by Delia Latham
The older woman’s theatrics made her giggle. “How do you know I would?”
“I just do. It’s the kind of person you are.” She held out Destiny’s plate. “Would you like another sandwich?”
“I’d better not.” She eyed the tray, still brimming with food, and plucked a cookie from the pile. “I hate sitting here doing nothing. I’d go visit Karyn, but I’ve been so groggy. I guess I shouldn’t drive.”
“I’d love to meet the young lady. How about I take you to see her?”
“Really?” She swallowed a bite of chewy chocolate chip and bit down on her lip. “Will Clay be angry?”
“Clay doesn’t scare me one iota! I changed that boy’s diapers.” Claire picked up the tray. “Here, take another cookie. I’ll put this stuff away; then we’re going for a ride.” At the door, she turned back to lift a thin eyebrow. “Are you still sitting there? Go on, get ready!”
On the way to the hospital, Destiny filled Clay’s mother in on what to expect when she saw Karyn.
Claire tsked and clucked and shook her well-coiffed head. “What a shame! But I’m sure she got a good look at him, didn’t she? The police will find that rascal in no time.”
“No.” Destiny shook her head. She wrapped a hand around the armrest in a white-knuckled grip and fought back a terrified screech as Claire rounded a corner on two wheels. “Actually she didn’t see him at all.”
“Didn’t see him?” Claire straightened the wheel and slowed a bit, to her passenger’s immense relief. “How could that be?”
“He grabbed her from behind and held a cloth soaked in some kind of chemical over her face until she passed out. When she came to, she was blindfolded, her hands and feet were bound, and her mouth was taped. Karyn was absolutely helpless.”
“That poor child! And he beat and kicked her while she couldn’t fight back. The man’s a monster!”
Destiny closed her eyes, vividly recalling the monster’s icy eyes. “That’s putting it mildly.”
The car swung into the hospital parking lot and she breathed a silent prayer of thanks for their safety. Who would’ve thought Clay’s sweet little mother would drive like a maniac?
“So what else should I know?” Claire asked.
Destiny fought back an hysterical giggle, amazed that the woman’s voice showed no trace of the madness in her veins. She should probably make sure Clay knew that his mother metamorphosed into a vehicular Mr. Hyde behind the wheel of a car.
“Uh, well…” She scrabbled to collect her thoughts. What had she been saying? “Let me see…he yelled at her about Solomon’s Gate, and how she betrayed him by going there. He said she was his, and he wouldn’t give her up. A bit of the old ‘if I can’t have her, no one else can either’ mindset, I suppose.”
“Hmmm.” Claire pushed a button on her remote, and a reassuring beep let them know the car was locked.
As they strolled toward the revolving doors, a brief silence allowed Destiny a moment to admire the beautiful building.
Castle Creek General claimed the honor of being the most prestigious work of architecture within several hundred miles. It had been major news in the Creek Current a decade ago when an anonymous patient somehow obtained title to the magnificent building, which for years had hunkered on a hill overlooking the town like a dark, brooding and of course, haunted dwelling from some thriller movie. Destiny knew of at least three tales of ghostly activity on the premises, handed down through generations of local families.
The mysterious patient donated the deteriorating structure to the city, along with a gargantuan allowance for turning it into a hospital with every piece of equipment necessary to modern medical facilities. The renowned architect who oversaw the project took great care to leave the exterior as near original as possible, while ensuring easy access and structural stability.
With its turrets, towers and sprawling wings, the hospital had the appearance of a mid-sized castle. The building had been a commanding presence in the area for over a hundred years. Legend had it that the original owner built the elaborate structure for his wife, replicating almost to scale her beloved childhood home in Central Romania.
A narrow creek ran through the east side of town, made a huge loop—crossing over itself at one end—then meandered down the west perimeter, eventually gurgling its way back to the Feather River. It was the castle, located in the loop of this waterway, that provided a shared name for both the creek and the town.
Claire’s voice broke into her musings, drawing her back into their conversation. “You think the man who did this to Karyn is the same one who pestered you and Julie at Solomon’s Gate, then?”
