by Mary Stone
I knew how to get things. Important things. And I never failed to deliver.
I made as much in a single month off of those “special deliveries” as I did on my paycheck. And the biggest perk of all…I made friends in low places.
My Lone Ranger black-market distribution service gave me access to the patients’ trust…to their loyalty. That was a priceless gift that allowed me free reign of the entire building.
I could access anything, and I could access anyone.
Everyone liked me, just like Red from The Shawshank Redemption.
The local NBC12 featured an anchorwoman reading quotes from anonymous male patients, her tone grave. “…‘and if you don’t need to go to the bathroom, they beat you with batons until you piss yourself and then beat you again for getting the floor dirty.’” The woman’s hair didn’t even move as she shook her head. “This horrendous accusation comes from an actual prisoner at Virginia State Hospital.”
I smiled as I eyed the other feeds. The claim was complete bull, but it sure did make for good news reporting. Philip’s face was getting so smeared with shit that the man would forget how to spell freedom before he ever experienced it again.
An article on FOX’s homepage shared the highly detailed story of one patient who avowed that his nurses made constant sexual advances on him, using his dick like a twenty-four-seven merry-go-round.
You wish, buddy.
My attention turned back to channel twelve’s live feed, where another quote was being shared. “…the doctor puts on red high heels and makes me watch while he screws the orderlies. He makes them call him Nancy Drew, and they’re his Hardy Boys…”
The declarations of atrocious misconduct were far exceeding my expectations.
Even better than Christmas. This day was a celebration both for me and the precious soul watching from above.
I was mid-paragraph, taking in an account of forced starvation and water rationing from another loose-lipped wacko, when a flashing red banner spouting “Breaking News” stole my attention. I clicked and read the latest update in the Dr. Philip Baldwin scandal.
Baldwin was being asked to step down from his position at the hospital. The board expressed they had several frustrations over the internal rules of the hospital that Philip had allegedly broken.
They had to be referencing the audio surveillance. Not a single soul had given Baldwin permission to use his preferred method of watch-dogging the facility. Any idiot with half a brain could have surmised that there had only been a matter of time before he got busted for that illegal fuckery.
But what about the murders? And why such a soft sell?
He was being “asked” to step down over “internal frustrations.”
That’s what they were reporting after I’d hand-delivered a dead nurse and a dead housekeeper?
And that housekeeper bitch was heavy. I bulged a damn disc dragging that heifer down the hallway.
But not a single mention of Evelyn’s murder. Nor Paula’s.
And certainly not Colleen’s.
Hadn’t these federal bastards had enough time to dig into the villainous doctor’s past and realize he was a horrendous, stone-cold, murdering monster who would only keep killing if he wasn’t locked away immediately?
“How many bodies do you need? How many mutilated bodies do you need, you assholes!”
I punched a hole in the cheap, paneled-wood wall next to my desk.
Unbelievable! Law enforcement was mocking…wasting…those women’s sacrificial deaths with every minute they hadn’t gathered together enough brain cells to connect the homicides to Dr. Baldwin.
To connect them to Colleen.
But why was I so shocked? They’d been incompetent when Colleen died. Of course they would continue with their incompetence now.
I laid a hand over the rough-edged hole in the paneling. I hadn’t meant to abuse my home.
“I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. I was just upset, you know? I lost my temper. But you didn’t deserve that. Forgive me?”
I leaned my forehead against the cool brown board. Instinctively, I knew I’d been forgiven.
But Philip Baldwin was not. He would never be forgiven.
And if I continued to leave this up to the authorities, he’d never be punished, either.
I pulled up the zoomed in picture of the doctor’s face.
So smug. So evil. So hated.
“Oh, Philip. This isn’t over. I’m a man who doesn’t give up. You will pay for your sins.”
Everything done in secret will come to light. All that is hidden will be revealed.
With a hope-filled heart, I ogled the replayed video feed of Baldwin being led by the detectives away from his facility. His fallen kingdom. And there, in the background, was the redheaded psychologist standing at the hospital doors.
An involuntary growl came from my throat.
She’d started this mess. My original plan had been much smoother, and every last step could have gone off without a hitch.
But she’d interfered. She’d found Evelyn Walker’s body before anyone was supposed to.
Sometimes, human beings were the instruments used to test one’s devotion to a path of righteousness.
That doctor. She was such an instrument. She was an obstacle purposely set before me to assess my dedication…my allegiance to justice.
I would leave no uncertainty behind for the ever-present eyes staring down from the heavens.
My commitment was unshakeable.
The flash of red walked down the sidewalk, confident and composed.
She challenged my faithfulness, and just like Philip, she would have to pay.
23
Autumn was beginning to accept the fact that “a good night’s sleep” might permanently be a piece of the past. The previous night hadn’t even come close to providing adequate shuteye.
She could blame Toad’s rampant snoring or Peach’s affinity for shoving her furry butt right in her face. But the accusations would be inaccurate.
Her sweet pets weren’t the problem.
