Angel of Darkness (28 page)

‘She wanted to go home,' the bouncer said without hesitation. ‘He said he knew a few more clubs where she could get a job and he would be glad to drive her to them. She told him to forget it, that she just wanted a ride home.' The bouncer looked at Maggie and then at Calvano before addressing them both directly. ‘I told her that if she wanted, she could wait a few more hours and I would be glad to give her a ride home. But she said she was fine, that she could handle the guy.'

He didn't ask if she had turned out to be fine. There was no point to that, he knew.

‘Anything else we can help you with?' the owner asked, casting an anxious glance at his customers. They were starting to notice Maggie and Calvano and looked uniformly guilty at their presence. They fidgeted with their drinks and unconsciously reached for the pants pockets that held their wallets.

Hey
, I could've told them,
it could be a lot worse.
It could be your wives standing there instead of the cops.

‘I don't suppose you know where the guy who was with Darcy Swan might be holing up?' Maggie asked the club owner. ‘We think he's good for more than just her murder.'

The club owner shook his head. He looked genuinely sorry. ‘I got no idea,' he said. ‘But I wish you luck, most sincerely.'

The bouncer held the door open for them as they left, and watched Maggie and Calvano carefully as they walked to their car. I knew he blamed himself a little for what had happened to Darcy. Sometimes having a conscience sucked.

‘What do we do now?' Calvano asked when they were back in the privacy of their car.

She was silent for a moment, thinking. ‘We go to Gonzales and tell him what we've learned. Even he can't ignore that Mullins was the last person seen with Darcy. He'll have to give us some help searching for him.'

‘What good is that going to do?' Calvano asked her. ‘The guy could be anywhere.'

‘We have to try,' Maggie said. ‘He has to be somewhere.'

Maybe they didn't know where Eugene Mullins would run, but I thought I did. He was linked to Otis Parker by a bond that had a power of its own. Eugene Mullins intended to free Otis Parker before he left town. I knew it with a certainty. And it would be up to me to find a way to stop him.

THIRTY-FIVE

W
hen you are dead, rain is like a gift from the heavens. It washes through you, leaving tiny jet trails of energy zinging around what passes for your body. But that afternoon, the heavens were going through mood swings like I had never seen before. As I left Maggie and Calvano at the station, preparing to tell Gonzales what they had learned, the rain stopped abruptly just as I reached the gates of Holloway. The clouds rolled back to reveal a sliver of late afternoon sun desperate to prove it had been there all along. A breeze wafted the clean scent of wet earth from the surrounding fields over the lawn. It was as if Holloway itself longed to be washed clean from its bout with death.

How I wished that it truly was over. But I knew that Otis Parker, at the center of it all, had not yet made his final move.

Parker was in the common room, watching the evening news with other inmates. There was no reporting on the arraignment's details, only footage of Adam being led into the courthouse in chains while the news anchor announced with relief that the killer who had terrorized the town had been apprehended. Satisfaction oozed from Parker as he watched the crowd shouting threats at Adam. I wanted to slap the smile right off his face. But at least I knew it would fade soon enough on its own. He may have known that his lawyer had resigned, but he clearly had no idea that Eugene Mullins' involvement had been discovered and that the rest of his scheme was unraveling.

He was so smug that even the other patients could sense it and, apparently, not all of them liked it. A gawky patient with a prominent Adam's apple and bug-eyes kept glancing his way, annoyed at Parker's attitude. Parker noticed his stare and casually shot him the bird, mouthing something obscene as a kicker.

The inmate lost it. He leapt for Parker's throat, but Parker tossed him aside easily. He bounced off the wall and fell to the floor. While the other inmates laughed uproariously at this entertainment, the orderly with the braided beard rushed in from the hallway. He was in Parker's face within seconds. He pinned Parker to the back of his chair and calmly warned him, ‘You touch another patient again, and I will see that you go into solitary for a week, and I don't care what your lawyer says about it.'

Parker immediately hunched down in his chair, trying to appear smaller, as if he were submitting to the orderly.

