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It's a crime story, but it's more...it's two older siblings who find forgiveness. |
Bonnie Moore 3/17/2020 Chapter 1. Her cell phone rang, and Betty, a mature woman dressed in a navy suit, answered on the first ring, "Hello." It was Thursday morning and she had just finished a meeting with her boss regarding a legal case she was managing. "This is Helen DeVos calling from the Davis County Hospital Emergency Room. I'm looking for Betty Graves." "Speaking." Betty said crisply. "I have a business card with your name on it. For verification, would you give me the name of your employer?" Betty gave her the name of the law firm in Salt Lake City where she worked. "Your card was found in the wallet of one of our patients. Do you know someone named Larry Singleton?" "Yes, he's my brother." She slowed in the hallway and paid close attention. "Can you verify his birthday and his address?" Betty, growing concerned, took a deep breath and gave her the information. "Your brother was in a serious auto accident yesterday. We haven't been able to find any other close relatives. Are you able to come to the hospital in Layton?" "I'm his only close relative," she said urgently, tensely sitting at her desk. "Please, tell me, what happened?" Ms. DeVos declined to say more, gave her the hospital's address, and asked Betty to come to the Emergency Room and ask for her. Betty immediately notified her boss, cancelled her dinner plans for the evening, and asked her assistant to cancel all appointments for the next day. From her downtown office, consumed by concern for the brother she barely knew, she drove home to Murray, a suburb, changed into casual clothes, grabbed medications in case she was delayed, and headed north on I-15 to the hospital which was about 45 minutes away. ##### It had only been ten days since Betty walked in the door of the Outback restaurant in Layton, Utah late in the afternoon on a quiet September Saturday in the year 2020, nervously scanning the parking lot for the person she was planning to meet. She had dressed casually in a pale blue sweater and jeans. Even though she was seventy-four years old, she still had the gait of someone in charge. She had not been in touch with her older brother since he had become angry with her sixteen years ago. Growing up, she and her younger sister had made fun of him because he struggled in school, was always awkward, and seldom had friends. He had barely graduated from high school, while she and her sister both had achieved advanced degrees. He had worked in a warehouse, while they were successful in their careers. He had retired at the age of forty-three to take care of their mother for fifteen years until her death in the year 2000. The sisters had married; he had not. After her own retirement from a stressful full-time career, Betty had moved back to her home state, and after much thought, decided to attempt reconciliation. She sent him a birthday card, with a gift card for the Outback, for his 77th birthday, not knowing if he would respond. It took a while, but he finally called and they made plans. She had hoped to arrive first, but he was already sitting in the waiting area, cautiously looking around. He recognized her and stood up. "Larry," she said, slowly reaching out her hand, "It's good to see you after such a long time." He was still very tall, with the same full head of curly brown hair, but thinner than she had remembered. She noticed that he made no eye contact, didn't offer a hug, or even a handshake, and his eyes seemed glued to the floor. Turning toward the hostess, she said, "Two for dinner," and they followed to a quiet table. After being seated, he took the gift card out of his shirt pocket, "What's this?" His expression was tight-lipped and accusatory. She was surprised that he didn't know, but when she was younger, she had become accustomed to answering these types of questions from him, "It's called a gift card. When you want to give someone a gift, but don't know what to buy. It's worth $25 at this restaurant. You use it like a credit card." "Why did you send it?" "It was a birthday present." He tried to hide the emotion on his face revealing that no one had given him a present for a very long time. His posture was rigid and he seemed to hold his breath. His eyes glistened as he took off his glasses and reached up to stop a tear. She suspected that he lived as a hermit. "What do you want? I'm not giving you any money, if that's it." "I'm doing fine, don't need any money. I moved back here to be near my son, Steve, and my grandkids." She paused, "I thought maybe you and I could reconnect since we're the only ones left from our family." "Steve doesn't talk to me. I haven't seen his kids since that birthday party when they were little." His eyes remained fixed on the salt and pepper shakers in front of him. "That could change. I remember the last time we visited, you had just bought a keyboard piano and you were going to learn to play it. How's that going?" "I like to play it." "Do you still play chess?" "Yes. I play online, mostly." The waitress arrived, brought water and silverware, and they ordered. Betty pulled a small black device from her purse, punched a button, and looked at it. "What's that?" he said. Larry picked up his spoon offhandedly, as if checking to see if it was clean. "It's a meter for my diabetes. It tracks my blood sugar reading every five minutes. I have the family illness, remember?" She showed the meter to him and explained how it worked. "Now I have to give myself insulin for the food I just ordered." She discretely reached under her sweater and pulled out another small black device attached to a narrow tube. "This is an insulin pump." She entered some numbers, showed him what she was doing, and explained how it worked. He watched attentively, but still didn't make eye contact. "How long have you had diabetes?" He began gently rubbing the outside of the spoon's bowl, gently at first, but it seemed to pick up speed. "Thirty years." "Marie should have had that meter," he said, referring to their deceased younger sister. He laid the spoon by his water glass in an upside down position and put his hand over the bowl, protecting it. "She was diagnosed as a child over 60 years ago. I was diagnosed as an adult. This meter only came out a couple of years ago." She smiled and thought, My bonding efforts are starting to work. It may not be much, but he's talking to me. Larry's sirloin and her chicken salad came, and there were moments of silence as they ate. "Larry, remember when we lived on the Air Force base in Newfoundland? I have a family picture taken at Christmas in 1949 that hangs on my wall." He grimaced, "I don't remember much." "I remember starting first grade there. You were probably in third grade. The school was one of those military buildings, and our playground was inside because it was always so cold," she reminisced. "The best thing I remember about Newfoundland was the sledding hill near the housing area. Marie and I used to go sledding there all the time!" He said nothing, breathed more deeply, and had a faraway look on his face. He seemed to be filled with memories that he didn't want to talk about, so she changed the subject. "I moved back to Utah about a year ago. I don't really like being retired, so I found a part-time job at a law firm." "Why do you need to work?" "I don't need to...I enjoy staying involved, I like having a job to go to, on a part-time basis." She smiled, whimsically. "I also do volunteer work and go to the gym. I'm busier now than when I was working full-time!" She reached into her purse, pulled out a small brass case, and opened it. "Here...here's my business card." He took the card, stared at it for a few seconds, and said, somewhat sarcastically, "Well, I have a sister who is a lawyer." He took his wallet out, and slipped the card in it. "Are you saving your money from the job?" "I use the money to travel. I bought a SUV and I've been exploring on the weekends." She paused, "Maybe you would like to go with me sometime? There are some very interesting historical sites around here." "I don't need to go anywhere. You should save your money." "Oh, Larry, I've been all over the world. Life has been interesting and I love exploring. I've had some great adventures...I love traveling and meeting new people." "I don't go places. I need to go to church on Sundays. You need to go. You were baptized Catholic and will always be Catholic, no matter what you think. You need to come back to the church, ask forgiveness, and save your soul." "Can we put religion aside? I've come to terms with it in a different way...can we just accept that?" He seemed disturbed, confused, and unable to respond. Finally, he blurted, "What happened to Dennis? When you get married you are supposed to stay married." He picked up the spoon and with gentle force, put it back down, making a slight noise as if to get her attention. She noticed that he used the spoon when he seemed agitated but tried to hide it by acting with feigned authority. "Marriages are hard. There isn't much more to say. I sold the house three years ago. I love not having all that stuff, and not having a big house!" "I guess I missed all of that trouble." He tried to laugh, but it was awkward because he sounded lonely. "I like having my big house. I use all of it." He had inherited the five-bedroom family home where the family had moved after their father retired from the military. She knew Larry to be a hoarder, and imagined the house filled with useless stuff. She had tried to discard their mother's clothes and personal belongings after her funeral, but he had saved everything from the trash. She imagined that one of the bedrooms had become a shrine. He finally sighed and said, "I keep the garden going." "Wow, that would be a lot of fresh vegetables! Do you still have the fruit trees?" "Yes. We eat it. I put up the rest for later." He picked up the spoon again and vigorously rubbed it for about thirty seconds. She paused. She had heard 'we' and wasn't sure what to make of it, wondering if he had made a simple mistake, but didn't want to correct him. The check came. Larry pulled out his gift card, proud that he knew what to do, and it almost covered his share without a tip. Betty hesitated briefly, wondering whether to bring it up, but instead, put her own credit card down, signaled the waitress, and paid the balance, including a nice tip. "It would be nice to see you again. Would you like to come down my way, and we could have dinner again?" "I don't know any places. I don't go to the city." "Would you like to meet here again?" He seemed hesitant as if he was reaching for courage, and put the spoon down, "Yes. I could do that." They made plans to meet again in two weeks, same day, same time, same place. Walking out together, she had hoped for a casual hug, but it didn't happen. As they said goodbye, she tried to catch his eye briefly, but he looked away. Driving home, she felt that the initial meeting had been successful but challenging, and pondered the mysterious 'we.' ###### "I think you're right." Betty settled comfortably in the leather recliner at her therapist's office. "I think Larry could be on the spectrum. They didn't have it when we were growing up. You called it undiagnosed autism." She paused, "Since you first suggested it, I've been reading about autism and it's changing how I think of him. We didn't know better, and used to say he was a slow learner." Betty had been working with Cynthia, her therapist, for several months to address a number of lingering issues, including remnants of a painful childhood. Reconnecting with her brother was part of Betty's plan to put these memories to rest. "What did you notice?" asked Cynthia, a tall middle-aged woman, sitting in her wingback chair. "For starters, he couldn't make eye contact. He's always been very awkward in social settings. I wouldn't want to say more because I'm not an expert, but I know he's obsessive about playing chess, to the point where everything depends on whether you will play with him. That's why he stopped talking to me...I wouldn't play chess with him, or let me say, I couldn't play and didn't want to learn." "How did this meeting change how you feel about him?" "My mother always said that something went wrong when he was born, and it was her fault. I remember her saying that he didn't talk until he was almost six, and I remember how she always protected Larry from my father." She paused, "Marie and I were close in age and had our own world, and Larry wasn't part of it. Marie and I sided with my father when he taunted Larry." "You mentioned once that Larry started to act like your father when he got older." "Larry was once artistic, very artistic. His drawings had strong lines, deep colors, and intense feelings. When we were younger, I used to ask if he was still drawing, but he said he had stopped. He became obsessed about money, like my dad. He began criticizing everything, and was very macho about women. It's almost like he had to become like our father to finally feel accepted. He now lives in the house my dad built, and tends the garden my dad had." "You still have strong opinions about your father. Are you going to be able to see Larry as a separate person, someone who is not your father?" Betty looked at her thoughtfully, breathing quietly, "I don't know, but I have to try." ###### Driving home from this session, Betty thought about her first conversation with Cynthia, who had asked, "Did you feel loved as a child?" With very little hesitation, but with a heavy heart, Betty had answered, "No," and explained that she had been the middle child, although she often seemed like the oldest, and had to fight for attention. Her mother had hovered over her reclusive brother, and her father had strongly favored her sickly younger sister who had almost died from childhood diabetes. Betty felt that she had escaped their bizarre family dynamic by fending for herself as an unsure, but outwardly confident, teenager, but as an adult, she was haunted by a feeling of abandonment. She related how her parents had hastily married right after the Pearl Harbor attack when people were startled into war and were making sudden decisions, and how they had barely known each other. He was a robust Southern Baptist boy recently off the farm and in the military, and she was an Irish Catholic city girl, who had initially wanted to become a nun. It was a very bad match, but they had stayed together because the children came quickly, and both felt that divorce was wrong. Her father had become a career military officer, demanded obedience, and belittled his wife as always being influenced by her religion, and always wrong. He made all of the family decisions, and his way of disciplining had been to keep very tight purse strings, withhold allowances, and threaten to take away inheritances when his commands were not followed. As the children became teenagers, Betty was the only one who developed independence as a normal teenager, and she was punished severely with rejection and emotional abuse. Becoming strong and independent was her only way of surviving. In later years, the family anger calmed down, but she always carried the pain of her childhood. "Yes," she thought, "Larry is imitating, but it's only a shadow."
