The Children's Ward

by Patricia Wallace

  All she needed was a chance to get out without anyone seeing her. Tessi was still sleeping and Abigail had been staring out of the window, as usual. Russell…he wouldn’t stop her.

  All she needed was a chance.

  Ninety-six

  Quinn walked with the nursing supervisor toward medical records. The hospital was usually quiet in the early mornings, but on an early Sunday morning it was like a ghost town. Their footsteps echoed in the empty hallway.

  “Here we go,” the nursing supervisor said, unlocking the door and holding it open. “Don’t forget to turn off the lights and lock up when you leave.”

  “Thank you,” Quinn said, turning her attention to locating Ian’s report.

  The transcription section of medical records was off to one side, the typewriters in soundproofed cubicles barely four feet by six feet wide. In each cubicle was an out basket of completed work and it was through these baskets that Quinn began to search.

  She sat down in the first cubicle and gathered all of the typed reports, flipping through them quickly. Nothing.

  She moved on. In the third basket she found reports on Russell and Tessi, but not the report on Courtney. She pulled both reports, setting them aside, and went into the fourth cubicle.

  There it was. Courtney White, psychiatric consultation.

  She took all three reports and sat down to read.

  The dreams that Courtney had described to Ian Campbell were more detailed accounts of the incidents Tiffany had reported.

  And it appeared that there was a possibility that Courtney was dreaming about the incidents at the moment each occurred. In fact…Quinn looked up from the report. Tiffany’s comment about the car having suddenly stopped when it had been moving so fast was the point at which Courtney said her dream was interrupted when she was awakened for her appointment with Ian.

  What did it mean?

  Quinn read through the remainder of the report but found no clues. Ian, of course, hadn’t known about the reality of either “dream.” She wondered what he would think if he knew.

  Precognitive dream?

  Except that the termination of the accident was precipitated, apparently, when Courtney was roused.

  A car, spinning out of control, does not suddenly lose its momentum. Tiffany had said that she thought it might roll over; it was not, then, in the process of slowing down immediately prior to when it stopped.

  So the force behind it…

  The force behind it was Courtney’s dream?

  It was too fantastic, yet…

  She needed to talk to Ian.

  Folding the reports, she tucked them into her lab coat pocket and, as requested, turned off the lights and locked the door, her mind all the while thinking of things too fantastic to believe.

  She had Ian’s home phone number in her office and she headed in that direction. The halls were still empty and it was almost nine o’clock.

  She was getting very tired of hearing phones ring with no answer. She hung up, trying to decide whether she should call Joshua instead.

  Maybe Ian had his pager with him.

  She dialed the hospital operator. “Could you beep Dr. Ian Campbell for me?”

  “Dr. Campbell…one moment, please.”

  She waited, hearing a series of clicks and then a pulsing sound as she was put on hold.

  “Dr. Campbell isn’t answering,” the operator reported.

  “Do you have him checked out to a number other than his residence?”

  “Dr. Campbell hasn’t checked out at all.”

  “You mean since yesterday?”

  “That’s what my doctor status sheet says…he never checked out. And—” Quinn heard papers rustling, “—security reported his car was in the lot all night.”

  “That’s odd.”

  “Maybe he’s asleep in his office,” the operator suggested.

  “Maybe. Thank you.”

  She stared at the phone for a long while before picking it up to dial.

  No one was answering in Ian’s office.

  “Damn it,” she said.

  Where was Ian?

  What was happening to Courtney?

  For a second time she followed the nursing supervisor to a locked door and waited as a key was inserted.

  But this time, before the door even opened, she knew what she would find.

  Nothing.

  Ian had not checked out last night, his car was still in the parking lot, and he was nowhere to be found.

  Ninety-seven

  James Wolf pulled away from the gas station, watching in his rearview mirror to see if the attendant was going toward the telephone.

  The man had looked peculiar, his eyes darting back and forth, and he had fidgeted, as if he were nervous about something. And, although it had been a cash sale, James had noticed the man taking a look at the license plate on the truck.

  Maybe someone had happened upon Alicia.

  They could be looking for him already.

  But the attendant just stood there as James drove away, and it was possible the man was just naturally nervous.

  He had driven through the night, stopping only for an hour-long rest after he’d passed through Kingman, Arizona. He was getting close now.

  Funny how the closer he got to Spring Valley and Tessi, the more anxious he got. And it wasn’t over getting caught, although he felt that too. It was like something bad was going to happen.

  It was a disquieting notion that he tried not to dwell on, thinking instead of how he was going to get Tessi out of the hospital without a fuss.

  He had to have a plan.

  He knew enough about hospitals to know that, even as a parent with joint legal custody, to get her out would take a doctor’s consent.

  But it was Sunday and he doubted if either of her doctors would be at the hospital. He did not want to sit around waiting while the nurse tried to reach one of them but what choice did he…

  Something Maria had told him about her father.

