The Killer Trail (23 page)

Florence looked at Chris' manager before continuing. “David and I have to discuss this further, and if you incur criminal charges, I won't think twice about terminating your employment. In the meantime, I suggest you keep a very,
very
low profile and do not embarrass this institute any further. Is that clear?”

“It's clear.” Chris said in a defeated voice.

David suddenly spoke up to offer support for Chris. “Florence, we'll get this under control. The worst is over now. Mr. Owens will be leaving us, and the press has been portraying Chris in a very favourable light. I'm confident our communications department can put a positive spin on this story.”

“We had all better hope so.” Florence stood and walked out of the office, leaving Chris and David alone in awkward silence.

Chris took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. His heart rate slowly returned to normal. “Thank you, David. I appreciate what you did. I know you didn't have to, especially after what I've put you through lately.”

David took his time to respond. “I know you've been through a lot, and I could tell you were upset with Florence. But you have to realize she's just doing her job.” Chris wanted to interrupt him to explain his actions, but decided to hear David out. “In the end, we all report to somebody, and Florence is no exception. The media attention associated with Ray Owens and the Carrier case has placed intense pressure on Florence from the Ministry of Health.” He paused for an instant as if pondering the future. “But... well, hopefully this will soon pass.”

“I sure hope so.” But given what he knew about Charles Longville's association with the “murder at Woodland Park,” Chris was not optimistic things would be resolved anytime soon.

Exhausted, Chris left David's office. The thought of being hit with criminal charges
and
terminated employment weighed on his mind. How the hell was he going to be able to concentrate on his work with those twin swords hanging over him? He needed to hear a friendly voice. Stephanie came to mind. He dropped by her office, but she wasn't there, so he decided to try Dr. Stevenson, whom he was glad to find in her office. She was surprised but pleased to see him. “My gosh, you're all over the news. How
are
you?”

“Never better,” he said sarcastically. He filled her in on his meeting with Florence. “But other than that, hey, I'm living the dream!” He slumped in frustration. “I don't know what to say. My life sucks right now.”

“Sorry to hear that, Chris. The reality is, you saved that girl's life. That's remarkable. You're a hero. Everybody's been talking about you.” Chris was about to respond but paused.

Dr. Stevenson picked up on his hesitation. “You want to know about Ray, don't you?”

He smiled. “Was I that obvious?”

“I'm finished the assessment. I've indicated in my report that I have not observed any symptoms of acute mental illness with Ray. I recommend that he be found responsible for his criminal acts.”

Chris sighed. “I hear he'll be leaving IFP before his court date.”

She nodded. “The sheriffs will be picking him up tomorrow, a week earlier than his court date. Quite frankly, he's too destructive to remain here a minute longer, preying on patients who truly do belong here. He'll wait at the Pre-Trial Correctional Centre. We haven't told him about the early discharge for fear he'll do something dangerous on the unit. That is, something
else
dangerous.” Chris silently acknowledged her allusion to Ray's
alleged
assault on Paul Butler. “Our internal review is ongoing, and we haven't had any updates from the police about the assault on Paul.”

“The end result is that they'll say the evidence is inconclusive. And Ray will get away with it.” He was tired of Ray's games, but he was also running out of the energy he'd need to counter his moves.

“He's a loathsome man. That's the nicest way I can put it, Chris.”

He knew if he started to rant about Ray, he'd go on and on, so he decided to divert the conversation. “Any news on Paul Butler's condition?”

Marilyn brightened. “Oh yes. I left a message in your office, but obviously you haven't been back. Paul is doing much better. He was transferred back to us yesterday. He's on Beta unit.”

“That's the best news I've heard all morning. I'll drop by to check on him a little later.”

“I'm sure he'd like that. I've finished his assessment too. He returns to court next Tuesday. I'm recommending he be considered not criminally responsible on account of a mental disorder. And if the Court agrees and wraps up his case without any undue delays, he could be back with us by the end of next week.”

“Good,” said Chris, “If that's the case, his mother will likely request a teleconference to go over what happens next with treatment, the Review Board, and so on. I'll check with Paul, and if he's okay with it, I'll call his mother to set up a meeting.”

“Sounds good. And Chris, try not to worry about that other stuff. It will work itself out.”

“I keep hearing that. I hope so. Thanks.”

As he left Dr. Stevenson's office, Chris ran into colleagues who teased him good-naturedly about being a local celebrity. The nurses on Beta unit joshed him about being a hero, and he was starting to become uncomfortable with all the attention. Still, he played along good-naturedly for a few minutes before cutting off their questions and asking if he could see Paul.

Paul was lying on his bed reading a science fiction book. His right eye was still swollen, but he looked better than the last time Chris had seen him. Chris knocked gently on the door frame to announce his arrival. Momentarily startled, Paul broke into a smile when he recognized his visitor. “Hi. Looks like you took a hit in the face too.”

Chris smiled back. “Yeah. But your injury was a lot more serious than mine was. How are you doing?”