Chapter 2. The hospital was immediately off the Interstate, and was easy to find. Betty hurried in and found the clerk who had called her and who, once again, made her go through an identification procedure. After taking a short history, the clerk designated Betty as Larry's next-of-kin when it was clear there was no one else, and directed her to Dr. Anderson who was in a fourth floor ward. He was an older man in green scrubs, with a kind face, and greeted her with a warm smile when she introduced herself as Larry Singleton's sister. "According to the police, your brother was in a crosswalk and was hit by a speeding car," Dr. Anderson said cautiously, "His injuries are serious, with broken bones. But even at his age, he should recover." He pulled a card for the investigating officer from his pocket, gave it to her, and suggested that she contact him. "Can I see Larry?" "Not right now. When he came in, we gave him a strong sedative so we could set the bones." She felt a sense of frustration. "Is there anything I can do?" "He will be here for awhile. He's been admitted. You may want to bring some things from home that he might want." He paused thoughtfully, "Do you know his medications? We need to give him some fairly strong medications, but we need to know what he is already taking first. We haven't been able to find a medical history on him." "No, I don't know his medications," Betty said. "I don't have access to his house." Dr. Anderson furrowed his brow for a moment, and suggested that they go back downstairs to the clerk's desk. "Are you the next-of-kin?" he asked as they entered the elevator. "I'm his only living close relative." Approaching the clerk's desk, Dr. Anderson checked the next-of-kin designation and asked, "Did we find any personal belongings for Mr. Singleton?" The clerk nodded. "Are there any keys?" he asked. The clerk got up and went to the storage locker for patient belongings and brought back a small basket containing Larry's wallet and a few items from his pockets. Dr. Anderson picked up a set of keys, "Here, I will release his keys to you so you can look for his medications." He signed the forms, gave Betty his contact information, and as they walked back down the hall, he asked her to call as soon as she could. "Doctor," she stopped and hesitated, "Just for your information...." She wasn't sure if she should say it, but did anyway, "There's a possibility that my brother is someone with undiagnosed autism, high-functioning, but still on the spectrum. There are some hints, but I don't know for sure. He might be very scared when he wakes up and finds himself here." He looked at her kindly, "Thank you for telling me. We'll look for it. In the meantime, you need to come back as soon as you can. He needs people around that he knows." ###### Driving to Larry's house, about five minutes away, Betty was haunted by dvu feelings from the day her sister, Marie, was killed in a car accident at the age of forty-two. She had stopped at an intersection, and was hit by a runaway semi-truck that had lost its brakes. As a child of ten, she had struggled with diabetes at a time when a childhood diagnosis was almost fatal and treatment was inadequate. She got it under control, and was finally permitted to go away to college and later, was able to establish a career as a diabetes researcher. Their parents had been devastated by her death, and never recovered emotionally, and Betty still missed her sister as if it was yesterday, always carrying with her the thoughts that should have been expressed. In spite of the doctor's assurances, Betty was haunted by her memories of losing someone suddenly in a tragic accident. My God, a similar day is in the middle of happening and I won't be able to reconcile with Larry. I need this as much as he does! Pulling into Larry's driveway and seeing the one-story yellow brick facade, she was momentarily hit with a flood of bad memories from living in this house as a teenager. Quickly snapping out of it, she returned to the present and realized that because Larry had been hit in a crosswalk, his car must be parked somewhere near the accident scene, and she would have to track it down and get it back to the house. She tried several of his keys in the side entrance door until she found the right one, pushed the door open, and slipped the keys into her pocket. Walking into the kitchen, she was not surprised by the clutter on the maple cabinets, and even recognized the ancient toaster, the same copper-colored appliances, and the old plastic-backed yellow and orange flowered tablecloth on the kitchen table. A tray with two sets of dirty Corningware plates and bowls sat to the left of the kitchen sink. Much of the counter was covered with canning equipment and supplies, as if Larry was preparing to use it. A pile of bright red tomatoes still attached to their stems sat on a dishtowel on the other side of the sink alongside garden clippers. It looked like he had been in the middle of a canning session, and had probably gone on an errand for supplies. Leaving her purse on the table, Betty walked through the kitchen to the musty smelling living room and saw his keyboard piano in its prominent position in front of the window, alongside the faded and dusty Early American furniture that their parents had purchased more than fifty years before. Her mother's old piano was on the opposite wall, its keys covered, the doilies still in place on the back. She lifted the corner of one doily slightly and a delicate pattern of dust filtered through the design. She glanced back and noticed the headphones attached to Larry's keyboard, and a pile of music books on the floor. A worn pattern in the carpet outlined Larry's path to and from the kitchen to the keyboard. Slowly, she turned and moved down the hallway, resisting the temptation to look into the two smaller bedrooms. Turning left into the master bedroom, she entered Larry's room...it still had the pale green walls from many years ago, and the gold wall-to-wall carpeting was badly worn and stained. A clutter of computer equipment on a table took up one wall. The room was filled with an unmade double bed, old dressers, a couple of small filing cabinets and piles of smelly dirty clothes. Above his bed hung the same painting of a youthful Jesus throwing thieves out of a temple, the painting that their Mother had always insisted on hanging, and that had angered their father. Palm leaves from an ancient Palm Sunday were taped to the frame. Larry has stayed attached to mother's church, she thought dryly. The master bath wasn't clean, but it was usable, she thought, but the pink and green tile really needed to go! Rummaging through the medicine cabinet, she found one half-filled prescription bottle that she recognized as a blood pressure pill, but nothing else. The date had long expired. Either he isn't taking any medication, or he keeps it elsewhere. She slipped the prescription bottle into her pocket just in case. Betty stopped for a minute. She heard a tapping noise coming from somewhere in the house, maybe the basement. Yes, it is something. It sounds like steady tapping on metal. A furnace problem? Water heater? Something is loose? She walked back down the hall. The noise got a little louder and seemed faster and urgent. Is there someone in the house? Should I be afraid? Her adrenaline surged and her breathing became tense. Urgently, Betty continued her task by searching the hall bathroom for prescriptions, and briefly looked in a couple of kitchen cabinets, finding nothing. The tapping continued. She hesitated. Should I look for the sound, call the doctor, or leave very quickly? Curiosity overcame her fear. She found the door leading to the basement stairs, and opened it. The tapping was more like banging. It will only take a minute. She crept down the stairs. What if something is in need of serious repair? At the bottom of the stairs, she turned to enter the old family room and flipped the light switch. Part of the large room had an old counter with stools, including a bar sink with cabinets behind it. A small table and chairs were nearby. This area was jammed with half filled boxes and broken furniture. The nearby walls were covered with uncontrolled swashes of red, black, and dark green paint. Large unframed painted canvasses were scattered everywhere. Timidly, she moved one of the canvasses and viewed a painting of lightning flashes hitting a dark house in a rainstorm. The banging noise grew louder and there was another sound. She thought, It reminded her of a trapped cat somewhere in the distance wailing for help. Creeping further into the family room, she saw that the small casement windows allowed the sun to cast shadows on a modern flat screen TV in front of an ancient brown couch, with a black leather recliner on one side and her mother's old wooden rocking chair on the other side. In all corners were boxes filled with papers haphazardly piled on top of each other. She turned into the short hallway leading to two bedrooms. The wailing was louder. The banging was louder. Betty's heart pounded. She opened the first bedroom door and came face-to-face with a thin young woman in an old fashioned dress who was chained to an iron bed, her feet in shackles. She had been banging a spoon against the metal chains.
