Derrick stood up and paced in front of Obenchain, his arms folded and his eyes pointed upward. Suddenly, he stopped. “If we can’t remove it, can we short it out?” He pointed at him, showing glee over his sudden idea.
Obenchain remained quiet, almost defiant in his refusal to respond.
“Come on, man, it’s a computer chip. It can be shorted out, right?”
“It’s…” Obenchain’s lips tightened.
“I’m tired of getting dicked around,” Jen interrupted. “Jorge, put a bullet in his head and let’s get out of here.”
Jorge stepped up close and placed the end of the rifle in Obenchain’s left ear. Derrick motioned with his hands for the Doctor to talk, a gesture that said you’re running out of time.
“No…please… It-it is theoretically possible! But the electric charge would have to be exact. Too small and it will do nothing, too high and it could turn him into a vegetable.”
“And if that happens, Doctor…” Jen took hold of Jorge’s rifle barrel and shoved it at Obenchain’s head.
“I know, I know, you don’t have to tell me again! But even so, I do not have the equipment necessary here to do what you would need.”
“What he needs is a good shock to his head. That’s what you’re saying?” Derrick pointed at Obenchain’s taser, now lying at the other end of the oak dining room table.
“There’s hardly enough power in that mechanism to generate a shock heavy enough…”
“We can amp it up!”
Jen recognized Derrick’s excitement. His eyes had grown wide, his words came out faster. Was he on to something?
“Come on, we’re geniuses. We can rig your stun gun with enough power to generate the shock we need! Can’t we?”
“Are you sure?” Jen asked.
“Yes. This plan could work.”
“That plan is crazy!” Obenchain shouted.
“What about theoretically? With your knowledge and my brilliance, can we make this work?”
Obenchain sagged in the chair, angry, threatened, helpless. “It is possible—but everything would have—to be precise. The voltage—the length of time the chip is exposed to such voltage…”
“We can definitely do this,” Derrick leaped toward Jen.
Jen approached Obenchain, placing an unfriendly hand on his shoulder. “I know you can do it, Doctor.” To Derrick she said, “Don’t take your eyes off him for a minute.” She faced the doctor again. “You have the night to get this plan working. Get that stun gun to do what you want it to do. We pick Rick up in the morning.”
Jen now placed both her hands against his shoulders. “You know where he is?”
“M-most likely he will be at his place of work,” Obenchain answered. “Will you bring my son back tonight?”
“Work, quaint.” She laughed, ignoring Obenchain’s question. “Where would work be for him?”
“The Brookhill Children’s Psychiatric Residence.”
“Wow, now that’s interesting,” Jen’s smirk grew even wider. “It’s been a while, but I’m familiar with that place.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
It was early morning when Doctor Obenchain stopped the white van at the front gate of the Brookhill Children’s Psychiatric Residence. He rolled down the driver’s side window and stuck his head out. He watched the guard step out of the booth and approach the van.
Keep it cool, Obenchain told himself. Don’t give the guard a reason to be suspicious. Suspicion could cost Arnold his life.
“Doctor Harold T. Obenchain,” he said to the guard. “I am here to see Katherine Miller.”
The guard, a slender man with glasses and a thick black mustache, checked his clipboard, examining it carefully. “I don’t see an appointment for you, Doctor Obenchain.”
“I don’t have an appointment, sir. I have supplies Katherine needs, and this is the only opportunity I will have to drop them off.”
“One moment, let me call up.”
The guard walked back to the gate, picked up the phone, and dialed. Obenchain shuffled his hands on the steering wheel.
Stop acting like a nervous fool, he told himself. This had to go off perfectly—otherwise they’d kill his son. They might kill him anyway, said a small voice inside his head. Can’t take the chance. Way at the back of the van sat Arnold, hands trussed behind his back, his legs tied with some brownish rope. There were two gags in his mouth. Physically, he seemed all right, but if the wild-eyed look was any indication, the boy would need serious counseling when—if—this was over. Sanaga knelt over Arnold, holding the fourteen-inch blade of a knife to his throat. Before leaving, he’d tried to tell them they didn’t need to do that—he’d cooperate, no more questions asked. But they were adamant. They weren’t taking any chances. First sign of rebellion by either of them and the kid took it.
