“By accident.”
“I’m just surprised you’re afraid of a woman who merely digs people up.”
“I’m not afraid—”
“She’s really not that bad. But if you want, you can go wait for me in the car.”
I glared at her.
“Sorry about that,” the nurse said, returning. “I’ll give you a few extra minutes with Dr. Fortier.” She looked back and forth between us. “Is everything all right?”
“He’s just a little freaked out about meeting the ‘Skull Lady.’”
“Oh, don’t you worry.” The nurse patted my arm as we started to walk. “She’s really not that bad.”
“Yes, so I’ve been told.”
We proceeded down the dungeon’s hallway until we reached an open door labeled “Group Therapy.” The nurse rapped on the door and called out, “Doctor? Dr. Fortier? You have visitors.”
The mustard brown Group Therapy room had exposed pipes, flickering fluorescent lights, and at its center, five rolling whiteboards. Presumably the Skull Lady was on the other side of them.
“The young woman who visited you yesterday is here,” the nurse said.
A middle-aged woman wearing an untucked button-down shirt and braided hair appeared from behind one of the whiteboards. Her dark, penetrating eyes locked in on me.
“The young woman from yesterday…?” the nurse repeated.
“Yes, I see that. And a friend. Thank you, Wendy.” The Skull Lady’s voice was melodic and had a hint of creole drawl.
“I’m afraid you only have about ten minutes,” Wendy said. “I’ll come back and get you a smidge after eight.”
“Thank you.” Dr. Fortier waved Wendy away and watched her go. Then she looked at Mary. “Did you get me what I asked for?”
“We did,” Mary said.
“I don’t remember making a deal with we.” She directed her Skull Lady eyes at me. “Nevertheless, did we place it where I requested?”
“We will,” Mary said. “But we have a couple of questions first.”
Dr. Fortier sighed. “That’s not what we agreed to. And now we only have a few minutes. But, all right.” She waved us into her lair. “Let’s get this over with.”
On the other side of the whiteboards was a single metal chair, four tipped-over Styrofoam cups, and, on all five boards, mathematics similar to what I had seen in the go-bag’s notebooks.
“You look like a strong young man,” Dr. Fortier said. “Would you mind?” She indicated some metal chairs stacked against the far wall.
I brought back two chairs, and Mary and I sat down. I placed my hat on my knee and scanned the whiteboards. How crazy is this woman? I wondered.
“How about an introduction?” Dr. Fortier said.
“This is Henry—Henry Warland,” Mary replied. “He’s a friend of mine.”
Dr. Fortier folded her fingers under her chin and stared at me. “Henry James Warland?”
“That’s right.” I looked at her quizzically.
“Senator Warland’s son.” She smiled.
“You know my father?”
“No, but I’ve sought an audience with him about a hundred times. And here, the son of the Olympian himself, comes strolling right through my front door.”
“Olympian?” Mary asked.
“My father won the gold in wrestling—a long time ago.”
“It seems fighting runs in your family,” Dr. Fortier said. “I read about your little barroom brawl.”
“And I read about your skulls in hatboxes.”
“Yes, well, not all of us can be the obvious hero,” she said. “You fought to save a young woman’s life; I’m fighting to save the world.”
“Save the world?” I shook my head. This woman really is off her rocker.
“What young woman?” Mary asked. Apparently Brenda, her Googling friend, hadn’t gotten past the headline.
Dr. Fortier kept her eyes on me as she spoke. “A young woman that a pig of a man named Stewart Darnell attacked at a honkytonk just outside of College Station. No one raised a finger to help until Henry showed up. The girl was rescued, but due to the damage done to Mr. Darnell, Henry was forced to defend his actions in court. I saw Darnell’s autopsy photos, Mr. Warland.”
“How? The case was sealed.”
“My lawyer was Stephen Bremond.”
I sighed. “And of course the jackass just couldn’t help himself.”
