by Liz Schulte
I swallowed hard, thinking of all of Jack and my not-so-secret rendezvous in the stairwell. Surely the deputy wouldn’t call me down here to yell at me about that. When I was about ready to hide my face, something caught my eye in the corner of the screen. A flicker or a flutter. Then Bee walked into view and static lines rolled across the screen—but I could still make her out. She was moving perfectly. She trotted off camera and I looked at the deputy.
“Keep watching.”
I looked back as the camera switched views, and I saw her returning, along with the static. She moved like she hadn’t a pain in the world. I recognized the chained door in the stairwell. Bee stood in front of the doors. I waited, but nothing else happened.
“Can you explain this, Ryan?”
“What night was it?”
“Last Wednesday night.”
“Is this all the video?”
“Yes, she stares at the door until she’s found by the nurses. Can you confirm this is your aunt?”
“Ms. Sterling isn’t confirming anything,” Aiden said.
I shook my head. “It’s very strange, but I don’t know what to tell you. I should probably go back.” I started for the door, but the deputy stopped me.
“What are you hiding, Ryan?” he asked.
“Nothing. What makes you think I know anything at all?”
“You don’t have much of a poker face.” I rolled my eyes. “Let’s talk. Off the record.”
I huffed out a breath and looked at Aiden. He nodded so I agreed.
Aiden put his hand on my arm as I followed Deputy Perry outside. “I’ll be right in here.”
I joined the deputy on a bench in front of the building. “I know that’s your aunt in the video and I think you do too. However, it isn’t clear enough to use as evidence.”
“Evidence of what? Her sleepwalking? If it is her, what has she done that’s illegal? Do you have video of her attacking those women?”
“No. There was a camera malfunction.”
“Then I’d say you don’t have a case.”
Perry rubbed above his left eye, where a thin scar stretched from his eyebrow to his hairline. “A few years ago something similar happened. A patient, who was for all medical purposes an invalid, got up in the middle of the night and attacked a sleeping floor with a scalpel. It took five officers, including myself, to bring down that sick, dying man.”
I studied my hands.
“I saw hints of her personality switch myself, Ms. Sterling. And you’re more on edge each time I see you. I think there’s a lot you’re not telling me.”
“Bee would never hurt anyone.”
“Ryan.”
I licked my lips. “It’s crazy.”
A faint smile tilted his lips. “It’s St. Michael’s.”
“I honestly cannot believe that Bee killed those women, but I do think something’s happening to her. She’s somehow connected to the hospital and not in a good way. I’m looking into transferring her.” I explained the ghostly encounters, the multiple personalities, and the light that night on the ninth floor.
“What are you saying? You think she’s possessed?”
I hadn’t put a word to what I thought, and I shuddered hearing it. “Sometimes, maybe.”
“And the nurses?”
I looked away, focusing on a piney looking bush with little yellow flowers. “I don’t know. Peggy told me that Bee was sleepwalking, and Leigh started to tell me something about the ninth floor but never finished it.”
“You spoke with Leigh too?”
I nodded. “Aiden doesn’t think any of this is …” I struggled for the right word, “paranormal. He thinks it’s a person. Someone’s been leaving me letters.”
“Yes, I know about your situation.” Perry cracked his knuckles and looked out at the parking lot. “Officially I can’t investigate any of this.”
“Why?”
“Your family cut the local police out of the stalking matter a long time ago, and St. Michael’s is off limits. The more attention people give it, the worse things get.”
I crossed and uncrossed my legs.
“Unofficially, if I were you, I’d get myself and everyone I loved out of St. Michaels.”
I stood up. “I left my brother upstairs. I should go.”
He looked like he wanted to say something else so I lingered for a moment. “Ryan, why you?”
“What do you mean?”
“If I were investigating this, which I’m not, I’d start with asking why whatever is happening has targeted you. Once you know that, you might be able to stop it.”
I hadn’t thought about it like that—but everything happening was connected to me in some way. “Do you know something you aren’t telling me?”
He rubbed his jaw. “I really can’t say.”
I scowled.
He sighed and walked over to me. “You should talk to your family.”
“I’m really sick of people telling me that. Who is Samantha Cobb?”
His eyes drilled into mine, but he shook his head. “I have a family to support, Ryan. I can’t lose my job. I’m sorry. Start with your family. That’s all I can tell you.”
I went back inside to where Aiden was sitting. “Enough is enough. Tell me what everyone but me knows.”
He walked me to the elevator, and we got on. In between floors, he stopped it. “You were kidnapped as a child. That’s when all of this started. You were gone for two weeks before they found you. The woman who took you killed herself.”
I stared at him. I didn’t remember it at all. “How old was I?”
“Four. A couple years later, the letters started arriving and—”
“I was sent away.”
He nodded. “With protection.”
“How does the hospital fit in?”
The alarm on the elevator started chiming. Aiden released the stop and we jerked back into motion. “I don’t know.”
Back on the tenth floor, I was lost in my thoughts. Where had Peggy been when she fell? Who had access to the security videos? Did Deputy Perry know about Mrs. Simpson—and had she really died of natural causes? And what about the window washer? Did all those deaths connect back to me?
