“I can assure you I don’t know that either. We have many doctors here; none of whom are assigned to any specific resident.”
She stood on trembling legs, yanked up her shirt, and pulled down the waistline of the corduroy trousers. “I don’t have any scars.”
“Please cover yourself, Miss Winters.”
“Just look,” she cried. “You know what a scar looks like, don’t you?”
His face flushed with anger. “If you wish to continue this discussion, you need to cover yourself and sit down.”
She lowered her shirt and sat. “If Eddie didn’t explain how he knows the difference between me and my sister, then what did he tell you? Anything?”
“He said he was with you in the tunnels, and he took us to the spot where you claim to have seen a body.”
“He saw her body too. I heard him tell you that, before Wayne and Marla dragged me back inside House Six.”
Dr. Baldwin glared at her for a tense moment, as if trying to decide how much to say. “If Eddie was actually trying to help you escape, why would I believe anything he says? Either way, the fact remains that there was no body.”
She shook her head again. “You’re lying,” she said. “You’re lying because you don’t want anyone to find out Rosemary was murdered and you never reported her missing.” Then she had another thought and her blood ran cold. Why hadn’t she thought of it before? “Or maybe you killed her!”
“Now you’re being completely irrational, Miss Winters. And this conversation has told me two things. We have more work to do. And you can no longer be trusted.” Venom edged his voice, making his meaning clear—he’d send her back to the pit if she didn’t calm down.
She dropped her flooding eyes to the floor. There had to be something she could do or say, something that would make him listen. Then she looked up at him again. “I know how the news crew got inside House Six.”
“Of course you do,” he said.
“It’s true, I swear. Eddie told me the night before it happened.”
He looked doubtful. “There’s no way Eddie could have known anything about that.”
“You’re wrong. He overheard some of the doctors talking about it. That’s how we knew when the news crew was coming and that we’d be able to get into the tunnels without anyone noticing.”
His chin lifted slightly, acting unfazed, but she could see the surprise in his eyes. “What did Eddie overhear?”
“I’ll tell you, but only after you do something for me.”
“What’s that?”
“Call my stepfather.”
“I called your stepfather when you first came back to let him know you’d been found. If I feel the need to call him again, I will.”
“But calling him would prove I’m telling the truth. It’s just one simple thing and you won’t do it. When you called him, did you ask him if Rosemary had a twin?”
He shook his head. “It didn’t come up. When I told him you’d been found safe and sound, he was relieved. That was it.”
“He didn’t say his other stepdaughter had run away?”
“No.”
“So call him again. Right now, while I’m sitting here. Ask him if Rosemary had a twin.”
“I’m afraid that would do more harm than good, Miss Winters. I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”
“I think you’re afraid of what he’ll say.”
“I can assure you I am not.”
“Then call him. But only if you want to know how the reporters got in.”
He clenched his jaw, his nostrils flaring. After a long moment, he pushed the button on the intercom again. When his secretary answered, he said, “Get Alan Tern on the line for me, will you, Evie?
“Yes, Doctor,” Evie said.
“Call me back when you have him.” After releasing the intercom, he folded his hands on the desk. “There. I’ve done what you asked. Now tell me, how did the news crew get in?”
“Not until you talk to him,” she said.
“That wasn’t the deal. Evie is going to get him on the line, so I’m holding up my end of the bargain. And unless you share what you know before she reaches him, I’ll have her tell him she called him by mistake.”
She chewed her lip. If Eddie’s uncle got fired, he and Eddie would never be able to help her. Then again, she only had to tell Dr. Baldwin part of what she knew, not everything.
“But before you answer,” Dr. Baldwin said, “do you remember where I sent you when you assaulted that attendant a few years ago?”
“No,” she said. “Because that wasn’t me. It was my sister.”
He scowled, losing patience again. “I sent you to our state security hospital, where you remained for a year. Clearly it didn’t teach you anything, but if you lie about how the reporters got in, I’ll have them send someone to pick you up in the morning.”
She swallowed. If the state security hospital was considered punishment, how much worse must it be than Willowbrook? “It was Dr. Wilkins,” she said. “He’s friends with that reporter. They met at a diner and Dr. Wilkins gave him a key to House Six.”
Dr. Baldwin pressed his lips into a hard, thin line. Before he could respond, the phone on the desk rang, making Sage jump. Dr. Baldwin stared at it, fuming, then picked up the receiver.
“Yes?” He listened for a moment, then frowned. “I see,” he said. “Yes, all right. We can try again later. Thank you, Evie.” He hung up and looked at Sage. “Your stepfather isn’t answering.”
“Maybe he’s still at work.”
“On a Saturday evening?”
Heat crawled up her cheeks. She had no idea what time of day it was, let alone what day of the week. She was about to tell him Alan was probably at a bar when someone knocked on the office door.
“Yes?” Dr. Baldwin said.
The door opened and Evie rushed in, her lime-colored dress and platinum hair glowing in the drab office. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but you need to see this,” she said. She hurried over to the television and turned it on.
“What is it?” Dr. Baldwin said.
Evie shushed him, turned up the volume, and backed away from the television so he could see.
“Is that goddamn reporter coming on?” Dr. Baldwin said. “The one who took the news crew into House Six?”
Evie nodded, chewing her manicured thumbnail and staring at the screen.
Dr. Baldwin’s face went pale, like a man about to lose his last dollar in a bet. He got up, went around the desk, and stood beside Evie, who put a hand on his back, concern lining her brow. Standing next to each other, they looked more like a couple than a secretary and her boss.
On the television screen, a reporter behind a desk said, “And now we have a special report from Eyewitness News correspondent Geraldo Rivera.”
Then Willowbrook’s six-story headquarters appeared on the screen behind the headline: WILLOWBROOK: THE LAST GREAT DISGRACE, the ominous-looking building growing larger and larger as the camera got closer. A second later, a reporter with dark hair and a mustache came on and said into the microphone in his hand: “It’s been more than six years since Robert Kennedy walked out of one of the wards here at Willowbrook and told newsmen of the horror he’d seen inside. He pleaded then for an overhaul of the system that allowed retarded children to live in a ‘snake pit.’ But that was way back in 1965 and somehow we’d all forgotten. I first heard of this big place with the pretty-sounding name because of a call I received from a member of the Willowbrook staff. The doctor told me he’d just been fired because he had been urging parents with children in one of the buildings to organize so they could more effectively demand improved conditions for their children. He invited me to see the conditions he was talking about, so, unannounced and unexpected by the school administration, we toured building number six.”