The man walked away. We heard him talk to someone down the hall. "Do you know if Doctor Rosenblum is around?"
A woman said, "She’s gone for six months. Research sabbatical. If you need to get in touch with her, talk to Doctor Min. He’ll know how to contact her."
The man said, "Thanks," and we sighed with relief.
Then, he said, "I thought I heard someone in her office."
We froze again.
"Really? I’ll check it out. Thanks for letting me know."
She was coming.
I said, "Fuck."
Corona pushed me downward, none too gently. "Get under the desk."
I hunkered into the cubby hole. Corona sat in the chair and scooted up close. She put a leg on either side of me. She smelled of baby powder.
The lock clicked, and the door opened.
"Corona? What are you doing in here?"
"Doc Bella asked me to defrag her hard drive for her. Her computer’s been running slow lately. I told her I’d do it before she got back, and so here I am, doing it."
The woman asked, "How did you get in here?"
"She gave me her code."
"Well, now’s not a good time to be wandering around the offices. C’mon. Let’s get you back to your room. C’mon."
"Nope. I can't leave this defrag halfway through. It'll fuck up the computer, and you don't want to have to explain why that happened, do you? It's almost done. I'll leave as soon as it is. Promise."
The woman hesitated. "There are police everywhere today. When you're done de-whatevering the whatever, come find me in my office. 215."
Corona saluted, "Yes, ma'am."
The woman said, "I'll walk you back to your ward."
"Sure thing."
The door shut behind her, and the lock engaged—and then I saw it.
A crumpled piece of paper had missed the trash can. It had the partial word "Col…" on it.
Corona scooted her chair back and looked down.
I crawled out.
"What's that?" Corona asked.
I smoothed out the crumpled paper and held it so she could see too. It was a color photocopy of a Center I.D. It had the name Colin Aubrey on it, but someone else’s picture, a face I recognized from the laundry.
"Damn," said Corona. "Who's that guy?"
"Jaxon Bellonescu. He works in the laundry." His Turkish coffee eyes looked directly out at me, his mouth serious, jaw tight.
"If that's supposed to be a fake I.D, it'll never work," Corona said. "Everyone knows Colin, and that guy looks nothing like him."
"It's too weird not to be a clue." I folded it and tucked it in my underwear. "Did you find anything on her computer?"
"She's got some weird browser history. She was looking at sites about Wyrdwood and Boston. Her email is sparse. All boring work stuff. Doc Bella's pretty old-school. She doesn't use her computer much."
"Let's get out of here before that woman comes back looking for you."
I waited for Corona by the door. When we left, she went toward 215, and I walked straight back to my room. No one stopped me, and why would they? I wasn’t doing anything wrong—or so my demeanor told them. Corona was a good teacher.
♦
Later, Corona came to my room. Simon was already there, pacing back and forth as I told him what we'd found.
Simon asked, "Then what happened?"
"Look at this." I smoothed out the photocopy on the bed.
Corona moved to stand beside me. "It’s not paranoia if leprechauns really are conspiring against you."
Just behind my right shoulder, Simon said, "Holy shit."
Corona pointed at it. "Look here, how the picture isn't quite in the right place. It was a first draft that failed."
I rubbed my thumb over Jaxon’s photo. "What do you think it means?"
Corona’s hands fluttered at her neck as she replied, "Well, the literal interpretation, of course, is that Jaxon intended to impersonate Colin, and Doc Bella either figured it out or was helping him make a fake I.D."
"If that’s true," I said, "then maybe Jaxon was the one who went to the tailor with Bella." I couldn’t keep the disappointment out of my voice.
Corona slapped her hands to either side of her face, mouth gaping. "Oh my god," she said. "Did Colin have any money? Was he rich?"
"Not that I know of."
"Anyone pretending to be him would have access to his holdings."
"Are you suggesting that they killed Colin so they could take his identity and steal from him?"
Corona shrugged. "Stranger things have happened."