Chapter 3. Betty gasped and rushed to the frail girl. She bent down so she could look directly in her face. "Are you OK?" "I thought it was him," she said, timidly raising her pale blue eyes. She blurted out, "I'm very hungry. He didn't give me any food yesterday." "Larry was in a car accident. He's in the hospital. I'm his sister," Her heart was pounding. Betty looked directly in her eyes, saying softly, "I will take care of you," She fearfully tried to grasp the situation, unnerved. All of her training and experience as a prosecutor flashed before her eyes, and her immediate instinct was to go into lawyer mode, but she hesitated, realizing the potential impact on a very scared victim. Betty also thought about calling the police, but worried about the prospect of the victim becoming scared and shutting down. She had been in charge of prosecuting sex crimes, and had been in many situations where victims wouldn't talk. "You're going to be OK." Betty looked around quickly to decide what to do first. Instinctively, she knew she must gain the girl's trust by attending to her immediate needs and she could see that the girl was very delicate and needed tender care first. "I'm going upstairs right now and get you some food." She backed out of the room, frantically ran back, stumbled up the stairs, and rushed to the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, she saw basics and instinctively pulled out the white bread. Larry, what have you done? She thought. What is it about your life that brought you to this? You have always followed the morality of your church. You must have known this was wrong, or have you been influenced by the church sex scandals? She needed to fix something in a hurry and searched for edibles. She knew where the peanut butter and honey had been kept when she lived there, and found butter on the table. In a small bowl, she mixed the peanut butter, honey, and butter, stirring it with more passion and anger than needed. Finally, she tasted it; and spread the mixture on the bread. Pulling a small banana from a fruit bowl, she sliced half of it and laid slices in the peanut butter before added the top slice of bread. Sweet young girl, she thought, wondering how Larry fed her, this is the best I can do for you quickly. I hope you like peanut butter. I hope I can make you feel comfortable and respected. She placed the sandwich on a clean plate along with a fresh tomato that she sliced into wedges, and poured a glass of milk. Clearing the dirty dishes from the nearby tray, she added the new items, sprinkled salt on the tomatoes, tore off a paper towel and folded it like a napkin, got a fork, and headed down the stairs, realizing that she had an overwhelming new challenge. With the tray on her lap, the young woman rapidly, but silently, ate the sandwich and never lifted her eyes. Betty flipped on the light switch and silently assessed that the girl would not be a problem if the chains were removed. She took Larry's keys out of her pocket, found the key for the lock on the chain, unlocked it, and pulled the chain and shackles away. Betty scanned the barren room and noticed the dirty white walls and small window. The old bed with a sagging mattress was covered with a dirty green blanket and old white sheets. Next to the bed was a small wooden table, and on the nightstand were three books with religious titles. Prominent on the wall above the bed was a large crucifix; in the corner was a smelly bucket that was used as a toilet. There was no place for Betty to sit, so she went back to the area near the stairs and fetched a straight back chair. When the food was gone, Betty took the tray, put it on the floor outside the door, and returned to her chair. She understood how important it was to treat the girl with dignity and not as a victim. "I'm here to help you. My name is Betty. Would you tell me your name?" The girl looked around carefully, answering, "My name was Melissa." Her eyes were fearful, her speech hesitate. "How long have you been here?" "I'm not sure what year it is. He made me stay here when I was 13. I was born in 1996. I haven't been upstairs since I've been here, but I've grown into the clothes, see...." She stood up and held out the sides of the skirt. Betty stared at the thin girl, with long straggly dark brown hair, about five feet five inches tall, who, she realized, was 23. She didn't really fill out the dark yellow and white striped shirtwaist dress that she was wearing. The belt hung loose. "Does he buy clothes for you?" "He brings me a clean dress once a week and takes the dirty one. I get them so that I will be clean on Sundays. He gave me this sweater last time when I was cold. He also brings the shoes," she said, showing her a pair of well-worn low heel matronly shoes that were too big for her. Betty stared at the white sweater with embroidered peach-colored flowers. It looked familiar. Her eyes widened and glazed over as she remembered giving the sweater to her mother many years before. She winced and frowned as she asked, "Is he dressing you in my mother's clothes?" "I don't know where they come from." Melissa sat on the edge of the bed again. "He calls me 'mother' when he wants me to sit on the couch with him. He says I'm 'Geraldine' now, not 'Melissa' anymore." "That was my mother's name." Betty swallowed hard, pulling back slightly. "You can be Melissa now, if you want...," She couldn't go on. My God, Larry has created a psychological fantasy. He has not come to grips with mother's death. Has this girl been pulled into his fantasy? To Melissa, she said, "I came here to get Larry's medications. I need to call the doctor and give him some information." Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she realized there was almost no reception in the basement. "I'm going upstairs to make a phone call. I will be right back and would like to talk to you more." "No one is allowed to use the telephone. He told me it was locked up." Betty showed her cell phone to Melissa and patiently explained that phones had changed a lot, she had her own phone and didn't need Larry's phone. She took the tray, and with a feeling of heavy deliberation, went upstairs, put the dishes in the sink, grabbed another banana, sat at the kitchen table, dialed the doctor's number, and left a message as she broke off pieces of the banana, "Dr. Anderson, this is Larry Singleton's sister. I won't be able to come back today. I found only one very old prescription for him. I will give you the info and you may be able to track down his personal doctor." She carefully read the name of the pharmacy, the prescription number, and other information from the label. Hanging up, she collapsed on the table with emotional exhaustion, burying her head on her crossed arms, and closing her eyes to block out what she had seen. She didn't know what to do next. Calling the police was necessary, but her heart ached. In her career, she put men in jail for situations like this, and now she was on the other side and longed to have a relationship with her last remaining family member. The delicate trust that I have begun to build with Larry will be forever broken, and he will feel betrayed. Focusing on her newly identified theory, she wondered, If he is autistic, does that have any bearing on this? She thought about Melissa, and wondered what her family had gone through for the past ten years. As a prosecutor of sex crimes, she had met so many family members who had been devastated by anguish, and she had become emotionally hardened when the judicial outcomes had failed the families. I am now a devastated family member of the person who committed the crime. How do I handle this? And Melissa, she had so many questions about her. What had happened to her? Has she aligned with the fantasy? What emotional bonds have been established with Larry? Will she defend him? Can she accept what has happened to her and recover? Will she tell her story? ##### Finally rising from the table, Betty realized that the day's tension had spiked her blood sugar. She adjusted her insulin pump dosage and reached into her purse for her blood pressure meds. She needed to calm her frayed nerves, but she also needed to talk to Melissa more, and was afraid of what she would hear. She knew from years of working with crime victims that she needed to develop a rapport before any progress could be made, and as a woman who was outraged by the crime, she needed to keep her calm and work towards a solution. She went to the hall closet where her mother had kept extra blankets, and found two that she carried downstairs along with the fruit bowl. Melissa was still in her room sitting on the edge of the bed. "I brought down some blankets and something to snack on. I thought maybe we could sit on the couch and talk some more, if you don't mind." "Am I allowed to come out if he isn't here?" "Yes," Betty said quietly, gently wrapping a soft blanket around Melissa's shoulders, as a mother would, and helping her up. They walked the short distance to the family room together, and each of them curled up with a blanket in a corner of the couch. Betty suspected that Melissa harbored concern about Larry's well-being. "Melissa, Larry is OK but he won't be home from the hospital for quite a while, it's just you and me." The sun was setting outside the windows and quiet darkness settled in. "It's very safe for us, and we can talk. I would like to get to know you." Pausing and giving it a moment, she asked, "Where did you live before coming here?" "I lived with my parents and my two sisters in Ogden." Betty reached for some green grapes and waved slightly to indicate Melissa's circumstances. "Did you know Larry before this happened?" Melissa collected her thoughts slowly. "He says that I am his mother who came back to life to take care of him." She spoke quietly, averting her eyes before finally lifting them to face Betty. "He says I never really belonged in the other family." "Can you remember what happened the day he took you?" "He knew my father at church. They played chess sometimes. I talked to him sometimes after church, just being friendly. He saw me playing the piano one time and told me that he played and wanted me to come over and listen to him." She reached over to the fruit and looked to Betty for permission to take an apple. Betty nodded 'yes' before she continued, "So I said I would. My parents didn't know." "Is that when Larry brought you here and put the chains on you?" "Yes," she said, swallowing. "I had him pick me up from school one day. He played for me, and we talked a lot. He said he was very lonely and wondered if I would come over again. Then he got really strange and said he didn't want me to leave him alone." "How did he get strange?" "I don't remember for sure. He just acted like I couldn't leave him, and finally he picked me up and brought me downstairs. He told me that my parents said it was OK for me to stay." "Did you believe that? Were you scared? Did you try to get away or contact your parents?" "In the beginning, yes, I fought hard. He told me that no one could hear me. He had a rope at first, then told me the chains were necessary until I learned how to behave." "Did he ever take the chains off?" "No. He would unlock it from the bed so I could come in here, but he held onto it." She looked down at her freed ankles. Betty could see sores where the shackles had created blisters. Silence filled the room. "Would you like for me to find some Band-aids for those blisters?" She nodded yes. The question finally had to be asked, and Betty couldn't wait any longer. "What did he want you to do when you were taking care of him?" "He wants me to hold him and sing to him. He wants me to tell him everything is OK, and say 'I love you.'" "He's a big person. How did you manage to hold him?" "Mostly, he sits in that rocking chair. I sit on his lap and hug him. Sometimes, we sit on the couch and he puts his head in my lap." "Did he...," she paused, having difficulty saying the words. As often happened when she questioned victims, her own brutal rape from fifty years ago flashed before her eyes. "Did he ever have sex with you?" She lifted her head, "No." Her gaze was direct. "Did he ever talk about having sex?" "He likes to look at naked pictures of little children. But when he does it, he always tells me, and he wants me to tell him it's a sin and he can't do it again. It's like he is going to confession, and I give him prayers to say so that he will be forgiven." Betty noticed that Melissa spoke as if she expected the behavior to continue. "Did he want to look at naked pictures of you?" "No." She was becoming more comfortable. "One time, he wanted to touch my breasts, but that was all. He was very nervous about it, and never tried again." They continued to talk. Betty, in spite of her crustiness as a prosecutor, and visualizing Larry's behaviors, could not listen anymore, and changed the subject, asking about her family and her sisters. Finally, the day's tension got to her, and she started to fall asleep on the couch. Melissa gently stood up, took Betty's hand and guided her to the recliner, pushing the back down so that she could sleep. She covered Betty with her blanket, took the remaining blanket, and went back to her bedroom to sleep. Chapter 4. Betty awoke with the dawn on Friday