Ming was taken aback by the obvious hostility in the woman’s narrowed gaze. “Yes, ma’am. I am.” She glanced at Hines again, the addressed Josephine. “I would’ve come up sooner had I known you were here. Do you mind answering a few questions?”
“Do I have a choice?”
The response further confused Ming. Here was a woman whose sister had either wandered off or been taken from the institution, and she was acting like answering question was going to interfere with a manicure appointment. “It shouldn’t take long,” Ming said. Josephine’s gaze meticulously swept over Ming. “Okay. Shoot,” she said, holding her ground. “Mr. Hines,” Ming said, but didn’t pull her faze away from Josephine, “may we borrow your office for a few minutes?” “By all means.” He joined them at the door. “Please take all the time that you need.”
Ming read relief in the administrator’s expression and stepped aside before the man actually bowled her over, trying to get out. She smiled and moved farther into the room. “Would you like to have a seat?”
Josephine waited until Ming closed the door before she turned and walked to a vacant chair in front of the large mahogany desk.
Intrigue and confusion twisted inside of Ming as she took her time to move over to the desk. When she settled behind it, she reached inside leather jacket and pulled out her notepad.
“Had I known Michelle had a sister, I would’ve contacted you sooner,” she said, wondering why she didn’t have this piece of information. “Not many people know.” “Ming frowned. “Why is that?” Josephine paused as if to weigh her words. “Until a year ago, Michelle and I didn’t know the other existed.” The response generated only a mild surprise from Ming. “So you don’t know your sister that well?” “Not as well as I would like to.”
“In this past year, how much time did you spend with her? Do you know her friends, boyfriends, or anyone who might want to cause her harm?”
“Can’t say that I do.” Josephine opened her handbag and withdrew a pack of cigarettes. “Do you mind if I smoke?”
“Not at all.” Ming spotted an ashtray and pushed it toward her. “Does the name Daniel Thornton mean anything to you?”
Josephine lit her cigarette. She took her time as she drew a deep drag and blew out a long stream of smoke. “Never heard of him.” “He was Michelle’s boyfriend.” Ming studied her. “Really?” Ming nodded. “At least according to Thornton’s friends.” Josephine shrugged while boredom glazed her eyes.
“Daniel Thornton was a slippery felon—at least that’s how we viewed him down at the department.” She waited, but when she received no response from Josephine, she continued. “He was murdered about six weeks ago. He was found dead under a tree in Grant Park.”
“Sounds like he was in a dangerous profession.”
Ming gave her a sardonic smile. “True. But despite the bullet in his chest, the autopsy report states that he drowned. Strange, wouldn’t you say?”
Josephine blew out another stream of smoke. “I suppose, but I fail to see what any of this has to do with me or my sister.”
“Your sister is missing, and a dead doctor was found in the parking lot. Michelle might know something about Thornton’s death. My notes say that Michelle attempted suicide the day after Thornton’s body was found. It’s possible whoever killed your sister’s boyfriend is responsible for killing a doctor here and kidnapping Michelle.”
Josephine laughed. It wasn’t a light, amused sort of thing, but a head-back hearty cackle that further shocked Ming.
“You know what I think?” Josephine leaned forward and snubbed out her cigarette. “I think you and Mr. Hines are on a great fishing expedition, and you’re bound and determined to snare Michelle in this whole fiasco.”
“Ms. Ferrell…”
“Let me finish,” she snapped, rising from her chair. “This institution lost my sister. Most likely, Michelle stole someone’s badge and walked out of here. I have no idea who or why someone killed a doctor here—maybe it was a random act of violence, maybe the doctor was into something shady. I don’t know, and I doubt that you know either because you’re too busy trying to place the blame on my sister.” “I’m not blaming Ms. Andrews for anything.” “Could have fooled me.” She headed toward the door. “Sorry I couldn’t be any more help, but I have a sister to find.” Ming sat back as she watched the angry woman storm out of the room. “Wow. What a bitch.”
