Dr. Barry Grundland had been forced from the shadows by subpoena. As a psychiatrist to all the Ramona family, he had been at the center of their explosion and collapse. As Miroglio said, "He knew where the skeletons were buried." His power and success as a therapist lay in confidentiality, anonymity, and trust, so testifying was the deepest violation of his way of working. The defense created mysteries around his professional life. Why did a physician with such strong credentials -- a residency at UC's Langley Porter Institute, Napa State Hospital, further training in child psychiatry -- have no hospital privileges? If board-qualified, as he'd said, why not board- certified? The mystery deepened when Grundland displayed two pieces of paper -- his bills -- as his sole record of care for the Ramona family. "I do not keep records," he said.
Those pages held the dates of all his meetings with the Ramonas. It included the March 9 meeting with Gary Ramona -- the session before the confrontation that Gary claimed not to remember and that Grundland had to be prompted to notice, the meeting the defense believed was central to winning the trial. For if Gary had been warned, as the defense charged, and came knowing what to expect, he was not a hapless victim lured into a destructive encounter by Isabella -- an important part of his charge against her. Gary was still adamant that "I had no conversations whatsoever . . . I had no idea, no idea. I went down based on a phone call." The Ramona women believed that Grundland's soft voice belied betrayal and collusion with Gary and Mondavi, a suspicion that deepened as Grundland affirmed that he had never heard complaints at the winery about Gary's job perform-