Deadly Institution

by Holly Copella

  Neither Jacey nor Maxwell said a word while staring at Asher. Jacey had heard Asher tell the story of his wife’s death on more than one occasion, and it chilled her each time she’d heard it.

  Asher studied Maxwell and smiled oddly. “I would’ve died one hundred times if it would’ve saved her.” His smile twisted into something more sinister. “I’d have killed a dozen men if it would’ve brought her back.”

  Maxwell inhaled deeply and shifted in his chair. “She was a lucky woman to have been so loved.”

  “No,” he said softly and with bitterness. “I let her down.” His eyes returned to the coffee table. “I should’ve been there to save her; I should’ve perished with her.” His eyes then lifted, and he looked into Jacey’s eyes with a strange seriousness. “That will never happen again.”

  Asher then smiled and looked at Maxwell. He stood from the sofa with the use of his elegant cane, leaned toward Maxwell, and extended his hand. Maxwell stood as well and accepted his hand with uncertainty.

  “It was a pleasure, Maxwell. Stop in again sometime.” He released Maxwell’s hand and turned toward Jacey with his usual, warm smile. “Get your girls and go home. I’ll be fine on my own. I’d really like to be alone anyway.” He kissed her on the cheek then limped from the room in the direction of his bedroom.

  Jacey watched him disappear into his bedroom just down the hall and shut the door. She rubbed her chilled arms then smiled nervously at Maxwell.

  “Do you think he’ll be okay?”

  “Probably not,” he replied then looked at her with a tiny smile. “But he’ll survive.”

  She looked at her watch and sighed gently. “Nearly one A.M. I should take you home while I’m still alert enough to drive.”

  †

  Jacey’s jeep pulled up to the front of the institution a little after one in the morning. Maxwell and Jacey walked in silence toward the front door. Maxwell opened the door and allowed Jacey to enter the dimly lit foyer then followed after her. Timon appeared in the lounge with a bowl of popcorn in his hands. He paused when he saw them then smiled and laughed loudly with great humor.

  “You are in so much trouble,” Timon said to Maxwell. “If Angela doesn’t kill you, I’m sure Brian will.”

  Maxwell frowned and rolled his eyes. “Where are the girls?” he asked sternly.

  “Locked in one of the padded cells,” he said with a laugh. “They got a little out of hand.”

  Maxwell didn’t appear humored.

  Timon snorted with annoyance. “You’re certainly sour tonight,” he snapped. “They’re sleeping in the west wing somewhere. Professor is close by. They’re safe, I promise.” Timon then walked away and grumbled something under his breath.

  “I suppose we should look for them,” Maxwell said with a weary sigh. “It’s a large wing.”

  “There’s no point,” Jacey said and wearily raked her fingers through her hair. “I’m sure they’re fine wherever they’ve locked themselves. I’ll come back in the morning for them.”

  “If you’re not going to take them home then why not stay?” he asked then immediately fidgeted to his comment. “I mean, there are plenty of beds to be found. No one will care if you spend the night.”

  She forced a weary smile. “I think I’ll take you up on that offer.”

  “I’ll take you to one of the rooms in the west wing,” Maxwell announced pleasantly with a boyish grin. “There are some musty smelling sheets in the linen closet.”

  They found the west wing on the second try and stopped in the first floor linen closet. Maxwell removed some sheets for her, and they approached the closest room. Maxwell checked the door and made certain it wasn’t electronically locked. He opened the door, turned on the light, and looked over the bland, cramped room. It resembled a slightly more cheerful prison cell. At least the walls weren’t made of stone or concrete.

  “Not exactly the presidential suite,” he teased with a tiny smile. He checked the lock again just to be sure. “Don’t want you getting locked inside.”

  They entered the room and approached the small bed. He helped her with the sheets. Once they’d finished, she walked with him to the door. He opened it and turned to face her with a timid, boyish grin. Jacey found his boyish charm refreshing and returned the smile. As she stared at him, she suddenly felt a strange attraction toward him. She fidgeted and tried not to stare.

