Chapter 5

Upon reaching Healthy Way Institute, Rossi was surprised to see the white building had a warm and welcoming atmosphere inside. Even from the front lobby he could see the rooms of several patients; all of them had little personal touches –stuffed animals, pictures, books – nothing like the sterile padded rooms he was used to seeing.

The receptionist was polite even after they flashed their badges and asked to look at some old records. A quick phone call and they were being taken to the storage room by the director of the facility, Thomas Green.

"When the hospital reopened, the staff was replaced but we kept the files of patients who weren't transferred to different facilities just to be on the safe side." Green said as he turned on the lights. "Those cabinets are the ones you'll be interested in." he said, pointing to two large filing cabinets that were gathering dust in the corner.

"If they weren't transferred, where'd they go?" Rossi asked as Morgan opened one of cabinet drawers. The manila folders inside had the patients' names listed in alphabetical order by last name. He started thumbing through, waiting for 'Derns, Pierce' to catch his eye.

"Some parents decided they'd keep their children at home and care for them. After what happened here, a lot of parents didn't trust mental hospitals and I can't blame them."

"What happened?" Rossi asked, looking around the room. It wasn't a small room but it felt small with all the filing cabinets stuffed inside. His nose itched at all the dust in the air. Housekeeping hadn't been in here for some time. One of the lights was emitting a low buzzing noise. It would probably burn out soon. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Green stiffen and rub his arm at the question. 'Well, well, we might get more out of this visit than I though.' He turned his full attention to Green.

"Why did the parents lose trust, Mr. Green?"

Green sucked in a breath before replying. "You have to understand times were a little tense – I'm sure you've heard of Willowbrook State School?"

"Of course. Hard to forget something like that. Closed in '87 when reports about the staff abusing and experimenting on children proved to be true. A reporter snuck in and caught damning evidence of it on tape. They couldn't deny anything after that and it only got worse for them as more evidence was discovered." Rossi said. He remembered watching the news report on Willowbrook . He hoped the children at Children's Mercy hadn't suffered a similar fate.

"Yes. Even though almost 10 years had passed, the abuse that happened at Willowbrook was still fresh in the minds of both parents and mental health professionals. So when similar reports and arrests happened at this facility, well, bribing the press to keep quiet took a lot of money. The only reason the parents stayed silent was because that was part of the settlement deal: they would get monetary compensation but had to agree to a gag order." Green paused, waiting to see if either agent had any questions.

Morgan and Rossi stayed quiet so he continued on.

"Several staff members were arrested for patient abuse. I wasn't here, obviously, so I don't know the details. And asking around will only get you exaggerated rumors. I don't think anyone was sentenced for life but most were doctors, so they lost their licenses and are serving time. I've heard some nurses and therapists were involved as well." Green scowled. "For a mental health professional to abuse their privileges is deplorable in all aspects. Makes me sick."

"So you don't know any of the former staff?"

"I've never met any of them in person. Everybody's heard of each other. This isn't a saturated profession and I doubt it ever will be."

"What were your thoughts on them? Even if you've never met them, surely you've formed some opinions thanks to the grapevine." Rossi asked, trying to get something out of the man. He didn't think Green was hiding anything but any information was welcomed.

"I try not to judge people based on hearsay, Mr. Rossi." Green frowned at him. "That's how misconceptions are born. I would think somebody with a profession like yours would know that."

"Regardless, if you heard anything, remember anything, I'd like to hear it." Rossi replied, staying calm and ignoring Morgan's suppressed laughter that floated over from the filing cabinet. "Even if you think it's insignificant. Every detail means something to us."

Green stayed silent for a moment before sighing.

"I honestly don't know what to tell you. I've never met any of them. Mental illness is something a lot of doctors take a stab at but few stick with. None of them are memorable." Right after he said this, Green sucked in a breath of surprise. "Wait! I know someone who would know about what happened here. Lindsay Parker; she was the director before me. We were in the same graduating class at university."

"I thought you said you didn't know any of the former staff here." Rossi said with an arched brow.

"Ah, well, I thought so too. It's not like we were friends. We had to partner up a few times for class projects. Do you remember all of your acquaintances from over 20 years ago?"

"How would you describe her?" Rossi asked, deciding to ignore the challenge in the other man's voice.