That's when I knew Parker was making a run for it that night. There was no other explanation for why Parker would deprive himself of the violence he loved so much. He had to have access to the shower room and could not risk being confined.

The orderly stared down at Parker suspiciously. He knew Parker was up to something. But there was nothing more he could do, so he turned his attention to the gawky inmate sitting dazed on the floor and helped him to his feet, telling him to sit across the room and stay the hell away from Parker. The other patient looked frightened but obeyed.

I was the only one to notice that somehow, in the confusion of the moment, Otis Parker had slipped the plastic cuff restraints from the orderly's back pocket. As everyone else watched the gawky patient shuffle across the room, Parker stuffed the cuffs into his pants and turned his attention back to the television set.

I did not want to know what he had in mind for those cuffs.

It would be hours before Parker made a move, so I left to check on my friends in the long-term unit, wondering if I could find a way to get a message about Otis Parker and his plans through to one of them. As I crossed the lawn, I saw cars traversing the roads in the valley below. There were far more cars on the highway than usual. Judging from the lack of extra guards in Otis Parker's unit, Maggie had still not been able to convince Gonzales that Parker was involved, but the extra cars told me that she had convinced him that Eugene Mullins was involved and been given help looking for him.

The news that Adam Mullins had been arrested for the murders had clearly reassured the long-term unit staff. They believed the killer was in custody and they were safe. Doors locked as a precaution were now back to their normal unlocked state and the signing in and out procedures had been lifted.

The patients on the unit were not so complacent. Restless from being cooped up inside on a rainy day, they worked out their pent-up energy by roaming the halls, squabbling in the common room or erupting in erratic behavior. Lily was the only beacon of calm among their chaos. Always alone from the others, she stood sentinel at the window in the common room, lost in her dark world as she looked out into the twilight, seeking monsters.

Harold Babbitt was in full form. Fresh red and neon green ointment had been applied to the scabs on top of his head, giving it an Easter egg-like appearance. His helmet was nowhere to be seen. He kept dashing down the stairs to the front door every few minutes, clamoring to be let out. Invariably, he would be retrieved before reaching freedom and led back up the stairs with a promise that tomorrow he would be able to resume his daily walks.

But Harold did not live in a world based on tomorrows. Harold lived in the right here and the right now. Two hours later, while the staff was distracted by a bodybuilding patient whose near-catatonic state had given way to mania, Harold slipped out the front door and escaped into the night. I followed him outside and passed Olivia sitting in the visitors' room, staring out a window at a world she was gathering her courage to rejoin. She noticed Harold leaving and followed him outside. I knew she wanted to sit by the waters of her beloved fountain.

Her step was strong. Olivia was getting better. She was starting to shed the guilt she felt over her daughter's death and looking ahead to a life outside of Holloway.

I followed her to the courtyard and took a seat on the bench next to hers. She did not notice me. That was another good sign. She settled in to watch the water tumbling over the marble cherubs frolicking in the fountain. A few dozen yards away, obscured by the night, Harold was marching back and forth across the lawn chanting, ‘Harold Babbitt walks a fine line across the lawn. Harold Babbitt walks a fine line across the lawn.'

And in life, my friend, and in life.

‘Are you there?'

I was startled by Olivia's voice. It was clear and lovely, ringing out in the night air.

‘Yes,' I said. ‘I'm on the bench next to yours.'

‘Are you an angel?' she asked. ‘Sometimes I can see you and sometimes, like now, I can only feel you near.'

‘I'm pretty sure I'm not an angel. That's definitely above my pay grade.'

‘Then what are you?' She faltered. ‘Are you real?'

‘I'm real,' I assured her. ‘I'm definitely real.'

‘I'm going home,' she said. ‘I told my therapist that I was ready to go home. I think I'm going to be OK.'

As she said it out loud, I realized that her recovery meant I would lose her. She was turning away from death and turning toward life. She would need to leave me behind.

