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The question’s a stretch. Jerricka Solis is a classic ice queen and she’ll never volunteer that kind of information without a court order—something we can’t get. I wonder how her clients are comfortable enough to talk to her.
Shetsks. “You know I can’t tell you that. Even in death, her patient records are confidential. JodiAnne Donnelly was a classic schizophrenic and suffered with bipolar disorder. When Quiet Meadows closed, it disrupted the treatment programs of over a hundred patients. I’m sure you can understand that recovery requires consistent, quality therapy. I spoke with Paula Donnelly at length about the kind of care she should provideher daughter.” Dr. Solis spreads her fingers. “Hiring a caregiver couldn’t possibly begin to match the therapy JodiAnne was receiving in a top-notch facility, but I understand the Donnelly’s predicament. Nothing was available in the city that offered the kind of treatment her daughter needed—the waitlists were miles long and still are. I helped them search, tried to pull whatever strings I could, to no avail.”
That doesn’t endear her to me, and I ask, “Did you go to her home for therapy sessions or did she come to your office?”
“Both, though she did better, responded better, when she came here. I believe the professional atmosphere soothed her.”
“We spoke to Dr. Krout, the medical examiner at the hospital, and he said her cardiac arrest was induced by the amount of medication she took over the years. How do you decide which drug cocktails to prescribe your patients, and for how long?”
She barely smiles at me. “Medicine is continually evolving. Changing. We find new facts about the human body every single day. Some of these findings can turn what we previously thought on its head. You can imagine how a discovery like that can impact us. It’s devastating and rocks the entire psychiatric community. Years of treatment we thought were helpful might have been harmful or even detrimental. We can only do as well as we are able using the information we have at the time. JodiAnne’s doctors at Quiet Meadows were treating her in the best way they knew how, and for the past year, I did the same. I won’t apologize for that.”
“Then you have nothing to say in regard to JodiAnne’s suspicions that someone was trying to kill her.”
“No, I don’t. She was delusional and had hallucinations. She belonged in a care facility. Living at home without consistent therapy did not do her treatment any favors. If that’s all,gentlemen, I need to see to my patients. Mylivingpatients, whom I can still be of some comfort and assistance.”
“Just one other question,” Pop says, standing and holding the empty coffee mug loosely in his hand.
“Yes?” Any warmth Dr. Solis might have had for us is gone.
“Do you keep up to date with the latest studies? Do you collaborate or consult with colleagues about your patients?”
“I wouldn’t be a very good doctor not to open myself to new ideas, therapies, or medication. I frequently read and publish in psychological and psychiatric journals, and I consult with Dr. Martin Pederson quite regularly. He was the lead psychiatrist at Quiet Meadows before the fiasco involving Zarah Maddox closed the entire facility.”
I frown. I don’t like Dr. Solis blaming the woman I’m in love with for the demise of a care facility that could have been mistreating their patients.
“I don’t think Zarah Maddox is to blame,” I say coldly. “We’re well aware Ashton Black deserves the credit for that.”
“The Maddoxes took a personal feud against the Blacks public. They ruined the lives of hundreds of patients who were displaced when the FBI closed Quiet Meadows. If anyone is to blame for JodiAnne’s death, look at Zane Maddox.”
I open my mouth to tell her off, but Pop sets his empty mug on her desk and grabs my arm. “Not now.” He turns to Dr. Solis. “Thank you for your time, Doctor. Enjoy the holidays.”
Narrowing her eyes, she meets mine. Goddamn it, she knows me from somewhere. “You as well.”
Pop drags me out of Dr. Solis’ office, and he only lets me go in the elevator, the doors sliding closed. I’m trembling with rage. “What did you do that for? We didn’t even mention Marci Grayson.”
“She wasn’t going to give us anything,” Pop says, rolling his shoulders as the lift carries us down to the lobby. “All she caredabout was Quiet Meadows closing and sticking someone with the blame. She didn’t have anything to give us, anyway. Medicine is a crapshoot, she admitted it. JodiAnne was a casualty, and it’s not like there aren’t thousands of those every year. We’ll write up the report, send it to the Donnellys, and wash our hands of it. That woman gave me the creeps.”
“What made you change your mind? You wanted this case.”
Pop’s mouth quirks. “Yeah, I did. It sounded like a good, 0ld-fashioned murder, but talking to Dr. Krout turned me off. You can’t argue with an autopsy report. She had a weak heart because of years of prescription drug use. Can’t get any more cut and dried than that.”
“I don’t like Solis consulting with a doctor who used to treat patients at Quiet Meadows.”
“Like you said, all the doctors except for the one Black was bribing were cleared. It’s been over a year. There’s talk that a private physicians group purchased the facility and is going to reopen it.”
I don’t like the sound of that much, but there wasn’t anything going on at Quiet Meadows outside of Ashton Black drugging Zarah to keep her under his thumb. There’s no reason why it shouldn’t reopen.
I run my hands over my hair, and we trudge through the gleaming lobby. “I guess that’s it, then.”
“Seems like it. Ross gave us a couple of good leads the other day. Let’s see if we can get a head start on another one before the world shuts down for Christmas.”
We head out to the parking ramp where I had to park my truck.“She was a piece of work,” I grumble.
Pop scoffs. “Rich people can be an incestuous bunch. All the Quiet Meadows patients still in the city probably see her or one of her partners. She’s got a lock on the one percent, that’s for sure. She doesn’t accept medical assistance.”
Pop sounds a little bitter, but self-employed, we’re on a state insurance plan. Paying the premiums on a high-deductible policy sucks, and we only have the coverage we do in case we get hurt on the job.
“Ever look up her rates?” I ask, using my fob to unlock my truck.