Somebody Told Me
Summary: A prodigal art student, only recently released from a secure psychiatric unit, disappears and Sam believes the young girl has committed suicide. The rest of the team try hard to disprove her but as time slips away, are Sam's instincts right?
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FIVE HOURS MISSING
Agent Samantha Spade stirred the coffee, momentarily losing herself in the rhythmic motion, her mind only half concentrating on Jack's voice in the background, quizzing Richard and Anne Phillips about their niece, who according them, hadn't been heard from for five hours. Normally, with it being such a short amount of time, the police department would have told Mr and Mrs Phillips, in the most sympathetic voice, that they'd have to wait a whole day, maybe suggesting to telephone her friends. But this case was different, these concerned relatives were different. Not only was Anne Phillips a close personal friend of the D.A, but her niece, Erin, was apparently disturbed. It sounded like Jack was trying to garner from Erin's aunt and uncle what exactly that term meant.
"Erin was eighteen when she left school," Richard answered Jack's question, "She'd been branching out with her photography since she was sixteen. She'd had her work in a few shows in Los Angeles but she'd always wanted to complete high school."
"And she now attends what college?"
"New York Fine Arts," Anne supplied, taking the handed mug from Samantha's hand and laying it precisely on the mat on the table, "She's studying Art History. Professor Greene will be able to tell you more about her progress there, whether she was keeping up."
Jack nodded, noting down the name as Sam retook her seat, "You mentioned to one of the other agents that Erin had spent time in a psychiatric unit? Can you tell me about that?" Richard and Anne exchanged a look between them, something in Sam's eyes that looked to be of trepidation, almost fear. "Mrs Phillips..."Jack settled his eyes on the woman, "This is very important information that could help find your niece."
Anne took a last look at her husband, who subtly nodded, and she coughed slightly, her hands wrapping round the hot mug of coffee, "We've been trying to put it behind us, Erin's been doing so well recently."
"She's been out for eight months, since her nineteenth birthday." Richard added, finally meeting Jack's eyes, "She's been doing so well."
"How long was she sectioned for?"
"A year," Anne answered quietly, almost whispering, "She was in the psychatric hospital for a year. We visited her every week together, making sure she was making progress."
"She made progress pretty slowly," Sam half muttered to herself, then realising what she'd said as she looked up to the other three people around the table, "All I mean is that a year is a rather long time to be in a psychiatric unit, especially someone of Erin's age."
"Well my niece has some issues that aren't typical within her age group." Richard answered, slightly tersely.
"Is that why you put her into a secure unit rather than a non-secure one?" Jack questioned, "Because that type of ward is a very difficult place for a teenager."
"Have you ever spent more than five minutes in a psychiatric ward?" Anne looked up, "A week? A month? Think about spending a whole year there. St Augustine's Unit was the only one in the vicinity with an adolescent ward. We felt it was the best place for her."
Jack nodded sympathetically; he could see the emotion rising in Mrs Phillips. She didn't need any more stress with the situation she was dealing with at that moment with her missing niece, "I understand," He said quietly, and those few words seemed to simmer Anne as Richard's hand moved over hers, soothing her without words, "Can you give us a slight background on why she was in the unit?"
"Erin had been suffering from severe depression and suicidal thoughts," Richard answered after a pause, seeing that his wife was unable to answer as tears welled in her eyes, "It had come to a point where we believed that she would seriously harm herself."
"Can I ask if this is related to why Erin is living with you rather than her parents?" Sam questioned, feeling the glare of Jack on her as though it shouldn't be raised but she could feel something lurking, something instinctual told her there was a reason for Erin's behaviour. A trigger.
Anne looked down at the table, and Richard began stroking her hand in a comforting manner. "My sister in law, Erin's mother, had post natal depression after giving birth," She explained quietly, "We all thought she'd recovered from it, but when Erin was five, my brother found Christine in the garage dead," She paused, "Two years after that, when Erin was seven, her father did the same." Anne spoke in measured tones, her voice not drifting from a quiet whisper but as she looked up to the photoframe sitting on the table, both Jack and Sam could see the grief in her eyes. "Since then Erin's lived with us."
"Did she talk about her parents?"
Richard shrugged, "Occasionally. It wasn't until eighteen months ago when her behaviour started to get us concerned that she really mentioned them."
"And she hasn't mentioned them since she's been out?"
"Do you mean "has she started to think about suicide again?"...Well, the answer is no. Erin adores her art course, and she seems to be finding her way. She and our daughter Matilda spend all their time together, and she's started calling us her parents." Richard paused, "We thought everything had got back to normal."
"How old is your daughter Matilda?" Sam asked after a paused, not wanting to intrude on Mr Phillips' thoughts.
"She's eight." Anne answered, "She and Erin are very close."
"Would we be able to talk to her?"
"I'm not sure how much help she'll be..."
"Sometimes kids pick up on things adults don't. Or maybe Erin let something slip," Jack told the couple, "We would only need to speak to her for a few moments."
Anne nodded, "If it'll help..."
End of Part One