"Except," I said, feeling my eyes open wide with the truth of it, "Colin’s not dead. He called me."
♦♦♦
CHAPTER 20
Lettie answered on the third ring. "What’s up, Viv?"
"Oh my god, you won’t believe what we found. Can you come back?"
"Back to the Center? I just got home."
"I know, but this is really important—really important."
"Just tell me."
I sighed. "Okay. Corona and I broke into Doc Bella’s office. We found evidence that Jaxon was trying to steal Colin’s identity. Here, I'm going to text you a picture."
"You broke into Grandma Rosenblum’s office?"
"Yeah. Look."
"Is that Jaxon?"
"Yeah."
Lettie was silent for several long seconds, then she said, "All right. I’ll be there soon. Don't do anything stupid."
♦
When Lettie arrived, she found me and Corona sitting on the bed examining our array of evidence.
"So," Lettie said, "let me see that paper." She crossed to the bed, and we offered the photocopy to her as if it were a precious treasure map. She stared at it for a long while, looked up at us, then back down at the paper. Her expression soured.
"It's real." I hovered at her side.
"I see," said Lettie, "a counterfeit ID card. Where did you find this?"
"On the floor in Bella’s office."
Corona said, "I know her code."
Lettie’s voice was soft and controlled. "Why would Jaxon need a card that identified him as Colin?"
I asked, "Was Jaxon at work last night?"
Lettie’s eyes snapped up to mine, and I saw something uncomfortable in them. "Jaxon quit, honey. Ajani said something about him wanting to move back home."
"When?"
Lettie shrugged, thinking back before answering. "I haven’t seen him since your accident. I remember thinking that our team was dropping like flies."
"Oh, and that’s a coincidence?" Corona said sarcastically. "I’m surprised the police didn’t notice." She got up and crossed to the wall, where she inverted into a handstand against it.
Lettie watched Corona. "They might have. They’ve been in Ajani’s office a lot lately."
"It’s adding up to foul play," said upside-down Corona, tone matter-of-fact.
"What else do you have?" asked Lettie. She focused on the clues spread upon the bed.
I described the phone call to the tailor.
As I talked, she went through the items on the bed, ending on Colin’s notes. She picked them up. "You mind if I read some of these?"
"No, go ahead."
Lettie searched for the last entry.
I read over her shoulder.
Viviane and I are taking a mini vacation away from the Center. I find myself packed and ready to go more than 36 hours in advance, sitting here planning how I’ll begin making love to her, plotting my romantic moves. It occurs to me that I should ask her to marry me again but do it better than I did the first time. Maybe I could make it a tradition.
I suppose I’m excited, and that’s an understatement. We’re going to have an awesome weekend. It’s all about Viviane. I’m going to make it so special she’ll never forget it, and neither will I.
Lettie had tears in her eyes by the time she finished reading it.
I put my arm around her and squeezed. "It’s okay
. He’s not gone forever. He’s coming back."
"I don’t know about that."
"I know," I stated. "You didn’t hear his voice. I did."
Lettie rested her hand upon my cheek and looked me in the eyes. "That’s exactly the problem, honey. Don't you see?"
I did see. I could have imagined—or dreamt—the call from Colin. "So, maybe I’ve lost it completely. Maybe he was reaching out to me from the Great Beyond. Maybe he's been kidnapped." I studied Lettie, considering the idea of telling her about the hag. Corona would corroborate it. My instincts, however, told me it was one step too far. I'd lose her support entirely if she didn't believe us.
I waved my hands over the clues on the bed. "But what about this stuff? You see it too. It’s solid, concrete evidence that something is going on."
"I just don’t know," Lettie said. "It’s all so far-fetched."
Corona said, "If you’re cuckoo, then I’m cuckoo, too."
I pointed at the photocopy. "What about the faked I.D.?"
Corona sat cross-legged on the floor. "And the tailor."