"Lindsay was special. She was a blessing to this field. Young, fairly attractive and dipped in charisma. She did a lot of public speaking and knew how to draw people to her side. She was passionate about mental health and very vocal in her opinions about advocating better funding for psychiatric services for children. Never heard a negative thing about her, even after Children's Mercy closed."

"And where is she now? Do you know?"

"No clue. She might have moved to avoid being associated with Children's Mercy. It might not have gone public but enough people knew about it. I doubt she could have found another job like that in Nevada."

"I see. I imagine, then, that you don't know any of the patients that left." Rossi was trying his best to ignore the headache that this case was causing him. He had hoped Green would know more but he could tell from the man's posture and manners that he was being nothing but truthful.

"No. I worked in Henderson before I was offered this job. As director, I know what type of illness they were diagnosed with and what type of medications they were prescribed; but whatever was confessed to the therapist stayed with the therapist." Green tilted his head. "Besides you flashing your badges and asking to see our old records, I'm not sure what you're looking for. If it's about what happened, I really don't know anything."

"We're currently working on a missing person case. He used to be a patient here." Rossi said and left it at that. Green opened his mouth but another voice spoke.

"Rossi," Morgan called out, holding up a manila envelope. "Found it."

"I don't suppose the name Pierce Derns means anything to you?" Morgan asked as he handed off the file to Rossi. Green shook his head.

"No, I'm sorry. Like I said, I didn't know any of the patients. Please feel free to take the file with you; it's not doing anyone good here."

"Thank you for your cooperation, director." Rossi flipped through the file. It was rather thick as far as medical files went. His eyes caught several photos of Spencer Reid. The kid looked miserable in some; in others he looked like a corpse propped up. Rossi sucked in a breath. Several names also passed by in a quick blur but this wasn't the time or place to study the papers. Tucking the envelope under his arm he began walking towards the door. "Unless you have any other information, I think this is all we need."

"I've told you all I know. Thank you for visiting. I hope I was able to help you. I'll see you out."

As Green walked them to the door, Rossi fervently prayed Children's Mercy hadn't been as big of a shit show as Willowbrook. He hoped that Spencer Reid had been able to heal and relax. That is what Rossi hoped.

Judging by the pictures he had seen, that hadn't been the case.

"Well this isn't good, is it?" Rossi said barely holding back a sigh as Morgan growled in disgust. They had decided to pull into an empty parking lot and look over the files before heading back.

The documents did not paint Children's Mercy staff in a good light. Spencer Reid had several different doctors during his stay and all of them had a different diagnosis for him. If one thought he was bi-polar, then another thought he was schizophrenic, and another one said, no, he clearly had borderline personality disorder. Another doctor couldn't decide and kept switching his diagnosis. It was the pictures, though, that really showed what life was like for a patient at Children's Mercy.

The first photo showed Spencer Reid being restrained as he was being injected with a drug, his head being held down by an orderly. The next showed him looking at a grey pile of mush on a plate, eyes blank and drooping. Another one of the kid, brown hair shave down to a buzz cut, tears in his brown eyes that were looking straight at the camera, pleading for something as muscular arms wrapped around his waist. The last was of him huddled in a corner of a white room, doing his best to disappear.

"I'm gonna call Garcia and see if she can figure just what the hell these people were thinking." Morgan said, hitting the speed button with more force than necessary.

She answered after one ring.

"This is Penelope Garcia, Goddess of the Internet and all things Information. What favors can I grant my favorite mortal today?"

"Hey Garcia, Rossi and I just finished up at Healthy Way. We got Spencer Reid's medical file and I was wondering if you could track down some people for me." Moragn asked.

"Give me the names, baby."

"Ok, Reid had four doctors during his stay: John Riggs, Marvin Dell, Stanley Crumps, and David Fisher. Think you can get any info on them?"

"Their names are a bit ordinary but thankfully their profession is not. Dell passed away last year in a car accident. Crumps move in 93 to Seattle. He works in psych ward at Seattle Children's Hospital. Fisher is . . . oh, that's not good."

"What's not good, Garcia?" Morgan asked, hearing her cheerful tone take a dive. "What'd you find?"

"Hold on. Give me a sec, sugar. I'm checking something." Morgan could barely hear her voice over the loud clicks and tap. Whatever caught her eye had her typing quickly. He waited, putting her on speaker phone, until the tapping died away.

