The Elk (A Caine & Murphy Paranormal Thriller Series Book 1)

by Dominika Waclawiak

  “You’re not telling us everything,” Detective Murphy added.

  “I have nothing to hide. You have all my notes. I’ve even interviewed some of the residents on the nights in question. It’s all in the summary.” He gestured at the sheets in her hand. “All I know is in there.”

  “We’ll need to speak with you again after we’ve looked through your notes,” Detective Larson said and Barney stood up to leave. What a disappointing pair of detectives. They didn’t have enough brains between them to stop her. That was the one thing that Nurse Louise had going for her. She was more intelligent than the lot of them.

  “I’m not going anywhere, and their medical records will show you all you need to know,” he reiterated and tried hard not to stomp to the door. He kept his fury in check as he thought over his other options. Maybe Sara Caine would help. He pulled the door open and saw Doreen rushing away from the door.

  “What are you doing, Doreen?” he asked and closed the door before either of the detectives could see her. If they weren’t going to help them then they didn’t need to know all their secrets. He grabbed her by the arm.

  “Did you hear everything?” he whispered.

  “I didn’t hear anything, Barney. I swear,” Doreen stammered as her watery eyes went wide. Everyone knew Doreen was a busybody and Barney assumed she knew her reputation. Her blushing felt out of character, though, and he wondered if she was embarrassed about something else.

  “You need to be careful, Doreen. Protect yourself at all costs,” he said and jagged his finger back at the office. “Those fools aren’t going to help us. We’re going to need to help ourselves.”

  “Whatever you say, Barney.” She pulled her arm back and hurried away from him. He hadn’t meant to scare her but, on second thought, maybe it was better this way. Everyone who lived at Sunshine needed to be terrified.

  Lou Fairbanks wandered through the streets of Hollywood, unaware of the crowds of tourists, peddlers, and Scientologists that walked past her, and tried to remember the last time she’d left the Bockerman. Was it last week? The week before? She took a deep breath and sucked in enough car exhaust to bring on a fit of coughing. Even with all the smog, it felt good to be outside. The sun warmed her skin and made her smile.

  Her job didn’t permit her too much alone time, and her patients had all they needed at the home. Since all their meals were served in the cafeteria, food wasn’t an issue, and anything else Lou needed she got once a month at the local 99c store. Sunshine assisted living home had a small pharmacy on the bottom floor that took care of everything else. No need to ever leave the place. She closed her eyes and tilted her face to the sun. How can anything be bad in such sunshine, she thought and walked past the Sunshine, not ready to go back inside. There wasn’t much to see on the blocks past Ivar but she didn’t care. The sun almost made her feel normal. Almost.

  It was some time before she stepped back inside the gloomy lobby of the home and left the sun behind. Diane hovered in the shadows looking as if she was waiting for someone. Lou gave her a smile as she crossed the lobby, making her way to the stairs when she saw Diane wave to get her attention.

  “The detectives need to speak with you,” Diane said and gestured to her office. Lou felt the dread creep in as she closed the distance between them.

  “We’ve been looking for you forever,” Diane added.

  “Sorry, I just stepped outside for a walk,” Lou explained, her cheeks burning.

  “They’re inside and waiting.” Diane gestured again and Lou stepped into her office. The two detectives had commandeered Diane’s desk, and Lou sat down in the chair opposite them. How she wished she was back in the sun.

  “This is Detective Larson, and my name is Detective Murphy. We’re investigating the suspicious deaths of Lauren Dolmar and Barbara Monroe. Where were you two nights ago?

  “Asleep.”

  “The entire night?” Murphy asked.

  “No, I woke up around two thirty. Dads was having a bad night and it took me forever to get him back to sleep.”

  “And Dads is your father?” Lou nodded. “And your father will corroborate this?” Detective Larson demanded as he scrutinized her.

  “I hope so,” she said and took a deep breath. “He has dementia, and his mind comes and goes. But that was a particularly bad night—“

  “How so?” Murphy asked looked up from her notebook and smiled reassuringly at her.