Lettie chewed on her bottom lip. "That doesn’t prove he’s alive."
"I know," I replied, "but it starts the questions. I need to find out for sure."
Lettie’s forehead creased. "How do you plan to do that?"
"I’m going to talk to Detective Hayward." I went to the chest of drawers, retrieved my purse, and dumped the contents out on the bedspread. There—amidst the old receipts, chewing gum, loose change, and lint—I found a business card.
Lettie asked, "What do you expect him to tell you?"
"Well," I replied. "If Colin’s alive, then who did they find in the lake? The police must have something that proves—one way or the other—who they found."
A slow, flat smile spread across Lettie’s face. "I may have gotten the looks, girl, but you got the brains. Good thinking." After a moment, however, her approval faded and was replaced with more worry. "You realize, honey, that if this is really happening, then the people involved aren’t the good guys."
"Yeah."
Lettie hid her face in her hands. "I can’t believe I’m buying into this. I’ve seen too many movies."
♦
It took me several tries to get through to Detective Hayward. When he finally picked up, he didn’t say, "Hello," he said, "Hayward."
I said, "Detective Hayward, it’s Viviane Rose."
"What can I do for you, Miss Rose?" he asked, wariness in his voice.
"I have a question about Colin."
He paused, leaving a gap of silence between us, then asked, "Does your doctor know you’re calling me?"
"I don’t need his permission to call you."
Hayward cleared his throat. "All right. Shoot."
"Are you sure the body you found was Colin’s?"
"Yes. Why do you ask?"
"How do you know?"
"He had identification on him, and his doctor confirmed it."
"Dr. Rosenblum?"
"Correct. What’s this about?"
"I need to know for sure that it was him."
Hayward sighed, sounding exasperated.
"Please," I said. "Call it closure. Call it whatever you want. I need something."
The detective sniffed, then said, "Look. I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but we have pictures. I could arrange for you to see them, but I’ll need Reuter to make an official request. I’m not gonna be responsible for a set-back in your…recovery." He didn’t bother to mask his sarcasm.
Pictures. That was exactly what I’d hoped to hear.
"That would be perfect. Richard will be back on Monday. I’ll talk to him first thing, and we’ll call you."
Hayward said, "You do that," and he hung up.
Corona bounced excitedly. "What’d he say?"
"He said he has pictures."
"Oh, wow. That’s cool."
Lettie was less enthused. "Viv, are you sure you want to look at those?"
"I’m positive," I told her. "I don’t think it’s Colin, but even if it is, I need to know for sure, one way or the other."
I dialed another number on my phone.
Corona asked, "Now who are you calling?"
Ajani answered on the second ring. "Yo," he said.
"Hi, Ajani. It’s Viviane."
Lettie’s eyebrows went up, and Corona nodded knowingly.
"Miss Viviane. How’s it going?" I listened to his voice, his intonation, and his rhythm. He didn’t seem surprised to hear from me.
"As well as can be expected, I suppose. I was just thinking about you and wondering how you were. It’s been a while since I talked to you."
"True dat," he said. "Listen, it sucks about Colin."
"Yeah."
After a short, uncomfortable silence, he said, "The laundry’s chugging right along. They made me supervisor. Did Lettie tell ya?"
"Yeah, she did. You’re the best choice—after me, of course."
"That’s right, damn it, though nobody’s good as you." He paused, then added, "We miss you here."
"That’s sweet of you to say. To be honest, I’m pretty ready to get back to work. If I watch any more Oprah, I’m going to be so well-adjusted I’ll have to change my last name to Boring."
Ajani chuckled deep in his throat, and the sound reverberated across the airwaves. It made me smile, and that made me sad. I'd considered Ajani a friend.
He said, "You need to watch more soaps and telenovellas. Better role models."
"Yeah, I think they’re all that’s saving me right now."
"Look, Viviane, now’s not really a good time for me. Can I call you back later?"
"Why don’t you stop by? Before your shift? I’d love to see you."
