“I’ve got plenty of vacation time. And Tillman can cover me.”
My heart beats a little faster as I consider it. “But . . . what will you tell your boss?”
“Not the truth. Since Dax has gotten to at least one person who works here, I’ll figure something else out.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yeah. But we’re going to get the book and give it to the cops, not get into a shootout with Dax. And we do it my way.”
“Okay.” I squeeze his hand, hope warming me all over. “When?”
“Soon. Probably tomorrow.” He looks at the clock. It’s 3:45 a.m. “For now, get some sleep. I’ll sleep in the recliner.”
“I owe you. You’ve done so much for me.”
He cups my cheek and leans close to me. “You’ve done a lot for me, too. Maybe someday I’ll be able to explain it all to you.” He kisses my forehead. “Now sleep, beauty.”
I lie back, and he tucks the sheet around my shoulders. Even when I close my eyes, adrenaline keeps coursing through my veins.
I still can’t believe it. Dax sent Eli here. He knows I’m alive, though he believes I’m Allison. He thinks I can identify the men who killed my sister. He wants that book back.
Dax is a dangerous man. He’s ruthless, and from what I saw in that book, he takes out anyone who gets in his way. Or rather, he has others do it. He doesn’t like to get his hands dirty.
But I’m not scared of him anymore. My fear for my own life died with my sister. I plan to look into Dax’s eyes one more time and see the same fear Allison did as the life bled out of her.
Allison died for me. If that’s what it takes to get justice, I’ll willingly do the same for her.
I HATE LYING TO JOANNE Hawthorne. She’s been nothing but good to me since recruiting me to come here. And even though I’ve talked my way around telling her outright lies, I’ve lied by omission.
For starters, I didn’t tell her Allison is really Ava. I trust Joanne, but I don’t think there’s any reason for her to know right now. Being hunted by Dax Caldwell is dangerous whether she’s Allison or Ava.
But where I’m planning on taking her . . . that one got a little stickier. I told her I want to discharge Allison and take her to see a friend who I think can help her.
It’s sort of true. I’ll probably see Sam while we’re in Chicago, and he probably can help her. Still, I’m not really coming clean, and she knows it.
“A friend who can help her?” Joanne asks me, her brow furrowed skeptically. “Is this friend a doctor?”
I sigh heavily. “The less I tell you, the better. Not just for me, but for you.”
“I don’t understand.”
There’s a knock on her office door, and someone opens it. It’s Heaton, who ignores me and looks at Joanne.
“You needed something from me?” she says.
“Yes, come in, Dr. Heaton.”
Tension enters the room with her. Heaton sits down in the chair next to me, both of us looking at Joanne.
“Dr. Delgado thinks Allison Cole is ready for discharge,” Joanne says.
Heaton’s expression twists with disbelief. “What? She’s still not even speaking.”
“Silence doesn’t mean she’s mentally ill,” I point out.
“Well, she went from being vocal and functional to completely silent.”
“She experienced trauma.”
Heaton looks back and forth between Joanne and me. “Yes, that triggered it. And she’s not past it at all.”
“How does a person ever get past that?” I ask.
I know from personal experience there are some things I’ll never overcome. I live with the aftermath of my mistakes, hopefully, a better man now than I was then.
“Our philosophy is to get patients back to a functional, healthy place prior to discharge. Allison isn’t there.”
I shift in my seat, sensing that Joanne is going to side with Heaton. “What I want to do is try something new with her. I want to take her to see a friend of mine who I think can help her.”
“Who? Where?” Heaton asks.
“Why does that matter?”
“Because I’m one of her treating clinicians. I should be told.”
“I’ll brief you when we get back. And then we can evaluate whether she’s ready for permanent discharge.”
Heaton shakes her head. “I’m not comfortable with this. I won’t sign off on it.”
“I don’t recall asking you to.”
Joanne interjects. “We want to have the entire medical team on board with decisions about patient care, Dr. Delgado. You know this.”
I have to force myself to stay calm. “I’m the primary care physician here, and—”
“Which you remind us all of at every turn,” Heaton cuts in.
I turn to her. “Frankly, your treatment of Allison has been wholly unsuccessful.”
“Oh, and yours has been better?” Her tone is icy.
“Enough,” Joanne says.
“We record Dr. Heaton’s patient sessions, don’t we?” I ask Joanne.
“Yes, why?”
“I think a review of her sessions with Allison will show that she’s been unprofessional.”
Heaton gets up from her chair. “That’s outrageous. The unprofessional one is you. It’s obvious you have feelings for Allison. And now you want to take her away from here for a trip with you, and you won’t say where or why?”
I just look away. I’ve got no defense. I only want to protect the woman she thinks is Allison, but I can’t be honest about why.
“That is enough,” Joanne says firmly. She stands up behind her desk. “Dr. Delgado, I’m sorry, but I’m denying your request. I’d certainly be open to bringing a doctor or a therapist here if you think it would benefit Allison.”
My shoulders drop with defeat as she turns to Heaton. “And Dr. Heaton, Dr. Delgado is in charge of the medical team here. Please treat him with an appropriate level of respect.”
Heaton glowers in silence.
