The Haunted (Sarah Roberts 12) (9 page)

BOOK: The Haunted (Sarah Roberts 12)
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She laid her head back, stared up at the ceiling, and realized something. None of Vivian’s memories had come surfacing to haunt her since before the doctor’s appointment. What could that mean? Had Vivian retreated? Does she have that ability now that they were so close?

 

A noise at the door startled her. She popped her head up and looked.

 

A woman with a lock of white hair dangling to the side and wide, crazy eyes, peeked in at her. She had to be in her sixties, but all Sarah could see was her face and that hair.

 

“Yes?”

 

“You had better watch yourself,” the woman said, her voice sounding like a whiny creak of an old barn door. “There are people in here who talk.”

 

“That’s great. I talk too.”

 

“They talk about the fourth coming and the absolution.”

 

“The fourth coming? What happened to the second one? Or is it the third one I missed? Oh wait, that was a close encounter, wasn’t it? Yes, you’re right.” In a slightly raised voice, she said, “The fourth coming is upon us.”

 

“The burning comes in the night and we are offered sweet release. Until dawn’s early light, we awake and we believe.”

 

Sarah tried to take in what the woman was saying, tried to make sense of it, but couldn’t. “Is it morning?”

 

The woman raised her head, then lowered it in quick succession. It reminded Sarah of a bobble head on the dash of a car.

 

“We awake and we believe,” Sarah repeated the woman’s words. “And now you believe?”

 

“Because of you, I believe.”

 

Having no idea what the woman was talking about, Sarah nodded back. “Because of me.”

 

A door slammed from somewhere down the corridor.

 

“Helena!” a man yelled. “What are you doing?”

 

The white-haired woman snapped her head to the right, her features darkened, then she looked back at Sarah.

 

“There’s still time before the burning comes for you. End it, or it’ll end you. The fourth—”

 

“Get away from that door!”

 

Helena disappeared, her footsteps echoing softly until they faded.

 

The guard from earlier pushed a wheelchair inside and stopped at the door. “Sorry about that. She’s not supposed to leave her room.” He kicked something on the bottom of the chair and rolled it up beside the bed. “What were you two talking about?”

 

“Mostly nonsense.”

 

He moved to unstrap her left ankle. As the strap slipped free, he stepped back, out of reach if she decided to try to kick him.

 

As he stepped up beside her left wrist, he said, “Helena suffers from numerous mental maladies, but the one that angers me the most is her paruresis.”

 

“Which is?”

 

“She’s unable to urinate while someone is watching.”

 

“And you routinely watch her urinate?” Sarah asked.

 

“In the acute ward it is our job to assist most of the patients’ day-to-day functions. Some of the patients in here are too unhealthy, too mentally unsound to be left alone. Even to use the bathroom.”

 

He slowly unclipped the left wrist strap and then stopped.

 

“There. It’s loose enough that you can wiggle your way out.” He stepped over to the far corner of the room by the open door. The Taser was in his hand, up and aimed in her general direction. “Undo the other two restraints. Slip slowly off the bed and sit in the chair. Once you’re in the chair, strap in your ankles, then your right wrist. I will do your left one. Remember, the whole time I have a Taser on you. Getting Tased is not pleasant, but I’ll enjoy it. Start now.”

 

Sarah did as she was told and went to work on her other restraints. Within minutes, she was in the chair and waiting for him to strap her left wrist.

 

It was good to get out of the wet bed. The urine had been cooling on her, making her shiver. She needed a shower and food and then she would figure out where Cole was, deal with him and leave the building. Unless Dr. Williams came back, she would have to go after him with the police, but there was a part of her that was unsure how far that would go as he was a doctor and they could legally commit her for observation for seventy-two hours. Unless she could trace the money, or whatever it was that made him do it, she had nothing on Williams.

 

Fully secured to the chair, the burn victim guard pushed her out into the corridor, turned left and started down the hall.

 

“What time is it?” she asked.

 

“Almost dinner.”

 

“What? I thought it was breakfast. You even said breakfast.”

 

“No, I didn’t. I said dinner.”

 

“You said breakfast.”

 

“If I did, I meant it was your breakfast as you just woke up.”

 

“You said breakfast.”

 

Helena’s voice echoed in her head.
The burning comes in the night …

 

The burning?

 

Did she mean the man pushing her wheelchair? The
burned
man pushing the chair?

 

Sweet release?

 

Was she referring to the guard? Could he be molesting the patients here? In the acute ward where no one was sane enough to be listened to with any credibility?

 

Vivian’s essence brushed up against her consciousness. “I’m sorry, Sarah.”

 

The voice echoed in her head and made her jump at the intrusion.

 

“You okay?” the guard asked.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“The only way to access Cole and see for yourself the monster he has become was to get you inside this facility,” Vivian whispered.

 

“What?” Sarah said. “Really?”

 

The wheelchair slowed. They had just walked through a set of double doors. “Were you talking to me?” the guard asked.

 

Sarah lowered her head and shook it. “Mumbling to myself.”

 

“He’s too protected otherwise,” Vivian added.

 

Vivian! You got me committed to a mental institution to meet Cole?

 

“You don’t remember me, do you?” the guard asked. “It’s the new face, isn’t it?”

 

Another set of double doors brought them out to a set of communal showers.

 

“Fancy we should meet again,” he said. The wheelchair stopped. He moved away.

 

Sarah breathed through her nose, even and regular, her head still dipped down. When he released her for the shower, she would kill him and the burning would never come in the night ever again for any unwilling victim.

 

“I knew you were looking for me,” he said. “I watched from afar. Saw how busy you were keeping.” A shower head flicked on, the force strong. “I knew we’d meet again, Sarah. It was just a matter of time.”

 

He started back toward her.