  “You’ve been told about the ghost we have here? Or the séance?” Lou asked. The detectives gave each other a look. She knew she sounded certifiable but how could she explain Dads getting hurt and then Sara Caine collapsing without mentioning the séance? She wondered what Barney and the others said about their whereabouts last night. “No one mentioned the ghosts?” she asked in a small voice. Detective Murphy shook her head as she smothered a smile. They’d all left her flapping in the breeze alone, she thought.

  “The EMT’s came and took the medium away in the middle of it. That was around nine thirty last night, but you can always check with them. Diane knew about it too and Barney Leonard, Mary Ann McClatch and Doreen Stevens were all there with us.”

  “Is that so?” Detective Larson said.

  “I’m the only one brave enough to tell the truth, I guess. There’s been lots of strange sounds, sobbing, whispering, and thumps,” Lou said.

  “Rats in the walls or most likely faulty pipes in a place this old,” Detective Murphy suggested.

  “That’s what I thought as well but then…” She stopped. “Dads got attacked,” she blurted out.

  “What do you mean attacked?” Detective Murphy leaned in.

  “Someone carved HELP ME into his arm.”

  “Carved?” Detective Larson asked.

  “Like, scratched. With a sharp object or something. The ghost hunters were here that day and we filmed the hallway during the attack. No one came in or out of my apartment.”

  “Did you say ghost hunters?” Larson asked.

  “I did. They wired cameras in the hallways trying to document Irene—“

  “Who’s Irene?” Murphy cut in.

  “She’s the ghost. She died on the floor above me,” Lou said.

  “Are you mental? You’re a nurse for chrissakes,” Larson said and shook his head in disbelief. Lou reddened and her anxiety vertigo hit her hard, making her clutch the arms of the chair. She took a deep breath and prayed they hadn’t noticed. She couldn’t show them her panic and have them misjudge it as guilt, she thought and focused on her right hand, another technique she had to combat anxiety, courtesy of Dr. Jerris.

  “We should talk to Dads,” Murphy said and shot him a warning look. She shoved her chair back with some force and got up. “We should do that now.” Larson followed her lead.

  “He tends to be more lucid in the mornings,” Lou offered as she took the lead.

  Lou hovered near the door, afraid they would notice her shaking hands and cold sweat if she came too close, as Murphy sat next to Dads on his bed while Detective Larson, perched in Dads’ chair, inspected his arm.

  “These seem very shallow,” Murphy remarked.

  “They are. We got very lucky,” Lou said and knew that she had to come closer. She left the safety of the door. “I don’t know whether he would have survived if they were any deeper. He doesn’t have a good heart and the healing process…I don’t know. The kind of stress he was under has set his mind back a lot. He’s barely lucid anymore.”

  “Why didn’t you report it?” Larson asked as she took a seat across the table from him.

  “As you said, they were shallow and I’ve watched him like a hawk. I took care of it. He didn’t need stitches—“

  “But this qualifies as senior abuse—“ Murphy interrupted her.

  Lou froze. “I didn’t— I don’t abuse my father. How could you say—?”

  “We aren’t accusing you but this is serious,” Larson said and let go of his arm. Under his scrutiny, Lou jumped out of her chair and kneeled in fr
ont of Dads.

  “Aren’t you? Dads, tell them how well I take care of you,” Lou asked him. Dads nodded and his blank, blue eyes rested on Murphy.

  “My life is in her hands,” he said.

  Lou twisted around to look at the both of them. “I would never do anything to endanger him.”

  “We’ll need to contact human services—“ Larson began.

  “Why?”

  “He’s in danger here,” Murphy added in soft voice.

  “It wasn’t me. I didn’t do this to him and have been trying to find out who did.” Lou directed her pleas to Detective Murphy.

  “I’ll explain the circumstances to them but if someone hurt Dads, that someone could also be abusing others,” Murphy said and gave Lou a questioning look.

