by Mary Stone
“So, in layman’s terms, you’re trying to exonerate the man who, most likely, is the killer.” Winter regretted the bite in her words but stood by the sentiment.
Autumn blew out a hard breath and laid her head against the back of her chair. “I’m just attempting to unearth the truth.”
Winter was wont to argue the matter further but considered the exhaustion her friend must be experiencing. This job took a toll. That was a well-known fact. Autumn had to be a bit overwhelmed, and a lecture from her best friend wouldn’t help matters.
If she feels better checking all the nooks and crannies, let her. She’ll learn, and no real harm will be done.
“Well, good luck with your searching. I guess this isn’t really my case to worry about, anyway.” Sarcasm sharpened the words as the still-present bitterness of not being an actual part of the investigation reared its ugly, obnoxious head.
“I’m sorry.” Autumn’s expression held genuine sympathy. “I know that must be frustrating.”
Somehow, her friend’s condolence only served to irk Winter’s silent vexation. “Not a big deal. I’ve got other things on my mind. I suppose you know Noah made a surprise appearance during my visit with Justin?”
Autumn’s quick nod reeked of guilt.
Of course she knows. Autumn has all the deets nowadays. She’s got the lowdown on cases I’m not even allowed to touch.
Winter knew, deep down, that her resentment wasn’t fair. Autumn had intel on the case she’d been assigned, just as Winter had committed to memory the grand story of Mrs. Camilla and the Vegas wedding murder plot.
But logic wasn’t comforting her in the current moment.
“He just barged in, like some roided-up pit bull on a mission. The dumbest part being that the visit was going fine…going well…until he got there. Noah set Justin off just by walking into the room. Made him go somewhere completely dark and awful in a split-second.” Winter placed a hand to her temple, desperate to forget her brother’s instant mutation into whatever he’d become in those minutes.
“Noah made Justin go somewhere dark?” Autumn was none too delicate with her implication.
Ouch, Dr. Trent.
“He triggered him, and the entire intrusion wasn’t necessary. Justin and I have really…connected in the wake of all this chaos.” She lifted her chin, not caring that her intentions were edged in defiance. “I plan to be there for him through his recovery. My presence isn’t going to be a question anymore.”
Emerald green eyes full of concern locked with Winter’s rebellious blues. “That might not be the best idea…increasing your time with Justin right now. He’s improving a bit, but he’s far from stable. An upsurge of visits from his biological sister could exacerbate that instability.”
“What?” Winter’s shock mingled with anger. Surely Autumn hadn’t meant that. At least not in the way she’d said it.
“We have to get to the bottom of all the crimes he’s committed. We need the truth. We need to know how many people he’s actually killed, where the bodies are, and even what other horrifying crimes The Preacher may have committed that Justin was witness to. I know you wouldn’t want to interfere with that.” Autumn studied her, clearly not knowing what Winter wanted at all.
“Interfere?” Winter hadn’t meant to raise her voice, but he was her brother for Christ’s sake. “With my own brother’s recovery? I’m the only one here who knows the person he was…the person he still is somewhere underneath all of that jacked up mental damage. He was an innocent little boy, Autumn, and not that long ago. I’m the best person to help him find his way back from this madness!”
Autumn winced as though she’d been slapped. “Do you not trust me with your brother? Or are you just questioning my skills as a Doctor of Psychology in general? I’m trained to work with patients like Justin. You know that.”
“No offense, but if you’re spending all of your time trying to exonerate the current case’s most obvious suspect, maybe your ‘skills’ should be called into question.” Winter stood tall, slapping a hand to her hip.
Autumn remained outwardly calm, but Winter knew from the bond the two women shared that she had struck her friend deep. She hated herself for doing it, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself either.
“I’m trying to view all sides of the situation.” Autumn’s rage bubbled just beneath the surface of her calm façade. “That’s an important method that you might want to remember when you visit with Justin. You’re purposely forgetting how unbalanced he is and all of the horrible things he did before he was finally caught because he’s your brother and it hurts to see what he’s become.”
Winter shook her head so hard her hair flew into her eyes. “That’s not true.”
“He’s dangerous, Winter. Didn’t you witness how unstable he is just a few hours ago? You’re not being honest with yourself.” Autumn wasn’t giving. Not even a little bit.
The words Justin had whispered into her ear flew through Winter’s mind. How much worse would this conversation be if Autumn knew about that little commentary?
No one will ever know about that because I will never tell anyone what he said. He wasn’t himself. He wasn’t Justin. He didn’t mean it.
“Was. Shouldn’t you say ‘how unstable’ he was? He’s made strides toward getting better. Triggers are going to happen while he recovers, but he is recovering.” Winter straightened, beginning to walk away as her temper piqued.
Autumn threw her hands up in frustration. “Why are we even having this conversation? We both know I can’t break doctor/patient confidentiality and discussing Justin like this is inappropriate. On top of that, I’ve only met with him a handful of times. He could require years of treatment to even begin clearing the brainwashing Douglas Kilroy instilled in him.”