Chapter 7
William made himself a pot of coffee after languishing in the sweet, love-filled memories of Paris. Despite so many years of trying to forget, it astounded him how clearly those images came back to him. The sights, the smells, and the sounds stirred up a lot of painful memories. Yet he knew if he had the chance to go back, he would in a heartbeat.
During the three months he spent in Paris, he’d hardly left Josie’s side. He didn’t know exactly when she fell in love with him, bit he was pretty much smitten that first night.
He smiled to himself as he reached for the powdered creamer from one of the cupboards. Just as quickly, his mood shifted. He wasn’t out of the woods yet. There was still a high chance for his colleague, Dr. Bancroft, to finger him as a possible suspect in Michelle Andrew’s disappearance.
William took the first sip of his coffee as he reviewed his last visit to Meredith’s office...
“I’m telling you I know this girl,” William insisted, as he closed the door to Meredith’s office.
Meredith settled behind her polished mahogany desk and looked at him with her kind, chocolate-colored eyes. “Maybe you do, Dr. Hayes, but it doesn’t change the face that Ms. Andrews is a very sick woman.”
William shook his head while he paced in front of her. “That’s just it. Her name isn’t Andrews.”
“According to her chart it is.” Meredith crossed her arms. “She has a long history of mental illness and has been in and out of trouble with the law for most of her life. It started odd with petty thief and cruelty to animals. Before long she was a full-fledged menace to society. By fifteen her adoptive mother had had enough and kicked her out onto the streets.” He shook his head and rejected everything Meredith said. “It’s a lie. The woman I met…” “Isn’t it possible that this woman just simply looks like the person you’re referring to? I’m told that she has a sister…” “I’m not wrong about this.” William slammed his hands down on her desk. Meredith blinked and calmly stared up at him. “I don’t know what this is all about, Dr. Hayes, but this conversation is over.” He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that.” She didn’t respond.
He drew himself upright and took another calming breath before he started again. “Can we at least lower her medication so that she’s not so sedated? I’m sure that she’ll be able to tell us who she is.” “I already know who she is,” William’s temper threatened to explode again. “Dr. Hayes, did you happen to notice the slashes across Ms. Andrew’s wrists?” The question deflated his anger.
“No? I did. There were slashed pretty badly by Ms. Andrews herself. Do you want to know who else wants to talk to Ms. Andrews?”
William now lowered his weight into the vacant chair across from Meredith’s desk as her words punched him hard.
“The police,” she answered for him. “She’s a suspect in her boyfriend’s homicide.” Meredith stood, then walked around to the front of her desk and leaned against it. “Do you see why I won’t let you go in there and talk to her?”
“No,” William said truthfully. “This is a case of mistaken identity.”
“On your part, yes.” Meredith crossed her arms. “If you go in there filling her head that she’s someone else, trust me, she’d going to agree with you. She’s going to tell you whatever you want to hear so she can get out off this place.”
“That’s not true.”
“Sure it is,” Meredith said. “Andrews is the smoothest liar you’ll ever meet. She’s not only a danger to herself, but to those around her as well.”
&
nbsp; “And all of this is in her chart?”
“Most of it. The rest is from personal experience.” Meredith nodded. “This is not the first time Andrews has been here at Keystone. I’ve treated her before.”
The phone rang, and William returned to the present. He sloshed coffee over the rim of his cup and burned his hand. “Christ!” Clumsily, he sat that cup back on the counter and waved his hand around as he made his way over to the phone. “Hello.” “Ah, Dr. Hayes. You’re there.” Ecaterina’s thick Romanian accent came over the line. “Good morning, Cat,” he said. “You got my message.” “Yes. I would’ve called back sooner, but Nicolae and I had a few errands to run this morning.” William chuckled. “No need to explain. I understand.” “I just don’t understand why you need me to go all the way out to Pine Mountain.”