morning, momentarily confused, and realized that she had been asleep in the recliner. Inching out of the chair, she stretched to get the kinks out, and found her way to the downstairs bathroom. Emerging after freshening up, she saw that Melissa was stirring and stopped at her door. I know I must contact the police today, and I must prepare her for what will happen next. "Good morning! Thank you so much for talking to me last night. Would you like to go upstairs with me for breakfast?" "I'm not allowed upstairs." "We could make this an exception. Larry won't mind since he'll be in the hospital all day." She noticed the uncertainty on Melissa's face and shifted focus. "I think I'll go up and try to find some coffee. Please come up as soon as you feel like it. I'll have some breakfast ready." Betty went upstairs, took her meds, and rummaged for food. She found hot chocolate, fixed a cup, and sat at the table, waiting to see what Melissa would do. While waiting, she thought more about her conversation with Melissa. There is something very wrong with Larry's mental state that I never before suspected. I wonder if all of this has happened since I last saw him sixteen years ago, or was he unstable then? He blames himself for mother's death...could he have snapped as a result of that? Would autism have played any part in this? He has always joked about liking little girls, and he was always friendly with them...could he have been a predator before this? It was about thirty minutes before she heard footsteps on the stairs, and Melissa peeked around the corner into the kitchen. Betty said, "Do you like hot chocolate? I could fix you a cup and some cereal." Melissa nodded and cautiously moved into the kitchen and dining area, looking around like a curious kitten as Betty prepared the hot chocolate. Melissa walked over to the keyboard piano in the living room, touching it carefully, "That first day, he played this for me." She pointed to the couch, "I sat there. Sometimes, I can hear him playing when I'm downstairs." Betty put the food on the table, sat down, and Melissa joined her. Carefully studying Melissa's expression, Betty said, "We should probably make some plans." Slowly, she laid out her thoughts, "I need to go meet with the doctor today. Larry probably has some broken bones. He will be OK, but he will need to stay there for a while." Melissa nodded. Betty continued. "I live in Salt Lake City, so I will need to go home at some point." Melissa's face showed concern. "I'm wondering if you could go stay with your parents for awhile." "Oh, no, he says my parents don't want me anymore." "Darling," Betty said gently, "I suspect your parents want you back very much. Even if they haven't seen you for quite a while, they have worried about you. It would be wonderful for them if you could visit. They would love to see you." She waited for a response. Melissa squirmed in her chair, not looking directly at Betty. "I need to take care of him. He tells me all the time that he needs me." "I know, and that can come later. While Larry is in the hospital, someone needs to buy groceries and feed you." "You can do that." "I can't stay very long. I have a job in Salt Lake." "When will he be back?" "I don't know. He has broken bones that need to heal in the hospital." "He said my parents didn't want me. Do you think they will take me back just for a little while?" "Yes." "Will they feed me?" "Yes. They will be happy to feed you." "Will they let me visit him in the hospital?" "I don't know." "Maybe that is what I should do, if I can come back when he needs me." "I can't tell you what they will do." With that 'almost' agreement, Betty moved to the second step of her plan. "There is a process that we need to follow to do this." Melissa stared at her with a trace of defiance on her face as Betty continued. "When you disappeared ten years ago, your parents would have filed a Missing Person's Report. We need to notify the authorities that you aren't missing. They will get in touch with your parents and let them know you are OK and make arrangements for you to be picked up." "Can't we just call my parents?" "I don't know the number." "I don't remember it anymore. Could you just take me? I could show you how to get there." "We need to make sure that the Missing Person's Report is changed so that they won't keep looking for you. That's the best thing to do." She waited to see if Melissa would agree with her. "OK, if you think so." "I will find out what we need to do." Pausing, Betty smiled, "I think you'll be happy to see your parents. By the way, I will need to know what your last name is." "It's Stewart. Melissa Stewart." "Good. I think you made the right decision. I'm going to go see the doctor, and when I come back I will let you know how Larry is. I will also make the arrangements for you to be reunited with your parents, and I will stay with you until you are safely with them." They carried the dishes from the table, and together they cleaned up the kitchen. Betty asked Melissa what she usually did when she was in the house alone. "I read books in my room. He gives me the books to read." She paused. "He also puts the chain on my leg." Betty stopped what she was doing and gently hugged Melissa, saying softly, "I won't ever use that chain," Melissa hesitated momentarily, and hugged back, laying her head on Betty's shoulder. As the embrace ended, she said, "But it would be a good idea for you to read in your room, and please don't answer the door if anyone comes while I am gone." # # # # # Betty called Dr. Anderson and made arrangements to meet him at the hospital on the fourth floor at 11:30. As a precaution when she left the house, she locked the door behind her. After she was in her car, Betty looked up the number and dialed the District Attorney's office and asked to speak to someone in charge of sex crimes. She scheduled an appointment after her visit to the hospital. She arrived at the hospital promptly, parked, and found the doctor. She followed his suggestion that they talk in a quiet visitor's lounge. "How's Larry?" "He has a broken arm and a broken leg where he was hit and there may be a head injury, we aren't certain yet. He's awake now. He's very agitated but he can't go anywhere with his casts on. By the way, thank you for the prescription info...we found a doctor who hasn't seen him for quite a while. Larry seems to be physically healthy otherwise." "There is something I need to tell you." Betty was sitting in an upholstered chair next to the doctor. Apprehensively, she looked around to make sure no one could hear them, and her eyes came to rest on him. "When I went to his house, I found a young woman who was chained up in the basement. She has been there for ten years." Dr. Anderson's shocked expression said it all. Shaking his head, he said, "Ah, now it makes sense. He was extremely agitated about leaving the hospital. We had to give him something to calm him down. When he was coming out of the sedative, he kept saying something about a girl, but he wouldn't tell us what he meant. Is there anything more I should know?" "I talked to the girl last night. She said there was no sexual assault. He fantasizes that she is the reincarnation of our mother, who died twenty years ago. He seems to need her to comfort him as if he is a child." Betty paused, mentally switching to her lawyer mode, "The girl seems to be somewhat caught up in the fantasy. She is very sympathetic and has become totally subjugated. I'm concerned about the Stockholm syndrome right now as the situation unravels." She struggled with a thought for a minute, "Doctor Anderson, I will be going to the District Attorney when I leave here to report the situation and get her rescued. I suspect they will be in touch with you soon. I used to be a prosecutor and handled cased like this. But, he is my brother and I am agonizing over this. I think he has always had mental health issues, and I'm worried that the system won't treat him well." Dr. Anderson spoke gently, "I understand, and based on what you observed, I agree that there are probably some mental health issues. We don't know what will happen, but you are doing the right thing." She winced, knowing he was right, but it was painful to her on another level. Betty asked if she could see Larry, and the doctor took her to his room. Larry's lunch arrived, and she waited in the hall for a minute while the attendant set up the tray and adjusted his bed so that he could eat. "What are you doing here?" Larry asked sarcastically as she entered. "How did they find you?" "The hospital called me. My business card was in your wallet. I'm your next-of-kin. I came because I'm your sister and I am concerned about you. How are you doing?" "I got hit by a car. My arm and leg are broken." His leg was in an unmovable cast anchored to a hook in the ceiling. He lifted his arm cast to show her, reached for the remote with his good right hand, turned down the TV volume, and lifted the cover from his food. He still couldn't look directly at Betty. "So I see. Where did the accident happen?" "I went to St. Rose of Lima Church in Layton. I can my tomatoes for them, and they had some empty jars for me to pick up. Someone hit me when I was going across the road." With his good right hand, he scooped up a forkful of mashed potatoes. "Can I help you cut any of your food? Maybe open that milk carton?" "No, I can do it myself." Using one hand, he furiously struggled with the milk carton until she smiled and gently reached over and pulled the sides apart and poured the milk into a styrofoam cup. Not saying a word, he picked up the spoon and held it intensely, his fingers silently rubbing the back of the spoon's bowl. She brushed off his frustration, "Can I bring you anything? Do you need any toiletries...shaving stuff, toothbrush, anything like that? Maybe something to read?" "No." He was intense as he put the spoon aside and determinedly cut his hamburger steak with his fork. "They won't let me go home." "You can't walk. There is no one to take care of you at home." He looked up, almost as if to say something, but stopped, saying resolutely. "I need to go home. Can you get them to let me out of here? I can take care of myself," and slumped back against the pillow. Betty quietly stood at the end of the bed watching the silent TV commercial while he ate. Finally, she braced herself, took a deep breath, and said, "Larry, I know about the girl." Startled, he jerked his head up, slammed his fork down, and angrily stuttered, "What? How did you find out? It's none of your business!" "I found out. That's all that matters. She is being taken care of now. You don't need to worry about her. She's going back to her mother's house and will be OK." "You bitch! You're a two-bit whore bitch just like everyone said! You are nothing! You ruined yourself when you left the church...God will never forgive you for that or for what you are doing to me! This is your fault. You came here to hurt me...to take my money away! I was fine until you came back! Get Out!...Get Out! I never want to see you again!" Betty backed out of the room with Larry continuing to scream at her, and closed the door. Betty saw Dr. Anderson in the hallway and quickly went over to him. "I told Larry that the girl has been found and is being taken care of. He's extremely upset." "I will give him a sedative immediately," Dr. Anderson said, and motioned for a nurse as Betty left. Chapter 5. Shaken, Betty left the hospital, keyed the District Attorney's address into her GPS and drove to their office in Farmington, the county seat, which was about 30 minutes away. Larry's taunts hurt as she drove. He had voiced the same sentiment, in stronger words rather than innuendo, that her mother had always harbored with her never-ceasing prayers that Betty would turn her back on her 'wayward ways' and return to the church. It would be so easy to walk away from her unforgiving family but as painful as might become, Betty felt she had to stay in the moment and take care of her brother. Walking into the main reception area, she told the receptionist that she had an appointment with Ted Ramsey, the prosecutor in charge of sex crimes, and was shown to his office. He was middle-aged, stocky, dressed in an ill-fitting dark suit, and had the same cold expression on his face that many overworked legal professionals have. "Mr. Ramsey, thank you for meeting me on such short notice," She said as she was introduced and sat down across from him at his conference table, feeling an alignment with him. "I have information regarding a young woman who was kidnapped about ten years ago." "What's her name, and what do you know about the case?" Betty provided Melissa's full name, the year of her birth, approximately when and how the kidnapping occurred, and a brief description of her. He turned to his assistant, and asked her to search for the case. To Betty, he said, "How did you get involved in this?" "First, let me tell you that I was the prosecutor in charge of the sex crimes unit in D.C. until I retired two years ago. I know how stressful these cases are." She paused, "And, this one is especially difficult for me. The perpetrator is my brother...." She continued to tell him the facts leading up to Mellissa's discovery in chains and how Larry was still in the