"David Fisher and John Riggs were convicted on patient abuse and medical malpractice in 1996 – the same year Children's Mercy closed. Both were found guilty of sexually abusing multiple minors. They were also found guilty of misusing prescription drugs. Both had their license revoked and were sentenced to 25 years."

"What prison are they at, Garcia?" Rossi asked as he shared a look with Morgan. No doubt these two were involved in the scandal that caused Children's Mercy to close their door. "Does it say anything about their victims?"

"No names due to them being minors but the descriptions of the crimes indicate they were all female." Garcia said. "Both were at Lovelock Correctional Center but you don't need to bother. Riggs died in a prison riot in 1999 and Fisher was found hanging from a sheet 6 months after being sentenced. It was ruled a suicide."

"Ok, can you look up two other people for us, Garcia?" Rossi asked as he flipped though the files again.

"Are they going to be as sick as the guys I just pulled up?"

"Possibly. See if you can find a Carlos Gutierrez and Lindsay Parker." Rossi continued, ignoring her reluctance. "Gutierrez was an orderly assigned to Reid and Parker was the director at Children's Mercy."

"Let's see. Carlos Gutierrez is currently incarcerated at the High Dessert State Prison. He's serving time for a gang related murder and various drug charges. Says he was affiliated with a street gang called the Vegas Sol Kings. If you want, I can call ahead and see if they can set you guys up an interview."

"Please do. The fact that he's alive and was actually with Reid is a miracle at this point." Rossi grumbled.

"Anything on Lindsay Parker, Garcia?" Morgan asked. "The current director said she probably had to leave Nevada after Children's Mercy closed. It's gonna suck if she's on the other side of the country."

"Oh, you don't need to worry about that, Sugar Man." Garcia's tone had turned strange. It sounded like she was trying to stay cheerful but the tension and anger could still be heard. "Gosh, her mugshot is pretty. She looks like a beauty queen. I wonder how she managed that?"

"Mugshot?" Both men asked after sharing a look of surprise.

"Yep, yep. Your girl is serving a life sentence at Florence McClure Women's Correctional Facility. For the misuse and abuse of prescription drugs and several accounts of patient abuse including neglect, sexual assault and rape – all of which the victims were minors. She was also charged with producing and distributing child porn. There're also charges in here for fraud and theft." Garcia whistled. "Lindsay Parker might look like a model but she's got more charges in here than your gang member. You want me to set up an interview with her?"

"Set it up for tomorrow, Garcia." Morgan said, starting the vehicle. "I want to study the file a little more before talking with her. Send everything you find on her back to conference room. Everything – even if it seems small and insignificant, I want to know about it."

"You got. I'll notify High Dessert you're heading their way. Garcia out!" She said before the line went dead.

"Is it just me or does it seem like every person of interest in this case is dead or in prison?" Rossi asked as they merged onto the highway."

"Hey, up 'til today, everyone we wanted to talk to was dead or missing. Consider this a step up." Morgan grinned as he hit the gas.

"Man, it's been awhile since I've been in one of these rooms. Should I be scared? I ain't done nothing that the cops don't know about." Carlos asked.

"We're just here to ask you a few questions, Mr. Gutierrez." Rossi said, taking a seat across from the man. Morgan remained standing with his arms crossed. Carlos scowled.

"Is this about that bullshit lie that I raped one of Los Loco's girls? It ain't true, man. I swear! I've never even seen one of their girls and even if I had, I ain't ever touched a woman against her will. You don't commit a sin like that without rubbin' shoulders with the devil. Ain't no honor in it."

"You and several of your guys are in here for murder." Morgan pointed out. "There's no honor in that either."

"My gun went off on accident! I wasn't trying to kill anyone. Lil' Manny thought he could swindle us and we wanted to show him we weren't playin' around. I swear on Mother Mary that we weren't trying to kill him. Just wanted to rough him up and scare him." Carlos ran his hands over his bent head, showing off the tattoo that covered his forearm. It was Mary wearing a somber expression, hands clasped in prayer. The words Sol Kings were inked on his knuckles. "Why you bringing this up anyway? I've been sentenced for that. Between that and the drug charges I'm in here 'til I'm an old man. I can't give you any names. I'm no saint but I ain't no rat either."

