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sister,” Savich said, looking at his brother-in-law closely. “What would you expect?” He’d always liked Tennyson, believed he’d been a solid man, one who was trustworthy, unlike Lily’s first husband, Jack Crane. He’d believed Tennyson had been as distraught as Lily when Beth was killed. He had worked with Savich trying to find out who the driver was who’d killed Beth. As for the sheriff, he’d been next to useless. What was wrong? Why didn’t Lily want to see him?
    Tennyson merely nodded, then kissed Lily again. He said, his voice as soft as a swatch of Bengali silk, “I can’t wait to get you out of this place, get you home. You’ll be safe with me, Lily, always.”
    But she hadn’t been safe, Sherlock thought. That was the bottom line. She’d run her Explorer into a redwood. Hardly safe. What was wrong with this picture?
    “What about that psychiatrist, Tennyson?”
    “Dr. Rossetti? I would really like you to see him, Lily. He can help you.”
    “You said you would institutionalize me if I didn’t see him.”
    Savich nearly went en pointe.
    Sherlock laughed. “Institutionalize Lily? Come on, Tennyson.”
    “No, no, all of you misunderstood. Listen, Lily very probably drove into that redwood last night. This is the second time she’s tried to end her life. You were both here after the first time. You saw how she was. Her mother saw as well. Well, she’s been on medication, but obviously it hasn’t helped. I want her to speak to a very excellent psychiatrist, a man I respect very much.”
    “I don’t like him, Tennyson. I don’t want to see him again.”
    Tennyson sighed deeply. “All right, Lily. If you don’t like Dr. Rossetti, then I’ll find another man who could possibly help you.”
    “I would prefer a woman.”
    “Whatever. I don’t know of any female psychiatrists who do anything other than family counseling.”
    Savich said, “I’ll have some names for you by tomorrow, Lily. No problem. But we’re a bit off the subject here. I want to know the name of the antidepressants Lily’s been taking and I want to know why they seem to have the opposite effect on her.”
    Tennyson said patiently, “It’s a very popular drug, Dillon. Elavil. You can ask any doctor.”
    “I’m sure it is. I suppose there are a certain number of people who simply don’t respond appropriately?”
    “Unfortunately, yes. I was considering whether or not we should try another drug—Prozac, for example.”
    Savich said, “Why don’t you just wait on all the drugs until Lily has seen a new psychiatrist. What happened to Dr. McGill? Weren’t you with him for a while, Lily?”
    “He died, Dillon, not two weeks after I began seeing him. He was such a sweet man, but he was old and his heart was rotten. He had a heart attack.”
    Tennyson shrugged. “It happens. Hey, I saw you on TV, Savich, there with all the FBI brass. You got the Warlocks.”
    “Turns out there was only one warlock, the other was a witch.”
    “Yes, a brother and a sister. How did everyone miss that?”
    “Good question.” Savich saw that Lily was listening closely now. She loved hearing about their cases, so he kept talking about it. “Turns out one of them wasn’t really a guy, just dressed like one—Timmy was really a she. She even lowered her voice, cropped off her hair, the whole deal. The profilers never saw it and neither did any of my unit. Instead of Tammy, to the world she was Timmy.”
    “Did the brother and sister sleep together?” Tennyson said.
    “Not that we know of.”
    Lily said, “It was MAX who managed to track down that barn?”
    “That’s right. Once we knew the Tuttles were back in Maryland, I knew in my gut that this was their final destination, that they’d come home, even though they’d been born and raised in Utah. They kidnapped the boys in Maryland. So where were they? MAX always checks out any and every relative when we know who the suspect is. He dug deep enough to find Marilyn Warluski,