Blair was still in my chair reading, but to himself now. He glanced up and I waved.
“You must’ve gone to New York for that soda,” he said when I sat on the window ledge.
“Sorry. I got sidetracked. How was Bee?”
“Quiet. I read to her until she fell asleep.”
“And I see you’re still reading.”
“It’s really good.”
“I know.” I twirled my hair around my finger and watched Bee’s chest rise up and down. Aiden’s theory was so much more likely than possession, but I’d definitely seen her walking like it was nothing on that tape. I thought about Mrs. Simpson and her strange behavior too. I ran a hand over my forehead.
“Still have a headache?” Blair looked concerned.
“Yeah.”
“Why don’t you go home? I have things handled here.”
I wanted to, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t leave my little brother in this place alone. “Why don’t you come too? I’ll leave Bee a note.”
“You want to leave before visiting hours are over? You really aren’t feeling well, are you?”
“Just for today.”
“Okay.” He sat the book on the table and stood up. I rummaged through my purse for a piece of paper and left a short note saying we’d be back bright and early the next morning.
Our cars were parked in opposite directions. When Blair was out of earshot, I called Aiden.
“Hello?”
“Hi. It’s Ryan. I have a favor to ask.”
“Yes?”
“Do you think you can get me onto the ninth floor?”
His teeth clicked for moment before he spoke. “Now why, after everything we talked about today, would you still want to go there?”
“Even if none of this is supernatural, I’m s
omehow, some way connected to that floor. Everything keeps pointing me there. I need to see it. I don’t know why, but I think it’s important.”
The mental picture of the fallen lock replayed over and over in my mind. No matter how many plausible explanations Aiden came up with for some of the recent happenings, he couldn’t change the fact that a lot were unexplainable.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Chapter 20
I stretched my legs out and placed my laptop on the pillow on my lap. I pulled up Google and typed “possession” in the search field. I scrolled through the page of definitions and links to movies, books, and generally un-useful information.
Of course, Ryan, because possessions aren’t real.
I looked at the alternative search options at the bottom and clicked on demonic possession. This was more what I was looking for. I read a few sites but avoided the video. Something about it seemed wrong, like I was inviting something I didn’t want to mess with into my life. Even reading the Bible verses about possession made me nervous. I hadn’t noticed any bite marks or scratches on Bee, but I hadn’t really looked either. She didn’t have convulsions, but she was throwing fits. She certainly hadn’t spoken in tongues. I chewed my fingernails as I forced myself to continue to read. Holy symbols … I wracked my mind. I couldn’t think of any in her room, so I made a mental note to pick up a cross or something just to test the waters. I laughed. What was I doing? This was crazy.
“Absurd.” I deleted the search and typed in “Samantha Cobb.” This time I got a few Facebook links, but it didn’t take long to find what I was looking for. My kidnapping made national news. There were pictures of me being carried by my father, my face buried in his shoulder, clutching that same broken doll I received in the first package. I read the articles, but they were vague as to why I was taken. However, they did solve one mystery. The police found me and Samantha on the ninth floor of St. Michael’s. She jumped before she could be taken into custody.
I closed my laptop and shook my head. Both dogs looked up at me with tilted-head concern before lying back down. This was all sick. Needing to clear my head and talk to someone wholly unconnected to any of it, I called Audra.
“Hello there. How’s your aunt?” she answered.
“Worse.”
“I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
“No. Just wanted to talk.” And talk we did—for nearly two hours. I told her about my family, Jack, and Briggs. When I finished talking about Briggs and why he’d left, she didn’t say anything, which was totally unlike her. Audra always had an opinion.
“So what do you think?”
“You sort of have me in a hard position here. If I say you should dump his dumb ass and then you take him back, I’m the asshole. If I say you should give him another chance and he hurts you again—yep, you guessed it. Still the asshole.”
I laughed. “So in other news, I think I’m being stalked and my aunt is possessed.”
“Huh. Has she spewed vomit at you?”
“Ew. No.” I filled her in on the latest, and this time I didn’t have to wait for her opinion.
“That is some messed up shit. Are you going to move her? How strange. No wonder you’re considering taking Briggs back. Everything else in your life is in upheaval. Briggs has always been your steadying point.”
She wasn’t wrong. “Yeah, maybe.”
“You don’t sound sold on the idea of taking him back. That’s hopeful.”
“I don’t know how I feel about him anymore. Honestly, I’m sort of feeling like both of the guys are more trouble than they’re worth right now. I have enough going on.”
“I have some vacation time. I could come there.”
“Good Lord, no. I wouldn’t even have time to hang out with you. Save your visit for when we can actually spend time together.”
“Okay, but if you change your mind, I’m just a phone call away.”
“I know. Talk to you later.”
“Later.” I hung up the phone, feeling a little bit better. I was letting old stories about the hospital and my past get to me, and I wasn’t thinking clearly. I would get to the bottom of all this, Aiden and I would catch the stalker, and Bee would be fine once she was in a place that didn’t scare us both senseless. Satisfied with my decision, I went down to the store to hang out with Vivian. We had a couple customers browsing.