“He was one of the lawyers in the failed civil case against Henry,” Dr. Fortier explained to Mary. “He’s an ass. But hey, he did land me these lovely digs.” She gestured at her dismal surroundings. “All right, enough about your boyfriend’s pugilistic adventures. Let’s get to these questions of yours, so I can get my suitcase.”
“Henry and I aren’t dating,” Mary said.
Dr. Fortier looked at her, puzzled.
“You called him my boyfriend. But we’re not dating.”
“Well… that’s a shame. So, what’s your question?”
“How do I know you can deliver on what you promised?” Mary asked.
“I suppose you’ll just have to trust me on that.”
“Why did Mary’s astronaut friend come see you?” I asked.
“To recruit me for a project that suited my skills. He said if I was interested he could get me out of here.”
“What kind of project?” Mary asked.
“I have no idea. I turned him down. But he let me know how to contact him in case I changed my mind.”
“He didn’t care about the Skull Lady stuff?” I asked.
“No. And let me make one thing perfectly clear. He told me how I could get in touch with him. Not you. Not Mary. I’m the one who needs to contact him, and then, and only then, can I even try to set something up for Mary. And I won’t do anything until you get me my suitcase.”
“So you can buy your way out of here?” I asked.
Dr. Fortier stared at me for a moment before responding. “You looked inside the suitcase. Of course you looked inside the suitcase. How utterly human of you. Listen, just leave it behind the dumpster like I told Mary, and that’s it. You two don’t have to risk a thing.”
“Not risk a thing?” I looked at her incredulously. “We just robbed a grave for the ‘Skull Lady,’ and now we’re helping her escape from a mental hospital…?”
“He’s pretty dramatic,” Dr. Fortier said to Mary.
“Tell me about it,” Mary replied. “And for the tenth time: it wasn’t a grave.”
“Also, Mr. Warland,” Dr. Fortier added, “in case you were thinking otherwise, I’m not a grave robber.”
“You dug up seven corpses and boiled their heads on your stove.”
“I didn’t dig anyone up. And I didn’t make shrunken heads—or whatever those reporters claimed I did. I was preparing evidence. But of course, no one wanted to hear about that. Including the people at your father’s office.”
“And this evidence you were preparing had something to do with that?” I pointed at the mathematical scrawl on the whiteboards.
“Yes, as a matter of fact.”
“And who, or what, is Raven Entelechy?” I asked, referring to the business card we found in her go-bag.
“Okay, listen, I’ve already answered enough of your questions—and, we’re about out of time. Nurse Wendy’s going to be back any minute. So Mary, you have a simple choice. Either put the bag where I requested or just forget about ever seeing your astronaut friend again. And Mr. Warland, I get the sense you have some vague idea of what these calculations mean, and presumably you saw the Eureka notebook. If you want to see where this all leads, help Mary make the right decision.”
Honestly, I couldn’t follow much of what was written on those boards, but I did have an appreciation of what it could be. At the same time, I was still pretty certain that Dr. Fortier was crazy. But was I really ready to end my little adventure with Mary?
“Well, we’ve come this far.” I looked at Mary.
“I though
t you—” She furrowed her brow. “Really?”
“It’s an adventure, isn’t it?”
“So…” Mary looked confused. “You’re saying we should give her the bag, right?”
“It’s your call.”
“Okay…” Mary turned to Dr. Fortier. “Well, I guess we’re doing this.”
“Good.” Dr. Fortier handed Mary a slip of paper. “Those are the GPS coordinates for where you’re to meet me. And don’t forget to put the bag behind the—”
“I know, behind the third dumpster from the loading bay,” Mary said. “Got it. When are we supposed to meet you?”
“Twelve thirty.”
“Tonight?” I asked.
“Yes, tonight.”
“Then what happens?” Mary slipped the paper into her back pocket.
“Then I need just one small favor from the two of you before I contact our astronaut friend.”
“What’s that?” I asked, just as Nurse Wendy announced her presence at the door.
Dr. Fortier leaned forward and whispered, “I need you to help me get my skulls back.”