“I’m taking care of, uh, one of Sheila’s cousins.” William rubbed at his temples as he recited the lie he’d practiced. “She’s pretty out of it, so she shouldn’t be too much trouble.”
“You’re such a good brother-in-law,” Cat praised. “Taking care of Larry’s extended family like this.”
William’s guilt multiplied. His behavior in the past twenty-four hours was akin to an out of body experience. Kidnapping, lying…what would come next?”
“I’ll be happy to come out there Monday and so what I can,” she said cheerfully. “Anything for you, Dr. Hayes.”
William thanked her and hurried off the phone. A headache immediately bloomed in William’s temples. He reviewed his plan to leave Josie with his trusted housekeeper. The risk was high, but it was also a necessity.
He was already scheduled off for the weekend, but if he took any more time off from the Institute right on the heels of a disappearance, surely he’d raise more than a few eyebrows. Speaking of which, he thought, grabbing his cup again, he should see if anything was on the news.
He strode into the living room and clicked on the television. On channel 2, news anchor Warren Savage stared back at him. Keystone’s emblem and digital graphic of a white chalked-body projected from the corner of the screen.
“Police were called to Keystone Mental Institute early this morning when a prominent doctor at the facility this morning was found dead in the trunk of her car. Minutes later, the institute discovered a patient was missing. Authorities are trying to piece together whether the two incidents are connected. The name of the doctor as well as the missing patient has yet to be released at this time.”
William pressed the mute button on the remote. Dead? Found in the trunk of a car? Murdered? He stared at the reported for a few frantic heartbeats before bolting to the kitchen to retrieve the phone. Upon picking up the receiver, he quickly hung up. Who was he going to call, and what was he going to say?
“The truth,” he thought. He would say he saw everything on the news. He nodded, telling himself it sounded good, and grabbed the phone again.
While he waited for the line to connect, the words to his prepared speech jumbled inside his head. On the fifth ring, the line was transferred to Marcus Hines’s voicemail.
William hung up without leaving a message.
But his mind raced over the previous night’s events, and he couldn’t stop obsessing over what the hell had happened and who was murdered. Slowly the rest of the reporter’s words sank in: “...authorities are trying to piece together whether the two incidents are connected.”
“If I’m caught, they’re going to think I’m a murderer.”
Chapter 8
To help combat Josie’s withdrawal symptoms, William decided to administer methadone injections twice a day. The drug was a narcotic pain reliever, similar to morphine. It was commonly used for drug addiction detoxification and maintenance programs.
For most of Saturday, William helped his patient through fits of delirium, heavy sweating, vomiting, and manic outburst. He found all of these to be good signs.
The day flew by, and, as night descended, William was exhausted. When Josie fell into a deep slumber, he could no longer ignore his own needs. First thing being first, he sated his hunger with a large bowl of pasta and a bottle of Heineken.
Outside, he heard the rain return and pound the windows and roof as though it had a vicious vendetta against the house.
William moved into the living room and settled into an armchair juxtaposed to a plaid soda and in front of the television. He should check the news again, he rationalized, he had no idea what he would do if the news broadcast his picture as the latest member on the most wanted list.
He punched the power button on the remote control, and the screen came alive with snowy static. William grunted and scanned the other channels. They all showed the same thing.
Great. The cable was out. He stood up from the chair and crossed over to the television. He checked the cable box and the other cords and connections. Everything appeared to be fine. A power line must be down, he concluded. A brilliant flash of lightning illuminated the wall of windows and the house lights flickered as a mild threat. He huffed out a tired breath and went in search of gas lamps, flashlights, and candles.
He lit the fireplace in the living room and master bedroom. From the upstairs linen closet, he gathered extra blankets and comforters. When he put everything in place, there was a mighty thunderclap overhead, and the lights went out.
He returned to Josie’s bedside and changed her IV bag, mopped the sweat from her fevered brow, then settled back into the chair across from the bed and watched her.