hospital. "Why didn't you call the police immediately?" "I had indications that the victim had formed an emotional bond with my brother, and I was concerned that she might become a non-cooperating victim. I spent some time talking to her last night, and tried to gain her confidence." She paused, "This morning, I convinced her that she should go stay with her parents, so she is waiting for me to make those arrangements. I didn't make any misrepresentations, but I didn't say anything about this being a criminal case against Larry." He stared at her with the glare of a prosecuting attorney ready to pounce. "You may be accused of illegally tampering with the witness. You should have known the rules." His elbow can to rest on the arm of his chair, his hand came to his chin as if he was concentrating, and his tone softened, "You're talking about the Stockholm syndrome, aren't you?" "Yes, we ran into that a few times in D.C. It's frustrating. I learned that you can't rush into a case without a cooperating witness." "You probably should have reported it immediately, and let us handle the matter. But then again, we don't get many abduction cases here, and we haven't had to deal with the Stockholm response yet." He shifted in his chair, reached for a yellow legal pad, and starting taking notes. "Tell me everything that you and she talked about, and what was said." Betty obliged. While she was relating the conversations, his assistant walked in with detailed information on the original missing person's case. He stopped taking notes and briefly read the report. "I remember this case. It was all over the news with a big search, but no one was ever found." Turning to Betty, he handed her the report and said, "Are you sure this is the right girl?" Betty reviewed the report, "Everything here matches what I know, and the picture is close enough to be her." He turned to his assistant, "Please try to reach the parents. Make sure they know it's a preliminary call." After she had relayed her conversations with Melissa, Betty said, "I also want you to know that I suspect that my brother has undiagnosed autism. He is high-functioning, but he was born before the autism diagnosis was developed. He had a very difficult life growing up because no one understood what was wrong." "He still committed a crime and belongs in jail." Pausing for a moment, he asked, again ready to take notes, "Tell me why you suspect that?" She described his symptoms, relayed a brief history, and mentioned her conversations with her therapist. He continued, "Autism does not qualify someone for a legal defense of insanity, and in Utah we have a very strict definition of legal insanity. What is your theory on how this should affect the outcome of the case?" "I totally agree that a crime has been committed. It sounds like she initially went to his house willingly, and was forced to stay. It's clearly a kidnapping or abduction charge. She said there was no sexual misconduct, and it sounds more like a psychological fantasy situation, which may indicate legal insanity. You may have an inability to understand criminal intent. He probably belongs in psychiatric care." "We have very little in the way of psychiatric care for inmates in this state. Our approach is more like 'If you do the crime, you do the time.'" "He's seventy-seven years old. He has no criminal history. What is the possibility of getting him out on bail?" "On a charge of kidnapping and holding a victim for ten years? Zero. No bail. Don't waste your time even asking for it." "Can we get a mental health evaluation?" "Possible, but difficult. Even if you do, the jail is full of people with mental health issues waiting to get into the state mental health hospital. It's a practical problem... there's no room in the inn." She heard a dismissive tone in his voice. "I understand, but I can't just let him go to prison. He would be destroyed, and that really isn't necessary." She got up from her chair and paced the office. "I understand where you're coming from, and I will work with you. I have already been cooperative because I made sure the victim would be cooperative. I'm hoping that you will take that into consideration." "There is one remote possibility for you to look into. A new diversion program was passed just last year to work with mental illnesses cases, but mostly, it is used for people who are already under care, and younger people on drugs. It is just getting started and I'm not sure it's operational yet. I doubt that Mr. Singleton would qualify." She paused, softening her tone. "It's hard for me to switch sides, but I do intend to stand up for him as best as I can. Thank you for telling me about your program." Mr. Ramsey changed the subject slightly, "Can he afford an attorney, or will he need someone to be court-appointed?" "I don't know his financial circumstances. I think he has money, but I don't know if he will understand that he needs to hire someone. Can you recommend any local criminal defense attorneys?" He looked through some business cards in his desk, and handed three of them to her. "Here are some. These guys are all good to work with, and fair. You may be able to get one of them appointed until you can sort out the finances." Closing his desk drawer, he said, "You do understand that there is a crime ward at the county hospital...we will have to officially detain him and move him to that unit until we can do an arraignment." "Yes, I understand. I would do the same thing." The assistant knocked on the door and said that Mrs. Stewart was on Line One. Mr. Ramsey picked up, "Hello Mrs. Stewart...I'm in a meeting right now, but I wanted to speak to you briefly. Yes we have some news...no, it's good news...We don't have a positive ID yet, but we have reason to believe that Melissa has been found, and she's alive in reasonably good condition. She will be picked up later today and will need to be examined by a doctor, and you will need to come in to make an ID before we can release her." He listened to Mrs. Stewart for a few minutes, "I can't go into the details right now, but I will be in touch early tomorrow." Cradling the phone before he hung it up, he smiled to himself and quietly said to Betty. "I don't get to make that call enough." "I know. This is a tough job." "Don't get me wrong...I understand your frustration. All I can do is do my job. The system isn't set up to help people." Betty turned to the actual process of rescuing Melissa. "Melissa was totally submissive and afraid when I found her, and I've been very gentle with her. It's really important to gain her confidence...I think she will shut down in a minute if she gets scared and thinks something will happen to Larry. Can we get a social worker to come out, and maybe a plainclothes female cop? They should probably bring a tape recorder and get a statement right there." "Good idea." Mr. Ramsey picked up the phone and started keying in a number. "I think we can make that happen. We have officers who have recently had crisis intervention training and I have a contact over at Social Services." Betty gave him the address and arrangements were made for the social worker and female officer to come out later in the afternoon, with an evidence squad scheduled two hours later. Mr. Ramsey ended the meeting cordially as they shook hands at the door, "Ms. Graves, thank you for coming in. We are on opposite sides of this case, but I think we can work together. I'm very pleased that the girl has been found alive, and I believe you've handled her well." After leaving his office, Betty sat in her SUV for a while, with her head resting on the steering wheel, finally acknowledging the tension and drama of the past twenty-four hours, and attempting to let it fade. She thought about her brother's life. She knew that she had also been the victim of parents who were emotionally abusive, and prone to excessive punishment, and she had struggled hard to overcome her past. She had made many mistakes and had been angry with the world, but had managed to turn her anger into a productive life. She felt the pain of those who had not been as fortunate...those children whose inability to cope with abuse had compelled them into bad behavior patterns for which they were again severely punished. Her brother was one of them, and her heart ached. What he had done was wrong, and the damage to Melissa was wrong. There must consequences, but putting him in a jail cell for the rest of his life was not the right thing to do.
Chapter 6. Betty drove back to Larry's house, stopping at a Subway shop to get a couple of sandwiches and some chips, and let herself in. She left the food in the kitchen and immediately went to the basement and found Melissa asleep on her bed with an open book by her side. The noise awoke her. "You came back!" "Yes, I said I would." She sat on the straight back chair and gave Melissa time to wake up. "I talked to the doctor, and I saw Larry in the hospital." "How is he?" "His left arm and left leg are in casts." "Could he come home, and I could take care of him?" "I don't think so. The doctor says he needs to stay in the hospital for a while." She changed the subject, "I brought some food for us. Let's go upstairs and eat." Melissa did not hesitate this time. Betty found a couple of plates and they sat down for a late lunch. "I also found the people who could arrange to get you back to your parents." Betty said nonchalantly. "Maybe I won't need to go." Betty recognized that Melissa still wanted to be Larry's caretaker and had not yet detached emotionally. "It's really best for you to go see your parents. We were able to reach your mother and she is very excited about having you come back for a visit." "My mother wants to see me?" "Yes, she does. She is very excited to know you are coming home." She said kindly. "Besides, I need to go back to Salt Lake this evening, and I don't want to leave you here alone." Pausing, "I arranged for some ladies to come over later this afternoon, probably around four, one is a social worker and the other is a woman police officer." "Why do we need a police officer?" "She's in charge of clearing up your Missing Person's Report. There are some rules we need to follow." She stopped to eat her sandwich and see how Melissa would react. "They would like to ask you a few questions, similar to the questions I asked you last night. It's important for you to give them your best answer, just like you did for me." "Why do they need to know anything? They just need to take me to my parents." "They are concerned about you. Your mother is concerned about you. I am concerned about you. We all need to know that you are in good health, that you have been well taken care of, and that you haven't been harmed." Realizing that she didn't want to continue a conversation where Melissa could end up backing out, she stood up and hurried toward the hall, talking as she went. "Speaking of which, we need to find a Band-aid for your ankle." She disappeared into the bathroom and came back a few minutes later with gauze and several bandages. Kneeling on the floor, she covered the blisters on Melissa's ankles. "Do you want to get cleaned up in any way? Maybe we could find a fresh dress for you to wear?" Melissa took the bait, stood up, and said, "Yes." "Let's go find one for you." Together, they went into the dusty bedroom that had belonged to Betty's mother. The faded rust colored curtains were limp, cutting out the light, but Betty recognized the flowered chenille bedspread on her mother's old bed. She flipped the light switch and saw the dresser and chest of drawers crowded with dusty religious statues, rosaries hanging from the knobs on the dresser, and a discarded wheelchair in the corner. She went to the closet and rummaged through the clothes. "Are these the clothes he gave you to wear?" "Yes." Melissa stood silently, her eyes taking in the room. "Was this his mother's room?" "Yes." "He talks about his mother. He misses her a lot." "She died twenty years ago." "He also missed her when he was a little boy." "He's older than I am. I don't know those stories." She pulled out two hangers, one held a turquoise dress with a full skirt, and the other had a white terrycloth jacket and pants set with a bright pink shell blouse. "Do you like either of these?" Melissa reached in and took a hanger with a sky blue dress. "I like this one." "Great!" Betty said, and inwardly, She is starting to make decisions for herself. Exactly what we need! "Do you want to take a shower? I could get the hall bathroom set up for you." "Can I just wash up? That is what I usually do." "Of course." Betty opened the linen closet and found a clean towel and washcloth, and checked the bathroom for supplies. While waiting, Betty cleaned up in the kitchen. When Melissa emerged, her hair was neatly arranged in a ponytail, her face was rosy from a scrub, and her clothes were clean. "You look terrific!" Betty exclaimed. Within a few minutes, the front doorbell rang, and Betty admitted the social worker, Marty Fields, and the plainclothes officer, Charlene Brown. She directed them to the kitchen table where Melissa was sitting, and introduced them. Melissa's face showed consternation and her eyes betrayed fear. "These are the ladies who will take you to your mother's house after you see a doctor," Betty said, also seating herself. The two women casually chatted with Melissa, trying to ease her fear. A few minutes later, Officer Brown unpacked a small tape recorder. Betty recognized what was about to happen. "Melissa, sometimes there are misunderstandings in these kinds of situations. They need to follow some rules. They need to ask both of us a few simple questions just so there is a record of what is happening. Is that all right with you?" Melissa seemed to trust Betty more than the officer, and nodded a hesitant 'yes.' The officer, sensing Melissa's concern, said, "Thank you for trusting me. She's right, I just need to get some basic facts, and this is easier than writing it down." She continued to set up the recorder while Marty, the social worker, distracted Melissa with compliments. When the recorder was ready, the officer asked if they could start, and asked if Betty would go first. Melissa starred at both of them, watching intently. The officer turned on the machine, placed Betty under oath, and asked detailed questions regarding her knowledge of events. She established: ... Betty's full name, address, phone number, age, her relationship to Larry Singleton, and a brief history;