• • •
After placing Dr. Fortier’s suitcase, as instructed, behind the third dumpster from the loading bay, Mary and I stopped off for dinner. At around eleven, we followed the coordinates Dr. Fortier had given us to Quincy Park. At the north end of the park, just beyond a line of trees, we could see Ellington State Psychiatric Hospital.
Mary and I, of course, had no intention of helping her get her skulls back—whatever that entailed—but we were curious as to what she had in mind. Besides, I gave her escape about the same odds as us being struck by lightning on this warm, star-filled night.
We strolled the park’s gravel footpath for over an hour before deciding to head for a set of swings on the other side of the brightly lit basketball courts.
“I’m telling you,” I said, on the swings a minute later, pumping my legs to catch up with Mary, “the second Dr. Fortier does something crazy, we’re—”
“You can call her Adella. That’s what I call her. She doesn’t mind.”
“Okay, well, the second Adella does something crazy, we’re dragging her right back to the hospital.”
“We’ll just ring the bell and run.” Mary laughed.
“Exactly. Of course, that’s assuming she even shows up.” I glanced at the metal links tugging at the eyebolts above me, then out at the long shadows of the monkey bars caught in the basketball court’s lights.
“Hey, how about a jump contest?” Mary asked. “Let’s see who can jump off the swings the farthest.”
“All right. You first,” I said.
“No, at the same time.”
“Mary, we’re swinging exactly opposite each other.”
“You know what I mean. I’ll go and then you go—”
“Fine, fine. Ready? On three. One. Two. Three. Jump!”
She sailed through the air, and a second later, I followed.
We both stuck our landings, Mary a good foot in front of me.
“I win!” she cheered.
“That’s because you’re lighter.”
“So? You’re stronger.”
“What’s that got to do with it?”
“You can swing harder.”
“But we were swinging at the same rate.”
“Yeah, and you had more weight behind you.”
“You mean like how it’s easier to throw a bowling ball than a tennis ball?”
“Try throwing a feather,” she said.
I stared. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Look.” Mary pointed toward the woods.
Across the field, Adella moved from the shadows into the light. She was wearing a blue work shirt and jeans, and appeared to be struggling with her go-bag and a suitcase.
We ran to intercept her.
“Here.” Adella dropped the suitcase at my feet and breathed a sigh of relief. “That thing weighs a ton.”
“Everything go okay?” Mary asked.
“Define ‘okay,’” Adella said, then immediately waved off the comment. “Come on, let’s go.”
Adella, for some reason, just assumed we would be willing to drive her to the Tempest County Regional Hospital, where the state had her skulls stored in the morgue. I was getting tired of being the naysayer, so we just went with it. We arrived at the hospital at two A.M. and parked behind the Northside Annex Building.
“Neither of you need to be involved in this,” Adella said from the back seat of Mary’s Mustang. “I have it all worked out. I’ll be in and out in no time.”
“Good,” I said sarcastically, “I thought for a moment we might be aiding and abetting.”
Adella regarded me with her Skull Lady eyes. “Look, if anything goes wrong, just get out of here.”
“We’ll be fine,” Mary said. “Henry just worries a lot.”
“Yes, I’m the unreasonable one here.”
“Okay, this is what’s happening,” Adella said. “There’s a morgue technician inside named Carl Weisman. He does grunt work at night—cleaning instruments, weighing organs, that sort of thing.” She took an Ellington State Psychiatric Hospital folder from her suitcase. “In about ten minutes, we should see Carl—the ‘Death Tech,’ that’s what he calls himself online—come out on the roof for his smoke break.”
She showed us his schedule, hospital floor plans, security camera positions, and even the security guards’ routines.
“Where’d you get all this?” I asked.
“Facebook, mostly. All I had to do was find someone who worked here and start networking. Of course, it helped that I had an appealing profile: Amanda Lovely. She was a bit flirtatious.”
“There he is,” Mary said.
An orange dot moved across the roof. By the time it reached the far side, we could see the man it belonged to, standing in the cone of an overhead light. He puffed on a cigarette and stared off at the highway beyond the trees.