  “I’m here twenty-four hours a day. If other patients were getting abused, I would know about it and I would have raised a red flag,” Lou said and got back to her feet, giving Dads a squeeze on his knee in reassurance.

  “You didn’t raise any sort of flag when your patients started to die,” Larson pointed out. Lou’s heart dropped.

  “That wasn’t my call. It was Diane’s,” she said. “I have nothing to hide, and I didn’t do this to Dads. You won’t find any elder abuse, not on my watch. I do rounds every day checking in with my patients. I would have reported any signs immediately.”

  “Like you did with Dads?” Larson asked.

  “What was I supposed to say? A ghost did it?” Lou shot back.

  The detectives got to their feet. “Thank you for speaking with us, Dads,” Murphy said and gave him a smile. She turned to Lou.

  “You really believe that? About the ghost?” Murphy asked, her tone serious. Her partner suppressed a laugh, but Detective Murphy shook her head at him to stop.

  “I don’t know what to believe anymore. When I left him, he was fine. They hooked up the cameras in the hallway and turned them on within half an hour of arriving here. I have video of the entire time between then until I found him. No one came into this room. What other explanation is there?” Lou said and sat back down next to Dads.

  “There is still a half hour unaccounted for,” Larson said.

  “The cuts were too fresh. They would have scabbed over if it had happened in that time frame,” Lou explained.

  “Don’t leave town. We’re going to need to speak with you again,” Larson said without acknowledging her logical answer.

  “This is my home. I’m not going anywhere,” Lou said and stuck her chin up. The door clicked closed behind them, and Lou put her arm around Dads, resting her head on his shoulder.

  “Can you believe any of this, Dads?” she asked. He turned his eyes back to the window and the Hollywood sign without saying a word.

  The Sunshine community cafeteria hadn’t been this hot in years, thought Doreen Stevens. No one had retired back to their rooms after dinner and instead had stayed to talk about the latest developments. Doreen loved being in the spotlight and had the full attention of her table. Ginny, Barney, Mary Ann, and even old Martin hung on her every word. She might have embellished the story a bit but when was she going to get another opportunity like this?

  “She almost broke down my door. She’s so strong,” Doreen whispered for effect. Ginny shuddered at that and Doreen couldn’t help but smile. She was such a gifted storyteller.

  “Did you let her in?” Ginny asked.

  “Are you kidding?” Doreen exclaimed and shook her head. She lowered her voice to make them all lean in to hear her. “I don’t want to be her next victim.”

  “Do you really think it is her?” Ginny asked.

  “Of course it’s her,” Barney cut in. Doreen scowled at him. He was always interrupting her flow. Just because he was the first one to make the connection between Lou and all the deaths didn’t mean he always had to lead the conversation, she thought.

  A hush fell over the entire cafeteria and Doreen glanced over to the door to see what everyone was staring at. Lou Fairbanks stood on the threshold scanning the room until her eyes stopped at their table. She walked to them with a scowl on her face.

  “Why didn’t any of you mention the ghost to the police?” Lou demanded the moment she was close enough for them to hear her. Doreen looked around the table and saw everyone avoiding Lou but Barney who glared right back at her in defiance.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. What ghost?” he asked. Doreen’s head snapped up. This was going to be interesting.

  “Last night never happened? You’re all going to deny it?” Lou was almost yelling. Doreen averted her eyes and said nothing. She noticed everyone doing the same thing except for Barney who leaned back in his chair, not a care in the world. The entire cafeteria waited with bated breath at what would happen next.

  “We should do a movie tonight,” Barney said to Mary Ann as she lifted her eyes to his. Annoyance shot through Doreen at his grandstanding. He’d made her lose her spotlight, and she wouldn’t get it back.

  “All about Eve. Let’s all watch that,” Martin piped up. It was the first thing he’d said the whole evening. Doreen checked in with all the others. They were all following Barney’s lead and ignoring Lou.

  Ginny just kept nodding and staring into space. The woman looked as though she was about to pee in her pants from fright. Doreen rolled her eyes at the thought. What a drama queen.