... That she received a phone call from the Emergency Room at the Davis County Hospital on Thursday morning, the day before, telling her that Larry had been injured in an accident;
... That Dr. Anderson had asked her to search for Larry's medications, and had released Larry's keys to her as his next-of-kin;
... That Betty had gone to the house, searched for the meds, heard a noise in the house, and had found Melissa chained to her bed in the basement bedroom;
... That Melissa had immediately asked for food, and Betty fed her, then released her from the chains;
... That they had talked generally about Melissa's history and circumstances in the evening;
... That Betty had contacted the authorities that morning regarding her discovery. When the officer had completed her questions, she turned off the machine and thanked Betty, turning to Melissa, "That is what it's like. I'm simply recording what has happened." "Will he get in trouble?" "I can't tell you what will happen to Mr. Singleton, that is not for me to decide. It's my job to take care of the people involved, and just gather the facts. Right now, our primary job is to make sure you are OK, identify what happened, and get you connected with your parents." She stopped talking and the room was silent for several minutes. Melissa finally said. "OK, I will talk to you." The officer was low keyed, but gentle as she turned the machine on. "Good, let's start. Would you raise your right hand?" Melissa was placed under oath, and the detailed questions began with gentle prodding from the officer to help her remember. As the questions were asked and answered, Betty took notes on the backside of an advertising flyer. The officer established: ... Melissa's full name, her date of birth, and her parent's address in Ogden. She couldn't quite remember if it was 763 or 765 but it was on 27th Street near Harrison Blvd. She had attended St. Joseph's Elementary School and had been in the eighth grade at St. Joseph's Junior High. She had not attended school since then;
... That she did not believe she was related to Larry Singleton, but she wasn't sure. He kept telling her that she had been his mother and had come back from heaven to take care of him. She believed in heaven and that people could come back, but she didn't feel like his mother. She did not know what to call him, so she never used a name. He called her 'Geraldine' or 'mother';
... That she had met Mr. Singleton at church social events at St. Joseph's Church and had seen him at mass. Her father knew him because they played chess online, and sometimes they played at a church social group, and she would watch them play. She knew that he had gone to a school chess club once to teach the kids how to play but she wasn't in the club;
... That Mr. Singleton has started talking to her when she was in junior high. He saw her playing the piano in the church social hall a few times and told her that he also played the piano. One time, he invited her to go to his house to listen to him play. She thought he was a lonely old man, and she wanted to be his friend, so she decided to go, but didn't tell her parents;
... That Mr. Singleton pick her up near the school on a day when she didn't want to go to her afternoon classes, and she thought she would be home in time so it didn't matter;
... That she listened to Mr. Singleton play for a couple of hours, and then told him that she needed to be taken home. She talked about how he started acting very strange and started telling her not to leave him again. He started to hug her, and then he became very strong and very mean and picked her up and carried her downstairs where he tied her to the bed with a rope. Later, he brought in a chain and put the shackles on her feet;
... That Mr. Singleton fed her twice a day, bringing food downstairs; gave her clean clothes once a week; and unlocked the chain from the bed for her to go into the family room and talk to him, and to use the bathroom;
... That she felt very sorry for him because he was so lonely, and because he missed his mother so much;
... That Mr. Singleton did not have sex with her, and instead, asked her to cuddle with him, and talk to him like she was the mother. She described cuddling in the rocking chair and on the couch. He talked to her about the things that he did, like the gardening. He never took her upstairs to hear him play again, but sometimes she heard the piano. She talked about the one time that he wanted to touch her breasts; ... That Mr. Singleton had not harmed her except for the chains; that she felt sorry for him because he was so lonely and doesn't have a wife or children;
... That in the early years, she had asked many times to be taken home, but never tried to escape because she was always chained in the basement. Mr. Singleton had told her she had to be locked up because she had skipped school when she should not have, and he couldn't trust her. He also said that the telephone was locked up, and that there weren't any neighbors close enough to hear if she screamed. She felt helpless and felt that she needed to cooperate to make him trust her;
... Finally, the officer asked if Betty had promised her anything or talked about what might happen next. She said that Betty had promised that her mother would be happy to see her, and that was all. As the interviews drew to a close after two hours, and the officer thanked Melissa, Betty sighed with relief. The girl has been able to find her voice, to trust herself, and to separate from her experience enough to give a statement to the police. She is still not totally aware of the full reality, but with time, she will recover. The social worker spoke, "Melissa, you did great. I'm very sorry that you had this experience. We need to get a physical exam to make sure you are still healthy. Are you willing to come with us now?" "Yes." "Is there anything that you want to take with you?" Melissa pondered her meager possessions, and shook her head 'no.' "Would you like to say goodbye to Betty for now?" "Will I see her again?" Betty spoke up, "Melissa, I really hope I see you again. You're doing very well now, please keep taking good care of yourself." There is so much more I would like to say, but can't at the moment. "I would like to give you a hug." Melissa reached out her arms and fell into a long warm hug with Betty. Afterwards, Melissa was escorted to the unmarked police car, and they drove away, with Betty standing on the steps waving. The forensic unit had been waiting on the street for the officer to leave. They came in and Betty showed them around. They took a number of pictures, dusted for a few fingerprints, took Larry's computer into evidence, and left. Betty sat at the kitchen table by herself, exhausted and weary. She had to remember to breathe. She needed to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. Finding Melissa was important, the rescue went well, but my family effort is in shambles. What do I do now? After a long moment, she left the house, locking it behind her, and drove forty-five minutes to her apartment in the suburbs of Salt Lake City.
Chapter 7. The next morning, Saturday, Betty awoke to her new reality. She had done the right thing in caring for Melissa and encouraging her to make simple decisions that helped with her rescue. Betty was now confronted with doing the right thing for her brother, in spite of his animosity and history, in spite of the crime that he had committed, and in spite of what appeared to be multiple psychological issues. But, what was the right thing in this complicated web? She had yearned for stillness and peace in her life as she retired, for the time to enjoy doing the things she had always wanted to do, and by doing, she had hoped to come to a deeper peace with her life. Time and time again, she had been confronted with spiraling thoughts and judgments about her family only to brush them off as bad memories that had been overcome. Her desire for a family reconciliation told her that something was still needed to satisfy those memories. Betty started the morning with her usual stretches and deep breathing exercises. Finishing her yoga routine, she paused to offer a silent request of the antique Buddha sitting peacefully in her living room. I ask you, once again, for the strength and wisdom to make the right decisions that will heal the bad energy that I have encountered. As was her morning habit, on her laptop Betty started making a list of information that would be needed and actions to be taken. Larry had committed a serious crime but she felt certain that it was based on a mental health issue and that he was not an unredeemably evil person. He needed psychiatric evaluation and help. He needed a quiet and understanding heart to replace the comfort he had found in Melissa. Most of all, he needed someone who would care about him. In her career, Betty had put people like this in prison without concern. When she was in law school, she became interested in domestic violence issues, only to learn the long history of how the law had ruthlessly protected men from accountability. She had never been concerned about rehabilitation or humane treatment of the perpetrator, and easily supported the idea that the dark dungeons of the judicial system were remnants of medieval mores intended to be punishment, and were never intended to rehabilitate or care for offenders. She had been merciless, and when the #MeToo movement emerged, she was on the forefront of the cause, finally seeing an opportunity for fairness by celebrating the arrests of Jeffrey Epstein and Harvey Weinstein. In the dark days after her divorce from her third husband, Betty had sought counseling for depression. The outcome was far more comprehensive...she plunged the depths of her memories and found painful experiences of emotional and sexual abuse. She recognized that her professional ruthlessness was born from a personal need for revenge against those men who had neglected and abused her. As she sought peace from these experiences, found solace in a personal spiritual and moral code, and developed ways to better assert herself, she lost her tough edge, and realized it was time to leave her job and retire. Over her morning coffee, Betty realized that karma, however, had caught up with her and had given her an opportunity to come to terms with her past in another way. She was connected to the opposite side of a crime, and for the first time, saw the cruelty of unemotional incarceration and was confronted with the need for humanity in addressing a crime. Her brother's fate was in the hands of a conservative judicial system and it scared her. It was bad enough in the jurisdiction where she had practiced law, but an ultra-conservative system would be a nightmare. Without a doubt, they had a kidnapping charge against him, and holding the girl hostage for ten years. Turning to her computer, she researched Utah law and came away frustrated because she confirmed that there was no possibility of Larry getting out on bail. She also looked for information on the mental health diversion program that the prosecutor had mentioned, but found nothing. She needed to research how Utah law would treat his delusion that Melissa was the reincarnation of his mother, and whether autism would be considered a factor in determining his mental capacity. He needed a good defense attorney who could get a court-ordered psychiatric evaluation, but she would not be able to contact any of the lawyer referrals until Monday. Did Larry have the resources to pay for an attorney, and would he pay for it? What would she do if he refused to pay? As a practical matter, she needed to locate Larry's car, get it to his house, and get a copy of the accident report. She threw on sweats, located an address for St. Rose of Lima Church and a local police station in Layton, grabbed her laptop and Larry's keys, and headed out. Arriving forty-five minutes later, she saw a lone car, an older model grey Ford, in a parking lot near the church and parked her SUV near it. She went to a nearby door at the church to see if she could find an owner, but found the door