Mind Games (9 page)

“I’m sorry. I know you two were close,” he said, sincerity shining in his gray eyes.

“Yes, Daddy. The service was nice. It’s just hard to imagine him gone.”

He dropped his hands from hers, and she shoved them inside the pockets of her sweat jacket, pawing at the soft lining. Her lips twisted. She wasn’t sure what else she could say about the funeral.

“He was so young. I only wish I could have helped. Well, your mother is waiting. Derrick, you and Angel can use my office. I’ll come with you. I’d love to hear more about the work you’re doing to help kids like Angel.”

Sparrow didn’t want to leave them alone with her father, especially Derrick. She twisted bunches of fabric in her hands. Her overbearing father psychoanalyzed everyone. She’d recognized the subtleties in his conversations with people and lines of questions he’d employed years ago. Derrick would not appreciate it. Maybe, since they were both doctors, her father would show him some professional courtesy and respect. That didn’t make her feel any better. However, her mother would feel uncomfortable having guests in her private chambers. She turned to Derrick and said, “I’ll be back soon.”

He nodded and smiled. “Spend as much time as you need with your mom.”

Great. Daddy was going to grill Derrick. From the look on Angel’s face, you’d think she’d died and gone to heaven. Her eyes were wide saucers, looking around the foyer at the large paintings, crystal chandelier, and heavy marble-topped tables. Angel ran a finger along the red velvet of the settee. Her father smiled at Angel admiring his priceless possessions, and that eerie feeling of déjà vu settled over Sparrow again.

She sucked in a deep breath and climbed the spiral steps to her mother’s quarters. Her fingers continued to knead the insides of her jacket pockets. The sound of Derrick’s voice echoed behind her. He filled in her father on the unfortunate circumstance Angel met with. Her father invited them to use his office to examine Angel’s ankle. She wondered what Derrick would think of her father’s private medical office and treatment facilities.

Derrick found the Von Langley estate beyond impressive. He laughed inside at how Sparrow had thought his family could afford to live in such a luxurious mansion. Not that his family was destitute, but they certainly didn’t have this kind of fortune. He couldn’t begin to imagine what Angel was thinking as Dr. Von Langley maneuvered them through the house to his private office. When they reached the set of elevator doors, Angel’s mouth gaped. But the opulence didn’t impress him.

They stepped into the elevator, and he was surprised when they descended. Basements were an uncommon feature in California homes. Angel scooted closer to Derrick. She fidgeted with her ratty hair. He gave her a reassuring smile.

“So, Derrick, tell me more about this clinic on wheels.” Dr. Von Langley’s robust voice shattered the silence.

“I have various locations around Los Angeles where I park it and wait for kids who need medical attention. I run the same schedule every week and provide routine care. Much is basic hygiene. I have general pain relievers, antiseptics, toothpaste, toothbrushes—mostly stuff for simple ailments. I can only treat routine illnesses: colds, flu, toothaches, cuts and scrapes, and some infections.”

Dr. Von Langley cupped his chin in his large hand and stroked the sides of his jaw.

“Can I ask how you fund such a thing?”

“I’m a concierge doctor and lucky to have patients who can afford a private doctor. And then there are the volunteers like your daughter. They help make it possible.”

“I see.”

The elevator doors opened, and they stepped out. A thick set of double glass doors greeted them, and Derrick could have sworn they were bulletproof. It struck him as odd. A ring of keys rattled. Dr. Von Langley clicked open the lock and pushed one of the doors. He motioned for them to go in. Derrick and Angel went into the office.

Dr. Von Langley stepped around them so they could follow him. He whisked them past his main office area, complete with an organized desk minus any papers and a long, harsh-looking, tufted burgundy leather couch. Several dark wood filing cabinets lined the wall. Derrick wasn’t familiar with the layout of a therapist’s office, and he was impressed with the ordered and sterile environment. Angel hobbled beside him. Why didn’t Dr. Von Langley stop so he could check her ankle using the couch in his office? He offered Angel his hand.

“How’s the ankle?” Derrick asked.

“Hurts.”

Dr. Von Langley looked back at them. “We’re almost to the exam room.”

Exam room?

Derrick was startled to find an examination table and patient room, the mirror image of one found in any doctor’s office. Clear containers, filled with tongue depressors and cotton swabs, and a box of tissues sat on a low cabinet. A black medical bag was perched on top of a round stool. Dr. Von Langley pulled a fresh sheet of white paper over the exam table, crumpling the previous one and tossing it into a nearby receptacle. Derrick’s eyes widened at the red biohazard container near the trash can. He didn’t think Dr. Von Langley was a medical doctor. He didn’t want to be rude and ask.

