Eye of the Nightingale

by R. D. Hunter

  “Three years,” King mused. “That’s roughly when he started working at Sunny Pines.”

  “Ironic, isn’t it?” Jenny said. “What did you find?”

  “Almost everyone employed there has had some kind of serious career setback,”

  he said. “From negligence, to gross negligence to insubordination, most of the staff has been fired or forced to resign at a previous posting.”

  “That fits in with what Nancy told me,” I said. “She’s afraid to speak out about what’s going on there because if she does, no one else will hire her. I bet a lot others are in the same situation.”

  “What if I promised her a posting in one of my other facilities?” King suggested.

  I shook my head, then remembered he couldn’t see it. “I doubt it. She won’t want to move her kids again. The last time she did was tough on them.”

  “Besides,” Michael said, “if you did that it would look like you were rewarding her for her testimony, something judges hate and defense attorney’s love. Makes it look like her testimony was coerced.”

  “So it’s all circumstantial,” King said dryly. “Until someone comes forward with sincere testimony or some other kind of proof is uncovered, we’re stuck. How’re you doing on that front, Ava?”

  I swallowed the bite of pizza in my mouth before speaking. It went down like ash.

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  “Not good,” I admitted. “What happened to Ruby has everyone on edge. They think if they’re seen talking to me or getting too chummy, they’ll end up in the woods themselves one dark, stormy night. Can’t say that I blame them.”

  “You’ve got to keep at it. You’re the only one they’ll open up to.”

  “Don’t you think I’m trying?” I said, my tone rising. “I do my best each and every day to make them more comfortable around me, but I might as well be a leper. Your director and his staff have got them so spooked they wouldn’t come to me if I was the Virgin Mary.” Michael put one hand over mine and I felt his calming presence pour into mine.

  “Explain again why you can’t just fire him and be done with it,” Jenny said, giving me time to recover.

  “Because he’s under contract,” King said. We could all hear the bitterness in his voice. “Part of that contract stipulates he can’t be dismissed without just cause. All he’d have to do is take us to court and his position will be reinstated. After that, even if I ever did have just cause, it looks bad. Like I’m specifically targeting him, which is what he’d say. Before we move on him or any of his staff, we need cold hard evidence of wrong doing.”

  Something occurred to me. “Wait a second. How did you know something was going on at Sunny Pines anyway?”

  “My office received an anonymous letter from someone there. Nothing specific, just vague allegations of wrongdoing with a heartfelt request that we looked into it. So I did. I found that there were a high number of patients making unscheduled trips to the emergency rooms. The reasons cited were falling, misadventure and reactions to

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  medications they had been on for years. It didn’t add up. I knew further investigation was needed.”

  “Well, you were right,” Michael said bitterly. “And here we are, staring at a blank wall for all our trouble.”

  No one spoke as we all silently agreed with him. It was beyond frustrating. People were hurting, dying and in desperate need for something to be done. The ones responsible were secure in their fortress, confidant we wouldn’t be able to break through and they could act with impunity. So far, they were right.

  “I’ll get the proof,” I said. My jaw was clenched and my tone was hard. “No matter what it takes, there has to be someone there who has the guts to speak out. To tell us what we need or point us in the direction we need to go. I’ll find it. I just need more time.”

  “Work fast, Miss Foster,” King said. “I‘m not sure how much time the people at Sunny Pines may have.”

  We were all quiet for a second before Jenny muttered, “Thanks for the ray of sunshine Admiral Dark Cloud.” I hung up the phone before any more could be said.

  King was right. The whole atmosphere around Sunny Pines had changed. Where once it was the home for doom and gloom, brought on from the continued neglect of the residents and the overall deplorable conditions, now it was tense and anxious. I found myself jumping at every little noise, like I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  I knew I had to step up my fact finding game, but my options were limited. None of the residents were in a position to help me. They all felt like their necks would be next on the chopping block if they helped me, and they weren’t far from the truth. It’s only

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  paranoia if it isn’t true.

  Of the staff, I was only close with Nancy and Gary. Gary was too far removed from the situation to provide any real help. Most of the time, he stayed in his rec room, leading residents through a variety of stretches and exercises to help keep their bodies loose and pliable. Anything to stave off old age for as long as possible.

  Even though he was there for our little foray onto the second floor, he wasn’t an expert at providing care. He couldn’t testify with any trained knowledge about what he’d seen.

  I was sure Nancy would do it if she could. But she was stuck with her back against the wall. And even though she genuinely cared for the people under her sphere of influence, she was scared. This job was the only thing keeping her and her kids out of the poor house. Even though she felt terrible about it, she couldn’t endanger it.

  So there I was, something needing to be done and not having any earthly idea what it was. After lunch the next day, I took a little stroll down some of the closed off corridors on the first floor. Jenny had made me promise not to wander off on my own, with Michael in hearty agreement, but I was feeling frustrated and needed to be alone to vent some of my anger.

