by Rachel Lucas
I knew it was a big admission coming from her. I sensed from the first time I met her that she was a woman in control, a woman with confidence in her diagnosis and direction. She didn’t admit this lightly.
“So, Caitlyn,” she looked directly at me, “what is she going to do next?”
Chapter Thirty-Two
That was the question of the moment. It was the question I went to bed with every night and woke up with every morning for the past week. How could you possibly predict almost thirty different people?
“Were there any boyfriends? Former lovers?” Dr. Reynolds asked.
I thought the question through before I answered. Again, a simple question but a very complex answer.
“I never knew Lisbeth to have any boyfriends or to even show an interest in men,” I answered as I thought back through our friendship and our many conversations. “I think the molestation when she was a small girl had more of an effect on her than I ever realized. Between that and Barbara…”
“Barbara? Her mother?” Madeline didn’t miss the smallest word or expression in my voice. “What do you mean?”
“Well, Barbara was what most would refer to as a ‘man-hater’,” I tried to explain. “I don’t think I ever heard her say a positive thing about a man.”
“Was she a lesbian?” She questioned.
“Not that I know of,” I shook my head. How could I describe her? “It was almost as though she were asexual. Either that or I was too young and naïve to see her that way. As children we tend to just see people as they are. We don’t start categorizing and labeling people until others start pointing out their differences. She was just a mom to me. Very eccentric, creative, unique, but still a mom.”
“Lisbeth could have picked up her mother’s negative feelings towards men very easily,” the doctor walked over to add a few notes to a notebook she had on a nearby desk. “That along with the traumatic abuse she endured as a child and she was a walking recipe for disaster. And that’s without considering all the other personalities. What about them?”
I gave her a questioning look, trying to follow her line of thinking.
“If Lisbeth didn’t have any boyfriends or lovers that you knew of, what about the other personalities?”
The question took me by surprise and I had to stop for a moment to think about it. Could one of the personalities have had a relationship with someone and the others not known about it? It was a startling thought.
“It’s possible I suppose,” I conceded, “but one thing to consider is that several of the family members are men and they can be very aggressive. I don’t know if they would allow something like that, a normal relationship I mean. Not to mention that with the men it might threaten their masculinity.”
“That’s a good point,” she tapped her ink pen against the binding of the notebook in thought, “what would happen if one of the female personalities were involved intimately with another man and one of the male personalities decided to manifest at that moment?”
“Violence? Murder?” It wasn’t hard to see how something like that could escalate into a terrible situation. “There were the earlier murders we think she committed, the ones before Barbara died. We don’t know what triggered those events. We’ll have no way of knowing until we can find her and ask her.”
“Which brings us back full circle,” Madeline walked over to look at the evidence that had been gathered so far on the case. She must have felt like I did; hoping that if I stared at all the pictures and information long enough something would jump out at me and tell me where Lisbeth would be going next.
Walking over to stand next to her, I looked again at the postcard and read the words one more time, this time imagining Sophie saying them.
“Dr. Reynolds?” I asked.
“Maddie,” she corrected with a half-smile.
“Maddie,” I conceded, trying to keep the worry from my voice, “she mentioned my parents in the postcard. Do you think she meant it as a taunt or a threat?”
“We’re not taking any chances,” I was startled by Logan’s voice behind me. It was the first time I’d seen him since I’d handed the postcard over to him the day before at my parent’s house. It was always such a comfort to see him. “The chief agreed to have an extra patrol around your parent’s neighborhood. Detective Hammond volunteered to take the first shift. I think you should be staying over there until we know for certain where our suspect is headed.”
His firm tone didn’t leave any room for argument. He didn’t take risks where my safety was concerned.
He turned to walk back towards the chief’s office. As I watched him walk away, I couldn’t help noticing the expression on Madeline’s face. She looked from Logan’s retreating figure then back at me, one eyebrow raised. As much as Logan and I tried to stay professional, she knew.
I never was very good at hiding my emotions.
Chapter Thirty-Three
I was walking down that long, dreaded corridor. The tap of my feet echoed across the beige and brown tiled floor. It was dark and what little light there was cast long shadows across the drab gray walls.
