The Haunted (Sarah Roberts 12) (11 page)

BOOK: The Haunted (Sarah Roberts 12)
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“My office used to be in another building two blocks away.” Williams suddenly looked around. “Excuse me. Can we take this into an office?”

 

“Absolutely,” Kershaw said.

 

They followed Williams down the corridor and into a room on the left. He closed the door and walked around to sit behind a large metal desk.

 

“Understandably, I can’t reveal much about Sarah, but what I can say is that she’s here, under my care—”

 

“She’s here!” Aaron snapped. “For what? I demand to see her.”

 

“Look, son, there are rules that the State of California have in place that protect the patient. What she wants to tell you is up to her, but all I’m able to say is that she’s here under a seventy-two-hour hold.”

 

“Hold for what?” Aaron said, his thighs pressing on the back of the desk.

 

“That’s enough,” Kershaw stepped in beside Aaron.

 

“No, it’s okay.” Williams raised a hand for calm. “I understand. You’re emotionally attached to her. I can tell you that she’s okay right now. At this moment she’s participating in a group therapy session.” He cleared his throat. “I might be able to pull some strings and give you a quick visit tomorrow if you were to return.”

 

“Why is she here?” Parkman asked.

 

“She came to me for help. Sarah needs more help than she would receive in one-hour sessions at my office. I don’t commit people for observation lightly. Under California law, she was allowed one phone call. You know, to let people close to her know where she is. I’m sorry that you weren’t her chosen call.”

 

Aaron moved Kershaw aside, making it clear he wasn’t to stand in front of him again. “And how does it help Sarah that the one person Sarah has an issue with is Cole Lincoln, a guard at this hospital? Or was that the plan? To get them together? Are you helping Sarah or working for Cole?”

 

“Now wait just one minute,” Williams said as he shot up from behind the desk. “What exactly are you insinuating? Are you accusing me of something, young man?”

 

“I think that’s enough,” Kershaw interrupted.

 

“I’ve been a psychologist in the State of California for over two decades. When I say a patient needs to be held for a seventy-two-hour observation, it is because I have deemed that they appear to be a danger to themselves or others. This is not a criminal distinction. Within a couple of days, she will be free to go. Whether she has history with a member of our staff or not has not come up during her therapy sessions.”

 

Then it donned on Aaron that this was exactly where Sarah wanted to be. She probably met with Williams and convinced him to commit her. Now, inside these walls, Sarah’s finally going to get to Cole. Even if it wasn’t Sarah consciously, then Vivian had something to do with it. Either way, standing here and trying to get answers from Williams could thwart anything Sarah had set in motion, which would only upset her. They had probably gone too far already.

 

Aaron backed up and raised his hands. “It’s okay,” he said. “I’ll leave. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” The room grew silent. Everyone stared at him. “We came to learn of her whereabouts. We’ve found her in your care. Everything is fine now.” Aaron smiled wide as he reached the door to the office.

 

“It’s not fine yet,” Kershaw said. “An investigation will have to be held into where and when Sarah was committed and how a body found its way into Sarah’s car.”

 

Aaron stayed near the door. Parkman caught his eye and frowned. With a jerk of his head, Aaron got Parkman to follow him out into the corridor. The door to the office closed, leaving Kershaw and Williams alone in the room.

 

“What’s with the about-face?” Parkman asked.

 

Aaron checked to make sure the woman in yellow wasn’t close by. Then he leaned in close to Parkman. “How do we not know that this has been Sarah’s plan the whole time?”

 

“What are you thinking?” Parkman asked.

 

“She wanted to locate Cole. Now she has. Not only has she found him, she couldn’t just wait for him outside until he got off shift and walked to his car. There are stalking laws, harassment laws against that sort of thing. Why not commit herself for seventy-two hours? Spend three days in an asylum, scoping him out, learning his ways, getting to know him? Here we are, about to fuck that up for her when we both know Sarah can handle herself. She’s got Vivian, too.” He slapped Parkman’s arm. “We need to learn to step aside and only come when she calls for us.”