  “Why would you lie about something like that? You were the one that started all this Barney. You called her in. You did all this,” she shouted, jabbing a finger at him. “Was this all to make me look bad?” Lou said in a much softer tone. The entire place was staring at Lou in shock. Lou blushed and raced out of the room, slamming the door behind her. The room erupted in sound.

  “It’s only a matter of time now,” Barney said. “She’s cracking.”

  “But doesn’t that mean another murder? Isn’t that what murderers do? They kill when they get backed into a corner?” Mary Ann asked. That sounded more than plausible to Doreen who nodded in agreement.

  “We’ve pushed her to the edge, so now what? You don’t think she’s going to just turn herself in, do you?” Doreen said, calculating how much time she had left in the day to call in a locksmith.

  “She’s right. Lou’s going to come after us now, isn’t she?” Mary Ann said with rising hysteria.

  “We all have good locks on our doors. No way she’s getting in. Why would she attempt anything when the police are here? This is what we wanted. Movement. Police listening to us. They’ll catch her. No one can keep committing the perfect crime. She must have made mistakes. They’ll find them,” Barney added.

  Doreen had enough run-ins with the police to not hold them in such high esteem. She’d been a flower child in the sixties, and she saw how incompetent the cops were then. They were just brutes and she’d never met a smart one yet.

  “You’re putting a lot of faith in the police,” Doreen said but everyone’s attention was still on Barney. She looked around the room and wondered who would fall dead next.

  Simon held the hand of Herr Sigmund Schreiber, his new vater, and watched as a naked, very skinny woman was wheeled into the doctor’s room. He had never seen a naked woman before and made sure to keep his eyes averted, as his real mama wouldn’t want him to look.

  Today was the first time Simon had come to work with his new father. His new mother said it would be good for him to see his papa work and Herr Schreiber agreed. Simon, however, was worried it was another test.

  Herr Schrieber wanted Simon to call him Papa and Simon made sure to do so. But, he would never forget his real mama and papa and called his neue Familie by Herr und Frau Schreiber when he thought about them.

  “So nice you could join us today, Männchen Simon Schreiber.”

  “Guten Morgen, Doktor Clauberg,” Herr Schrieber said and pushed Simon in front of him. Simon nodded and shook the hand Doktor Clauberg offered him. He turned back to his patient. One of his helpers handed him a large syringe filled with a pale yellow li
quid. Simon had never seen a needle that big.

  “Papa, what is Doktor Clauberg going to do?” Simon whispered not taking his eyes off the giant needle.

  “We have to make sure they can’t make babies anymore, son. It’s called sterilization,” Herr Schrieber said. Simon’s eyes grew wide as they met the terrified woman’s.

  Johan Luken drove east down Santa Monica Boulevard with Sara ensconced in the passenger seat. He helped get her discharged from the hospital against his better judgment, and she made him doubt his decision more when she refused to go home. She argued that she had enough energy to face the ghost and that they should do it as soon as possible. Johan had a hard time saying no to her and found himself driving back to the Bockerman. He focused on the road ahead of him.

  The mauve light of Los Angeles’ magic hour, unique to this spread out metropolis, washed over the grime of bodegas and one dollar stores on this seedier drag of Santa Monica Boulevard. The light snuck into their car and made Sara’s translucent skin glow. He’d never seen her more beautiful or more fragile. She looked as if she’d break apart at any moment. She turned to him and smiled, and the look on her face did something funny to him.

  “It’s so beautiful, isn’t it? The hills look almost purple in this light,” she said.

  “It’s my favorite time,” Johan agreed.

  “Hmmm.” She turned back to stare out the window. His thoughts returned to the case and his worry about what they had gotten themselves into. His gut was telling him to turn the car around and drive both of them home.

  “This is a mistake, Sara. You know it is.” He kept his eyes on the road, but checked his peripheral vision to see her reaction. She kept looking out the window.

  “I see that poor woman every time I close my eyes, Johan. I need to understand what happened to her,” she said.