"We're not here about the murder of Emmanuel Martinez. Nothing you tell us today will increase the sentence you're serving and it has nothing to do with your affiliation with the Vegas Sol Kings."

Carlos Gutierrez studied them. They could see confusion and hesitation flash in his eyes before he heaved a big sigh and shrugged. "Ok. I don't trust cops but I don't have much of a choice here. Sides, I'm curious. Don't know what you want with me if it ain't about the gang or the murder."

"Several years ago you were employed at Children's Mercy Hospital. Is this true?"

"Children's Mercy?" Carlso scratched his head before laughing. "Oh! You mean the crazy house for all the messed up kiddies. Yeah. I worked there for a little bit. Started in '89 and was fired in '94, I think. Kinda surprised I lasted as long as I did; wasn't worth the pay and I always felt creeped out. I feel safer on the streets than I did in there. Hell, I feel safer in here. Couldn't tell who was crazier- the kids or the staff."

"Can you tell us anything you remember about working there?" Morgan asked.

"I can tell you loads of stuff about that place. I'm a religious man but I was on the fence about possessions. After working there, man, I can tell you they exist and those demons are strong. There was this one girl, she had to have been around 8, who I thought was going to go full Exorcist on my ass. I wouldn't have been surprised to see her crawling up the walls with her head twisted all the way 'round." Carlos shuddered and made the sign of the cross. "Why you want to know anyway? That place shut down not long after I was arrested – I saw it in the news. Can't remember why. None of the kids escaped and went on a murder spree did they? I feel like I'd remember that. Wait," Carlos sat up a little straighter; eyes bright with interest and mouth stretched in a grin – showing of a gold tooth. "Is this about Lindsay Parker? That bitch finally get what was comin' to her? Homies, I know I said I wasn't a rat but that lady needs to go to the slammer."

"You remember Lindsay Parker?" Morgan asked and Carlos laughed.

"Remember? She was my boss! I got all my assignments from her. Total slave-driver. That and she was always cutting corners and cheating us. You know how many times I worked overtime and was denied rightful pay?"

"How many times?" Morgan asked. The more Carlos talked, the better chance they had at finding Spencer Reid.

"Too many to count! Course I didn't know that at the time. I mean, I knew I was being cheated but I didn't know how much she was skimming off of us workers. I was just a dumb kid who needed a job so I didn't complain."

"You'll be happy to know Lindsay Parker is currently serving a life sentence." Rossi said and Carlos' eyebrows rose in surprise.

"What? That's a harsh sentence for fraud."

"She's not serving time for fraud, Mr. Gutierrez."

"If she ain't in for being a cheat then I don't know-" Carlos cut himself off and his eyes went wide with shock as he looked at the investigators. He slapped his hands on the table a few times. "Oh, shit. Oh, shit! It was true?! I know she had several people in her pocket but was she. . ." Carlos' voice became quieter; as if he was afraid to finish his sentence. "Was she really sellin' the kids to some of the doctors?"

"Mr. Gutierrez, Lindsay Parker is currently serving a life sentence for several crimes. For the misuse and abuse of prescription drugs; several counts of patient abuse and neglect along with a slew of sexual assault charges as well as fraud. Oh, and three very steep fines handed down to her by the health inspectors. Several doctors and nurses are also serving time and have had their licenses revoked for malpractice."

"Good. They deserve it. Sick fucks." Carlos made a move as if to spit on the floor but thought better of it.

"If you knew, why didn't you report it?" Morgan asked.

"It was just a rumor floatin' around when I started there. It died within my first month. Now that I think about it, though, the people that told me had been let go. But even if I did have proof who do you think the cops are going to believe? One Mexican dropout or a bunch of white people with medical degrees? 'Sides, I couldn't afford to call the cops; I was initiated into the Sol Kings. Anyway, those people were snakes. I saw the doctors and nurses scream and hit the kids and force feed 'em a few times but the other stuff? Never saw any of that." Carlos frowned.

"Did any of the children say anything to you about it?"

"No, which is why I thought it was all smoke and mirrors. Those kids were batshit insane but they weren't stupid – not by a long shot. I had one who was paranoid their food was poisoned and they let everyone know the cooks were trying to kill them every day like clockwork. But I dunno, maybe the crazy in them warped it all up into a spitball and they just spat it out and forgot. That or Lindsay said somethin' to 'em to keep 'em quiet. Whatever it was, they weren't talkin'. Closest evidence that something shady was going on was some bloodstained sheets and in a place like that, that doesn't mean much."