 

Parkman looked away. He seemed to be thinking about it. “Makes sense. But something still doesn’t add up.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“How do you explain the body in her car? Murder doesn’t fit into that picture. And if something happened where the murder was justified, Sarah wouldn’t leave the body in her car. The body was left on purpose, to be found, and she’s going to have to explain it. Or someone else will.”

 

“Shit. You’re right. Then what’s really going on?”

 

Parkman shrugged. “No idea. That’s why we’re here. At least we know Sarah’s here and so is Cole. Maybe this’ll wrap up faster than we anticipated.”

 

The office door opened. Kershaw stepped out and started down the corridor toward the front doors.

 

“C’mon guys,” he said over his shoulder.

 

Aaron and Parkman fell in step behind him. When they were outside, Kershaw pulled up short of his car and turned around. For a second Aaron thought he was going to blast him for being aggressive back there, but he didn’t. He said something altogether worse.

 

“Sarah’s in trouble. They’re holding her against her will and we have to get her out of here.”

 

“What?” Parkman stammered. “What did Williams say?”

 

“He’s hiding something and enjoying it. I’ve seen the gleam in his eye in a thousand assholes on the street. He’s in charge, protected by patient confidentiality. No one will dare challenge him. Without proper papers, no one will see Sarah for another two days. She’s alone in that asylum with Williams running the show and that Cole guy on shift right now.” Kershaw shook his head. “Something stinks. Even after I told him we found a body in Sarah’s car, his surprised act was see-through.” Kershaw put a hand on Aaron’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Aaron. Let’s head back to the station and see what we can do about this. Even if we can’t get Sarah out of here for the next two days, I’ll at least get them to grant me a visitation in light of the murdered woman in her car. We have to see that she’s okay. We just have to, because I don’t think she is. Something tells me she’s in a lot of trouble.”

 

Kershaw spun on his heels and half walked, half ran for the car.

 

“If he’s right,” Aaron said, “there goes my theory of her wanting to be here.”

 

“It was only a theory,” Parkman added.

 

Once they were all in Kershaw’s car, he squealed the tires on the way out of the parking lot.

 

When Aaron looked back at the doors they had just exited, Dr. Williams was standing there, watching them leave.

 

It looked like Williams was smiling.

 

Chapter 17

The scent of food wafting down the corridor from the dining area made her stomach ache. She hadn’t eaten since being brought in.

 

Cole leaned down and whispered, “Your hands are secured to the wheelchair and they’re not going to be untied. I’ll be feeding you.”

 

He pushed her chair toward the dining area.

 

“What am I supposed to have?” Sarah asked.

 

“Whatever’s cooking.”

 

“No, not food, condition. What psychosis have you fabricated to get me here? I must be badass to be locked to a chair and a bed with no one saying anything about it.”

 

“Your diagnosis is the Macdonald Triad.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

They entered an area filled with tables. Patients in various levels of dress and cleanliness meandered through the tables, plates of food in their hands. Someone laughed high and loud, the kind heard at a circus. Another person to Sarah’s right grunted.

 

“The Macdonald Triad is also called the triad of sociopathy. Fancy words for a set of three behavioral characteristics with violent tendencies. Basically, you’re a predator who commits serial offenses. You destroyed your cabin, too.”

 

She turned and glared at him. “I did what?”

 

“You destroyed your cabin. Then killed that receptionist in Williams’ office. With your history, which has been documented in the media for years, it will be an easy sell.”

 

“Why kill the woman? Why wreck the cabin? Only to justify why you locked me up? Or to cover up more of yours and Williams’ indiscretions?”

 

“Beef stroganoff and steamed carrots are on the menu tonight,” he said, ignoring her questions. “You’ll enjoy the beef, Sarah. Think of this as your last meal.”