  Maria’s father had suffered a mild heart attack and had been hospitalized for…a week? When the doctors wouldn’t listen to his requests to go home, he had signed a paper stating that he would not hold them responsible if he were to drop dead as he walked out the door, and that the doctors had explained to him why he should not walk out the door.

  Against medical advice. AMA, Maria had called it.

  It was something to consider.

  But if Tessi were really ill, since she was a minor, he half-thought that the doctors could get a court order to keep her in no matter what he signed. And that—the attention of the courts and the police who would enforce its orders—he did not want.

  That was also something to consider.

  Would the doctors, if they wanted to stop him, be able to get a hold of a judge on a Sunday? If they could not, were there other steps they could take?

  What else?

  He’d heard of patients getting a kind of furlough to leave the hospital for short periods of time, like on holidays. Maybe he could arrange for something like that on some pretense or another. Then they just wouldn’t come back.

  That sounded good, but what reason could he give for taking her out? Christmas was still more than a week away. Shopping for Christmas?

  Would they let her out for that?

  He had no way of knowing, but once he was committed to that request, if they turned him down, he had no options. If, after being turned down, he tried to sign her out AMA, they’d think he was going off the deep end.

  There was another possibility.

  That he could somehow get Tessi out past the nurse without the nurse knowing. Just take his daughter and leave without forms, without excuses, without lies…

  Could it be done?

  The only doors into the ward were through the nurse’s station. And the nurse was almost always at the desk or in the ward.

  But once…he had come out to ask the nurse a question and she was in the bathroom. Could he be lucky enough to catch
an opportunity like that? He didn’t know.

  All he knew was that he had to get Tessi out, and soon.

  Ninety-eight

  Her own phone was ringing when Quinn got back to her office.

  “Hello?”

  “Dr. Logan, I’m glad I found you. This is Mary Aguilar.”

  “Mary! What a surprise…I thought you were on vacation.”

  “I am, but do you remember that dream I was telling you about?”

  “The one about Abigail and Russell in the ward? Of course.”

  “Well, I feel a little foolish about this, but you told me to call you if I ever heard what they were saying in the dream.”

  “And you heard?”

  “Yes. Last night.”

  Quinn sat down on the edge of her desk. “And it disturbed you enough that—”

  “Yes. I had to call you…it was terrible.”

  “What were they saying.”

  “It was just Russell…Abigail never spoke, she just…laughed. But he said, or rather thought, but I heard him anyway…let me read it to you, I wrote it down. He said ‘Why did you kill them, Abigail, why did you do it?’ “ There was a hint of a quiver in Mary’s voice.

  “ ‘Why did you kill them?’ He said them?”

  “Those were his exact words…in the dream.” Mary hesitated. “But it was just a dream, Dr. Logan.”

  “I’m learning to respect dreams,” Quinn said flatly. “Tell me again about the images in the dream.”

  She listened while Mary described the tiny flames and the smoke, ending with Russell’s questioning accusation and Abigail’s laugh.

  “And Courtney’s not there?” she asked after Mary had finished.

  “No. Neither Courtney nor Tessi are there. It’s just Abigail and Russell.”

  “That’s odd.” Quinn didn’t know what to make of any of this, but since one of Courtney’s dreams related to fire as well, she felt there might be some sort of connection. “Well, thank you for calling, Mary.”

  “I hope I’m not keeping you from anything with this…this…but I wanted to tell someone.”

  Quinn knew the feeling.

  Her phone rang a second time as soon as she hung up.

  “Dr. Logan, this is Sally in the children’s ward.”

  Sally was Mary’s vacation replacement. “Yes, Sally.”

  “Uh…Courtney White is missing.”

  Quinn closed her eyes, unbelieving. “What?”

  “Courtney White is not in the ward. I’ve looked all over for her and she’s nowhere to be found.”

  “Did you look around outside?”

  “No…I didn’t want to leave the desk unattended.”

  “Shit,” Quinn said.

  “Pardon?”

  “Nothing. Listen, I just found out from her mother this morning that her parents are separated…apparently it’s a very recent thing. Has Mr. White been by? He might have—”

  “No one’s been by,” Sally interrupted. “Visiting hours don’t start for three hours.”

  “Well, try to call her parents…”

  “I already did. There’s no answer at the residence.”

  “Okay, let me give you the number where her mother is staying, and call her. Have her come and meet me in the lobby as soon as possible. I’ll get security to look around the grounds.”

  “If you want, I can take a look around outside…won’t take but a minute…if you think it’s all right to leave the desk.”

  “Yes, go ahead.” She hung up the phone.

  She’d better call Joshua.

  There was no answer at Joshua’s home.

  Ninety-nine

  Quinn thought Tiffany White looked remarkably composed under the circumstances until she saw the woman’s eyes.

  “Have they found her?” Tiffany asked.

  “Not yet. Security is combing the hospital grounds; if she’s still here, they’ll find her.”

  “What do you mean, if she’s still here? Where else would she be?”