  The situation was in a tailspin. During the meal, I’d seen Randy smirking my way once or twice. When I caught his eye and held it, he scowled so fiercely I was afraid he was going to rupture a blood vessel. To my credit, he looked away first.

  There were fresh bruises on some of the residents in the dayroom. Nothing substantial. A few black and blue marks on the arms and legs. One on Mr. Paulson’s wrist was vaguely in the shape of a hand grip, but that was it. Any time I broached the

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  subject, he shut down. I was getting nowhere.

  I was so deep in my own pit of misery and frustration, that I didn’t feel the presence coming up behind me until it was too late. One sweaty palm sealed off my mouth while a gorilla-like arm wrapped around my torso, pinning my arms at my sides.

  Coarse facial ear stabbed into my ear as a hoarse voice whispered, “One move, Bitch, and I’ll break you in half.” Donald Lawson had made his move.

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  Chapter Seventeen

  Despite the threat, I instinctively screamed. He didn’t seem to notice though, as my voice barely penetrated the meat curtains of his sausage-like fingers. Even had my arms been free, my wounded hands would have been of little use against the hulking giant. I could barely hold a spoon for the residents.

  He started walking down the deserted hallway, half dragging, half carrying me. I tried wriggling free. Just a little leeway and maybe I could distract him long enough to make a dash for it. I froze, though, when I felt the touch of cold steel against my throat.

  “That’s right, Bitch,” Lawson jeered. “You try to buck, and I’ll use this to trim you down to size. Play nice, and maybe I’ll just take a little off the edges.”

  That last bit was a lie. He had no intention of letting me off easy. He was enjoying this too much. My fear. The taste of revenge. I knew I’d be lucky to survive the next couple of minutes. Or unlucky, depending on how you looked at it. Restraint wasn’t in Donald Lawson’s vocabulary. Once he got started, I was as good as dead.

>   He pulled me into a room I’d never been in before and kicked the door shut

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  behind us. I found myself in a large, open room that was more or less empty except for a single wooden chair set up in the center. I knew in a moment it was meant for me.

  Lawson had planned this. Everything had been set up in advance, which made my chances of escape even lower.

  He dragged me to the chair and plopped me down in it. Then he stood back and fixed me with a nasty grin.

  “Go ahead and scream if you want,” he said. “No one will hear. The whole room is sound proof. They used to use this as a music room. Played instruments, had concerts and what have ya. No one outside here will hear a thing.”

  Now how did he know that? No way he picked that up on his own. Someone had told him. Someone who wanted me gone from the Sunny Pines picture in a more permanent fashion.

  Why hadn’t I stayed closer to the dayroom? Everyone warned me not to strike out on my own. Jenny would be furious with me, assuming I ever got to see her again.

  No, I would get to see her. I’d see them all again. No way this raping, abusive asshole was going to be the end of me. I had too many things to do. Too many people depending on me.

  He must have seen a spark of defiance spring to life in me, because his own smile vanished and the palm of his hand connected hard with the side of my face. I rocked sideways in the chair, but didn’t go down. Pain exploded up the side of my head and there was a ringing in my ear. But at least he hadn’t used the knife.

  “Aren’t ya gonna fight back?” he asked. “Gonna try to run? Maybe hit me with a tray?”

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  “You don’t have to do this, Lawson,” I said, ignoring the taste of blood in my mouth. “Don’t make things worse for yourself. Just let me go and walk away. This can all be over. You don’t really want to hurt me.”

  But he did. I felt it in every pore of his being. He relished the thought of seeing me in pain. It was the driving force behind every move he took.

  His other hand came around to deliver a blow to the other side of my head. I tried to move with the momentum, but it was just too much. I was knocked to the floor and spots danced before my eyes.

  Lawson roughly grabbed me around the shoulders and plunked me back down in the chair. He fixed me with another evil grin. “Still think I don’t want to hurt you?”

  I couldn’t help it. His rage seeped into me, overriding any thoughts of self-preservation. I just wanted to hurt him, as badly as he wanted to hurt me.

  My right hand came around in what I hoped was a vicious right cross, meant to connect with his chin and drive him to the floor like he’d done me. Then I was gonna stomp on him until he begged me for mercy. Until he was broken and bleeding and knew I was the one really in charge.

  He caught my bandaged hand in his powerful grip without seeming to even try.

  Pain flared all the way up into my elbows and I let out a little mew of agony. That made him smile.

  “Does it hurt?” he asked. He bore down and tears sprang to my eyes. I bit my lip to keep from screaming. It would only encourage him.

  Just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore. That I would do anything to make the pain end. We were interrupted. The door behind us opened with a dull creak. The

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  bastard hadn’t even bothered locking it behind him. He was so focused on his new little play toy, me.

  “I think that’s enough, Son,” a voice made of gravel said. Lawson let go and whirled around. With the pain gone, I sunk to the floor in relief, cradling my injured hand as I waited for the throbbing knives to abate.

  “Who the hell are you?” Lawson demanded.