To either side of Arnold sat Derrick and Jorge. Both wore long raincoats, out of place considering it wasn’t raining. Obenchain didn’t want to know what the coats covered up.
Beside him, in the passenger seat, Jen had a pistol in her hand. It was hid inside the sleeve of her baggy shirt, but it stuck out like a tire iron in his mind.
A tap on the window frame almost made him shit his pants. “Okay Doctor, you can go on in. Miss Miller will be waiting for you inside.”
“Thank you.” Obenchain let out a sigh of relief and eased the van ahead. He couldn’t help looking in the side-view mirror to see if the guard made any sign that things weren’t apropos.
****
In the facility’s main office, Rick removed his punch card from the rack and placed it in the machine, which clocked him in for work. He fitted the card back into a slot on the rack. Miller stood in the main office too, not six feet away. She had just hung up the phone on the secretary’s desk.
“Why in the world is he visiting us again?” she asked. The question didn’t seem aimed at anyone in particular.
Rick left the main office, doing his best to avoid eye contact with the head director. He hurried down the hallway to the therapy suite, the one place that felt like his own “safe space” within the uncomfortable environment, even if he did believe they monitored every single word he said in there. What did Miller mean—why is he visiting again? Just who was coming? The way she talked it was some digni—whoa—Obenchain? Why? Didn’t he get his fill of her bull the other day?
Didn’t matter, he planned to stay out of everyone’s way for the rest of his time here. Janet Murphy sat at her desk, thumbing the diaphanous pages of her Bible, as she did each morning before work, and usually during work as well. Rick waved his left hand in greeting and then made his way around the room divider to his own desk. Safe—the word shot through his brain. He’d made it without being accosted by anyone.
The feeling was short lived as Janet called out, “How are you feeling, Rick?”
“I’m all right. Well, as all right as can be expected.” Rick slumped into his chair, wishing he could hide here all day.
He could hear Janet put her Bible down on her desk and rise to walk around the divider. She invited herself to sit in the patient’s chair. She leaned forward and folded her hands on the desktop. “You really should talk about it.”
“Talk about what?”
“You know what I mean.”
He shrugged.
“Yes, you should talk about it.”
Outside the suite came the sound of students being led to their classrooms from the cafeteria.
****
Obenchain stood at attention as the hallway door creaked open, revealing Officer James’ oversized frame. The officer greeted him, then stepped out of the way, giving Obenchain access to the second floor hallway. Hefner rushed the last of the students into a classroom, then locked the door behind them. Miller then exited the main office and marched his way. Miller eyed Obenchain with a look of concern, understandable considering his sudden unscheduled visit.
“Keep it subtle, Doctor,” Jen whispered into Obenchain’s ear. “Don’t
even think of tipping her off.”
Obenchain nodded in agreement. He had no intentions of sacrificing his son’s life, or his own, in some futile attempt to play hero. Still, he couldn’t imagine how this group planned to abduct Rick Rasner without tipping anyone off.
Obenchain stepped forward. Jen kept pace at his side. Her pistol poked him in the small of his back. “Nice knapsack.” Officer James’ comment made his shoulders tighten. How silly he must have looked with Arnold’s green knapsack over his shoulders. More than silly, it may have also looked suspicious.
As Miller approached, her gaze shifted to Jen. How could he explain her presence to the facility’s director? He couldn’t pass her off as his assistant; Jennifer Duke didn’t exactly blend in among professionals. Miller had worked with troubled individuals long enough to recognize the eyes and stance of a psychopath.
Officer James, assuming only two people had arrived, attempted to push the door closed. He found his attempt blocked when two men in raincoats pushed the door open and strode in. They brushed to the sides of Obenchain and Jen.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” James yelled, placing a hand against Jorge’s chest, stopping him in mid-walk. “Who the hell are you?”