She couldn’t help the spontaneous burst of laughter at her friend’s words. “Pestered? Oh, Claire, you are a gem! Yes, I’m absolutely certain it was the same man.”
“Well, then you saw him. I don’t know why the police can’t find him!”
Destiny motioned the older woman through the big doors first, and then followed. Taking Claire’s elbow, she guided along the corridor as she spoke.
“I did sit down with a police artist and describe him the best I could. I have to admit, she came up with an amazing likeness.” She urged Claire into an elevator and punched a button. “They say they’re still looking for him, and I did let them know that I’m sure the same man attacked Karyn, but I have no solid proof of that.”
Outside the elevator, it was only a few doors to Karyn’s room. They paused in the hallway to speak with the policeman standing guard. It was a different officer, one who wasn’t familiar with Destiny. She readily provided her identification, and the brawny fellow required only a quick glance at his clipboard to nod briefly and wave the two women into a couple of chairs lined up against the wall. “Someone is with her right now, and only two are allowed in at a time. Give me a minute, and I’ll let Ms. Peters know you’re waiting.”
He disappeared for a moment, but returned to give them a somber nod. “Her visitor is leaving a note—he’ll be right out. Ms. Peters is sleeping, so he didn’t get a chance to speak with her, but he said it’s OK. He’ll come back tomorrow.”
“That’s nice of him,” Claire murmured. Her eyes were fixed on Destiny’s face. “Are you all right, dear? You look a little pasty.” Her hands fluttered up to her face. “Clay will not be happy if I brought you out and made you ill.”
“I’m okay.” A wave of nausea slammed Destiny as she stared at the closed door to Karyn’s room. She swallowed hard and pulled in a lungful of air. Something wasn’t right. Destiny gazed at the police officer, who studied her from under a furrowed brow.
“Who’s with Karyn, officer? Do you have his name there on your list?”
“I’m sorry, I can’t give you that information.”
It wasn’t necessary. As he spoke, the door swung open and Karyn’s visitor stepped out into the hall.
Destiny's Dream
21
Destiny froze, staring into a pair of familiar cold eyes over a long, sharp nose. The man sucked in a startled breath, obviously as surprised as she was. Whirling swiftly away, he hurried down the corridor with long strides and clenched fists.
“Officer, stop that man!” She found her missing voice and used it to full capacity. “That’s him—he’s the one who did this to Karyn!”
Karyn’s assailant broke into a full run. To the officer’s credit, he didn’t stop to ask questions. “Get inside the room and stay there!” he shouted, even as he raced off down the long corridor, barking a request for back-up into his phone as he ran.
Destiny stood gaping even after the two men rounded a corner and disappeared.
Claire’s soft hand on her arm startled her. “Shall we go see your friend, dear? She’s bound to be awake now.”
Karyn appeared to be sleeping when they tiptoed into the room. Destiny brought a finger to her lips, signaling Claire to remain quiet, then took a quick look around. The officer said Karyn’s visitor was leaving a note…there! She spied it on the table next to the b
ed.
With Clay’s mom hard on her heels, she approached the sheet of paper, noting the letterhead from the accounting firm where Karyn worked. Both women gazed at the missive with repulsion and horror, as if it were a coiled snake. It lay unfolded, so they were able to read it without a problem.
Get well soon. We have a lot to talk about, and I hate every minit yer away from me. Don’t be frettin. I fergive you. I know you’ve learnt yer lesson, and now nuthing and no one can come batween us. I’m takin care of that. MS
“Ugh.” Destiny’s trembling hand hovered over the scribbled message.
“Don’t touch it!” Claire captured her wrist. The older woman’s plump fingers were far colder than the temperature justified. “It’s evidence.”
Destiny grimaced. “I suppose you’re right.”
Claire’s eyes seemed unnaturally bright over her pink cheeks. “Of course I’m right. Oh, I have so much to learn about this!”
“About what?” Destiny eyed Clay’s mother, a shadowy suspicion taking root in her mind.
“Nothing, dear, just an observation.” The woman’s cheeks pinkened, and she blatantly refused to make eye contact. “I just realized that police officers and detectives have to know a lot of stuff about a lot of stuff.”