“Have a seat up here, Angel. May I?” Derrick motioned toward the stool with the black medical bag. Dr. Von Langley removed the bag and rolled the stool his way.

Angel climbed up on the exam table, crossing her hurt ankle over the top of her thigh. She removed her filthy tennis shoe, and sand scattered across the floor. She handed it to Derrick. He set it down next to the stool and waited while she hiked her jeans above her ankle and rolled down a dirty, sand-covered sock. The white tissue paper sheet crackled beneath her. She set the sock next to her.

Derrick glanced down at her swollen purple ankle. “That doesn’t look pretty. What do you think, Dr. Von Langley?”

“Oh, I’m not a medical doctor. I wouldn’t know for sure. You’re the expert.”

Derrick’s curiosity about the medical examination room got the best of him. “Oh, I just assumed since you had this room…”

“I only treat the mind. And, occasionally, a simple ailment,” he replied, resting a hand on the handle of a closet door. For someone who didn’t
practice
medicine, Dr. Von Langley certainly had an elaborate office.

“Angel, can you move your ankle for me?” Derrick watched while she carefully wiggled it from side to side. “Can you rotate it around in a circle?”

“Ouch, it hurts.”

Dr. Von Langley drew closer to them.

“Wow, it’s really swollen,” Dr. Von Langley said. “Do you think it’s broken or sprained?”

“Hard to say without an X-ray. Let me try some manipulations.”

Derrick reached for a pair of surgical gloves on the top of the cabinet. He snapped the gloves on, wondering what a therapist had surgical gloves for. He wrapped his hand around Angel’s foot and slowly moved it. “I think it might be a sprain. The best thing we can do is wrap it, and you should take some pain relievers to help keep the swelling down. It wouldn’t be a bad idea for you to elevate and ice it, either, and stay off it.”

“Sure, doc. I’ll go home and take it easy for a while.” Her sarcasm didn’t get past him.

Dr. Von Langley glanced at his watch. “You know, Dr. Sloan, it’s getting late. Why don’t you leave Angel here? She can get a good night’s sleep, and I’ll have the chef make her whatever she wants. You and Sparrow can check on her tomorrow.”

Derrick was surprised by Dr. Von Langley’s offer, but grateful. The man was a doctor. Perhaps his compassion for Angel had spoken. He searched Angel’s face to see her reaction to the offer. “That’s not such a bad idea. Angel?”

She rolled her pale blue eyes and shrugged her shoulders. “Whatever you want. Remember,
you
paid for me.”

Dr. Von Langley raised his bushy brows at Derrick.

“I did what I had to do because I feel responsible. I probably shouldn’t, considering you and your boyfriend attacked me,” Derrick said, not happy with her snotty answer.

“Whatever.”

Dr. Von Langley stepped up beside Derrick. “Miss Angel, please be more respectful. I’ve offered you my home for the night. You should be grateful to the good doctor.”

She rolled her eyes at Derrick and then batted her lashes at him. “Fine. I’ll stay.”

“Well, now that that’s settled, I’m prescribing RICE treatment,” Derrick said, pulling the plastic gloves from his hands. He tossed them in the trash receptacle.

“That’s an excellent remedy, Derrick. Let me show you the mind therapy room,” Dr. Von Langley said, pulling open a door to the left of the examination table.

Derrick’s curiosity pulled him to take a look. Dr. Von Langley ushered them into the room. Derrick had never been inside of a padded room. He poked a finger into the thick pillowed wall. Angel did the same.

“One regret I have is putting this padded cell here. Come through, there’s a hidden door in the far corner.”

They followed Dr. Von Langley to the left corner of the room. He pressed a spot on the wall, making the invisible pocket door slide into itself. He ushered them into the next room. Things couldn’t have gotten more bizarre, until Derrick found himself moving beyond the white room to a laboratory with gray concrete floors. Angel kept in close proximity to him. The sight of a peach-colored mannequin lying on a hospital bed with its plastic mouth agape and brain exposed came into view. Derrick recognized the high-fidelity human patient simulator. Why would Dr. Von Langley have such a thing in his home? Cords hung near a hospital bed and computer monitors. The simulator worked. Derrick took in the space. Everything here would be found in a patient’s room in a real hospital.

Beyond the mock hospital setting was a chalkboard wall, numerous books, several school desks, and a plasma-screen TV suspended from the ceiling. Derrick felt something gritty under his shoes. He swiped the bottom of his sole. Granules of rice covered the floor.

“Well now, Angel, you’ll need to put on this before we get started,” Dr. Von Langley said, handing her a hospital gown. “Once you’ve changed I’ll have you kneel on the grains of rice. The pain in your ankle will subside as I teach you the technique of focusing on the rice digging into your knees. It’s replacement therapy.”