  Good question. Who the hell was it? I opened my eyes wide enough to behold my would-be savior. It was the man in the wheelchair. The one who’d been given me sour looks up on the second floor. He sat there now, calmly surveying the two of us. His bushy eyebrows furrowed together when he saw the state I was in, but other than that, he gave no sign of recognition.

  “Doesn’t matter,” he said. “What matters is that you’d better be on your way and not come back.”

  “And who’s gonna make me, Old Timer? You?” Lawson would have no problem taking this man apart. The fact that he was about seventy and in a wheel chair made no difference to him.

  “Get out of here,” I gasped. “Go get help.” The resident fixed me with a stony glare.

  “Hush now, Missy. I’ll handle this.”

  Lawson took a step forward. “Oh really? And how are you going to ’handle this’?”

  The old man didn’t budge. “Because you’re about to realize what a bad idea this was,” he said in a reasonable tone. “You want to hurt this girl. She wronged you

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  somehow, I’d wager. That’s all well and good. She’s nothing to me.” Wait? What? So much for my rescuer. “But,” he continued, “you haven’t thought this through. I mean, you’ve barely gotten started and here you are already being interrupted. It’s only a matter of time before others come this way too.”

  Lawson froze as he considered this. Slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, a change came over his emotional state. Where once it was just a mass of black hatred and lust for violence, a seed of fear began growing. It started at his very core and blossomed out, until its petals reached far and wide.

  “You told someone, didn’t you?” Lawson said. Was it my imagination, or was there a slight tremble in his voice. “You saw me and you told someone. And now you’re trying to keep me here while the cops are called.”

  The old man shrugged. “Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t. What do you think?”

  Lawson’s fear was now in a near full-on panic mode. He looked around wildly, as if expecting police officers to come out of the walls.

  “I think…I think…Oh God, I don’t know what I think.”

  The old man’s fingers were twitching. To my astonishment, I felt the tempo of Lawson’s panic ebb and flow in time with his movements. Somehow, he was influencing Lawson’s fear; encouraging it, like a musician playing an instrument.

  “Better go, Son,” he said. “Now’s not the time for this.”

  Lawson shook his head furiously. “No. Not the time. But it will be soon.” He looked down at me, his eyes wild with terror and contempt. “It’ll be our time soon.”

  With that, he rushed past the old man, making his wheel chair rock slightly as he did so. Lawson turned towards the back door, and a heavy clang seconds later told me

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  he’d gone.

  My rescuer and I stared at each other for several seconds. I was aware my mouth was open, but that was about it.

  “You all right, Missy?” he asked after a second.

  I managed to nod my head. Then I said something I didn’t think I’d ever say in my life. “You’re…you’re like me. You’re an empath.”

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  Chapter Eighteen

  The next few hours were a blur of activity. The old man, whose name I learned was Jonah Helms, left me to go inform the staff what had happened. Nancy came running immediately to make sure I was all right. My face was burning and puffy where Lawson had hit me. My injured hand he’d tortured me with was bleeding through the bandage, but it quickly stopped. All in all, I’d gotten off light and I knew it.

  The police were called. After interviewing me, they wasted no time in conducting a full search of Sunny Pines and the surrounding area. Lawson was long gone, though.

  Michael was one of the ones who responded, of course, even though it was his day off. I remember the concern on his face as he took stock of my injuries, then the hot blast of anger that came from him when he heard my story.

  “We’ll find him, Ava,” he said through partially clenched teeth. “I’ll call the magistrate and get his bond revoked, then every cop in this part of the state will be o
n the lookout for him.”

  I nodded absently as I watched Nancy clean and rewrap my hand. Michael said

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  some more things before heading out to help with the search, but I was a mess inside and barely heard any of it. Jenny came next. She was just as mad as Michael, but some of it was directed towards me.

  “What were you thinking going off on your own?” she demanded. “I’m supposed to look after you, to watch your back. How can I do that when you’re off by yourself at the other end of the building?”

  “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again,” I said in a dead pan voice. She looked at me suspiciously for a couple seconds and I could feel her gauging my mood.

  “Did something more happen in that room than what you told the boys in blue?”

  she asked. “If it did, it’s okay. You can tell me. We’ll take care of it.”

  Oh boy, she thought I’d been diddled. I shook my head and managed a shaky smile to put her fears at ease. “Something happened, but not what you think,” I said. I glanced around to make sure no one was close enough to overhear. “Jonah, the old man who walked in on Lawson, he’s like me. He’s an empath.” Jenny’s eyes grew wide in shock. “And that’s not all. He did something in there. Something I’ve never heard of before. He somehow, manipulated Lawson’s emotions. He made him so afraid that he tore out of here before he could finish working me over.”

  Jenny let out a low whistle. “Is that even possible?”

  “Apparently it is. I have to ask him about it.”

  “Tomorrow,” she said firmly. “Right now I’m taking you home and putting you to bed. We’ll pick up dinner on the way.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Come on, Mom. Just five more minutes.” Her glare lanced into me and I held up my hands as a show of surrender. “Just kidding. Lead on.”