Winter halted, her fury morphing into disbelief. Discussing her baby brother with her close friend was inappropriate? Of course she was aware of the FBI’s red tape, tight-lipped policies on open cases. And she would never expect Autumn to break her ethical oath, either.
But who exactly could she turn to with her Justin-related turmoil?
Noah?
Hilarious. Noah hated her little brother. He would never say the words out loud, in part from loving her too much to inflict such a grave injury, but also because he had to know that she could never forgive him if he did.
No one. She had no one to lean on where Justin was involved…except for Justin. And even she knew that going to a serial killer for advice or comfort regarding a serial killer was ludicrous.
The irony was that he had no one either, aside from her, to lean on for anything in this whole entire world.
I won’t let him be abandoned. Not again.
Autumn reached a hand toward her, but Winter took two steps back and refused to grab it. Autumn dropped the signature of kindness and leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. Their eyes met, but her crimson-haired friend seemed a million miles away.
“Winter, I know this is incredibly difficult to hear. Even more heartbreaking than me finding out that Sarah is now a stripper…and a prostitute. But you have to give Justin’s situation time. I’m devoted to working with him, to getting a handle on his crimes, and creating his profile for the BAU’s files. The sessions are both medically privileged and the BAU’s business. Discussing them with you would be wrong.”
Winter’s stomach ached for a short moment before steeling over.
Justin was a BAU file in process. Autumn was a contractor with the BAU. And she…was Agent Black. Nothing more, nothing less.
She had her own case to work on, her own assignment for the Violent Crimes Division.
Go sit at your desk and do your damn job. You should have checked your emotions at the field office’s front doors. Handle that shit on your own time. Alone…
Tired to her core, she tried to give Autumn a neutral nod before walking away but knew her sensitive friend sensed the bitterness and resentment emanating from every fiber of her being.
/> Autumn was right.
Justin’s “case” wasn’t Winter’s business. His heart, his soul, his fate…those were her concerns as his big sister. And they didn’t have a place inside this building, regardless of the space they consumed in her mind.
As Winter turned her back on Autumn, she vowed to focus on nothing aside from bringing her own criminal case to justice. Let Dr. Trent throw away hours finding an escape route for the murderous medical director of Virginia State Hospital. Let her do whatever she needed to do for the BAU with her brother.
While Autumn was doing her job, Winter would do hers.
Winter nailed the bad guys.
And as there wasn’t a shortage of criminals in this dark and dreadful existence, she didn’t have time to waste consorting with her naïve friend.
A few hours alone at her desk distracted Winter from her troubles. But the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach never fully went away.
When Noah came striding toward her, she fought the urge to stand and embrace him. She hadn’t known how the sight of him would affect her, but now that he was here, her desire was simplistic. Childlike. She just wanted all the bad things to be good again.
He pulled a chair next to hers and took her hand in his own. His brooding green eyes reflected the distress she’d been drowning in. “I’m sorry. I hate that you’re going through so much right now. I hate seeing you in pain.”
She squeezed his palm and swallowed the emotions threatening to swamp her. “Nothing that’s happening right now is your fault.”
“I can’t stand anything coming between us like this.” He laced his long fingers with hers. “I start losing my mind.”
“Neither can I, and we’re not going to let that happen. You and I are solid. I promise you, we’ll stay solid.” She bit her tongue, fighting back tears she refused to let fall.
Noah cupped her chin in his hand. “I love you. Good things. I want the best things for us.”
“Agreed. I love you too.” Winter pulled her head back with a gentle tug. They were still at work. Opening the door to her emotions too wide could backfire in a very unprofessional breakdown.
“Can I ask you…you seemed so upset when…” Noah tilted his head, relentless concern appearing to embolden him. “What did Justin whisper to you?”
She’d known the question was coming. She’d also known she wouldn’t give a truthful answer.
Winter waved a hand, trying for indifference though her insides stiffened. “Just some mumbled nonsense. I was mostly just disturbed by how incoherent he became.”
She doubted that Noah believed this, but he made the wise choice to let the inquiry pass.
I will never tell anyone. Never. Not even you, the man I love.
Her mind shifted to Autumn, and she was glad to segue to something…anything…that did not directly involve her brother. “I had a conversation with Autumn a few hours ago that didn’t go well at all.”
Noah studied her face, his beautiful eyes seeming to examine all the verbal wounds still lingering inside her. “A conversation? Or an argument?”
Winter figured FBI credentials weren’t necessary to divine the nature of their “chat.” The disturbance must have been evident in her expression. “She’s hellbent on finding favorable evidence or proof of some sort that Baldwin is innocent.”
“Innocent? Baldwin?” Noah slumped back in the chair he’d dragged over, throwing his feet onto Winter’s desk. “That guy is a complete ass. Arrogant as hell and a total control freak. Why would she even want to help him?”
Winter shoved Noah’s giant shoes off her workspace. “I wondered the same, but she’s not budging on this hunt. I’m beginning to think she sees a bit of herself in Philip. Maybe more than she cares to admit.”
“Autumn and Baldwin hate each other,” Noah countered, putting a playful foot on Winter’s lap.