“What’s going on? What’s evidence?” Karyn’s groggy voice interrupted, and Destiny heard Clay’s mother heave a sigh. That was definitely relief! What on earth is the woman up to? Destiny made a mental note to pry it out of her later.
“Karyn. How are you feeling, sweetie?”
“Like I’ve been tied up and beaten.” Despite her battered body, Karyn’s dark eyes twinkled and she managed a slight, crooked smile. “How do you think I feel?”
“I’m sorry!” Heat rose in Destiny’s cheeks. “I think that’s an automatic vocal response. Enter a hospital room, spit out ‘How are you feeling?’ as if you don’t already know the answer.” Self-derision dripped from her voice.
“It’s okay, Destiny. Really.” Karyn smiled, though Destiny thought it must have hurt to move those swollen lips. “I’m glad you’re here. Who’s with you?”
“Oh! I’m just not doing well today, am I?” She drew Claire up next to her at the bedside. “Karyn, this is Claire Gallagher. Claire is the mother of my—my friend, Clay.” Under Claire’s amused gaze, she felt another annoying wave of warmth in her face. Would she never grow out of that? “Claire, I’d like you to meet my client and friend, Karyn Peters.”
“Thank you for coming, Mrs. Gallagher.” Karyn extended her hand, and Destiny saw Claire flinch as she took it. Livid rope burns marred the delicate skin of Karyn’s wrist, and dark bruises stained her skin from there to the tips of her fingers, and up her arm toward the elbow.
“Just Claire, dear.” Clay’s mother held Karyn’s hand in both of hers now. Tears glistened in her eyes, making them bright as a silvery moon. “I’m so sorry this happened to you.”
“Thank you.” Karyn’s lips tilted upward again in a sideways grin. “I don’t like it much, either. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Claire.” Her gaze moved back to Destiny. “Now, what is it you two were talking about? And what’s up with all the racket in the hallway? How’s a gal supposed to get any shut-eye around here?” Her voice still sounded weak, and her words were halting, but Karyn seemed determined to say what was on her mind.
“Oh, it was nothing, really. Some guy saw your personal bodyguard outside the door here and took off running, so of course the officer had to go after him—just on general principle, I guess.”
Karyn’s quiet scrutiny made Destiny squirm, and with good cause.
“You’re an awful liar, aren’t you? Hey, where’s that thingy I’m supposed to use to raise my head?”
Whew! Thank God she let that slide so easily.
Claire sprang into action, bustling around Karyn’s bed, obviously in her element with someone to pamper. She straightened sheets and fluffed a pillow, then found the remote hanging off the side of the bed and raised the patient to a comfortable sitting position.
“There, now! How’s that, dear?”
“Perfect, Claire, thank you.” Karyn smiled up at her motherly visitor. “Keep that up and I’ll have my big, brave protector out there hold you hostage for me.”
Destiny relaxed, enjoying the feeling of genuine laughter, even though the ugly effects of evil cast its unrelenting shadow. Every glance at Karyn’s battered face reminded her the woman’s attacker was still out there. Please God, let the officer catch up to him right here, right now.
Settled comfortably, Karyn fixed Destiny with a narrow-eyed gaze, pursed her lips, and lifted her little scratched-up chin. “Now. Tell me about the excitement outside my door. Did someone try to get in here? It was him, wasn’t it?” She glanced at the note. “Now that Claire’s got my head out of that hole, I can see what you two were gawking at when I woke up. Is that for me?” She cocked her head and assumed an exaggerated southern accent. “Gracious alive, Miss May! You all wouldn’t a-been readin’ my mail, now would’ja?”
Claire’s panicked gaze wasn’t lost on Destiny, who had no intention of showing her friend that letter. Desperately seeking some snappy reply, she was saved from answering when the door swung open. Relieved, she turned to greet the officer, hoping to hear him say he had Karyn’s attacker safely in custody.
But it wasn’t him who sneered at her from across the room.
It was the needle-nosed thug himself, and in his hand was the same ugly little gun he’d been playing with the last time they met.