“Doctor Obenchain, what is going on here?” Miller asked. “Who is this—?”
“We’re here for Rick Rasner,” Jen said. “Go fetch him, now!” So much for subtle and not tipping anyone off.
Miller’s eyes narrowed with exception. Had she not yet realized the magnitude of the situation? “Excuse me, young lady!” Guess not. “I don’t know who you are but I am the head director of this facility and you will not speak to me in such a manner. I…”
“You’re boring me.” Jen released her arm from around Obenchain’s back, her gun now pointed at the side of the doctor’s head. “Get a move on, you’re holding us up.”
Jorge followed Jen’s lead by reaching under his rain jacket and removing his rifle. He pointed it into the chest of Officer James who raised his arms in the air and backpedaled away from the door. Derrick, who sported a raincoat two sizes larger than his frame, folded his arms across his chest, like he thought things were going quite well indeed.
“Okay, everyone, let’s all keep cool,” Jen said. Obenchain had to second that thought. “We’re here for Rick Rasner, and I expect to be reunited with him immediately.”
“Young lady, I agree this can be handled calmly and without need of threats or violence,” Miller said. “Now, who are you and what do you want with a member of my staff?”
“I see you haven’t changed much over the years, Miss Miller.” Jen flashed a confident smirk that appeared to irritate the shit out of Miller. Jen added, “You’re still the same stubborn bitch I always knew…and loved.”
The word love, not surprisingly, wasn’t tempered with fond emotion. “You seem to know me very well. Am I supposed to know you?” Miller asked, although it suddenly made sense to Obenchain. Miller had seen so many patients come and go over the years, she couldn’t have remembered them all, even one named Jennifer Duke. “My mother put me in this dump when I was thirteen years old,” Jen said with venom in her voice. “I dealt with your crap in that classroom for an entire month before I took it upon myself to get the hell out.”
Escape. She’d escaped. A board meeting from years ago hit Obenchain like a falling piano. Only one patient had ever escaped from here. Miller took responsibility for the incident. Her nobility almost ended her career. “You’re that Duke girl!”
“I see you do remember me.”
“I remember a good woman you murdered the day you escaped.”
“I’ve murdered many more since then,” Jen responded with pride, “so I suggest you shut up and cooperate.”
“Hey, what’s going on here?” Derrick broke in, stepping between James and Hefner. “Those facial tics or do you two have some sort of private communication going on...”
Officer James spun and grabbed Jorge’s rifle. The big men struggled, falling into a virtual “tug-of-war” that froze everyone else in place. James proved to have a decisive strength advantage, which he showed by thrusting his slightly smaller opponent up against the wall.
Obenchain’s jubilation at this was short lived when Hefner’s forward movement was cut off by the appearance of a handgun from beneath Derrick’s raincoat. He poked it into Hefner’s chest. “Back off, lady.”
A loud BANG echoed throughout the hallway. Officer James’ head snapped forward and then back. His hands dropped from the rifle. His body slumped to the floor. Hefner let out a shriek that also echoed off the brick walls. Blood gushed out of the back of Officer James’ head and puddled around him. Again the group stood mesmerized.
Like a cowboy on Gunsmoke, Jen blew away the smoke emanating from the gun barrel. “This is not a game, and I am not in the mood. I want to see Rick Rasner, now!” Jen pointed her pistol at Miller. The psychotic look in her eyes just about buckled Miller’s knees. “I won’t ask again.”
Miller stared into the gun, considering the options. Obenchain shook his head, hoping she’d pick up on the silent message—Do nothing, just cooperate. This was beyond what Miller or her staff could handle. “The therapy suite is the last door at the end of the hallway,” she said. “He should be in there.”
“Thank you. See how easy that was?” Jen lowered her gun, placed her left hand against Obenchain’s back and gave him a shove. “Let’s go, Doctor.”
“Jen, we can’t leave these people behind,” Derrick called. “One of them will most likely call the cops.”