  “You won’t have any problems with Angela, will you? I don’t want to get you in any trouble.”

  Maxwell appeared humored and laughed softly. “No, it’s not like that at all. Timon likes to over-dramatize.” He appeared to consider. “He’s very good at it.” He stared into her eyes a brief moment then smiled warmly. “Good night, Jacey. I’ll return to wake you in the morning.”

  Jacey held her breath while staring into his eyes with a soft look. “It meant a lot to me,” she whispered softly.

  He tilted his head as if confused. “What did?”

  “Your kindness toward Asher,” she said gently. “He was serious. Most people in this town are afraid to even look at him or utter his name. He really enjoyed himself tonight, I could tell.”

  Maxwell smiled more naturally. “You’re really fond of him, aren’t you? No matter what the popular opinion.”

  She nodded in response. “I love him like my own father,” she said softly.

  Jacey placed her hands on his hand and kissed him quickly on the cheek. When she pulled back, he held her fingers firmly and stared into her eyes with a look of surprise. His smile brightened considerably and some color rose to his cheeks. Without hesitation, he lifted her hand and kissed the back of it with warmth and affection. When he pulled away, he contained his boyish grin and backed to the door. He released her hands and fumbled for the doorknob.

  “Good night,” he half whispered then slipped from the room.

  Jacey stared at the closed door a long moment with her mouth hanging open. She shut her mouth and gently caressed her hand that he’d kissed. She could still feel his warm lips on the back of her hand.

  “My God,” she gasped softly then sighed romantically.

  †

  Roseanne’s small ground floor apartment was cozy and quaint despite its odd location alongside the alley. It was almost two in the morning. Roseanne, in her white nightgown, turned over in bed and lay on her back a moment while groaning with disgust. The night was damp from all the rain, and a gentle breeze through the open window chilled her. She looked at the bedside clock, saw the time, and rolled her eyes. She finally got up and closed the old, single pane window. She wearily walked out of her bedroom while raking her fingers through her mussed hair. Roseanne passed through the living room and entered a small sitting room to the right of her old, worn apartment. She sat at a small, cluttered desk and opened the bottom drawer that was piled with old papers, files, and various objects of no value. She removed an envelope containing a copied note created from tiny, cutout newspaper letters. She scanned over the paper then carefully folded it and placed it inside the envelope without an address on it. She removed three instant photos from the back of the drawer and shuffled through them.

  “What had you so upset that night?” she whispered softly while studying the photos. “If I only knew what you’d found.”

  There was a sound from the back yard near her apartment. Roseanne jumped slightly then groaned and shook her head. She stood, removed a book from the shelf and placed the envelope and photos in the book. She returned the book to the shelf then went to the kitchen and found some pills in the cupboard. She was about to take the pills when there was a faint knock on the door. Roseanne jumped with surprise and turned toward the door.

  “Who the hell could that be,” she muttered and walked toward the door.

  She pulled back the curtain and looked outside. There was no one there, just the dark alley. Roseanne raised a skeptical brow and allowed the curtain to fall back into place. She looked at the locked door then hastily placed the dead bolt across it. She seem
ed a little more anxious than usual tonight. Roseanne remained still a moment longer and stared at the door. She finally relaxed, approached the sink, and took her pills. She walked back into the bedroom and paused just inside the dark room. She suddenly stopped and stared with surprise at the open window as the curtains blew gently inward. Her mouth slowly opened with concern. She quickly turned for the bedroom door. It suddenly slammed shut. Roseanne let out a startled scream and bolted for the open window. She was suddenly grabbed from behind and was tackled face first onto the bed. The intruder was on top of her. She attempted to fight her attacker while screaming, but she was pinned face down on the bed. She had no leverage and her screams were partially muffled from the covers. A cloth was suddenly placed over her nose and mouth. Roseanne struggled but rapidly became weak. Her body went limp.