"Why do you say that?"

"When I was an aide I had to do a bunch of gross stuff. Restraining a kid covered in blood, shit, and puke was a daily thing. Picking up soiled linen and clothes was nothing new. It was normal to find bloody sheets. Lotta of those kids cut themselves with anything they could get their hands on; some weren't even doing consciously. They just hurt themselves cuz they could. I'm tellin' you, possessions are real. " Carlos shuddered. "Part of my job was bathing the boys that couldn't be trusted alone. I kinda noticed that some of them would have bruises around their thighs and bite-marks that were too big to be their own. A few times there was blood around their. . .y'know." He ended, curling one hand to make an 'O'. "But I thought maybe they might have been fighting one of the older kids and got their ass beat. Way of the beasts with those kids when it comes to fighting. Biting, pulling, scratching, gouging – dirty fighting aint in their vocab. Still, it did seem off to me so I asked some of the others about it."

"What did they say?" Morgan asked.

"Not much. I would say something like, 'Did Johnny get into a fight? Cuz he's fucked up.' They'd laugh and say, 'He's always fucked up! What's new?' and then they'd change the subject. One of them must have had a hard on for Lindsay cuz not two days later she wrote me up for bogus reasons and threatened to fire me. Sorta needed the job so I kept my head down and stayed quiet." Carlos rubbed his eyes. "This was awhile back so I might be gettin' some stuff mixed up. Shit! I feel so fuckin' stupid. I know you guys don't like my kind but I aint a monster. I would have done something to shut that shit down if I knew, I swear."

"You're doing fine. Those victims are getting their justice." Rossi said. "Tell me, do you remember any of the patients you were assigned to? Did any of them stick out to you?"

"Homie, they all stuck out." Carlos sighed. There was a moment of silence before his shoulders made an awkward shuffle and his face suggested he had thought of something.

"Carlos? Did you remember something?" Morgan asked.

"Yeah, um, but the kid I'm thinkin' of wasn't dragged into Lindsay's prostitution ring. She hated him and avoided him; which is weird now that I think about it. He did get beat up a lot and the other aides didn't like being assigned to him because he always fought taking his meds. I didn't mind him though; he was cool."

"What was his name?"

"Spencer. I called him Spency though."

Rossi stiffened and shared a look with Morgan. They were thinking the same thing; Carlos Guiterrez should not have known that name. Witness Protection should have erased any trace of Spencer Reid after Hartmut had called them. An idea was beginning to form in Rossi's head and it left a heavy feeling in his gut.

"We didn't find any records of a Spencer at Children's Mercy." He heard Morgan say. Carlos blinked and then laughed.

"Oh, yeah. That's because his real name was Pierce or Pierre, something like that. But I never called him that."

"How'd you get Spencer from Pierce?" Morgan asked and Carlos shrugged.

"That's what he wanted to be called. Poor little guy was sedated when they had brought him in and woke up alone in a white room. I don't think his dad told him he was admitting him. Heard he caused havoc the first few nights before quieting down. Everyone called him a hell raiser but he never bothered me. When I was first assigned to him I was nervous as hell. Some of these kids were tall and strong. I about pissed my pants in laughter when I saw him. He was a skinny little thing and short to boot. I couldn't believe this was the kid my coworkers were afraid of. I still remember our first conversation. For a kid that was crazy, Spency was smart as fuck; maybe that's why they were scared of him."

"Can you tell us more? What did you talk about?"

"I did what I always did when meeting a new patient. I knocked and gave my name before unlocking his room. He was huddled in the corner diagonal from the door. I'm talkin' hunched down, arms around knees, and head down doing his damnedest to disappear. I kneeled down a few feet away from him and said "Pierce, can you hear me? It's time to take your meds." He flinched – like he was expectin' me to grab him – and curled in on himself even more. I tried again. "Pierce, dude, you gotta take your meds. It'll help clear your head. Don't you wanna feel better?" He shivered and looked at me. You ever look into someone's eyes and realize they're broken? That was how Spency looked because that's how he was.