locked. Taking a chance, she pulled out Larry's keys and tried them. The door unlocked, and the key fit the ignition. Within minutes, she was on her way to Larry's house where she used the remote for the garage door and parked the car inside. Calling an Uber driver, she went back to the church to get her SUV, and drove to the local police station to request a copy of the accident report. She decided to return to Larry's house and spend some time evaluating Larry's options more closely, and stopped by a Starbucks on the way. Parking in the driveway, she walked over to his mailbox, grabbed several days of mail, and let herself in. She knew that she had, once again, become entangled in the drama of this house. She sat quietly at the kitchen table with her coffee and let the memories engulf her. She quietly listened for the echoes of their family's first year living here in 1961 when Betty was sixteen and a junior in high school. With the only light coming from the window, she heard whispers of the past, saw shadows of ghosts, and felt like a visitor to history. She remembered sitting in the same spot and watching her mother work at the kitchen sink on a very difficult day. Tired of almost twenty years of dependency and emotional abuse, her mother, Geraldine, then in her mid-forties, had found a job. With her first paycheck, she found the courage to see a lawyer about a divorce. Privately, she had told her children that they would be moving to their grandmother's house in Denver, but it was still a secret. On that day, there had been a knock on the front door, and Betty's father, Russell, had answered the door. Someone handed him some papers and left. He quickly flipped through the first few pages and walked into the kitchen, anger rising in his voice. "What's this?" Geraldine turned to him and said quietly, but resolutely, "I have filed for divorce. Those are the papers." He bellowed, "You have not been a wife to me since Marie was born, and now you want a divorce? I have always supported you and paid all the bills, no matter how you behaved, no matter how little respect I got from you, and this is what I get?" He continued flipping through the papers, and responded sarcastically. "You forgot, you're damn religion doesn't allow divorce. And, you want alimony and child support? You won't get one red dime from me." He stormed out of the kitchen, and slammed the door to the bedroom behind him. Later that afternoon, when he was out of the house, Betty helped her mother move her clothes and personal belongings into the small bedroom. In time, the divorce effort was dismissed and they stayed married until his death in 1985, although his anger and humiliation did not subside for many years. Betty had never gotten along with her father. She had been the child who questioned his authority and found her own path. He had retaliated by cutting her off from everything connected to being a family. Betty's thoughts settled on her last day living in this house, a few weeks after she turned seventeen in April the next year. Betty had just graduated from high school with honors, but neither of her parents came to the ceremony. Her father refused to come, and her mother had no way of getting there. The day after her graduation, her father came home with a large suitcase, almost threw it at her, and told her to pack it and get out. He took her to the Greyhound station the next day, bought a one-way ticket to Denver so she could stay with her grandmother, and told her that he never wanted to see her again. It was years before she returned. Spooked by her ghosts, Betty decided to assess the situation with the house. She had the uncomfortable feeling that Larry might never return, and felt the bittersweet irony that she may be the one to eventually clean out the house and sell it. Slowly, while still fighting memories, she started opening kitchen cabinets. She could tell from the fingerprints on the doors that a couple of the cabinets were being used, but from the dust, it appeared that others had not been opened in years. She recognized the old white plastic mixing bowls and found a small oval serving bowl with red stripes around the edge that was the last surviving piece from the 'good dishes.' She found her mother's 1955 edition of the Betty Crocker cookbook and the old Mixmaster that she and Marie had learned to use when their mother was teaching them how to cook. In another cabinet under the counter, she found a large selection of Larry's canning jars. Slowly, she moved to other rooms, opening cabinets and closets to find items that had probably not been used in years. She found her mother's half-used toiletries in the bathroom, and threadbare towels were stacked in the hall closet. In her mother's room, she found a stack of Catholic magazines dating back to the early 60's. Opening the door to the last bedroom in the hall, she found the twin beds that she and Marie had used. The dresser still had Marie's jewelry box from high school, and graduation tassels hung from the closet doorknobs. The beds were now stacked high with bric-a-brac and half-filled boxes. Wandering through the house haunted her, and Betty soon realized that she needed to return to the present and make a plan. She returned to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, wondering what to do with the perishables. She decided to take the milk, eggs, and butter home with her so she put them on the table, along with a couple of the fresh tomatoes. She threw out the leftovers, washed the containers, and took the trash out to the garbage bins in the garage. I will need to find out when the trash must be put on the curb, she thought, looking around at piles of old magazines and newspapers. She decided to check out the garden, and walked across the enclosed back porch to see it. The sizeable back yard was consumed by growing vegetables almost ready to be harvested and heavily burdened fruit trees. As she walked through the rows of lettuce, zucchini, and radishes, and inspected three rows of growing corn, she was impressed, but felt sad at the thought that all of it would now rot on the vine. Could I do anything about this? Returning to the kitchen table, she opened her laptop, and developed notes contemplating Larry's future. He will remain in the jail ward of the hospital while his arm and leg healed, and will then be transferred to the county jail while his case was being processed. Can I get a mental health evaluation before he is taken to the county jail? If he is found competent to stand trial, how much time before his case came up? What will happen if he is found guilty? What is the diversion program? How do I get Larry to pay for an attorney? She also wrote, What are the chances that he will ever return to this house? How do I keep the house up and pay the bills while all this is happening? When do I decide the fate of the house? Someone needed to check into the accident at St. Lima's Church and file a claim, and Can I find a way to give away the vegetables? She would organize the notes and work out answers later. As the practical side of the situation became clear, Betty wondered what Larry's financial situation was, and how she could get him involved in the decision making. She looked through the mail that she had brought in earlier, wondering if any utility bills had come in. There were no utilities, but there was an envelope from a stock brokerage firm. She opened the envelope and read the enclosed statement. To her astonishment, he had a very large sum invested in stocks and bonds. She went back to his bedroom, rummaged through the papers on the table where his computer had been, and looked through a small filing cabinet. She found paperwork for two more bank accounts, both with substantial funds. He could hire an attorney, she thought, but would he? She put the three financial statements in her purse, knowing that his financial position would become an issue. Chapter 8. Early on Monday, Betty called her boss and notified him of the situation, and asked for flexibility with her work schedule. Next, she started calling the defense attorneys that had been recommended by the DA and leaving messages. Her final call was to the St. Rosa of Lima parish office where she reached the senior priest, Father Alphonso. "Father," she said, "My name is Betty Graves and I am the sister of Larry Singleton. I believe he is one of your parishioners." "Yes, I recognize the name. How can I help you?" "First, I want to notify you that my brother was in a car accident a few days ago, and is in the Davis County Hospital with a broken arm and leg. If you do hospital visits, you might want to put him on your list." "Thank you for notifying us. I'm sorry to hear. I hope he will be all right. We will certainly do that." "He will recover, but there is a complication, I would like to talk to you in person rather than discuss it on the phone. Would you be able to meet with me this afternoon?" "Certainly. I could see you around four o'clock, if that works." "Yes, I could be there. There is something else. He will be away from home for quite a while, and he has a large garden full of vegetables and fruit trees that will rot if not picked and used. Is there any chance that your parish has families that could use this produce?" "Larry has been canning food for our poor families for several years. We can certainly use anything that is available." "At this point, I need help getting the produce picked from the garden. Would you be able to find people willing to come over, maybe next Saturday? They can have everything they can take with them." "Let me check into that. Can I give you an answer when we meet this afternoon?" "Yes, of course. I would be very pleased to be able to do this. I'm looking forward to talking to you this afternoon." Moments after she hung up from her conversation with the priest, her phone rang and it was one of the attorneys who introduced himself as Charles Cameron. "Mr. Cameron, I am looking for a defense attorney for my brother. I discovered that he kidnapped a young lady and kept her hostage for ten years. Is this a case that you would take?" "Maybe. Has he been arrested yet?" "His name is Larry. He was in a car accident on Thursday, and is in the hospital. I met with the DA's office last Friday morning, and the girl was rescued on Friday afternoon. The DA told me that Larry would be moved to the jail ward at the hospital. I presume that has happened." "Tell me about more about the circumstances." Betty related the details about Larry, Melissa, and how she got involved. "You understand, don't you, that there is very little chance that he would be able to avoid a conviction on these charges." "I understand. He still needs an attorney. Would you be able to meet with me this afternoon?" "Yes." They made arrangements to meet at two o'clock. He gave her the address in Farmington. She dressed professionally in slacks and a blazer, and arrived on time, bringing with her the notes she took when Melissa gave her statement to the police, and Larry's financial records. Mr. Cameron, a tall thin man in shirtsleeves, probably in his thirties, came out from the inner office when he heard the door open. "Sorry, my assistant is out today, are you Ms. Graves?" "Yes. Mr. Cameron?" she observed him to be casual in manner. "Please call me Charles." He directed her to a small conference room, leaving the door open because no one else was around. After they were seated, he said, "Please go over the details that you gave me earlier." "Let start with this...my brother is seventy-seven years old. He has been a loner all his life...never married, no kids. He lives like a hermit. As far as I know, he has never had any legal problems. I suspect that he falls somewhere on the high end of the autism spectrum, but he grew up before they even had that as a diagnosis. I'm not saying that this is the reason he did what he did, I'm just trying to give you some context." "Our mother died about twenty years ago," she continued. "Emotionally, he was always very dependent on her. I'm speculating that he had a very difficult time accepting her death, and this led him to the kidnapping." She pulled out her notes from Melissa's statement. "Melissa was about thirteen when it happened. She was just being a friendly kid to a lonely old man and Larry snapped." She pushed the notes over to the attorney. "If there is any redeeming evidence, it's that there was no sexual assault." Charles looked at the notes. "It's a sympathetic case, but around here, people don't like kidnappings. Were you here when the Elizabeth Smart kidnapping happened, I think it was maybe six to eight years ago? The guy got life in prison." "No, but I heard about it. As I recall, the guy who did it was a nutcase and a rapist. I'm not saying that Larry is not guilty of kidnapping, but he's not a rapist, and he's not a dangerous person. I'm interested in trying to find a solution that doesn't throw him in a jail cell for the rest of his life." "What do you think that is?" "I don't know yet. I just want some compassion for a lonely old man who made a mistake." "Fair enough. Another topic, who's going to pay for his defense?" "That is the next challenge. Larry has plenty of money and can pay for his defense, but I don't know if he will agree to it. He hoards money.