  †

  Jacey tossed under the musty smelling sheets in the creepy institution chamber. Her pleasant dream changed into a horrible nightmare, causing her to jerk with a slight gasp as she clutched the sheets. Jacey looked around the plain, dark room with some disorientation. She suddenly remembered where she was. A chill swept over her, and she rubbed her cold arms while sitting up in the musty, old bed. She finally sighed and ran her trembling fingers through her hair. The nightmare seemed to stick with her several minutes after she’d been awake and her unpleasant sleeping quarters didn’t help minimize the effects. She heard movement from the corridor then became still and listened a moment longer, questioning if it was someone else unable to sleep. A small part of her feared it was the ghosts of the mental patients who died in the fire, even if it was a silly notion. She didn’t believe in ghosts. The footfalls grew louder, but they seemed slow, as if someone were pausing for some reason. She didn’t believe in ghosts, but she did believe in crazed, psycho killers! Jacey quietly slipped out of the bed, wearing just her shirt and underwear, and crept toward the door.

  There was no lock on the inside of the door, which didn’t ease her concerns any. She listened to the person walking the hallway then heard the footfalls stop. She could hear the metal slide window open on several doors along the hall. It was possibly the most chilling sound she’d ever heard. Jacey held her breath and firmly grasped the doorknob with both hands while remaining to the side of the door. She heard the person within the corridor continue to walk along the hallway with the metal window sliding open and close on each door. She looked at the small window then to the unmade bed just across the small room. She bit her lip nervously. What was the person in the hall looking for? Jacey could hear the footfalls stop just before her door. She looked at the small window on the door inches from her face. The metal covering slid open and light from the hallway flooded into the room. Jacey held her breath as her heart pounded wildly and attempted not to gasp. She didn’t know who it was, nor did she want to find out. She heard a series of beeps alongside the doorknob. There was an electronic click and the door handle vibrated in her hands. Jacey gasped softly. The footfalls walked away from her door. She waited what seemed a lifetime until the footfalls faded away then turned the doorknob. The door wouldn’t open! She jerked on it several times then collapsed against it. A million thoughts on how to handle her situation raced through her head, but only one seemed logical. Jacey pounded on the door and screamed hysterically.

  Chapter Twelve

  Jacey woke in the creepy institution bedroom to an electronic humming sound. Her eyes opened from where she sat, fully dressed and huddled in the corner by the door. The door opened. She nervously sprang to her feet and clutched her shoe in a deadly fashion. Maxwell stepped into the room with a look of concern then jumped when he saw her standing in the corner with her shoe.

  “What happened?” he demanded. “Why was your door locked from the outside?”

  Jacey sighed with relief, closed her eyes, and threw her arms around his neck. She clung to him and buried her face into his white, lab coat. His arms uncertainly tightened around her waist, but his concern was evident.

  “Are you alright?” he asked then looked around the room for signs of trouble.

  She trembled against him as tears filled her eyes. “I--I don’t know. Someone locked me in.” She sniffed. “I was so afraid they’d come back.”

  Maxwell gently rubbed her shoulder reassuringly. “But who would do that?”

  She sniffed and lifted her head to meet his eyes. A look of fear suddenly swept over her. “The girls! Where are they?”

  Maxwell searched her eyes. “I--I don’t know. On this wing somewhere.”

  Jacey pulled away from him and ran into the corridor. “We have to find them.”

  Maxwell ran after her.

  “Monique! Coleen!” She ran along several corridors until she didn’t know where she was. “Monique! Coleen!”

  There was pounding from one of the rooms just a couple of doors down the hall. Jacey ran toward the room with Maxwell on her heels. She attempted to open the door while both girls screamed hysterically.

  “Let us out,” they cried out.

  Maxwell moved Jacey aside and pressed a series of numbers into the panel near the door. There was the familiar electronic hum, and he was able to open the door. Both girls ran from the room and hugged Jacey.

  “We heard you calling, but the door was locked,” Monique proclaimed.

  There was a thump on the door next to theirs. “Uh, hello,” came Professor’s monotone voice from the room next to theirs. “I seem to be locked in here. Could someone let me out?”

