That journey, however, would be paved with heartbreaking challenges. There were health issues and two badly severed fingers (don’t ask—it’s complicated). There were also numerous wrong turns, unexpected bumps, and so many tossed chapters that I lost count of them. There was screaming, fist pounding, tears, and for the first time in my career, countless nights I went to bed doubting my ability as a writer. But with those experiences came great lessons, the most important of which is that without fear, success is unattainable. That the hardest fought battles are indeed the most worthy.
Besides my stubborn unwillingness to accept defeat, what kept me fighting was the consistent and generous support given by those who surround me. From the ones who shared their knowledge, to the ones who seemed to know I could do this (even though I didn’t), each played an integral role in helping me bring you this story. To those people, I offer my most heartfelt gratitude.
Special thanks to the folks at Thomas & Mercer, specifically Kjersti Egerdahl, and especially Alan Turkus, who waited (and waited) with great patience and anticipation while I obsessively hammered away at this novel. The deadlines kept passing, and he kept extending them. Still, all the while, his excitement and enthusiasm over this story never wavered.
I’m grateful to have Scott Miller at Trident Media Group as my agent. Through every concern, he was not only receptive but also expeditious in taking care of business.
My developmental editor, Caitlin Alexander, was meticulous and thorough in her assessment of this book, weeding out the illogical, inconsistent, and nonsensical. Her insight was invaluable in helping to create added depth and believability to my story.
To say this book was a technical challenge would be a radical understatement. I walked into it knowing very little about forensic psychology but walked out with what I hope was the knowledge and credibility to make this story fly. For that, I owe my greatest thanks and complete admiration to neuropsychologist Cynthia Boyd, who talked me through the many complexities of psychopathology, disassociation, childhood sexual trauma, brain injuries, and a host of other topics far too numerous to list here. With my every phone call (also far too numerous), she responded with genuine enthusiasm and a most determined desire to be as helpful as possible. I can say without a second’s hesitation that this book would not have been the same without her help, and I feel so very fortunate to know her.
Special thanks to clinical psychologist Franz Kubak at Oregon State Hospital, who helped me fill in the gaps so that I could portray Christopher’s working environment and circumstances accurately and better understand the treatment of patients.
On that note, I’ve been trying for years to sneak into a psychiatric hospital, but unfortunately, it appears the only way they’ll allow me entrance is as a patient. While this book drove me dangerously close to having that wish fulfilled, it wasn’t close enough. I instead had to rely on the eyes and ears of the wonderful people who have dedicated their lives to helping the mentally ill.
Lori Wilson, also at Oregon State Hospital, has been my go-to gal since The Lion, the Lamb, the Hunted, and she is truly a gem. I pester her rather frequently with tedious questions, and amazingly, she never seems to tire of me. My only hope is that she can someday help fulfill my research dream, if only for the sole purpose of getting me off her back.
To lighten Lori’s load, I now have a new victim, Kathleen Lee, at Arkansas State Hospital. She, too, was so very helpful in answering my every question, further illustrating the remarkable kindness, dedication, and patience these fine professionals exhibit every day in their work.
I have new understanding and compassion, not only for those who suffer from schizophrenia but also for their family members. I’m grateful to Terri Strong for being kind and generous in sharing her personal experiences with me so that I could portray Christopher’s emotional struggles both as the child of a schizophrenic parent, and then as a victim himself. It is my hope that we can someday fully understand this horrible illness and find new ways to relieve the agony.
Attorney Richard Gates was kind enough to offer his expertise and knowledge about the insanity defense. He’s an extremely busy man who, in spite of that, gave his time, further proving there are generous people everywhere.
To my beta readers, I offer enormous appreciation for helping me make this book the best that it could be.
And to my regular readers: you are the reason I write. Not a day goes by when I lose sight of that, and each day my respect and admiration for you only deepens. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to tell my stories. Thank you for your unfailing support and encouragement. It truly means the world to me.
And lastly, but by no means leastly (I know . . . not a word. I often make them up), to the people I affectionately refer to as my tribe. The ones who, without fail, hold me up, dust me off, and give me the strength to go on when life gets wobbly.
Kelley Eskridge (whom I promoted to tribal chief after she expertly talked me off the ledge several months back): You are my friend, my personal editor, and one of the smartest people I’ve ever known, and I am so damned thankful to have met you. I could go on and on, but please know how truly awesome I think you are.
Barbara Richards and I met eons ago during my first television gig at the CBS station in San Diego. She’s still there and thriving—I’m long gone. Enough said. Some things are just meant to be. And while our professional paths took different directions, our friendship has only grown stronger through the years, partly because she’s one of the funniest people I’ve ever met, and partly because she’s one of the most honest and sincere.
Linda Boulanger and I texted back and forth for years before ever speaking a word to each other—and while my fingers often became numb and stiff (because, well, I’m a chatty one), I know her to be one of the kindest, most generous, and authentic people I’ve ever met. We did finally meet in real life last May at the OWFI conference, and she was every bit the awesome person I knew she would be.