by Joanne Fluke
“Congratulations, Jimmy. It sounds like you really turned your life around.”
Jimmy nodded. “Working here helped a lot. The first day I was here, they brought in a kid. He was only fourteen, but he died of an overdose. It made me think, you know? I decided the next time I saw you I’d thank you for busting me. If you hadn’t caught me and sent me away, I could’ve ended up just like that kid.”
“Hey, Jimmy . . . I’m glad everything turned out right.” Doug patted the young man on the back. A cop didn’t get much appreciation. Most of the people Doug arrested were resentful. They accused him of picking on them even though they were breaking the law. Seeing kids like Jimmy, who’d made it in spite of the odds, was the thing that kept him going.
As Doug and Jimmy stepped off the elevator, they heard someone screaming, a woman, her voice high pitched. She sounded frightened, hysterical. Doug increased his pace.
“You hear that, Sergeant Lake?” Jimmy hurried to keep up with Doug’s long strides. “That poor lady’s still screaming. She was screaming when I was down here before.”
Doug turned to him. He might be a valuable witness. “Do you know why she’s screaming?”
“Not exactly. But I heard her say she had to find her boyfriend. She wanted to apologize, or something like that. She started screaming right after we put her in restraints.”
“Did she hurt anyone?”
“I don’t think so.” Jimmy shook his head. “But we’re going to have to get a new window for the morgue. When she found out the door was locked, she picked up a big flower pot and heaved it at the glass.”
“Did she cut herself?”
Jimmy shook his head. “All the glass went inside. I helped the security guys pull her back before she could jump through the window.”
“Good work.” Doug nodded. “Who called security?”
“I did. She came in through emergency, and she looked weird. I could tell there was going to be trouble.”
“What kind of weird? Describe it for me, Jimmy.”
“Well . . .” Jimmy hesitated a moment. “I’d say she was on something. Pupils dilated, rapid breathing, flushed skin. You know what I mean?”
“I know. What do you think it was?”
Jimmy shrugged. “PCP, maybe. She’s not very big, but she was super strong. It took all three of us to hold her down.”
They rounded the corner and Doug saw the broken window. A heavy brass flower pot, still holding a potted palm tree, lay on the tiled floor of the morgue. Jimmy hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said she was strong. “How much does that flower pot weigh?”
“I don’t know, but the janitor can’t move it by himself. That’s why they got that dolly.” Jimmy pointed to the small block of wood with wheels propped up against the wall. “I saw her lift up that tree like it was a feather and toss it through the window.”
As Doug rounded another corner, he saw her. She was a slim, brown-haired woman who would have been pretty under any other circumstances. Even though she had on an old-fashioned straitjacket, it still took two security guards to hold her down.
Jimmy ran toward the security guards, and Doug followed him. He tapped the older security guard on the shoulder, then pointed to Doug. “Chuck? This is Sergeant Lake.”
“Hi.” Doug flashed his badge. “What have you got here?”
“A wildcat.” Chuck was an older black man with salt and pepper hair. He looked worried as he turned to Doug. “If we let her go, she tries to kick us. And she won’t stop screaming.”
The woman looked up at Doug. Her eyes were wide and frightened, and they didn’t seem to be focusing properly. She stared at him for a moment, then started screaming again.
Doug motioned for Jimmy to take Chuck’s place, and they walked down the hall. Chuck unlocked a door to a vacant office. Then they stepped in and closed the door.
“Tell me what happened.” Doug sat on the edge of the desk and pulled out his notebook.
“I don’t know, but it’s a good thing the kid called us when he did. We got here just in time to keep her from going through that window. I hate to think what might have happened if she’d gotten into the morgue.”
Doug nodded. “What time was that?’
“A little after midnight. Tommy and I were just taking our break.”
Doug glanced at his watch. It was almost one. “And she’s been screaming all this time?”
“That’s right. She stops for a couple seconds to catch her breath and then she starts in again.”
“Has anyone given her a tranquilizer?”