"I've seen a lot of things in patients; hurt, confusion, desperation and pure anger. Lot of tears too, but I ain't ever seen a kid as sad as Spency. I called out to him again. "You alright, Pierce? You hungry? I heard you missed dinner today. I can get you some food if you want but you gotta take your pills." Finally, he spoke to me. I still remember his voice. It was barely above a whisper, high pitched and rough – as if he had been screaming for hours on end.

"My name's not Pierce." That's the first thing he said to me and I could tell that he believed what he was saying. His file said he was schizophrenic but that bounced to different disorders depending on which doctor was looking at him. Sometimes it said borderline personality and other times it said dissociative identity disorder but mostly it said schizophrenia. None of that meant squat to me but different diagnoses meant different pills so his changed a lot. Anyway, we were told not to follow along if a patient was having delusions. So that's what I did. "No, your name is Pierce. You've been admitted because you're unwell but we're gonna try and help you. We're here to make you better but you gotta help us out and take your pills." I said that to him knowing it was pure bullshit. Lindsay didn't care if they got better or not. More kids meant more money, after all. "My name's not Pierce." He repeated that several times before he began to cry and buried his head in his arms again. Even then he was still whispering it as reverently as one would a prayer.

"Now, I've seen kids soul deep in their delusions. They think they're Jesus; they think their supernovas in human form or wizards or aliens . . . whatever makes 'em feel safe and strong. Spency wasn't like that. He wasn't telling me he was an adult or something other than human; he was just insisting that Pierce wasn't his name. So I decided to humor him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know. What's your name?" I asked him and he froze. I thought the second coming was going to come before he moved again. When he looked at me, there was hope and hesitation in his eyes – like he couldn't tell if I playin' with him or not. "Spencer. That's my name. Spencer." I nodded and kept talking to him. "Spencer's a cool name. Sorry about the confusion. Can you do me a favor and take these pills?" I thought I was being slick by agreeing with him. He didn't answer me; just stared at my face before bursting into tears again.

"You don't believe me!" He wailed and had a meltdown. He slammed his head against the wall several times before I could stop him – thank God it was padded. The whole time he was screaming "I want my mom! I want my dad! Please, let me see them! Please, I'll be good. I'll be normal. I'll be Pierce even though my name is Spencer. Please, I'm so scared. I haven't seen them. I need to see them. I need to make sure they're ok." This turned into mumbled pleas that I couldn't make out. I sedated him and gave him his pills. Felt bad about that. Especially when he began to slur, "I'm not crazy. Why are you doing this? Why am I here? Why don't you believe me?"

"I promised that he could see his dad soon and he passed out not long after. Not sure why I remember that so well. All the kids insisted they weren't insane. Spency, though, Spency's the only one who looked heartbroken about it. Weeks pass and he settles in. New patients have to have an aide with them when they bathe. Spency hated that. Hated that I saw the scars on his chest. Let me tell you, there was a shit ton of them. I asked around after I saw them; I was told it was self-inflected but I didn't believe that. Ain't no way a kid could stab himself that many times before passing out. Nah, someone went to town on that kid and my money is on his dad.

"His dad was a real piece of work. Always wore a suit- I think he was a lawyer or something fancy like that. Probably ashamed and annoyed that his son wasn't normal. He stopped by every Friday and looked in on him. Never spoke to him or opened the door. Just peeked inside to make sure he was there and then left. Took less than 10 minutes. I wanted to punch that mother fucker for being so cold. Spency pleaded with me so many times to see his parents and his dad couldn't even bother to open the door to say hi. I never saw his mom. Soon Spency stopped asking. He stopped fighting and took his pills. At least, that's what everyone thought." Carlos ended in a sigh.

"What did he do, Carlos?" Morgan asked, sporting a mighty fine glare that went splendidly with his clenched fist. Rossi hid his own disgust at Agent Mosser's actions but gave Morgan his silent approval.

"He was hiding his pills. We had to check and make sure the kids swallowed them but Spency was faking it. Not sure when he started but he was good. Pill under the tongue or tucked inside his cheek was his go-to but sometimes he did some sleight of hand and made a show of it. He'd make it look like he took the pill while slipping it into his shirt or other hand. After that he dissolved them with water – the milder kids were allowed a cup of water in their rooms. If he didn't have that, he'd repeatedly spit on them or wait until he was taken to the bathroom to flush 'em.