“A little early,” Adella said. “But, okay, let me out. This won’t take long.”
I opened the door.
Adella made her way to one of the hospital’s rear entrances, stealthily maneuvering around two wall-mounted cameras. She typed something into the panel by the door and slipped inside.
“Pretty exciting, isn’t it?” Mary said.
“It’s something,” I replied. “Probably a felony.”
Ten minutes later, Death Tech tossed his last cigarette and started back.
“Come on.” Mary grabbed a piece of paper out of Adella’s folder and opened the door. “We can’t let her get caught.”
“Why not?”
“Henry. You know why.”
“Oh, right, the astronaut thing.” I pointed at the paper in her hand. “What’s that?”
“The floor plan and access codes.” She got out of the car and looked across the roof at me. “Better leave your hat.”
I frowned and, regretfully, tossed it onto the back seat.
Avoiding the cameras as Adella had, we reached the rear entrance. Mary typed in a code, and we entered the building. Down the hall, she typed in another code, and we entered the morgue. We moved through the outer office and into the autopsy room. On one of the four tables was a woman’s body.
“Mary,” I hissed as she started to take a closer look. “Let’s stay focused.”
In a windowed supply room on the other side of the autopsy room, we spotted Adella, rifling through a cabinet.
“Death Tech’s on his way,” I said, entering the supply room. “What are you doing?”
“I need something to carry these boxes in.” Adella indicated the seven black boxes on the table, each presumably containing a skull.
“Well, now we’re here,” Mary said. “We can carry them.”
“Quiet.” I held up my index finger. “Death Tech’s back. I can hear him in the outer office.”
Mary gently closed the supply room door.
“This’ll work.” Adella pulled a body bag
off the cabinet’s lower shelf. I steered her out of view of the window and over to the wall next to the door where Mary was kneeling.
Death Tech started whistling.
“Was this light on when you came in?” I asked Adella as the whistling grew louder. He was in the autopsy room now.
“Of course it was on,” Adella said quietly.
The whistling stopped.
“Henry,” Mary whispered, “we can’t let him see us.”
“Oh, really…”
“Henry.” Adella grabbed my arm. “You need to take care of this.”
Me?
The door knob turned.
Great…
Death Tech cautiously stuck his shaggy head inside.
I punched him on the chin, and the chubby kid hit the floor like a sack of rocks.
“Henry!” Mary exclaimed.
“What?”
“That was pretty good.” She poked at the tech’s body, half in and half out of the storage room. “I just hope you didn’t kill him. You know, like what happened with that other guy.”
“I didn’t hit him that hard.”
“He’s fine,” Adella said. “Why don’t we stick him in his office chair? Maybe when he wakes up, he won’t remember this.”
I chuckled, but when she didn’t join in, I said, “Oh—you’re serious. You really think he won’t remember—well, never mind. Fine.” I started to pick Death Tech up off the floor. “Oh, and in case you’re wondering,” I said to Mary, “we’re certainly aiding and abetting now.”
I placed Death Tech in his chair and folded his arms over his chest.
“That just makes him look dead.” Mary repositioned his arms, placing them on his armrests. “There.”
“Much better,” I said.
“I wiped the place down for fingerprints,” Adella informed us, dragging the body bag full of skull boxes into the office.
“As if they aren’t going to know it was you.” I took the bag from her and draped it over my shoulder like Santa Claus.
“He looks peaceful,” Adella said of Death Tech.
“You think?” Mary reevaluated Death Tech’s position, moving one of his hands to the desk. “How’s that?”
“Perfect,” I said, ushering her and Adella out the door. As the door swung closed behind us, I watched Death Tech slide onto the floor.
We left the hospital and headed east with one simple goal in mind: put as much distance between us and the crime scene as possible. I drove. As I listened to the highway’s ambient hum, I kept wondering how Mary and I could possibly explain our way out of this. In a matter of hours, we had aided the escape of a known felon, assaulted a morgue technician, and stolen the skulls of seven people.
The Scrolls of Velia Page 3