“Not yet.” Chick shook his head. “The doctor said he had to wait until you got here. He doesn’t know what she’s on, and he can’t do a blood test unless you arrest her and sign off on the form.”
Doug nodded. It was standard operating procedure. If the woman’s condition wasn’t life threatening, the hospital couldn’t treat her without a signed release form. “Okay, Chuck. Call him and tell him to bring me the form. I’ll arrest her for destruction of property and sign it. And let’s have an orderly bring down a gurney with straps.”
“Okay. You got it.” Chuck used his radio, and a few minutes later an orderly brought a gurney. It took all five of them to strap the woman down, but finally she was rendered immobile. Doug signed the release form. Then the orderly wheeled the woman away, accompanied by Jimmy and the younger security guard.
“What a relief!” Chuck sat down in a chair and stretched his arms. “You wouldn’t think a tiny little thing like her could be so strong. I’m going to wake up with a stiff back tomorrow, I can tell you that!”
“Do you think she was trying to hurt you?”
Chuck thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. “She was just trying to get in that morgue. She thought her boyfriend was in there, and she had to see him.”
“Do you think she was on some kind of drug?”
“I don’t know.” Chuck frowned. “She was grieving for her boyfriend, I can tell you that. And she thought we were keeping her from seeing his body. She was crazy, but I don’t know if it was drugs.”
While he was waiting for the results of the blood test, Doug interviewed everyone who’d come in contact with the woman. He learned that she’d carried no identification and no one knew who she was. Her clothing was expensive and so was her watch, but they provided no clue to her identity. She’d come into the emergency room alone and had followed the signs to the morgue. The cars in the parking lot were all accounted for. Either someone had dropped her off, or she’d arrived by bus or taxi.
It was two in the morning when the blood work came back from the lab, and it was negative. No sign of drugs or disease. Since she was still screaming, the doctor gave her a tranquilizer, and when she was quiet and her vital signs were stable, Doug turned her over to two uniforms for transit to the county jail. Jane Doe, the name they’d given the woman for booking purposes, would be on suicide watch in a private cell. If they were lucky, she’d be able to tell them her real name at her arraignment in the morning.
It was three in the morning when Doug shook Jimmy’s hand and headed for the door. But he stopped and turned back when he remembered that Jill’s husband was a patient. “Hey, Jimmy. My friend’s husband is here. I won’t wake him, but do you think I could take a quick peek?”
“No problem, Sergeant Lake.” Jimmy sat down at the computer. “What’s his name?”
“Neil Bradley.”
Jimmy typed the name on the screen and nodded. “He’s in room five eighteen. Just take the elevator up to the fifth floor and turn left. If anybody gives you any grief, just flash your badge.”
Doug felt a little strange as he rode up in the elevator and walked down the corridor to room five eighteen. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to see Jill’s husband. Perhaps it was just to look at him, to see if there was something in his sleeping face that would provide an answer to why Jill had chosen him. It couldn’t be good looks alone; Jill wasn’t that shallow. There had to be some o
ther reason, and perhaps he’d learn it if he saw his rival in the flesh.
The door to Neil’s room was open and Doug peered in. Neil was in bed, his eyes bandaged, his head in some sort of restraint. His sleeping face was relaxed and appeared younger than the picture on the book cover. As a matter of fact, Neil Bradley looked vulnerable, almost pathetic, and Doug felt ashamed for spying on him.
He was just about to leave when Neil made a sound. He was trying to talk. Doug stepped into the room. If Neil was awake and needed something, he could help him ring for the nurse.
Neil spoke again, a mumbled word, and Doug moved to the bed. Perhaps he needed something?
“Lisa? Where are you? I need you, Lisa!”
Doug nodded. Lisa must be the name of Neil’s nurse. “Just hold on, Neil. I’ll get her for you.”
Doug hurried out of the room and raced to the nurses’ desk. Two nurses were sitting there talking, and the younger one looked up.