"By the time I discovered this it had been over a year. In that time Spency really grew on me. He was quiet and didn't stir up trouble. Read so fast I thought he was fakin' but he wasn't! That kid remembered everything he read, too. It was out of this world. It's probably why he had a lot of cool trivia stored up in that brain of his. He beat everyone when Jeopardy was on. Whiz at math too. Could do shit in his head that I can only dream of. When I caught on that he was trashin' his pills, I was going to report it but I decided not to."

"Why?"

Carlos shrugged. "I didn't think he needed the pills all that much, he wasn't causin' trouble. I'm not saying he was sane. He talked to thin air sometimes. Couldn't stand knives and hated being restrained. We had to give him pills because injections were damn near impossible to give to him. Terrified of needles. So he wasn't well-adjusted but crazy seemed like the wrong word. In fact, when he took his pills he was at his strangest. Lot of those drugs had sedatives in them so they tired him out but they also made him paranoid? At least I remember his eyes flickering all over the place and he muttered a lot when he was on them."

"So you didn't make him take his pills after you discovered this because you felt bad for him?" Rossi asked giving Carlos a flat stare. There had to be more to it than that. Carlos did not reply. Rossi and Morgan kept silent. Sometimes the best way to make someone talk was to make them uncomfortable; it worked far better than threats.

"Well, hey, you said nothing I say here would add to my sentence. Is that still true?" Carlso said, caving under the pressure.

"Unless you're about to confess that you murdered someone, our word stands. The statute of limitations for drugs is 3 years." Morgan mentioned, hoping that tidbit of information would be a tipping point for their convict. He withheld a smile when Carlos began talking again.

"Ok, so I chose to become a member of the Sol Kings because it appealed to me more than the other gangs. I wanted support but I didn't want to be involved in selling women or weapons. Drugs I don't mind, but the other two just leave a bad taste in my mouth, y'know? Sol Kings is a niche gang- we only do drug related business. In the 90s fruit salad parties were getting popular in the underground. They're called pharm parties now, I think, but, yeah, people were asking for prescription pills back then. Librium, Valium and the like were pretty popular, but we wanted to get an edge on the competition and introduce some drugs most people couldn't get their hands on."

"And Pierce Derns was a perfect opportunity." Morgan supplied.

"It sounds bad when you put it like that. I didn't steal his meds; I made a deal with him. If he behaved and didn't raise a fuss, he wouldn't have to take his pills when I was assigned to him. It was a win-win for both of us; I got some pills no one else could get and he didn't have to worry about taking them." Carlos cracked his neck. "We had a good thing goin' for a few years. Then Lindsay found out and I was fired."

"She didn't have you arrested? The misuse of prescribed drugs is a serious crime, Mr. Gutierrez." Rossi said. That, and Lindsay Parker did not sound like a woman who would let something like that slide.

"She was going to – every bone in her body was vindictive. At the time I was fired, though, a bunch of professionals were coming in to look at the facility. Health inspectors, doctors, therapists and some other people were stopping in to check on things. They belonged to some board of mental health and Lindsay was already in trouble with one of visiting doctors, so she was more worried about covering her ass than burning mine."

"What do you mean she was in trouble with another doctor?"

"Children's Mercy had an open door policy. If doctors from other facilities were interested in one of the patients, they could request a session. It didn't happen often but 4 months before I was fired, an outside psychiatrist began visiting Spency. 'Course when a visiting doctor was in, everyone was on their best behavior and actually did their damn jobs. Most only visited once or twice. This lady began visiting every week. I don't know if she talked to the other kids or if Spency said something but she knew something wasn't right. I'm not sure what happened did but I walked by Lindsay's office one day and this lady was inside yelling all sorts of things at her. I was impressed."

"Do you remember this woman's name?"

"Oh, jeez. Um, I don't remember her first name. Her last name was Marigold, like the flower."

"Do you remember anything else?"

"About Spency? Not really. Still think about him sometimes. He helped me win big when it came to betting on sports teams." Carlos said, grinning. Rossi and Morgan looked at each other, both agreeing that Carlos had told them everything he knew.

"I see. Thank you for your time, Mr. Gutierrez. You've been a big help."

As they packed up and headed for the door, Carlos called out to them.

"Hey! Spency's not in trouble is he? Is he ok?" Both of them heard the concern and an underlying nervousness in his voice. He wasn't asking as a polite formality.

Morgan turned to look at him.

"That's what we're trying to find out."