I can’t help but make one last try with Joanne. “Allison is in danger here. You saw the tape.”
“What tape?” Heaton asks.
“We have security,” Joanne says. “I’ll hire a personal security guard for her if I need to. But I can’t square this in my mind, discharging her because of what happened with Eric.”
“What?” Heaton looks back and forth between us. “What happened?”
Joanne answers. “Eric Hunt, one of our night shift CNAs, was terminated for assaulting Allison Cole last night.”
“Assaulting her?” Heaton’s eyes widen.
“Yeah,” I mutter. “Acting unethically to coerce information from her. Can you imagine?”
The flicker of awareness in Heaton’s eyes tells me I’m onto something. She swallows hard and shakes her head.
“I recommend upping security all around,” I tell Joanne. “This place isn’t safe for Allison.”
“But now that Eric is gone—”
I cut her off, my tone frustrated. “How do we know he’s the only one? The people looking for Allison could have gotten to others here, too. And next time we might not be lucky enough to catch them.” I look at Heaton, hoping she feels the full force of my accusation.
“We can’t overreact,” Joanne says. “There was a threat, and you handled it. We’ll increase security and address other threats as they arise. And I don’t want this situation discussed outside this room. I’m not happy with staff sharing information with patients that shouldn’t be shared. It can alarm them unduly.”
“Then how will the staff know to be on the lookout for other suspicious activity?” I ask, looking at Heaton again.
“I think the increased security will also increase vigilance. If things change, we’ll reconsider telling them. But for now, it stays here.”
Joanne covers her mouth with her hand and looks out the window, her forehead wrinkled with worry. I know she was upset by the video I showed her of Eric putt
ing chloroform on a cloth and pressing it over Ava’s mouth. She said she’d hired him herself, and she felt like she’d failed at judging his character.
“Is there anything else?” she asks, sounding weary.
“No,” I say.
“You’re sure Allison is okay?”
“She’s fine. I’ll do labs on her today to make sure, but I’m not worried.”
Joanne sighs softly. “I suppose I need to call her aunt and let her know.”
“We should call the Chicago PD, too. I have a description of the man who bribed Eric.”
Heaton looks downright ill. I’m more certain than ever that Eli paid her a visit, too. She makes a very nice salary here, though, so I can’t fathom her needing the money.
“I’ll take care of it,” Joanne says. “And I’ll call the security company.”
“Tell them you only want people who have been employed there for at least a year,” I say. “No new hires step foot in here. They could be in the pockets of the same people who bribed Eric.”
“Right.”
“What happened to Allison?” Heaton asks.
I stand up and head for the door. “I’ll let Joanne tell you. I need to get back to work.”
The adrenaline from last night still hasn’t worn off. I’ve been in crisis-response mode this morning, making sure Ava is safe and trying to figure out how to get her out of here. I don’t have the patience to deal with Heaton any longer.
I go to the staff lounge and pour myself a cup of coffee, taking the first sip as I walk out of the room and am stopped by a nurse named Carla.
“Dr. Delgado,” she says, an apology in her tone. “Sorry, but I didn’t know who else to come to about this.”
If I had a buck for every time someone said that to me here . . .
My frustration is making me irritable, but I don’t let it show. Most days, I’m glad the staffers know they can come to me about random stuff.
“Sure, what is it?” I ask.
“Leonard wants to update his will.”
“Why?”
She shrugs. “He’s been upset about people coming for him.”
“Still the JFK thing?”
“I don’t know. I can’t follow him when he gets this upset. I feel really bad for him.”
I nod and consider. “I probably need to adjust his meds. And in the meantime, do what he wants. Call Hawthorne’s attorney in Greenville and ask her to come out today and see him about his will.”
“Okay.” She opens her mouth to say something, then closes it.
“What?”
“I just . . . don’t you think we should remind him that he’s safe here and there’s no need to update his will?”
I take another fortifying sip of my coffee. “I do think we should reassure him that he’s safe here. But he has every right to update his will.”
“Even in a diminished mental state?”
“Yes. Most of his estate is locked down, but there are personal possessions and a little bit of money that he’s allowed to change his mind on as much as he wants.”
“A little bit of money?” Carla grins.
It’s common knowledge here that Leonard is the sole heir to billions from his family’s company. But his family attorney protected his estate a long time ago, so no Hawthorne employees can worm their way in with Leonard, thinking they’ll get a cash windfall when he dies. It was smart that they not only did it, but also made sure the employees here knew it.
“It’s probably more than a little bit to you or me,” I say, shrugging. “And have one of the CNAs take Leonard horseback riding or let him work in his garden. Those things relax him.”
“He’s refusing to go outside because he says the hitmen are waiting for him out there.”
“Damn.” I sigh softly. “Okay. I have to do rounds, but I’ll make some time after that to spend with him. Maybe I can get through to him. And I’ll adjust his meds.” I head toward my office, turning back to her on the way. “And you’ll call the attorney?”
“Yes, Dr. Delgado.”
I sit down in my office chair and finish my coffee, fatigue starting to creep in.
How will I break the news to Ava that she has to stay here? She’s intent on getting justice for her sister, and she can’t do it from the inside of a mental hospital. But my hands are tied. I tried and failed.