“Hi. The patient in five eighteen, Neil Bradley. I just looked in on him, and he’s asking for a nurse named Lisa.”
The younger nurse nodded. “I know. He does that every night. Mr. Bradley’s talking in his sleep.”
“Are you sure he doesn’t need something?”
“We’re sure.” The older nurse spoke up. “I just checked on him a couple of minutes ago. He was sleeping like a baby.”
Doug raised his eyebrows. “He had me fooled. I really thought he was awake. Is Lisa his day nurse?”
“No.” The younger nurse shook her head. “There’s no nurse on this floor named Lisa. We think he’s asking for his wife.”
“But his wife’s name is Jill.”
The two nurses exchanged surprised glances; then the younger one shrugged. “Lisa could be anyone. He’s dreaming.”
“Okay.” Doug nodded. “Thanks for letting me peek in on him.”
The older nurse smiled. “No problem. You said you were a friend of his wife?”
“That’s right. Jill’s an assistant DA, and I work with her.”
“I wouldn’t mention this to her, Sergeant.” The older nurse looked concerned. “It might hurt her feelings. Lisa could be anyone, a former wife, a sister, a girlfriend. There’s just no way of telling.”
The younger nurse nodded. “This isn’t unusual, Sergeant. Patients say strange things when they’re sedated.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t mention it to her. I’ll just tell Jill I saw him and he was sleeping.”
Doug was thoughtful as he walked to the elevator. Who was Lisa? And why was Neil asking for her, instead of Jill? It was another piece of the puzzle, and he needed to figure out where it fit in.
CHAPTER 9
Connie awoke to a babble of women’s voices. At first, they were all mixed together in some great cacophony, one indistinguishable from the other. She listened for a while. The voices were like the white-noise machine Alan had in the bedroom to block out the sounds of the city so he could sleep. One setting sounded like the ocean, with rhythmic waves crashing against the shore. Another made her think of a breeze sighing through the tall grasses of a field. The third setting was her favorite. It sounded like rain falling gently from the sky, a warm summer rain that made sidewalks fresh and clean and caused flowers to give off their scent.
She might have fallen asleep again, but she woke up when the voices got louder. Had Alan forgotten to turn off the television? It was a very noisy program, but by concentrating on tones and inflections, she found she could focus on an individual speaker.
“Should’a killed him when I got the chance, him and that woman in Mama’s bed, both of them naked as jaybirds. All’s I done was cut him up a little, and they drug me down here. ’S not fair.”
Connie frowned. Was this the television, or was she dreaming? And then there was another voice, high pitched like a little girl’s.
“I wasn’t even working, you know? I was just sitting at the bus stop when this guy in a shiny white Lincoln pulls up. He says he wants to party, and he waves a hundred at me. How am I supposed to know he was setting me up?”
Connie opened her eyes, and she saw the bars. At first she thought they were some sort of gate, but then someone else spoke.
“Just ask if he’s a cop. They gotta tell you. If they don’t, it’s entrapment.”
“Oh, yeah?” It was the girlish voice again. “If you’re so smart, what are you doing in here?”
“I asked and he didn’t tell me. That’s why the judge is gonna let me walk. I know my rights. You just watch and see.”
Connie shuddered. Those bars weren’t part of a gate. She was in jail! But what had she done? Everything was a blank. She sat up on the narrow bench that had served as her bed and looked down at her clothes. Her skirt was filthy, as if she’d been rolling around on the floor, and the sleeve of her green silk blouse was torn.
“So I asks him, why me? He’s the one you should take. And he says maybe that’s true, but there’s a witness that seen me with the knife. It’s gotta be that woman. I’m gonna get her just as soon as I get out.”
It was difficult to stand, but Connie managed to push herself upright. She was in a small cell, no bigger than her closet at the condo, with a toilet and a sink. There was a piece of polished metal over the sink, and she walked toward it, steadying herself against the wall.
When she caught sight of her reflection, she almost fainted. Her hair was matted with something that smelled horrible. There was a scratch on the side of her face, and her eyes looked puffy, as if she’d been crying. On the inside of her left arm was a small purple bruise.