 

“Being my prisoner has its benefits. I’ll take care of you just like I used to. I’ll even try to make you enjoy our time together. Then you will die in the fire that will ravage this building, along with all the other crazies.” He leaned down in front of her and looked up into her face. “I work the night shift. Just coming on duty, in fact. I requested everyone leave you for me to tend to. Tonight, we’ll be reunited. Won’t that be something?”

 

His burnt skin didn’t repulse her anymore. She wanted to grab it and tear it from his skull.

 

Her fingers clenched, then unclenched.

 

“You’re upset, possibly angry. It’s okay, little Sarah. I’ll make you feel better tonight.” He stood up and walked around behind the chair. Then he proceeded to push her under the gushing water. “Clean up, baby. Get all clean for daddy. Tonight, we party like it’s 1999.” He laughed, a deep rumbling chortle.

 

Silent fury, more than she had ever known, flowed through her veins, her core, her heart, and she knew in that moment that Cole Lincoln would die a violent death and his reign of terror and rape would come to a karmic end.

 

She didn’t suffer from any doubt on that count as the water obscured her vision of him.

 

“You will suffer, Cole Lincoln,” she said to herself under the torrent of water. “You will suffer.”

 

Chapter 14

Aaron leaned in and typed on the small keyboard of Kershaw’s laptop with Parkman standing over his shoulder.

 

 
Sarah’s iCloud account opened, and Aaron clicked on her inbox and opened the email reply from Rebecca. After rereading the opening lines from her, he scanned the rest of the email.

 

“Here, Parkman, take a look at this. Rebecca’s brother is a badass. How do guys like this get through the cracks? Because he was a cop? Doesn’t wash with me.”

 

“I know how you feel about cops, but some of them are good, too,” Parkman said.

 

“Not too many,” Kershaw added. “And I’m a cop. That has got to tell you something.”

 

After a moment, Parkman handed the computer to Kershaw. When they had read the email, Aaron signed out of Sarah’s account, turned the computer off and handed it back.

 

“Where’s the Amy Greg Psychiatric Hospital?” Aaron asked.

 

“About a twenty-minute drive from here. But we can’t just walk in and ask for Cole without cause.”

 

Parkman leaned on the roof of the cruiser and squinted into the afternoon sun, looking toward the building the authorities were still working in. “And how do we even know Sarah’s there?”

 

“Where else would she be?” Aaron asked. He smacked the hood of the cruiser. “We’ve got nothing else to go on. No leads, no tips. All we have is someone scoping her place out last night. Two guys watching us at the cemetery yesterday, a dead woman in Sarah’s car at this office she was supposed to meet a doctor in and still no sign of Sarah. She has to be at this Amy Greg place. Cole’s there.” In an exaggerated way, he shrugged and splayed his hands out to his side. “Makes sense to me. We should at least talk to Cole.”

 

“I agree,” Parkman said. “Doesn’t hurt to pull Cole aside, ask a couple innocent questions, see where he’s at with this.”

 

Kershaw scanned the men working the scene behind him. “There really is nothing else to go on.” He rubbed his chin and looked down at the ground. “Aaron, you think Sarah read that email from Rebecca?” He glanced sideways at Aaron.

 

“No, I don’t. I was the first one to read it.”

 

“Which still doesn’t work for me with the story of the attack.”

 

“Is that what’s important here? How the cabin fight played out?”

 

“When a woman goes missing, our person of interest is usually the husband, the boyfriend or the significant other in that person’s life. That means you. And your cabin story doesn’t add up.”

 

Aaron raised his hands in an
I surrender
gesture. “Okay, I’ll offer you a deal.” He lowered his hands. “I’m suspecting that Sarah is a person of interest in that woman’s death, since she was found in Sarah’s car.” He pointed at the Dodge Charger. “Let’s locate Sarah first, get her story, then I’ll tell you my story.”

 

“We find Sarah, I don’t need your story. Nullifies the point.”

 

“Then what are we waiting for?” Aaron said and dropped into the backseat of the cruiser.

 

When Parkman and Kershaw didn’t move, Aaron stuck his head out. “You guys coming?”

 

They got in the front seat. Kershaw started the car and pulled out of the lawyer’s office parking lot.

 

“The deal is,” Kershaw said. “We talk to Cole, then you tell me everything. Got it?”

 

Aaron looked out the side window without responding. The cruiser slowed.

 

“Or you can talk now. I’m easy either way.”

 

Aaron met Kershaw’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Amy Greg first.”

 

The car sped up.

 

Aaron let go of the tight fist he had been holding. Sarah’s life was at stake. A dead woman was found in her car. Something big was happening and Kershaw wanted to negotiate when statements would be recorded.

 

It was enough to hijack the cruiser and smash it into the Amy Greg building.

 

He’d get inside, one way or another.

 

With Sarah in trouble, nothing would stop him.

 

Nothing.

 

Chapter 15

Cole threw Sarah a towel. It hit her about the head, the ends whipping around until they rested on her shoulders.

 

“Dry yourself off.” Cole laughed as if he’d made a joke. “I’ll walk you back to your room where you will get dressed and join the rest of the crazies for dinner.”

 

Her hands secured to the arms of the wheelchair, Sarah shook and rocked her head until the towel slipped below her eyes.

 

“After a tasty mental hospital dinner,” Cole said. “I’ve got my last set of rounds to make. Then we’ll have a bit of fun before the fire.”

 

“The fire?”

 

He raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms, then tilted his head to the side. “You ask about the fire. Are you not concerned about the bit of fun part?”

 

Wet hair spilled over Sarah’s face. She pushed out her bottom lip and blew the wisp aside. “There will be no fun,” she said in a deep, cold voice. “The only fun that will be had will be mine.”

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