  “I hope you can appreciate that I’m only asking you this because Courtney’s well-being is at stake. Is it possible that your husband would have come and taken her away?”

  “Taken her…why would he do that?”

  “Some men abduct their own children to get back at their wives.” She said it apologetically, not wanting to imply that any action of Tiffany’s had precipitated this crisis.

  “David doesn’t care that much about Courtney.”

  “Yes, but could he be angry enough at you to do such a thing?”

  “I…don’t know. I don’t know whether he’s angry or not. I haven’t talked to him since I left.”

  “Was he mad when you left?”

  Tiffany shook her head. “I don’t know…I wrote him a note. I wanted to avoid a scene. But I don’t know that there would have been a scene.” She hesitated. “We haven’t been close for a long time.”

  “You say you haven’t heard from him…did he know where you were going? Where you’re staying?”

  “No. But he could have found out, if he wanted. I mean, there aren’t that many places to stay in this town, and my car…he’d see my car if he drove around looking.”

  “Has he been in to see Courtney since then?”

  “Not that I know of. She didn’t say…I didn’t want to ask.”

  “Well, the nurse said she tried to call your home and there was no answer.”

  “That’s possible. On a Saturday night, with me out of his hair, he could either stay out all night or maybe he’s home sleeping it off.”

  “Then Courtney might be home…”

  “She doesn’t have a key.”

  Quinn thought for a moment. “I think we’d better call the police to check out your home.”

  “No…I’ll go there myself. I can get there >before they could.”

  “But if you ran into your husband…I’d better go with you.”

  Tiffany pulled slowly into the driveway. “David’s car is here,” she said. “So he’s either drunk or…my God, there’s Courtney!”

  Courtney White was standing on the front porch, beating at the door with both hands.

  Tiffany stopped the car and they both ran to the front porch.

  Courtney’s hands were bleeding and she was sobbing. When she saw her mother, she ran into her arms.

  “Courtney, what’s happened to you?” The child was dirty, her clothes damp with perspiration and spotted with blood.

  Quinn took one of Courtney’s hands and looked at the blood-smeared door.

  “Daddy, Daddy,” Courtney cried. “Something’s happened to Daddy.”

  “Now, now,” Tiffany soothed, looking at Quinn.

  “I’ve been pounding on the door, and pounding…” Courtney glanced down at her hands, as if seeing them for the first time. “I’ve been calling him, but he can’t come, ‘cause something’s happened to him.”

  “Oh baby,” Tiffany’s voice broke. “Maybe he’s sleeping.”

  “No…I heard it in my dream. I heard the gunshot.”

  Quinn frowned. “Do you have a key?” she asked Tiffany.

  Tiffany shook her head.

  “Then I think we’d better go to a neighbor’s and call the police.” She looked back at the door.

  One Hundred

  The gods were with him.

  He had been across from the children’s ward, trying to get up his nerve, when the nurse came out and disappeared around the side of the building.

  He did not know what she was doing, but he knew he didn’t have time to worry about it. He had to act.

  He was in the building in an instant.

  Tessi was sitting up in bed, stroking her toy animals while she watched TV. There was a curtain drawn around the fourth bed…the boy, and the third bed was empty. In the first bed, the little girl with brown braids looked at him.

  He did not speak.

  He crossed the room and grabbed Tessi to him. “Come on, baby, we’ve got to go,” he whispered in her e
ar.

  “I knew you’d come, Daddy, I knew you’d come.” Her arms tightened around his neck.

  Then he turned and ran, back through the double doors and, taking a deep breath, out of the building.

  The nurse was not in sight.

  He had seen the security guards but they had worked their way past the ward and were looking in the other direction. He had a path.

  He took it.

  The truck was parked down the road a bit and he ran, breathing easily. It was like second nature to him, running with his child. She was quiet, as if she knew not to attract attention.

  Then they were in the truck.

  “Lie down on the seat,” he told her.

  He pulled away, careful not to catch his tires in the sodden ground by accelerating too fast.

  He did not look down at Tessi until they were on the highway, heading west until they could catch a route south into Mexico.

  Tessi was watching him, her eyes filled with tears.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “We’re going to be together.”

  “Daddy, I was so scared…but I knew you were coming.” She nodded solemnly. “I knew it.”

  “How did you know?” He smiled and smoothed her hair, looking back at the road which now stretched to freedom before him.

  “I dreamed it,” she said.

  One Hundred One

  It was twelve-thirty by the time Quinn returned to the hospital.

  The police had forced the door to the White residence and their search had located David White. She had examined him quickly to determine if there was anything that could be done for him—there was not—and then had turned her attentions to Tiffany and Courtney.

  Her suggestion that Courtney return to the hospital was met with near-hysteria by both mother and child. Not wanting to traumatize either of them further, she had agreed that Courtney could spend the night, at least, with her mother at the motel. Quinn had dressed the child’s torn hands.

  But something that Courtney had said still

  bothered Quinn.

  She had said that she hadn’t told, but Abigail knew. She repeated the statement over and over.