  Maxwell hurried to Professor’s door and unlocked it with the same code. He opened the door to reveal Professor standing in the doorway with his arms folded across his chest and a stern look upon his face.

  “Oh, ha--ha, very funny,” he growled. “Don’t you ever do that again.”

  “It wasn’t me,” Maxwell protested.

  “It’s always the quiet ones,” Professor snapped and left the room.

  †

  Everyone had gathered within the massive kitchen. They had cups of coffee before them while most sat at the large table. Doc scratched his gray beard and shook his head while pacing before Jacey, who remained huddled over her cup of tea. Monique and Coleen seemed even less interested in their hot chocolate.

  “I don’t understand why someone would lock you in those rooms.” He looked at Timon and raised his brows. “Anyone want to own up to this prank?”

  Timon appeared horrified or possibly insulted. “I wouldn’t do something like that,” he protested. “Not to the ladies. Professor, maybe, but certainly not them.”

  Doc frowned and looked around. “What are the chances someone slipped into the building last night?”

  Maxwell shook his head and appeared bewildered. “For what possible reason? Nothing in here would be of any value to someone from town. Particularly nothing in the west wing.”

  “Someone may have been trying to scare you,” Jacey announced. “I wouldn’t put it past some people in town.”

  Angela clucked her tongue with disgust and sneered. “How pathetic.”

  “She could be right,” Doc replied.

  “A few people were giving us the hairy eyeball in the diner yesterday,” Timon remarked. “With the looks we were getting, I certainly wouldn’t trust them.”

  “The front door remained unlocked all night,” Maxwell said with a defeated sigh. “I just never thought to lock it.”

  “From now on, that door is locked and the gates will be closed after everyone’s inside,” Doc said firmly. “No more sleeping in the patients’ wing either.”

  “Guess it wouldn’t do any good to call the police on the matter,” Brian said with a sigh.

  “We could inform them,” Jacey suggested. “But there’s nothing they can do about it.”

  “Probably just stir the town more,” Professor said lowly. His eyes widened dramatically as he raised his voice to a high shrill and waved his hands. “Oh, it’s the curse! Shut the building down! Burn the scientists!”

  “You’re right,” Doc
said. “It’d do little good to notify the police presently. Keeping the building locked should keep the trespassers out.”

  They began to disperse from the huge kitchen. Jacey finally stood and sighed deeply.

  “Come on, girls, we have horses to feed,” she announced softly while frowning.

  Maxwell studied her from where he stood at the counter alongside Professor while finishing his tea. Brian approached Jacey and smiled sympathetically.

  “How’s your friend doing?” he asked gently.

  “He was his usual self by late evening and insisted we leave,” she replied.

  Brian looked at Maxwell, who promptly crossed the kitchen and left. He looked back at Jacey and smiled pleasantly.

  “Glad to hear,” Brian announced. “So how about dinner tonight? You pick the restaurant.”

  Jacey forced a smile but really wasn’t in the mood. “Thank you, Brian, but I’m not leaving Monique and Coleen alone again. Last night was enough to frighten me for a while,” she announced. “But if you want, the four of us could go somewhere.”

  Brian appeared to consider her remark and managed a smile. “I’m not sure I could entertain three ladies at once. What do teenage girls like to do?”

  “I’d say most teenagers like to hang out at malls, but Monique and Coleen like to ride.”

  “Ride? Ride what?”

  Jacey laughed at his question. “Horses, silly.”

  A look of concern swept over his face. “Horses? I haven’t ridden in twenty years.”

  Professor slowly inched his way closer to them. “Did you, uh, mention horseback riding?”

  Jacey looked at Professor and offered a smile. “Yes, I was just telling Brian about how Monique and Coleen love horses.”

  He put a hand to his chest and blinked dramatically. “I love horseback riding. If there’s a stable nearby, I’d be glad to take them.”

  “They have their own horses at my farm,” Jacey replied.

  Brian scratched his temple with a frown. He was obviously losing interest in the conversation.