She’d laid in this bed for a solid eight hours, and most of that time had been spent ruminating over an endless list of woes.
This case of the strangled hospital employees wore on her psyche. On top of the initial surprise of Evelyn Walker’s dead body dropping into her elevator car being forever emblazoned upon her memory, Autumn was unceasingly tormented by her conviction that Philip Baldwin was innocent.
Although there was no existent physical proof of his involvement in the murders that they knew of, clearing the cloud of suspicion that now hung over the doctor’s head was a monstrous undertaking. Her colleagues, his colleagues, local law enforcement, and the “always eager to judge” general public had all but declared the man guilty.
And her argument with Winter. That conversation had gotten completely out of hand, regarding both Baldwin and Justin.
Autumn hadn’t meant to be dismissive or severe…only firm. But she was aware that her words had hurt Winter, and her regret for the offense was enormous.
Likewise, her friend’s biting commentary had struck deep into Autumn’s own heart.
The predicament appeared insurmountable. Her job required discreetness concerning Justin’s case. But in what world could she possibly expect Winter to sit by in happy silence while her brother was being evaluated by her best friend?
Winter loved him. Autumn understood. She understood all too well.
But she also understood the necessary lines drawn between work and friendship. Crossing them could cost her the career she’d spent so much time and money obtaining.
And as harsh as those limits seemed to both of the women, Autumn believed that, for this situation in particular, they were for the best.
She’d witnessed Winter fall deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole, trying to find the little boy Justin once was. Autumn desired more than anything to find him as well.
Giving Winter back some semblance of her brother would be a beautiful
gift. She wanted more than anything to glimpse peace in her friend’s sapphire eyes.
But the constant question of whether or not Justin Black…the real Justin Black…was gone forever had consistently been leaning in one direction, toward one answer.
He was most likely damaged beyond repair.
Still, Autumn hadn’t given up, and she wouldn’t. Her determination wouldn’t allow her to throw in the towel, and her love for Winter would keep her trying even if she ever did reach some point of no return.
In the meantime, keeping an acceptable balance between the Black siblings was a challenge she didn’t fully know how to conquer. The perplexity of this undertaking ate away at Autumn’s essence every single day.
The burden was relentless.
And, of course, there was still the matter of Sarah. Her sister wasn’t a box on a to-do list she could simply check off. “Finding her” in Florida and learning who she’d become hadn’t resolved the matter.
She worried and wondered about Sarah with intense consistency. A voice forever ingrained into her mind whispered her sister’s name with incessant disregard for her attempts to focus elsewhere.
What had happened to the girl she once knew so well? How had she come to make such negative choices for her life?
Could Sarah be saved, or was she another case of irreversible injury?
Autumn couldn’t answer that question, but she was certain that she would never forgive herself for not trying…again.
“Get up. Go run. Pull yourself together,” Autumn commanded herself. Peach opened a wary eye, and she gave the feline a reassuring pat. “Not you. You can stay in bed.”
The run helped. Autumn focused on the steady pat-pat-pat of her shoes hitting the pavement. The rhythmic beat had a considerable calming effect, and by the time she was back at her apartment, any leftover angst that survived the bout of exercise melted away in the steam of a much-needed hot shower.
Autumn emerged from her home in a crisp black pantsuit, feeling competent and professional and yet again ready to take on the madness brewing inside of Virginia State Hospital’s foreboding brick walls.
Justin was her prime focus today. She’d missed her promised meeting with him due to the sudden outbreak of murder at the hospital, and she was aware that Justin took her cancellations personally.
In fact, her absence might have been one of the factors of his breakdown with Noah and Winter. Justin was often triggered by any action resembling abandonment.
Awesome. You’re doing a superb job with this one, Dr. Trent.
Autumn squared her shoulders and strolled into the building. She reminded herself that being in two places at once was impossible, and she had been giving one billion percent of herself to the job.
“Slacking” had ceased to be a word in her vocabulary quite some time ago.
As she passed through the administrative wing, she spotted Philip Baldwin in his office. The doctor was gathering his belongings into a few cardboard boxes. One of Chief Lewton’s officers stood guard at the doorway, keeping the disgraced physician under strict watch.
Autumn stepped toward the policeman and flashed her temporary credentials. “I can take it from here, Officer. I’ll keep an eye on Dr. Baldwin and ensure he is escorted from the building when he’s ready.”
The officer gave a nod of approval and immediately abandoned his post.
He was probably bored out of his mind. No action to be seen here, folks.
She knew she was the only one, aside from Dr. Baldwin, who held the opinion that the man didn’t pose a threat of any sort. But it was possible she could help change the doctor’s image by proving his innocence.
Philip was less than pleased to catch sight of her entering his former office. He pressed his lips together and began tossing items into the boxes with rampant carelessness. The man didn’t even flinch when a framed document landed with a brutal crash against the previously chucked items.
Autumn closed the door with a discreet nudge of her elbow. “I’ve been digging into your background.”
Dr. Baldwin shot her a sneer and proceeded with his haphazard packing. “How nice for you. Go away.”
