“You still think Shana didn’t kill Donnie?” Phil asked. “I mean, that whole arriving home covered in blood, then pulling the boy’s ear out of her pocket. Sounds pretty convincing to me.”

“I think my sister doesn’t honestly know what happened that night. Hence, her terrible job defending herself. She may have killed Donnie. She may not have. She doesn’t know, which is the other reason she probably never speaks of that night. She doesn’t remember it.”

“Umm . . .what?” Phil asked.

“The symptoms Mrs. Davies described are consistent with a psychotic break—an episode of acute primary psychosis when reality becomes unbearable and the brain shuts down. Probably Shana had been suffering symptoms for a while, but no one put the pieces together. Most psychotic breaks are triggered by extreme or sudden stress. Say, a battlefield experience, new parenthood or trauma.”

“Such as killing a twelve-year-old boy,” Phil said.

“Or witnessing his murder.”

“Hang on,” D.D. interjected. “Why didn’t Shana’s defense lawyer figure this out? I mean, the way you describe it, a psychotic episode would be the perfect defense. She wasn’t in her right mind.”

Adeline shrugged. The night had fallen, the air fulfilling its earlier promise of icy chill. The doctor, in only a thin sweater, wrapped her arms around her waist.

“Shana wouldn’t be in a position to say what happened. Most people suffering psychotic episodes can’t remember them. Given her troubled past, maybe her lawyer felt such a defense wouldn’t hold up. Shana already had a history of violence. Why would the jury believe this single incident was different than all the rest?”

“But that means she could’ve killed Donnie Johnson,” Phil said. “And the reason he doesn’t fit the profile of her other victims is that she was out of her mind at the time. I mean, how else to explain the bloody knife, the ear in her pocket? That sounds like she did a bit more than stumble upon a murder in the neighborhood.”

Adeline didn’t answer, but D.D. had the impression the doctor’s mind was already made up. She didn’t believe her sister had killed the boy. Wishful thinking from someone who really should know better? Or something else she wasn’t willing to share with them yet? It bothered D.D. still, Charlie Sgarzi’s offhand observation. That if skinning was the signature element for both Harry Day and Shana Day, and if they couldn’t be the Rose Killer for obvious reasons, well, there was one family member left.

“You said you and your sister didn’t grow up together,” D.D. said. “So when did you meet again?”

“About twenty years ago. She wrote me a letter.”

“She initiated contact?”

Adeline’s voice was dismissive. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Because she was bored? Because I’m the only family she has left? You’d have to ask her.”