And how could I have left this place if Joanne had given me permission to take Ava? Issues like the one with Leonard just now pop up daily, and I don’t know that I can just leave all of the decisions to Tillman. A week or two off is one thing, but who knows how long it would take us to get that book, get it to the cops, and see that Dax gets arrested? I know from my army days that the missions that sound the simplest often turn into much more.
As if my mountain of worries isn’t tall enough, I remember Heaton’s comments about me and the woman she believes is Allison. If she can see that I’m attracted to her, can others? Whether I act on it or not, it diminishes my credibility.
I get up from my desk, take my white coat from the hook, and put it on, then finish my coffee and toss the cup in the trash. My worries will have to wait, because I’ve got rounds to do.
I JUST STARE AT DANIEL for a few seconds after he breaks the news. I guess I’ve come to see him as invincible, and it hadn’t even occurred to me that there was someone here who could tell him no.
“Okay,” I finally say.
“I’m sorry,” he responds, shaking his head.
“Don’t apologize,” I whisper. “You saved my life last night. I know you did your best to get me out of here.”
We’re talking in a corner of the library, which is risky. But Daniel said we can’t get caught alone in his office again because Dr. Heaton suspects his feelings for me. Guess the bitch is pretty perceptive.
It’s only about twenty minutes before nine, which is lights out at Hawthorne.
Daniel keeps his eyes on the open doorway as he speaks. “We’re bringing in extra security. I’ll keep the camera running in your room, and I’ll sleep in my office.”
“But . . . for how long? I can’t stay here, Daniel. Dax wants information from me, and he’s not going to stop just because Eric couldn’t get it.”
“I know. But we need more time.”
I shake my head. “I don’t have time. He could get to the book and destroy it. Or the next CNA he pays off could inject me with something lethal to keep me quiet.”
He exhales heavily. The fatigue on his face reminds me that unlike me, he hasn’t slept in a while. As I napped in my room with Morgan on watch this morning, he was working and trying to get me out of here.
“Listen, let me worry about it,” I whisper, wanting to touch him but afraid of risking it. “You’ve done enough.”
He turns his face away from the door toward me, alarm swimming in his eyes. “You can’t escape from here.”
“I’m not asking you to help me or anything. I don’t want to put you at risk.”
“No, you can’t.”
Morgan walks into the library with Milo, smiling. She takes one look at Daniel and me and takes Milo’s arm to leave.
“You can’t,” Daniel says again. “There’s nothing but forest and mountains for hundreds of miles other than Greenville.”
“Then I’ll go to Greenville.”
He shakes his head. “By the time you make it, there’ll be photos of you up everywhere. You’ll end up back here on lockdown in Level Three.”
“There has to be a way.”
Daniel crosses his arms, his expression tense. “There’s not. This place was designed to prevent escape. There are motion detectors wired to alarms. You wouldn’t even make it to Greenville, but you’d still end up on Level Three.”
“Where are the motion detectors?”
His brows shoot up. “You think I’d tell you that? Listen to me, will you? There is no escaping this place. It’s been here for more than fifty years, and people have tried. No one has succeeded.”
; I sigh, frustrated. “I have to at least try.”
“Give me more time. Stay alert and let me figure this out. You need me to get to Chicago.”
“But what if you can’t get us out of here?”
“Oh, hey, Alexandra,” Morgan calls out in a sing-song tone. Daniel and I step apart, both turning to the door just as a second-shift nurse named Alexandra walks into the library.
Thank you, Morgan.
“Dr. Delgado, you’re still here,” Alexandra says. “We need you on Level Three.”
“I’ll be right up.”
She leaves the room, and Daniel turns back to me. “Don’t do it. If you trust me, don’t do it. Once you’re on Level Three, you’ll be at least sixty days from Level One. That’s sixty days from any chance of discharge. Let me work on this.”
I nod slightly.
“Say it,” he prods. “Tell me what I need to hear.”
Dammit. I can’t deny him. “I won’t try to escape.”
“Thank you.” He sighs with relief and reaches for me, but he pulls his hands away when they’re just inches from my arms.
“Go,” I say, sensing that he doesn’t want to.
But he has to. Daniel is so integral to this place. Everyone looks to him for guidance. He’s got a steady presence and a mind for problem solving.
That’s why I know I have to listen to what he just told me, though it’s hard. But he’s right—I have to be smart about this. If I just jump, I may ruin my chances and endanger myself further. The thought of being locked down on the third floor—which Morgan calls Crazytown—is sobering enough to give me pause.
I sink down onto a leather sofa, gathering my thoughts, and Morgan walks into the room. Milo’s not with her this time.
“So . . . how are you?” she asks, her brows lowered quizzically.
I look at her and offer a small smile.
“You know I’ve got your back, right?”
I nod, scooting over so she can sit down next to me.
“Because I feel like I saw your lips moving just now.”
I just stare at her.
“It looked like you were talking to Daniel,” she says. “Or maybe he was reading your lips or something?”
I shrug. She gives me a look that says she’s not at all satisfied, but she moves on quickly in typical Morgan-fashion.
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