SKELETON SENTENCE When a mature woman moves back to her hometown, she decides to reconcile with her older brother after 16 years. She realizes that he has undiagnosed autism, and that their difficult childhood created complications for both of them. Will she succeed? A call from a hospital brings her face-to-face with her brother's extreme psychological needs and a crime he has committed. She interjects herself into the adversarial judicial system to find a solution and is confronted by a system intent on punishing rather than caring for people with mental health issues. THEMES dysfunctional family with different results. Human condition---forgiveness in face of adversity Inadequate judicial system to meet the basic needs of some defendants. TIMELINE 12/25/1941: Russell and Geraldine meet 04/25/1942: Russell and Geraldine get married, she immediately gets pregnant. 01/25/1943: Larry is born 04/13/1945: Betty is born 07/26/1946: Marie is born 01/15/1985: Russell dies, Larry retires to take care of Geraldine 1997: Melissa is born. 01/15/2000: Geraldine dies, Larry inherits house 2010: Larry kidnaps Melissa 2020: Betty attempts reconciliation, discovers crime
OUTLINE OVERALL PLOT: This is a character-driven crime story primarily involving a sister (Betty) and brother (Larry) who are estranged, both in their 70's. The sister attempts a reconciliation and discovered the brother has committed the crime of kidnapping and holding hostage a young girl (Melissa) for ten years. Larry seems to be a high-functioning autistic person, born long before this diagnosis, who was overly protected by his mother; who never integrated well in society; and who could not get over his mother's death. He believes the girl, Melissa, is the reincarnation of his deceased mother. Although outwardly he seems to dominate, he forms a psychological dependency on Melissa, but does not abuse her physically except to hold her hostage. The sister, Betty, a retired sex crimes prosecutor, helps with Melissa's rescue, but is also driven to help find a humane legal remedy for Larry, a recluse. The plot unfolds because of Betty's persistent action and inner drive. Betty has an internal conflict, which is that she (and her brother) came from a very angry and dysfunctional family and Larry had cut off ties with her 16 years before. She must choose between putting aside her family history and becoming the person she wants to be, or taking the easy way and abandoning him. In the resolution, Betty does not get the peace of mind from a gentle reconciliation that she is seeking, but she becomes the person she wants to be by finding a humanitarian way to address Larry's crime. She addresses more of her issues with the way she was treated both as a teenager and as an adult which allows her to give the love and loyalty to her remaining family member that neither of them received, and acknowledges her brother in a way that he has never before received. CONFLICTS:
Larry is diagnosed with autism (mild atypical, Asbergers) Larry talks about his childhood and school (lonely, frustrating, demeaning) Larry reveals he was molested by a priest when he was an alterboy
Larry is put in the diversion program with counseling and with a court ordered male companion in his home. Larry returns to his home, which has been cleaned up, and his garden. Chapter 1: Betty gets a call from a hospital saying her brother has been in a serious accident. She drops everything and goes to the hospital. On the way, she recalls her recent initial effort, a dinner at Outbacks, to reconcile with him. She has begun to realize that he may be been autistic, and his mannerisms during their dinner suggest as much. She is outgoing, adventuresome, successful, and has come to terms with her past. He is distrustful, hoards money, is religiously zealous, and attempts to be authoritarian. She brings up childhood memories, which he avoids. We learn that she is divorced. He plays a lot of computer chess, and took up the piano several years ago. He brings up Marie, their deceased sister, and it is clear that both parents are deceased. Larry accidentally drops the word "we" which is puzzling since he lives alone [a hint of something he is not saying]. They plan to meet again in ten days. (CONFLICT: Will Betty and Larry be able to overcome the conflict between their values and personalities? What does the "we" mean?) Betty meets with her therapist, Cynthia, and talks about how she believes Larry is autistic. She talks about Larry's obsession with chess and briefly describes him growing up and becoming more like their father. She also talks about their mother's belief that something was wrong with Larry and how she protected him; their authoritarian father who was obsessed with money and who criticized everything [a hint of more to come]. Cynthia is concerned that Betty will not be able to separate her father's and her brother's personality which will impede the planned reconciliation. Betty remembers her first conversation with Cynthia and talks about being unloved as a middle child and a lingering sense of abandonment [a hint]. She gives some family history of an ill-conceived marriage between her parents, who had religious differences and a brief history of her over-protected brother, a sickly younger sister, and her position as the ignored child. She portrays her father as strict and focused on his money. (CONFLICT: With all of these issues, can Betty successfully navigate a reconciliation?) Betty's State of Mind: She has retired and moved to her home state, but has a PT job and is enjoying retirement activities. She has a therapist to continue helping her resolve old conflicts, some from a fairly recent divorce, including plans to reconcile with her brother. Realizing that he may be autistic, she sees him in a different light than when they were growing up in a dysfunctional family. She reveals some aspects of her family history, including her father's strict control issues, and his use of money as a disciplinary tool. She is confident that she can pull this off as the enlightened and open-minded sister who has come to terms with her past. She is outgoing, professional is style and appearance. Larry's State of Mind: He returned to his home state to take care of his mother, who had Alzheimer's, 35 years ago when his father died. She died 20 years ago. He lives in the home his father built, and spends his time gardening, playing computer chess, and playing his piano. He is socially awkward, has never married, and has few friends, but is strict about his Catholic religion and believes Betty should return to her childhood religion as their mother always hoped. He is also patronizing about women and hoards money, much like their father's behavior. He is known to generally hoard other things. He shows signs of autism: no eye contact, social awkwardness, has a nervous habit of playing with a spoon when he is frustrated. CHAPTER 2: Betty arrives at the hospital, is designated as the next-of-kin, and meets with Dr. Anderson. Larry was in a cross-walk when he was hit, he has serious bone fracture injuries. She can't see him, but Dr. suggests she find out what medications he is taking. He releases Larry's keys to her. She suggests to the Dr that Larry might be autistic. (CONFLICT: How will this impact the reconciliation efforts?) Betty goes to his home. On the way, even though assured by the doctor, she fears that he will die from a car accident, just like their sister, and she will be too late with her reconciliation efforts. She arrives at the home, she is initially flooded with bad memories [a hint of more to come], but comes back to the present. She finds it messy and dusty. She sees that he was in the middle of canning tomatoes. She looks for medications, and finds one very old one prescription. She hears a tapping noise that gets louder and more persistent. (CONFLICT: The house is supposed to be empty. What is the noise?) Betty follows the noise and goes downstairs to the basement. She sees abandoned art work that suggests Larry secretly never gave up his art. The tapping is louder, and she hears a cry similar to a trapped cat. She opens the door to a basement bedroom, and finds a chained young woman. (CONFLICT: What has Larry done? Who is the young girl and what is she doing here?) Betty's State of Mind: Betty visits the hospital, gets some details, and is assured by the kind Doctor that Larry will survive. She feels useful because the Doctor has sent her on an errand to find Larry's meds. However, she becomes morbidly fearful because her sister was killed in an auto accident, causing long-term grief. She is momentarily flooded with bad memories from her teenage years in the house, but comes back to the present as she surveys the house and hunts for the meds. She is puzzled by a tapping sound, but adventurously looks for it in spite of fears. He heart is pounding as she discovers Melissa chained to a bed. Larry's State of Mind: Larry is not in this chapter. Reader is surprised by the revelation that he committed a kidnapping and can speculate as to his real persona. CHAPTER 3. Betty rushes to Melissa whose first words are that she is hungry because Larry didn't feed her the day before. Betty realizes that she is in a conflict situation, i.e, her first concern is the victim; her brother is the perpetrator; she is a former sex crimes prosecutor who understands the potential for the Stockholm syndrome, and she must respond to the crime. Betty, still in shock, goes upstairs and fixes a peanut butter sandwich and milk while absorbing the crime Larry has committed, and how it conflicts with his religious code [hint]. She brings the food downstairs. While Melissa is eating, Betty uses Larry's key to unlock the chains. Betty asks the girl for her name, and learns that she has been chained up for ten years, and that she is 23 years old. Melissa models the dress that she has grown into, and Betty learns that Larry is dressing her in their mother's old clothes, (saved from disposal after the mother's funeral-see Chapter 1). She also learns that Larry calls her "mother" and has given her the name 'Geraldine,' the mother's name. Betty is overwhelmed, goes upstairs to call the doctor about the medications and to process her thoughts both of Larry and Melissa. (CONFLICT: Larry has committed the crime of kidnapping and holding the girl hostage, which is a blow to Betty's perception of Larry. Betty must manage several personal conflicts. How will she do this? What has happened to this girl? Betty learns that Larry has created a psychological fantasy. What happens to Betty's desire for a reconciliation?) Returning to the basement with two blankets and a fruit bowl, Betty invites Melissa to talk on the couch. Melissa recounts how she had met Larry at church, he had invited her over to listen to him play the piano, and then forced her to stay, and that Larry believes her to be his mother who has returned from the dead to take care of him. Betty asks the critical question about rape and remembers her own brutal rape 50 years ago [hint]. She learns more about Larry's obsessions and senses that Melissa is psychologically programmed into her role and speaks in present tense, as if she is still living it. Larry wants her to hold him, rock him, sing to him, and tell him that everything is OK. He had not had sex with her, but has talked about looking at pictures of naked children. He 'confesses' to Melissa and she gives him penitence like a priest would. Betty starts to fall asleep on the couch, and Melissa helps her to the recliner, covers her with a blanket, and goes to her own room. (CONFLICT: How does Melissa's story reflect Larry's mental imbalance?) Betty's State of Mind: Betty is shocked and horrified to learn that Larry has kidnapped and held a young girl for ten years and wonders if he was influenced by church sex scandals. She realizes that she has multiple conflicts and doesn't know where to land on any of them but must do what is right. She feels motherly toward the girl, releases her from the chains, feeds her, and spends time talking to her in a very relaxed manner while trying to find out critical facts. Questioning Melissa, she is reminded of her own brutal rape 50 years ago. She is stunned by Melissa's description of Larry's behavior.
Larry's State of Mind: Larry is not in this chapter. Reader continues to be surprised by the revelation that he committed a kidnapping and can speculate as to his real persona. CHAPTER FOUR: Betty awakes and invites Melissa to have breakfast upstairs. Melissa says she is not allowed, but after about 30 minutes, she comes upstairs. Betty, privately knowing that she must contact the police, suggests that they make plans. She tells Melissa that Larry will be in the hospital for a while, and suggests that she go stay with her parents. Although Melissa believes that her parents don't want her, Betty convinces her to go. Melissa worries about Larry needing care and learns that Larry will be cared for in the hospital. With Melissa almost agreeing, Betty moves on to the logistics of removing the Missing Person's Report and convinces Melissa that following procedures will be important. Betty assures Melissa that she will kept in touch with her regarding Larry's condition. CONFLICT: Will Melissa continue to be willing to go to her parent's house, and will she cooperate with the authorities? Betty arranges to meet the doctor again, and also makes an appointment at the District Attorney's office. She meets with the doctor for an update, and tells him about finding a kidnap victim, Melissa. The doctor is shocked, but it also explains why Larry is upset about being in the hospital. The doctor tells her that she is doing the right thing to go to the police. Betty asks to see Larry and after his lunch is delivered, greets him warmly in spite of his sarcasm. Because of his broken arm, she offers to help with small tasks but he is determined to do it himself. She finally tells him that she knows about the girl, and he becomes angry and belligerent. She backs out of his room and calls the doctor, who immediately gives Larry a sedative. CONFLICT: Is there any hope for a reconciliation? Will Larry understand the legal trouble he is in?
Larry's State of Mind: CHAPTER FIVE: Betty goes to the DA's office and meets with Ted Ramsey, who was in charge of sex crimes. She informs him that she has info regarding a kidnapping, and provides the into. The case is looked up, and Betty confirms that it looks like the same person. Ramsey orders that the parents be notified. Betty willingly tells him about her involvement, and her concerns over a possible Stockholm syndrome situation. He initially accuses her of tampering with a witness. Betty gives a complete statement, including her assessment of Larry's autism, and possible mental illness. The DA is not sympathetic, and talked about the strictness of Utah law. Betty asks if bail is possible, or a mental health exam. He is discouraging on both. She asks for referrals to defense attorneys, and he gives her three business cards. They work out detailed plans for a social worker to come over with a female cop to pick up Melissa.
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