something he didn’t do.”
“But it was your testimony that convicted him,” Kate said through clenched teeth.
“Doesn’t matter. I know for a fact he didn’t do it.”
“Really? That’s odd, because my sister was buried in his backyard. How do you explain that? And why did you testify against him?”
“All I know is an innocent man is going to die,” Nelly said stubbornly.
Kate scowled. It made sense to her now. That’s why you brought Maddie to see me. This is all about your guilty feelings. You ratted your uncle out at the trial, and now that he’s about to be executed, you’ve decided to change your story, and you thought you could drag me into it. Well, tough luck.
Kate stood up. “There are plenty of other qualified psychiatrists in the Boston area. In the meantime, I’ll ask my colleague, Ira Lippencott, to take over Maddie’s treatment for now. He’s a renowned child psychiatrist, one of the best—”
“No!” Nelly stood trembling in front of Kate, a skinny woman with saucer-sized eyes. “Please… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I remember you from school. Do you remember me?”
Kate nodded. “Vaguely,” she admitted.
“You and your sister used to walk past my uncle’s house on your way to school every day. I’d wave at you sometimes from the upstairs windows—do you remember me now? You’re both so vivid in my mind, the pretty redhead and her little blond shadow.”
It shocked Kate to realize that Penny had been aware of them, because she couldn’t remember anyone waving at them from Blackwood’s house. More importantly, she didn’t want to discuss her dead sister with this woman, because even though Nelly Ward was innocent, she’d been tainted with her uncle’s monstrousness.
On some level, Kate wanted to punish her. “How come you haven’t been to the hospital yet? Maddie needs you more than ever.”
“I don’t know.” Nelly cupped her hands over her face.
“What’s going on? Are there problems at home? Is it your husband?”
“No. Jesus.”
“Okay, look. I can recommend some excellent female psychiatrists…”
“No!” Nelly shouted, eyes tearing up.
“You want me to treat her? Why?”
Nelly shook her head. “Look, I’ve been keeping track of you over the years… I’m no stalker, it’s just that I felt so bad about your sister… such a horrible thing… and my uncle didn’t do it, you see. I know for a fact he’s innocent. And so I figured… well, maybe I wasn’t thinking? Maybe I’m just stupid?” she said with unexpected ferocity.
Now Kate understood where the voice in Maddie’s head was coming from. “Listen,” she said softly. “You aren’t stupid. You’re just as confused as the rest of us.”
“Confused? Absolutely. Unlucky? Definitely. We don’t all have perfect lives,” Nelly said bitterly.
It felt like a kick in the gut. “Are you calling my life perfect?” Kate said, trying not to let her anger into her tone.
“No, no,” Nelly backtracked. “Not perfect. But certainly privileged.”
“Privileged? My mother committed suicide. My little sister was abducted and murdered in a disgusting way—”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it.” Nelly waved her skinny arms, as if trying to push the force of Kate’s righteous indignation away. “Listen… I’m begging you… my uncle didn’t do it. I swear to God, he didn’t do it.”
“Stop saying that.”
“He didn’t leave the house that night. He was with me the whole time.”
“So you lied on the witness stand?”
“I was a basket case back then. I didn’t know any better.”
“But you told the judge that your uncle left the house for six hours. Why would you lie about such a thing?”
“Because I was ashamed.”
“Of what?”
Nelly wrung her hands. “Something.”
“What?”
“Do I have to spell it out for you?” Her voice was anguished.
“Apparently so.”
Nelly plucked a pack of Marlboros off the mantelpiece, fumbled with a box of matches, lit a cigarette, and exhaled a thread of smoke. “My uncle was abusing me.”
Kate froze, though she didn’t know why it surprised her.
“For years.” Nelly winced. “Please.”