“Then they can all come with us! But any problems and we start shooting!”
“Muevete ¡vaca!,” Jorge said to Hefner who’d knelt by the head of her colleague. She peered up at him, tears in her eyes. Jorge reached down and pulled her up. She placed her hands against her stomach. Her body trembled.
Miller walked ahead of them. Derrick followed, making sure to keep his own weapon at the ready. Obenchain noticed teachers, and even a few students, peeking through the glass windows of the classroom doors. God, what a massacre they’d have on their hands if they chose this moment to get curious.
“I want everyone to remain in your classrooms.” Miller shouted. “No one is to step out in this hallway until further notice.”
Such bravery impressed Obenchain, but in this case, it was a mistake. The members of the Duke Organization were more than capable of leaving this facility a morgue.
Miller stopped in front of the therapy suite and removed the key on a chain inside her blouse. She glanced at Obenchain, who avoided looking at her. “This is on your head, Doctor.”
Damn, somehow, he knew this would fall on his shoulders. “How could we know they’d figure out where he was?”
“I should have never let you place him here. That was my mistake.” One of many Obenchain had forced on the Brookhill residence. Never before had one of them bit him so hard in the ass like today.
“You knew well the arrangement when you accepted our contributions to the facility…”
“Would you two kindly shut up?” Jen said.
Hefner held back, looking at James’ body. The second raincoated man’s head lurched around as if something had caught his eye. He sprinted away from them, and back up the hallway.
“This is the therapy suite,” Miller said, watching him. “Mister Rasner should be in here.”
“Then let us in,” Jen said, mimicking Miller’s stiff voice.
Miller placed her key in the lock and turned it.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Emotionally impaired, that’s what she called me.” Rick vented to Janet, who listened patiently. “I’m starting to wonder if she’s right. Miller is cruel, nasty, and merciless, but maybe she has a point.”
“She does not,” Janet said. “You should never think of yourself like that.”
“I know, it’s just…I’m beginning to wonder.” Rick touched his forehead with his left hand. “Recently, I’ve felt unusually paranoid, maybe even a
bit off.”
“Off?” Janet looked at him, not as a friend, but as a therapist speaking to her client. “Can you clarify that?”
“Well, it’s just…I don’t know it might just be stress. I can’t be sure, but I think…”
Rick and Janet both turned toward the sound of a key scratching into the lock. The door opened. Somehow Rick stifled a groan of dismay seeing Katherine Miller enter the room. He did frown though. For the first time since meeting her, her eyes weren’t glazed with anger or revenge. As a matter of fact, she didn’t look either him or Janet in the eye. Rick’s nerves jumped into high alert. What did she want?
He stood up out of his seat. Janet did the same, apparently also sensing something wrong. Just inside the door, Miller stepped to the left. Doctor Obenchain—so he was the one Miller was not so anxious to see—pushed past her. The doctor was stiff and formal. Now Rick knew something was up. What was his relationship to Miller? Rick couldn’t fathom anything that could unite a congenial man like Obenchain with a nasty bitch like Miller.
“Is everything okay?” Rick asked, not really sure he wanted an answer.
Obenchain did not respond. He mouthed something to himself, then shook his head like he tried to decide something. Then he talked over his shoulder to someone behind him. “I will try my best to explain to him the situation before you come in. I don’t know how well it will alleviate the shock of it all, but perhaps if I could…”
A hand appeared on the doctor’s shoulder and shoved him aside. A third person entered, a blonde woman wearing a skin-tight pink blouse. She marched up to Rick and peered into his face. Her eyes squinted and she broke into a mile-wide grin. The face looked familiar. Blonde hair and a confident smile. Rick knew it well, but how could that be? All of a sudden familiar memories and feelings filled his head faster than he could process what they meant.
“I-I know you,” he stuttered.
“Oh my god, Rick, what the hell have they done to you?”
Rick’s eyes blinked as he looked back and forth, from Jen to Obenchain and then back to Jen. The confusion turned to anger and then to rage.
The Rasner Effect Page 17