“I'm all right.” There was an awkward pause, then Paul blurted out, “I'm sorry about that whole letter thing. Ray made me swear not to say where it came from. I should have known better.”

“That wasn't your fault at all, Paul. I'm sorry about what happened to you. I visited you at the hospital, but you were sleeping.”

“Yeah, my mom told me. Thanks.”

“Did your mom end up visiting for your birthday?”

“Yes. She went home yesterday. She wanted me to thank you for her, by the way. I think she's planning to call you.”

“If it's okay with you, I'll give her a call.”

Paul nodded. “Dr. Stevenson says I might be found NCR.”

“That's my understanding, too. So if the Court agrees with Dr. Stevenson's recommendation and makes that finding, you'll come back here and we'll help put a plan together for your eventual return home.”

“Will you still be my social worker?”

“Yes. Unless you want a different one.”

“No, I want you. I can tell you care.”

“Thanks, Paul. I'll give your mother a call and set up a time for a family meeting. Sound okay?”

“Yes.” As Chris was about to leave, Paul threw in, “I read about you in the paper. You're a hero.”

Chris felt his cheeks flush. “It was an... interesting night.”

“I'm glad you found that girl.”

“Yeah, me too.” Chris sensed that there was something else on Paul's mind. “Is everything okay?”

Paul looked anxious and hesitated before responding. “Ray gives this place a bad name. He gives us all a bad name.”

Chris was caught off guard by Paul's comment. “What do you mean?”

“I've been reading the paper and the letters to the editor. It's all about Ray Owens and this hospital. People think we're all like him, and they've been saying some pretty crappy stuff about this place.” He stopped for a moment, then said in a rush, “The world is hard enough as it is. People look at me differently when I tell them I have schizophrenia. It's hard to get a job, and people won't rent to me. They think I'm going to freak out or something.” He took a deep breath. “I didn't know what to expect when I first heard I was coming here. But it's actually a pretty decent place. The staff understands what it means to hear voices, to have a mental illness. And they help. But outside of this place, people think I'm like Ray. And I'm
not
. It just seems so unfair.” Paul lowered his head dejectedly.

Chris searched for the right thing to say. He wished he could tell Paul that everything was going to be okay and that the world would understand and accept him for who he was. But he opted for the truth. He placed his hand on Paul's shoulder. “I'm really sorry. You're right. It doesn't seem fair. Hell, it
isn't
fair. I wish I had the answer, but I don't.”

Paul looked Chris in the eye. “You don't need to have the answer. We all need to find our own answers. But you helped me by listening and giving me hope. I know I won't be doing it alone.” He sighed. “I just wish I'd never heard of Ray Owens.”

Chris nodded. “I know what you mean, Paul, I really do.” He resisted the urge to continue talking about Ray, deciding instead to discuss things that were within Paul's power. “You're handling things the right way, by focusing on yourself and the things you have control over in your life. That will serve you well. Both here and when you leave here.”

“Thanks.”

“I'll let you get back to your book. I just wanted to come by to say hi. I'll see you tomorrow.”

Chris headed to his office. Over the past few days, he'd spent very little time at his desk, and knew his colleagues in the social work department had been picking up the slack—taking on new patients admitted for court-ordered assessments normally assigned to Chris, as well as dealing with his current patient caseload.

He'd owe the team big time when things settled down. Of course, his days at IFP might be numbered. He would miss his colleagues, both within the department as well as throughout the hospital. He'd had many ups and downs over his years at IFP, but this was the best place he'd ever worked, and he considered many of his co-workers the closest thing to family he'd ever known.

He tried to shake the depressing thought from his mind and focus on something constructive. Glancing at his watch, he saw that he was late for the social work department's weekly staff meeting, debated whether he should attempt to catch the last ten minutes, unsure how his colleagues would receive him after his behaviour of the past few days. But he decided it was important to offer his apologies and extend his thanks to the rest of the department, particularly if this was in fact his last working day.

Four of Chris' colleagues were sitting inside the room, with no sign of his manager. He walked in and sat down. “Hi guys, sorry I'm late.” Whatever topic had been on the table before his arrival was abruptly dropped, and all eyes turned to him.

I guess the floor's mine. Where to start
? He thought for a moment, then decided to keep it simple and start with the truth. “I... I came here to say I'm sorry. Feels like I've been saying ‘I'm sorry' a lot lately. The last week or so has been like a roller coaster for me. Anyone who knows me knows I don't do well on roller coasters.”

Allison smiled. Heartened, he continued. “Believe me, I would never have chosen to be in this situation. I feel like I got dropped in the middle of it. I've been trying my best to fight my way out ever since.” He could feel by the lump in his throat that he was on the verge of losing control. “I know I've made mistakes, and I know I've left you in the lurch and stuck picking up after me. So again, I'm sorry.” He wasn't sure what else to say, so he stopped.

“You don't have to apologize,” Katherine said softly. “We know you've been going through hell. We've all been really worried about you.”

Sarah joined in. “If anyone should be apologizing, it's us. We've felt bad because we've wanted to do something to help but we didn't know what to do.”