Lord knew it was tempting, but she leaned a shoulder against the wall, settling herself in for a long fight. “I can’t. I’m your babysitter now. But you should listen to me because I want to help you.”
Philip said nothing, and like a child, refused to even glance in her direction.
“I’ve uncovered some things regarding your past. I know you had a successful private practice. You were doing quite well for yourself in that line of work until you allegedly became too involved with your patients.”
He turned his back to her and proceeded to grab books from the shelves, dropping each of them with unnerving thumps into a fresh box.
Autumn analyzed his physical response as she continued to say what she needed to. “There’s a particular case that threatened your career long before these murders.”
Philip still said nothing, but he hadn’t been able to prevent his body from stiffening. His book hurling displayed a considerable slowdown.
“That case is the reason you took the medical director position here. And I’d be willing to bet quite a few chips that coming so close to having your license revoked has a lot to do with your strict patient/caregiver policies as well.”
Autumn crossed her arms and waited, letting silence be her friend.
It didn’t take long.
Philip whirled around and stacked his boxes together, lifting the pile with ease. “We are not having this conversation, Dr. Trent. I’m ready to go now.” Even with the boxes in his arms, he managed to open the door and stride down the hall.
Shit.
The man’s legs were considerably longer than her own. She had to jog to keep up with him as he ramrodded his way through the building, down the stairwell, and straight into the ground floor level of the parking garage.
“Dr. Baldwin. Philip! I believe I can help clear this up for you. My co-worker, Agent Ming, is still digging, and she’s a brilliant…”
A dark figure emerged from the shadows of the garage, striking Philip on the back of the head with an object Autumn couldn’t see well enough to identify. Before she could say or do anything, Philip crumbled to the ground, boxes landing around him.
Autumn began to backpedal, frantically looking for a place to hide.
The attacker turned toward her. She froze as the gun he’d just used as a hammer on Dr. Baldwin was aimed her way, barrel now facing forward.
Shit.
Even as shock vibrated through her system, Autumn recognized the man. His shaved head was unmistakable. He’d helped pull her from the elevator she’d been trapped in with Evelyn Walker’s body hanging through its ceiling.
What had his name tag read? Autumn strained to recall the tiny detail from her memories of that day.
Albert. Albert Rice.
“What do you want? Why are you doing this?” She had to get him talking. Stalling and distraction were her only available weapons.
But their assailant did not answer. He shifted his aim to Philip as the doctor began to stir on the cold concrete. “Give me your keys. Now.”
Autumn intuited that the demand was not made in jest. Albert would shoot either of them without remorse at any given moment, should he see fit to do so.
She handed him the keys. He pushed the lock button, spotting the responsive flashing lights of her car only a few spots away.
“Get up on your feet,” he commanded Philip, who was now aware enough to follow the order. “Now!”
When the doctor appeared ready to fall, Autumn propped one of his arms over her shoulder, supporting him as the duo was directed toward her car by Albert and his firearm. The doctor’s terror flowed from his body, compounding upon her own, as he struggled to stay upright. He leaned heavily against her much smaller frame, and she began to perceive that his foggy waves of fear were multi-faceted.
Albert followed behind them, h
is gun no doubt fixed hard on his captives as they stumbled toward her vehicle.
We cannot get in that car. Never get in the car. Statistically, you will more than likely never return.
As her Camry loomed closer, Autumn’s mind raced for possible modes of escape. “If you’ll only tell me what you want, I’m sure I can help you. I know you probably believe violence is the only answer to your problem at this point, but there are always other ways. I work with the FBI. Dr. Autumn Trent. I can make sure that any issue you may have with Dr. Baldwin is settled in a legal and fair manner.”
A firm prod of the steel barrel at her back was the only response she received, and the car was now a mere ten feet away.
“Albert, I remember you,” Autumn continued. “You helped me out of that elevator. I know you’re not a bad person. Just tell me what you need.” She’d given up hope of garnering an actual response, but if she could slow this process in any way…
“Run.” Philip’s sharp whisper broke the silence. “Get help.”
The gun pressed hard against her kidney, and Albert’s large hand gripped the arm that wasn’t supporting the psychiatrist.
Autumn wasn’t going anywhere unless Albert said so.
He popped the trunk open with a single button press of her keychain.
Was he an orderly or a guard or maybe…a custodian? He’d saved her. Why rescue a person only to take them hostage?
“Get in, Dr. Baldwin.” Albert’s gruff voice echoed off the concrete columns like a macabre pinball machine.
Autumn braced against the heightened current of panic emitting from Philip as he hesitated. His deep-seated fear of confined spaces screamed from his body, which froze in statue-like stillness.
Just like his reaction in the stairwell when the lights went out…
Autumn was more convinced than ever that Philip never could have committed Virginia State Hospital’s murders. He wouldn’t have gone to the top of the elevator car to conceal Evelyn’s body. The shaft was too dark, the space too small.
And taking the time to position Paula against the wall of the linen closet, yet another ill-lit and cramped space, was also a highly doubtful proposition.