Destiny's Dream
22
Clay knew he was driving like a crazy fool, but he wasn’t about to slow down. What on earth had possessed his mother to take Destiny out without asking him first? He slammed his fist on the wheel as the signal light ahead changed to yellow, then red. He didn’t have time to stop. Glancing quickly in both directions, he floored the accelerator and zoomed across the intersection to the accompaniment of horns and shouts from angry drivers.
“Sorry, pals,” he muttered, taking a quick moment to check his rearview mirror and pray he wouldn’t see any flashing lights. “Thanks, Lord,” he whispered when there were none, then grinned in spite of the tension straining at his entire body. Destiny’s rubbing off on me. I’m starting to talk to God like she does. He found that the idea pleased him. It was a good thing.
Pulling into the parking lot at the hospital, he took time to scan the vehicles already there, and quickly spotted his mother’s spiffy old sedan. He slid into an empty space next to it, turned off the ignition and hopped out, rushing to the door without a backward glance.
A horrible sense of foreboding washed over him as the revolving door made its slow circle, ushering him into the front lobby of the medical facility. Something was wrong. And Destiny and his mother were in the middle of it.
Hurtling up the stairs, unwilling to wait for the elevator, Clay found himself praying in earnest. “God, I’m pretty new at this. I know I haven’t said a whole lot to You for a while—a long while. But I plan to do more of it, because without a single word Destiny has shown me that I need You.” Interrupting his prayer to mutter an “excuse me,” he slipped between a man and woman in the third-floor hallway. “I’m going to have to get back to You on that, God,’cause right now I have a definite feeling Destiny and Mom—and possibly Karyn, too—might be in trouble. Please watch over them for me. Keep them safe, and I promise I’ll serve You right. No more being a half-Christian. I’m in it for the long haul.”
Reaching Karyn’s room at last, he frowned. Where was her round-the-clock police protection? With his heart pounding like a jackhammer in his chest, he shoved the door open hard, sure beyond all doubt that he wasn’t going to like what he found.
“Umph!”
The door made solid contact with something much softer than the wall behind it. At the same time, Clay heard Destiny’s screamed warning. “Careful, Clay! He’s got a gun.”
Without an instant’s thought, he shoved the
door as hard as he could against the backing wall. A dull, bone-crushing thud accompanied a discordant clatter as something hit the floor and slid across the room. Behind the door, someone moaned, and then the unmistakable and somewhat sickening sound of a body slipping to the floor.
“Call the police!” Clay yelled. He took a moment to glance across the room and enjoy the thrill of relief when he saw three pairs of terrified eyes staring back at him. No one seemed to be bleeding or broken—well, other than Karyn.
His mother snatched up the phone, hopefully to call the authorities. Destiny ran the few steps to the extra bed and peeled off the top sheet, which she tossed to Clay. He didn’t even have to ask her why, but quickly knelt and used it to tie the hands and feet of the stinking animal who’d managed to get close to Destiny, yet again. The thought infuriated him, and he gave the knot a vicious tug, tightening it beyond what he knew was comfortable.
With a deep sigh, he rose, intending to fly across the room and take Destiny in his arms. Before he could, two policemen barged into the room, guns pulled and faces grim.
Clay raised both hands. “Easy, officers. Everything’s under control.”
They took in the scene in one swift glance. “Is anyone hurt?”
“No.” Clay nodded toward his prisoner, who looked like a badly bandaged ghost with the sheet wound around his skinny body. “There’s the scum you’re looking for. And this…” He crossed the room and pointed with the toe of his shoe. The business end of a pistol peeked from under the extra blanket hanging half off the bed. “This is his favorite toy. Please take it with you, and get rid of this filth.”
****
Destiny stroked Karyn’s hair while her friend cried.
“I can’t believe it was Marlon who did this to me! He seemed so nice—always polite, even kind of shy.” She paused for a moment, wiping her eyes and biting at her trembling lips. On the other side of the bed, Claire patted the hand she held. “Of course, we only ever had one or two actual conversations, and they were brief, but still!” She broke off, sobbing quietly.