She shot him an even stare and smacked his leg away with a dramatic stroke. “I’m aware. They can’t stand each other. Because they both think they’re right about everything.”
Noah shook his head, his expression full of disbelief. “Oh, come on. That doesn’t sound like Autumn.”
He was wrong.
Winter recalled her friend telling her with a calm, straight face that Justin was the BAU’s business.
“Right now, Autumn doesn’t sound like Autumn.”
22
I tapped the browser icon three consecutive times, opening one window for each major local network. Their online news streams were easy to access by the swift typing of my fingertips, bringing the websites alive one by one.
But listening to the local yokels wasn’t enough. I needed the nationwide broadcasts. My fingers flew across the keyboard, pulling up CNN and MSNBC. Hell, even FOX would work at this point. News, fake news, who cared? I wanted declaration of the doc’s savage crimes running rampant, regardless of the station.
Truth could take a vacation while justice was served.
He technically hadn’t killed Evelyn nor Paula, but he deserved this hailstorm of retribution.
What wasn’t fake at all was the footage of the great, almighty Dr. Philip Baldwin being led to a detective’s car. Reporters speculated that he was a person of interest in the recent rash of crimes afflicting Virginia State Hospital.
Delightful.
I clicked through the windows, stopping on my favorite thus far. A closeup of Philip’s aging, distraught face as he stared out the back window. His dark hair was ridiculously mussed, and his eyes…
A small laugh escaped me. The man was terrified.
Absolutely heartwarming.
Disgrace. Dishonor. Despair.
The doctor was ruined, and rightfully so. The evil son of a bitch had led himself to this point. His disgusting black heart and cold-blooded soul were his own undoing.
I’d long ago stopped believing that I could ever be at peace again, but the high of taking down Philip Baldwin was close.
His wealthy, sophisticated ass was going to flip a lot of heads in federal prison. And then he’d get turned inside-out on the daily. They might as well just send him in with a skirt on.
The most enjoyable part, aside from the still frame of his utter demise, was the flood of stories coming through about the unsafe environment of the state’s only maximum-security hospital.
I adjusted the windows’ sizes so I could view all of them at once. The cable networks had gone straight for the nitty-gritty details, interviewing former staff, and better yet, current staff. The disgruntled employees were more than happy to spill the dirt on the gargantuan brick edifice. Some of their comments were true, many were exaggerated, and a few were outright lies.
CNN, for instance, currently featured a former nurse, Lydia Jackson. Lydia’s face was red with anger as she spoke her hateful piece into the camera. “…I worked in that bleeeep-ing hellhole for three years. There wasn’t a single day where I didn’t fear for my bleeeep-ing life. Do you think the bleeeep-ing administration gave two bleeeep-ing bleeeeps about my welfare? I coulda been shanked, strangled, raped, and they’d just replace me like a disposable bleeeep-ing napkin!”
Not true.
Truth be told, security was handled with extreme seriousness at the hospital. A veritable army of guards and orderlies were kept in constant rotation twenty-four hours a day. And even though the camera footage was lacking altogether, the audio surveillance was massive.
I knew that little gem with certainty.
But there was some accuracy to the statement in that every employee was easy enough to replace. I’d found the job ad listing for Evelyn’s replacement in the paper just this morning.
Had they even scoured all her fecal matter from that elevator yet?
I turned my attention to MSNBC. “…and no one is actually working with those psychos. They’re prisoners. Sick, rotting nutjobs pumped up with drugs and left to die.”
Interesting. This informant was listed as a current employee. No name was given, the face was blurred, and the
voice disguised. The fuzzy, indistinct form appeared to be that of a man, but it was impossible to tell for certain.
I wasn’t sure of my opinion about that particular sentiment. Some of the patients seemed to improve from my observations, but those were few and far between. And while there was a plethora of sedatives pumping through the veins of the building’s tenants, the medications were given for damn good reasons.
Those people were crazy. Crazy as could be.
There were days when the toxic mix of mental illnesses even got to me, and I had a pretty thick skin compared to the average human being. I was more stable than anyone else I knew.
I knew I’d want my loved ones to medicate the hell out of me if I ever went over the deep end the way these poor bastards had.
Besides, anyone who died in that building, aside from the two women I had killed, more than likely never had a chance of making their way back into society anyway.
Lifers.
And come to think of it, I’d probably done Evelyn and Paula both a favor by relieving them of their duties. Evelyn would have eventually been killed by one of her murderous best friends. I had no doubt about that.
Such a silly woman, that one.
And Paula led a miserable life, both at work and home. She hated everything in this world, and the world seemed to hate her right back.
Life shouldn’t be wasted on the ungrateful.
Two casualties of war that weren’t worth two seconds of regret. Not really.
Reports claiming to be based on actual prisoner/patient squealers were now leaking across the feeds.
All was well, and my plan was working out with beautiful synchronicity.
While no one else would understand how access was gained to these dangerous minds and their batshit crazy two cents, I was perfectly aware.
Contraband phones, delivered in numerous methods of stealth, connected the nuts to the news. And not a single patient would have anything negative to say about me, because I was the man they turned to when they needed something the hospital denied them.