“Hey, you. What are you doing here?” Vivian flashed me a pearly white smile.
“Blair and I left early today.”
She looked at me sympathetically. “Another bad day? We could get ice cream and wine and veg out on the couch tonight.”
“As fun as that sounds, I have a date with Briggs.”
Vivian huffed. “I moved in with you for your company, not your dogs’.”
We made light chitchat until the customer checked out. The woman stared at me while Vivian rang her up.
“You’re Ryan Sterling, aren’t you?”
“In the flesh.”
“Is it true?”
“What?”
“You know, about the hospital.”
Was she talking about Samantha Cobb? “What about it?” I asked in a clipped voice.
“You were born there.”
I frowned. “No, I wasn’t.”
Vivian handed her a bag and the receipt. The woman left, looking back over her shoulder a few times. I pressed my lips together, trying to figure out how to phrase the question I wanted to ask. “Viv, how much do you know about Goodson Hollow?”
She shrugged. “What’s to know?”
I told her about the scrapbook and what I’d found out about the hospital. I didn’t mention Aiden, Samantha, or that any of this might have something to do with me personally. I did, however, tell her some of the stories I’d heard about what happened there.
She opened a bottle of water and took a swig, leaving a pink ring of lipstick behind. “And the scrapbook has articles about all of this?”
“Not really. It has a lot of random bits about the hospital, but last night at dinner someone mentioned that Goodson Hollow goes to great lengths to cover everything up. I’m beginning to think that might not be stretching the truth too much.”
“Well, at least one of those stories would be pretty easy to check out.”
I moved over to one of the tables and started refolding perfectly folded sweaters, just needing to do something. “Which one?”
“If all the babies died, then all we have to do is check yearbooks. If there was a class then we can assume it’s an exaggeration. And if that story is blown out of proportion, maybe they all are.”
*
Briggs arrived a few minutes early, looking as handsome as ever in jeans, a thin black sweater, and a gray sports coat. He handed me a bouquet of tulips—my favorite flower. I introduced him to Vivian and we were on our way. Briggs opened the car door for me and drove down Main Street.
“Where are we going?”
He smiled. “To my place.”
“Oh, really?”
He nodded. “I went to the grocery store. I thought we could cook, watch a movie, have some wine, and talk about things. I figured you’d appreciate low key.”
Low key actually sounded perfect. But perfect wasn’t what we discussed. “Aren’t we supposed to be doing things you like?”
He shook his head. “The thing is, I do like doing this. I didn’t like being a lawyer.”
“So you’re just not going to work?” I tried to keep my voice from sounding judgmental, but I was judging him just a little. He couldn’t not have a job.
“Not necessarily. But we aren’t talking about that yet.”
“You’re being very mysterious. I sort of hate mystery at the moment though. Please just tell me what’s going on.”
He took my hand and kissed the back of it. “All in good time, Ace.”
I smiled despite myself. It had been months since Briggs called me Ace. It was a nickname he gave me when we were in school. He didn’t
use it a lot, but when he did, it was always affectionate. I decided to play along. A night hanging out with Briggs like old times was definitely the best way to get my mind off of reality.
I looked around the tiny cabin he was renting on the lake. It was cute and cozy. The lake outside of the windows glistened like an endless pool of shadows, absorbing the moonlight into its nothingness. As much as I tried, however, I couldn’t stop thinking about everything. What if I had been born in St. Michael’s? What did that mean? What would it have to do with the stalker or the people who died?
“Do you like it?” Briggs came up behind me.
“What?” I asked, turning away from the window.
“The house.”
“Cute. Rustic.”
He laughed. “It came furnished.”
“I see. So what are we making?”
“Red curry.”
I knew the recipe well. I loved it and Briggs knew that. He wanted to fall into old patterns, and while that was so tempting, it didn’t work—that much was obvious. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss this like crazy, but having it and knowing it couldn’t last hurt more. When the meal was finished, we sat down on the couch and he poured two large glasses of wine.
“Okay, so tell me your plan. I know you have a plan.”
“Last night I told you I had a business meeting.” I nodded. “I met with your father.”
I practically choked on my wine. “Why?”
He handed me a napkin. “I spoke with him about buying the newspaper.”
He could’ve knocked me over with a feather. “Why would you do that?”
“Your father definitely wasn’t against it. He said that so long as I had your blessing, he’d sell to me. He thought it was something you might like to run someday, if you came back.”
I took another rather large swallow of wine. I vaguely remember telling my father that I was on the high school newspaper staff. Did he really buy a newspaper for me or was it to cover up whatever was happening at the hospital? “Okay. But that doesn’t explain why you’d want it.”
“I don’t like being a lawyer, but I did like that business internship I did. I thought that we could run it together. I would handle the staffing and distribution side of things, and you could handle the reporting side. That way we could work together—I’m always better with you—and you could still stay here and get reacquainted with your family.”