“Um, Dr. Von Langley, I mean no disrespect, but when I was talking RICE, I was referring to rest, ice, compression, elevation, not food rice. I suppose it’s a contradiction of terms between the medical and psychiatry communities?”

Dr. Von Langley’s face reddened. He cleared his throat and appeared distressed. He ushered them out of the room. “I’m quite embarrassed by my oversight. Well then, let me show Angel to her room.”

Derrick did a quick search of the room they were in. This area of the room was like a classroom. But why? They walked back from the direction they’d come. Derrick paused at the patient simulation lab. What kind of high-definition mannequin was in the hospital bed? He opened his mouth then closed it. Dr. Von Langley appeared agitated and anxious for them to leave. Derrick scraped the rice from his shoes before entering the white padded cell, and found relief beyond the large door and the examination room. Dr. Von Langley locked the large glass doors, and they rode the elevator in silence to the main floor.

“Mother, it’s Sparrow. Daddy says you wanted to see me.”

Her mother, Cora Von Langley, sat at her vanity brushing her bobbed blonde hair. The ends curled in a flip. She wore a pale pink silk peignoir set with pink ballet slippers. She dabbed cream around her eyes and applied balm to her lips. Sparrow waited for her mother to acknowledge her.

Little had changed about her mother’s suite over the years. The creamy walls of the nine-hundred-square-foot master bedroom reflected a soft glow and shadows made possible by the fireplace flames. At the foot of her mother’s king-size bed was a low table where her mother had insisted a fresh bouquet of flowers be kept on the breakfast tray. A blue silk blanket cascaded off the side of the table and matched the glacier-blue floral motif patterned throughout the room in the fabric of the accent chairs and heavy drapes. Several pillows were strewn across the bed’s numerous layered linens. The sheets on her mother’s side of the bed were pulled back, and Sparrow assumed she had gotten out of bed to make herself more presentable.

Her mother’s mental condition had been deteriorating, but Sparrow couldn’t understand why on some days her mother was lucid and others she’d retreat to far-off places in her mind. Familiar with her mother’s routine, Sparrow patiently waited, exploring the room while her mother applied additional creams to her face and pulled at the skin on her cheekbones and eyelids, stretching it taut in an attempt to recapture her youth. Cora Von Langley might have been away from the grand charity balls she’d been privileged to host, but her sense of vanity and pride in her appearance hadn’t changed. She tipped her lashes with mascara. Finally, she tilted the mirror away from her face and turned to greet Sparrow.

“Hello, sweetheart, I’m so glad you could come. There’s something important I’d like to discuss with you.”

Sparrow waited for her mother to continue, but soon realized she was waiting for a reply. “Mother, it’s good to see you.” She feigned kisses at her mother’s cheeks. “I’m listening.”

“I miss the rose garden. I thought you and I could plant roses this year.” Her mother’s face looked serious. She tapped her manicured nail against the vanity top. When Sparrow didn’t respond, the purposeful gaze in her mother’s eyes turned to disappointment, and she looked away.

“Yes, Mother. That’d be nice. Are you feeling up to it? Daddy says you haven’t been well. He was very concerned when he called me tonight.”

Her mother raised her index finger to her lips. Her eyes scanned the bedroom. In a hushed voice, her mother said, “I’d like to get out more. Your father keeps me cooped up in this room, but I’m okay. Look.” She slid back the robe’s silk fabric and revealed needle marks on her arm.

Sparrow smiled. “Mother, Daddy is only giving you medicine so you’ll feel better.”

Her mother shook her head, looking agitated. “No. Something has been different. I don’t need it. Sweetheart, you have to believe me.”

“Mother, calm down. Daddy wouldn’t give you anything to hurt you.”

Over the years her mother had been prescribed numerous medications by her father. Her father claimed the meds calmed her mother’s hypersensitive nature. Her mother had complained to him about the pills and even had questioned him about her vitamins. He’d oblige her and change her vitamins.

Sparrow couldn’t disagree with her father about her mother’s overwhelming need to make things perfect. She’d argue with the housekeeping staff, insisting they keep the house immaculate. As a child Sparrow was not allowed a messy room or unkempt self. At all times she had to look picture perfect. Like her mother.

None of the kids in Crystal Cove were allowed to be kids. The expectations their parents put on them to excel was astronomical. They were all forced to overachieve, and her father counseled each and every one them. Dr. Von Langley was the expert; the parents of Crystal Cove considered it an honor for him to bend the minds of their children.