There was a clang and then heavy footsteps approached her cell. Connie turned around to see a tough-looking woman, dressed in a uniform, unlock her door. “Well, Sleeping Beauty. You don’t look so good this morning. What do you say we get you cleaned up?”
Connie didn’t know what to say. This woman must be a prison guard, and she didn’t want to alienate her. She just nodded and tried to smile.
“They told me you were a wildcat last night. You’re not going to try anything, are you, honey?”
Connie swallowed hard and found her voice. “No. I won’t. I promise.”
“Good.” The guard smiled. “You cooperate with me and everything’ll be just fine. Turn around and back up toward me. Take it nice and slow.”
Connie turned and started to step back, but she lost her balance and had to catch herself against the wall. “I . . . I’m sorry. I’m dizzy.”
“That’s okay. Just stand right there and I’ll come to you.”
Connie leaned against the wall while the guard snapped handcuffs around her wrists. She felt sick and very woozy. “What’s wrong with me?”
“They gave you a shot in the hospital. I’ll get you in the shower and that should help. Just lean on me and walk.”
Connie did her best to proceed, but she had to lean heavily on the guard. She was embarrassed when she stumbled, and she tried to apologize. “I’m sorry. My legs don’t work right.”
“Don’t worry about it. I could carry a little thing like you if I had to. Do you remember your name this morning?”
Connie nodded, but that was a big mistake. When she moved her head, it hurt. “Connie Wilson. I’ve got my driver’s license in my purse.”
“Sorry, Connie. You didn’t have any personal effects when they brought you in.”
Connie frowned. “My purse is gone?”
“That’s right. Come with me now. We’re going to walk down this hall to the door at the end.”
The tiled hallway seemed endless, but somehow they made it. The guard steadied her against the wall and unlocked the door with a key. She helped Connie through and motioned for her to sit down on a bench.
“This isn’t the Hilton, but it’ll have to do.” The guard opened a locker and took out a blue cotton dress. “I’m going to put you under the water so you can wash some of that gunk out of your hair. Then I’ll help you dress in these clean clothes. You don’t have a problem with that, do
you?”
Connie shook her head, and this time it didn’t hurt quite as much. “No. Thank you very much.”
“That’s got to be a first!” The guard actually grinned. “Nobody’s ever thanked me before.”
Connie tried not to blush as the guard helped her out of her clothes and led her to the shower stall. The woman unlocked Connie’s handcuffs, turned on the water, and handed her a bar of soap. “Can you handle it, or do you need help?”
“I think I can do it.” Connie nodded.
“Okay. I’ll leave the door open. If you need help, just holler for me.”
Connie gasped as she stepped under the stream of water. It was cold, but it seemed to clear her head. As memories came rushing back, tears rolled down her cheeks, along with the streams of water. Alan was dead, and she’d lost their baby. But why was she here, in jail?
It hurt to wash her hair, and her arms ached, as if she’d lifted a heavy weight. But Connie managed to get it done. There was no shampoo, so she used the bar of soap. She noticed other bruises on her body, some on her legs that looked like finger marks and several more on her arms.
When she was through, the guard handed her a towel. Connie shivered as she wrapped it around her body. She was cold and she felt sick, but her mind seemed to be working again.
“Feeling better?” The prison guard led her over to the bench again.
“Yes, thank you.”
“Good.” The guard smiled again. “Hold out your arms and I’ll help you dress.”
Connie felt like a child as the woman dressed her in a white cotton bra and panties. The blue prison dress was shapeless and had no belt, but it was clean, which was an improvement over her own dirty clothes. She even got a pair of slippers with rubber soles—a size too large, but Connie could walk in them.
“You’re all set. And I got to say, you look a hundred percent better.” The prison guard put down the comb she’d used on Connie’s hair, then snapped the handcuffs back on. “You’re not up for another thirty minutes, but you can wait in the holding area.”