She had been my only friend in this strange world of mine and I could not bear the thought of losing her.
Tell her about Otis Parker
, a seductive voice inside me whispered –
tell her of his plans to flee and the stolen handcuffs.
If they did not believe her, if the staff thought she was talking to invisible friends or taking wild rumors and turning them into fact, they would keep her here at Holloway, with me, a little longer. And if they did believe her, at least there would be more eyes on Otis Parker, maybe even enough to thwart his escape.

I could not do that to her. I could not risk the chance that her plans to start a new life might be blocked because of me, not after all the courage it had taken her to get to this point. I had to find another way to stop Otis Parker. And I had to let Olivia go.

All I could do was let her know how much her friendship had meant to me. But I could not find the words to express how I felt. She had been my light in a dark world and now she was going. I let the silence grow around us as I gathered the courage to tell her goodbye. The minutes ticked by and I felt myself fading from her world. I knew I needed to say something before it was too late.

‘I want you to know,' I began – but then, just like that, it
was
too late. The link between our two worlds had been severed.

I was, once again, nothing but a watcher.

We sat, watching rain clouds roll back across the sky to obliterate the moon. More rain was on the way. It was a fitting backdrop for my mood.

Our peace was disturbed by Harold's abrupt arrival. He came marching up the brick walkway, heading toward his building, repeating the same thing over and over: ‘Harold Babbitt did not see a rabbit. Harold Babbitt did not see a rabbit.'

At first, I chalked it up to Harold being Harold. But as he hurried toward the front door of his unit, faster than I had ever seen him move before, I began to wonder. He had not seen a rabbit, but he surely had seen something. But what, at this time of night? It was nearing ten o'clock. The staff would not change shifts for another hour. The grounds were deserted.

Could Otis Parker have started his journey out of Holloway early? Could he be hiding in the trees?

I thought of the way he had looked at Olivia. I thought of the way his hands twitched when he called out to her. And that was when I knew – Otis Parker intended to commit one final, horrific act of taking before he left Holloway behind forever. He wanted Olivia.

I was afraid. I sat on the bench, knowing I should move, knowing that I needed to find a way to alert someone to what might happen. But I had felt the power of Otis Parker over me and I feared what he could do.

Olivia had started to hum. It was a children's song, one that held happy memories for her. But I did not want it to be her final song.

A distant rumble and a quickening of the breeze told me that the rain would arrive again soon. Soon enough to drive Olivia inside?

No. She lifted her face up to the sky and breathed deeply, finding freedom in the fresh air.

I felt a tremor in the night. Fear wrapped itself around me. I felt the urge to flee and fought it. Olivia needed me.

It took all my will to rise from the bench and confront what I feared. I would not be a coward now. I had spent a lifetime running from danger, afraid of both emotional and physical pain. I knew I had to change, that this could well be a test after a lifetime of apathy, a time to choose whether I would finally take a stand for something I cared about.

Behind me, a night bird trilled and an owl answered. Crickets chirped and frogs joined in their song, happy for the moist night. All around, I could feel the new growth of spring waiting out the evening, suspended and ready for the warmth of the morning sun. The air smelled of fresh earth, green shoots and rain. The air smelled of new life. It was no time to die. I had to do something to save Olivia.

As I moved toward the grove of trees, the powerful darkness that hovered around Otis Parker grew stronger. It was a poison that wrapped itself around me, reaching down into my guts, grabbing all the joy I had collected in my wanderings and trying to squeeze it from me.

The breeze shifted directions and brought me the acrid odor of Otis Parker's sweat. He was crouched inside the perimeter of the grove, his body obscured by shadows as he leaned against a beech tree and stared across the lawn at Olivia. He was excited by her helplessness, by the lack of barriers between them. He was savoring the moment, already tasting his power over her as he anticipated her anguish. Something ugly bloomed in him and demanded to be fed. His body vibrated with needs so dark I could not look at them further.

He moved away from the grove toward Olivia, slipping through the shadows. He had the ability to spot a patch of darkness and disappear into it, wearing the night as he melted from spot to spot. He was a trick of the shadows, here now and then gone, a predator at ease with his world.