Free Blind Spot by Nancy Bush

the compulsive tearing at her own skin. He’d been worried. They agreed to meet at the house as soon as Lang was off, about three hours later. Melody had long ago moved out and been on her own. She’d been a bright star once, someone who seemed to know what she wanted. Someone in control of her own life. But things had deteriorated and Lang had tried to get her to come home to no avail. He knew about Heyward Marsdon, knew of his family and a little of his problems. Initially, he’d foolishly been relieved and happy when his drifting sister had connected with someone from a solid family. He’d felt hopeful, like she might actually pull it back together. Have a normal life. A good life. Naivete at its worst. He knew better. He’d seen enough through his years on the force to know better, but when it came to Melody he just wanted to believe in good things so badly.
    She never made it to his house. He tried calling the cell phone number he had for her, but it was not hers any longer. He went to an old apartment address, but it was empty and the neighbor lady said she thought the woman who’d lived there had been evicted for nonpayment.
    Kicking himself for not just leaving work with her when she stopped by, Lang tried getting in touch with the Marsdons and was coolly ignored. No, they didn’t know where Heyward was. No, they had no phone number for him. No, they had no idea who his friends were. And they would appreciate not being bothered again.
    And then…merely an hour later…the emergency call from Halo Valley Security Hospital was logged into 911. He’d heard the tapes enough times. A guard, Wade De-Bussy, was holding down Heyward Marsdon, and one Dr. Claire Norris was saying that a woman named Melody Stone was dead.
    Paranoid schizophrenia, they told Lang. Hallucinations and delusions. Unpredictable behavior. But no one, no one, believed Heyward Marsdon would kill anyone. Certainly not Heyward Senior or Junior, who were chock full of disbelief. Why, Heyward III had just been at the governor’s ball with his loving family. Yes, he’d had bouts of depression in the past, but this was entirely unprecedented. Unbelievable. There were undoubtedly mitigating factors to explain the psychological break. Drugs, maybe? He was never that sick.
    Well, at least that was the beginning spate of excuses until Heyward Senior, who was the old man pulling the strings, saw that he’d better go for the insanity plea or his grandson would be heading straight for serious prison time. Lang suspected Heyward Marsdon Sr. was practically choking on the diagnosis for his only grandson. Heyward III’s father was like a pale shadow following the old man around and didn’t seem to have any say, one way or the other. A disappointment to his old man? Maybe the reason Heyward Senior was pinning his hopes on his schizophrenic grandson, no matter the evidence to the Third’s sickness?
    It didn’t matter. None of it.
    The upshot was that Lang hadn’t been there for Melody. A couple of hours on the job when he should have been with his sister. A couple of hours…that’s all.
    So he quit. Just up and quit. Couldn’t do it anymore. Couldn’t go to his old desk and remember how he’d turned Melody away when she’d needed him. Since then he’d had six months of idle time and one job offer from the Tillamook County Sheriff’s Department, the law enforcement agency that held Halo Valley Security Hospital within its jurisdiction. Strange how the world worked. Ironic. He’d met with Tillamook County’s sheriff and had hit it off sometime the spring before, and the job offer came in just about the time he quit the Portland P.D. He’d turned them down, but like Drano, the job had yet to be filled. At this point he didn’t even know if he wanted to go back to law enforcement anywhere. Yet here he was, stepping forward through the rain to the Winslow County Sheriff’s Department, working a case he had no business being involved with.
    Now,