"Will they let me in there with all the women?"
"Only if you promise to behave yourself."
"For you, Miss Viviane, I’ll make my best effort. I’ll come by tonight. See you then."
"Thanks, 'Jani." We hung up.
♦
Eventually, Lettie left, and Corona returned to her room. I hadn’t showered that morning, so rather than suffer the attentions of Nurse Bea, I stole away to take one before lunch.
The bathroom sat at the intersection where the hall met the recreation room and nurses’ station. It had four private shower nooks (with curtains, not doors) and six toilet stalls. Sinks lined one side. On the floor, grout moats separated white tiles. They’d been worn down over the years and channeled the water away to the drain. Once a day, the janitorial staff—I used to be one of them—came in and spread bleach around. It reminded me of the old locker room at the high school, except there weren’t any lockers stuffed with smelly gym suits.
I was in no hurry. The shower felt marvelous. I was the only one in there, maybe because it was so late in the morning. The shower curtains didn’t close properly, so it was nice to be alone.
When I was done, I turned off the water, dried myself, and wrapped the towel around my body. I yanked the shower curtain aside and—
—came face to face with her. She was upside-down, dangling from the ceiling. Her long hair hung from her head like dusty swamp moss. My eyes were directly level with her mouth. Her lips pulled back to reveal toothless, blackened gums. The hag.
♦♦♦
CHAPTER 21
I stumbled back, hit the shower wall, slipped, and fell hard on my ass. The hag crawled down the wall to the floor, stalking, and turned right-side up. I opened my mouth to scream, but I had no voice. All I could manage was a choking sound. It—she—came toward me on feet and hands, body naked and angular, back arched upward. Her skin was translucent, colorless. A mist surrounded her. It thickened, obscuring her, then thinned, revealing her in pieces. Her black eyes never left me. The mountain range of her spine was painted by blue rivers of veins and rippled with the upheaval of her muscles. She crawled forward, swinging her hair from side to side and looking up at me from under lashless lids. Her long breasts hung loose, the nipples so gray they
looked as if they'd been dipped in ash.
I tried again to scream, but nothing came out, no matter how hard I forced. The effort hurt my throat and made my head spin. I squeezed back against the wall, pulling my feet under me so I could stand up.
The hag reached a crooked hand out and touched my knee. She caressed me, taking her time, as if she knew I couldn’t get away or call for help. She stood when I stood and slid her body against mine, pressing me against the wall.
My towel had fallen. The hag's skin felt cold and dry against my exposed front. She moved against me as if she wanted me to want her. Horror held me in place and numbed my mind. I couldn’t think. Terror sent the wrong impulses to my brain, and I was far beyond fight or flight.
Her hands moved into the curve of my lower back, down over my bottom, and up along my sides. She cupped one hand over my breast and clasped the other around my throat. She squeezed. The pain broke my paralysis. A wave of anger and disgust washed over me. I shoved hard against her.
She retreated a couple steps, her eyes gone narrow and mean. Then she leaned forward, prepared to strike.
I pointed a finger at her. My voice finally returned, and I said, “Stop,” with all my heart. I felt a flash of heat deep in my gut, down where arousal first ignites. It surged up through my body.
She made another move, a jerky lurch as if to attack.
The energy expanded through me and burst out of me with the force of my will behind it. I faced it and screamed, “Leave me alone!”
The hag’s eyes opened to full moons, and her lips pulled back in a sneer. Then she was gone.
My body tingled all over, electric with…energy. I had no idea what it was, nor why it had worked to chase the hag away. I just knew that she'd been ready to kill me, and I'd stopped her.
My legs gave out, and I slid down the wall again. Like the Red Sea crashing back in, fear and horror crushed me in the wake of my short moment of bravery. I burst into tears.
Unfortunately, that was how Bea found me, and they sedated me again.
The next thing I knew, someone pressed lightly on my shoulder, saying, “Miss Viviane?”
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