Her mother got up from the vanity chair and walked toward Sparrow. Her thin, statuesque frame moved with the graceful elegance of a ballerina. The bell sleeves of the silk robe fluttered around her wrists. She looked like a heavenly angel.

“Sweetheart, promise me we can plant soon. I need to get out more. Perhaps we can have a tea in the new garden. Remember the lovely afternoon tea parties I used to host?”

“Yes, Mother, but maybe we should check with Daddy?”

Her mother’s hands trembled. She shook her head. “You just come one morning and tell him you’re going to plant with me.”

“But—”

The intercom interrupted their conversation, and her father’s booming voice sounded into the room. “I’m sending Derrick and Angel up with your tea. I’ll be along shortly.”

Within minutes the housekeeper arrived with them. Her mother withdrew. At one time, Cora had been the social queen of Crystal Cove, but her bouts with depression had become serious, rendering her functionless for long periods. Maybe Daddy was being too overprotective. Sparrow would seriously consider stopping by to plant the garden and plan an afternoon tea party with her mother.

Sparrow greeted Derrick and Angel at the door and took the cup of tea from the tray the housekeeper held. Politely she waved the housekeeper away and ushered Derrick and Angel into the room, making the proper introductions to her mother.

Derrick offered his hand to Cora, but she didn’t accept it. Sparrow turned to her mother, surprised by the fear in her eyes. She set down the cup of tea on her mother’s desk and went to her. Cora latched on to her arm. Her tightening grip startled Sparrow.

“Mother, what it is?”

Derrick dropped his outstretched hand to his side. “Mrs. Von Langley, are you all right?”

Sparrow recognized the doctor’s concern in his voice. Angel distracted her attention from her mother. The girl walked around her mother’s room in awe.

“What’s she doing here?” Cora asked. “You were not ever supposed to come back. Sparrow helped you leave.” Angel, enthralled by the opulence of Cora’s suite, hadn’t paid attention to a word she’d said. “Oh, dear, Sparrow, how’d she find you?”

The hairs on the back of Sparrow’s neck stood up. Her mother had the same reaction to Angel that she’d had when Camo-boy thrust her forward and Sparrow met her pale blue eyes. Was it possible the vision of the dead girl in the ocean, the same girl she saw in her home and in her yoga studio, was a piece of her past? Was the girl trying to tell her something? But what?

“Mother, I think you’re confusing Angel with someone else?”

Her mother shook her head, and Sparrow grew more agitated. Did her mother know about the girl she’d helped run away? How she had crept out of the house without either of her parents knowing, or so she thought. The new fragment of information seeped into her brain. Could her mom help her remember the girl’s name?

“No,” Cora said fiercely. “I remember.”

“Mrs. Von Langley, what do you remember?” Derrick asked. A curious look saturated his eyes. Like Derrick, Sparrow suspected her repressed memory and her mother’s comment could be related.

“Mother, what is it?”

Cora shook her head. Sparrow followed her mother’s eyes to her bedroom door. Her father filled the doorframe. The severe look on his face evaporated when he realized all eyes were on him.

“Darling, what has you so upset?” Dr. Von Langley said to his wife. He walked over to her and opened his arms, pulling her into an embrace. “Hmm. Tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. The girl, she looks so familiar. I’m confused. I’d like to rest now.”

Sparrow didn’t like the way her mother cowered from her father, as if retracting her statement. Sparrow’s stomach curdled. Dread lurked and tapped her on the shoulder, confirming the connection she suspected existed between her and the dead girl.

“Angel is one of Derrick’s patients. She needs our help, darling. I’ve invited her to stay until her ankle heals.”

“What?” Sparrow said. “But Derrick, I thought she was going back to the beach. You don’t even know if her ankle is broken.”

“It’s a bad sprain. A few days off her feet will help. I don’t see a problem with her staying here. Why are you upset?”

Angel walked around her mother’s room, picking up decorations and lightly touching the linens covering Cora’s bed. Sparrow noticed how carefully she handled things, and her heart went out to the girl who had nothing. Why was she reacting like this?

“I’m sorry. It’s been a long night. Daddy, thank you.” She went to her mother, surprised when Cora pulled her close and tightly hugged her.

Her mother whispered in her ear, “Promise me we’ll plant the rose garden.”

“Come, darling, let me help you into bed. Sparrow, take your guests downstairs. I’ll see you out in a few minutes.”

Her father pulled her mother from her arms. She couldn’t remember a time in her life when Cora had hugged her more fiercely. Her mother’s aura of anguish seeped from her energy channels. Sparrow sensed the turmoil overwhelming her. She had to find a way to talk to her mother without her father present. She had to know what her mother remembered about the night she’d run away to the beach with the girl who turned up dead.