 

He pushed her chair into a vacant corner by the window. He left her and started toward the food trays. Outside, the sun was an hour away from disappearing and still nothing from Vivian.

 

Where are you?
she asked.
Could use a little help here.

 

A woman pivoted to look at Sarah. She snapped her head Sarah’s way so fast that her body shook with the effort. Then the woman, dressed in a drab brown top and too-short shorts, shot to her feet.

 

Sarah glanced at Cole who hadn’t noticed the woman’s odd behavior. When she looked back, the woman was already walking toward Sarah. Sarah jerked her hands up in defense, but the restraints held fast. The woman’s mouth moved, eyebrows twitched, and her hands clenched and unclenched as she strode toward Sarah.

 

Ten feet from the wheelchair, the woman burst into a run and dove at Sarah. Out of reflex, Sarah flinched and shoved her body to the side of the chair, but couldn’t get too far.

 

The woman smashed into the wall just behind the wheelchair, slamming her fists into the eggshell white paint, ranting gibberish.

 

“Code one!” a man yelled from somewhere in the room.

 

Then Cole was on the crazy woman, attempting to subdue her arms but without success as she flailed at the wall. Three other men show up and landed on the woman. A needle was produced and then they got her turned over, pushing her into the chair’s wheelbase. Moments later, they took the woman away as she kicked and screamed.

 

Cole breathed deep, hitched up his pants and turned to Sarah.

 

“Code one was for the schizophrenic patients who scream and punch the walls. Katy often hears voices and sees monsters that aren’t there.” Cole offered Sarah a sardonic smile. “I would too if my uncle locked me in a basement cage for twelve years and raped me daily until there was nothing left inside but fear, anger and a lovely schizo-affective disorder. Well, almost nothing left inside, there’s still a little something in Katy for me.” He leaned down and whispered, “But let’s keep that between us.”

 

He walked away leaving Sarah in the chair, shaken from lack of food and the anger that almost felt like it was consuming her.

 

Do I always have to deal with human scum? I seem to be haunted by them.

 

But Sarah knew the answer. She would spend the rest of her days, however many she had left, dealing with men like Cole because she could fight back. Men like Cole were her prey. She was a predator after all. And she was here hunting Cole Lincoln and had added Dr. Williams to her list.

 

Cole brought over a small plate of food, whisked a chair around in front of Sarah and stuck a fork full of moist beef in Sarah’s face. Taking anything from the sick man in front of her was the last thing she ever thought she could do, but nourishment offered a better chance at leaving this building. She had to eat. She opened her mouth. He hesitated, staring inside at her tongue, her throat. She almost closed it again, but the fork moved forward and she accepted the food.

 

“The Macdonald Triad describes an obsession with fire setting, which you will do tonight. It also covers enuresis, or bedwetting, which you already did on your own. I have to thank you for that.” He smiled that horrid grin of his as he stirred her food and offered up more. “According to Dr. Williams, fire setting is a release of aggression. You, Sarah Roberts, seem quite aggressive.”

 

As she listened to Cole rant on about her supposed conditions, she ate and thought of escape. Before the fire broke out in the hospital, she had to try to save as many people as she could. But how if she couldn’t even save herself?

 

“After dinner,” Cole went on, “everyone will be going for closure group to see if they met their daily goals. You won’t be joining them. That’s the time when you’ll be investigating me.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“That’s right. You’ll have stored all my files and patient complaint forms in your room. How you did it will remain a mystery for most, but then they’ll locate my key card on your person when the fire marshal conducts his investigation.”

 

The stroganoff was done and the carrots tasted horrible.

 

“I’m done eating.”

 

Cole set the plate aside and looked around the room. No one was close enough to hear them and even if they were, how much would it matter?

 

Helena, the white-haired woman from earlier, who spoke of the burning coming in the night, stared at Sarah from the other side of the room.

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