His thoughts wrestled with how she came to be admitted to a psychiatric ward under a false name. Could it truly be a case of mistaken identity? How likely was it that the hospital had gotten her mixed up with another patient?
Slim to none.
However, sixteen years was a long time. He’s lived another life since then and was sure that she had, too.
His gaze fell away from the bed and slid to the medical chart on the vanity table next to him. He picked up the chart and flipped through it once again. All the while, the square box refused to cram into the small triangle.
William set the chart aside. With everything he had attended to that day, he didn’t have much time to call Marcus Hines again. The cable was still out, and there was no way fro him to know who was murdered. Had the murder happened while he was on the premises? Did he leave any clues to his criminal actions?
Scientist say there was always clues, but he prayed that, in his case, it wasn’t true.
What if the woman was really Michelle Andrews?
He cleared his head of this train of thought. He had been over it numerous times before he concocted his plan to steal her away. He wasn’t mad, and he hadn’t taken the wrong woman.
An ear-piercing scream followed by a loud crash propelled William to his feet.
From the bed, Josie flailed about like a mad woman. Her jumbled words were incomprehensible, but it was clear that she no longer wanted the IV in her arm.
“No, no, Josie.” He rushed over to her and struggled to restrain her. At her surge of superhuman strength, William climbed onto the bed and pinned her hands down.
In response, Josie bucked, thrashed, and, as a last desperate attempt, sank her teeth into his arm.
He clenched his jaw shut. No matter what, he refused to release his hold on her, and after what seemed like an eternity, she gave up and drew away from his arm.
Seconds later, the fight left her body, and she fell limp beneath him.
Panting heavily, William held firm, suspicious of her abrupt surrender. Finally, as his adrenaline waned and Josie’s breathing became slow and even, he sighed with relief and released his grip. Immediately, Josie came up with a left hook that literally stunned him but didn’t knock him off of her. “Josie, stop. It’s me, William. I’m trying to help you.” She got another good blow across the high part of his left cheek before he was able to pin her back down. “No. No! Let me out,” she screamed. William’s heart raced while debated whether to give her a sedative. In the end, to do so would
be counterproductive. Josie’s threats diminished to low grumbles.
It was a long time before William relaxed. When he did, he was fairly confident that she was sound asleep. At least he prayed she was. He couldn’t take another blow to the head.
He climbed off her and exhaled in a long, tired breath. He definitely had his work cut out for him, and he expected more outbursts before daybreak.
After he checked Josie’s IV tube, he righted the stand and spotted an old porcelain basin across the room. He stood up from the bed and walked over to retrieve it.
Minutes later, he’d filled the basin with iced water and gathered a few towels. He settled back beside the bed and dipped a towel into the water, wrung it out, and pressed it against her face.
She sighed softly in her sleep as if it was the very thing she needed.
The first seventy-two hours of detox were usually the hardest. He would do all he could to help her through it, even if it included being her punching bag.
When he finished cooling her off, he put everything away and retuned to the armchair. The rain continued outside. Instead of drifting off to sleep, he heard a light plopping sound.
He eased out of the chair again and quickly found the spot in the room where there was a small leak in the ceiling.
He rushed back downstairs and found a bucket to set under the drip. After a quick look through the house, he found two other places where he had to set pots.
Once he was through, he returned to the room and settled back into the armchair. But before he was able to close his eyes, Josie started up again.
It was going to be a long night.
Chapter 9
First thing Sunday morning, the rain finally stopped, and William found himself on the roof of the house. As a man who loved working with his hands, he found repairing the roof almost therapeutic.
Once he was through, he checked on his patient before heading back out to chop firewood. With him returning to work the next day, he now worried about the atmosphere at Keystone. The electricity and cable were still out, so he had no idea what was being reported on the news. At one point, his curiosity led him to sit on the car for news snippet, but he heard nothing. Because of that, he shied away from calling other colleagues to puck their brains on what was going on.
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