The smell. I never forgot the smell. The strong smell of industrial disinfectant trying to cover the stale odor of urine and unwashed bodies. It stayed with me, sank into my skin until I wanted to scrub off the stench.
The hall seemed longer than I remembered. I could see the distant light coming from a doorway up ahead, but the closer I walked to it the further away it seemed.
I looked around to see if there was anyone else in sight. There should be nurses and attendants, doctors and patients, but the long hallway was empty. It was late, maybe after hours. They probably only had a small staff this time of night. Most of the patients might already be in bed asleep.
As I walked along the never-ending corridor I remembered the doors leading off of it. They led to other wards, usually filled with patients during earlier hours. As I came to one of those doors I decided to look in through the thick glass window to see if anyone was around. I pressed my face up against the glass and peered into the darkened room.
It was the common room, the place where most of the patients usually wandered when not in their own rooms. There was only one light that shown down from a distant corner in the room. The light flickered slightly, casting odd shadows on a hard chair below. It took a moment to see a small figure curled up in the chair, feet up against its chest, arms wrapped around the legs. The head was pressed against the bent knees. I couldn’t see a face.
The figure seemed so lonely, so pitiful. I wondered if I should call a nurse or an attendant. They shouldn’t be left alone like this. I was about to call out when the face lifted and I saw the eyes. They were filled with tears and a bright, jewel green.
“Why did you do it?” The voice was just a whisper but somehow I heard it through the door. “You were supposed to get me out of this place, not put me back in. You were the only person I ever trusted. How could you betray me like this?”
“Lisbeth?” I gasped. I pressed one hand to the glass and tried to open the door with the other. It was securely locked. I rattled the handle anyway just to be sure.
“It’s your fault that I’m back in here,” she stood up, her eyes filled with accusations. She walked on unsteady feet over to the door, her face just a few inches from mine, separated only by the thick glass. “I thought you were my friend.”
Her eyes suddenly turned dark and her mouth turned up in a sarcastic smirk.
“Do you think these walls can hold us?” Sophie taunted, her arms thrown wide to encompass the room. “You can’t stop us.” She spun around in full circles, her head thrown back, red-orange hair flowing around her. She let out this laugh. At first it was just a light laugh, soft and intimate. Then it grew in pitch and volume. It was almost a cackle, crazed, maddening.
She continued spinning and laughing, the one flickering light from above casting eerie shadows over her and the drab walls surrounding her. Round and round she went, giggling,
spinning, until she came to an abrupt halt. When she stopped she was directly in front of me, separated by just a clear barrier. Her eyes were wide and such a dark green they were almost black.
She stood completely still all of a sudden, as though she wasn’t even breathing. Those eyes looked at me, boring into me, accusing me. She didn’t speak but her eyes were filled with such hatred and loathing.
I stumbled back a few steps, realizing that despite the thick glass and the locked door I needed to keep a safe distance from her.
“We’ll get out,” she sung in a haunting voice, “and when we do, you’ll be the first person we come and find.”
I backed further away and scrambled down the hall back the way I came. I had to get out of there. I had to get away from this place, the feel, the smell. I had to get as far away from her as possible.
For some reason, I couldn’t see the entrance where I came in. It was dark and getting darker by the moment. I picked up the pace, not just walking now but jogging, almost running. I needed to find an exit. All I could see were more doors leading to more hospital wards. I tried the first one I came to, hoping it led to an exit, but it was locked and the room beyond dark.
I turned to continue down the hall when suddenly I saw a hand pressed against the darkened glass. I froze in place, realizing there was someone inside that dark room. Before I could step back, a dark figure appeared next to the hand. I could only make out a vague outline. A voice sent chills down my spine.
“You know me,” came the eerie voice from the other side, “you know who I am. You know what I can do. You know what I am capable of. You know I can find you, no matter where you are, no matter where you go. I am Altus Dracona.”
I let out a scream and ran, ran with every ounce of energy I possessed. I ran down that endless corridor as though the devil himself were at my heels. And it felt like he was. I didn’t dare look back but I could feel someone behind me. I could hear heavy footsteps on the dingy tile just a few feet behind me. I could feel the heat of a dark presence close enough for me to touch if I were brave enough to reach back.
Run! Go! I had to get out of here. I had to find an exit. If I didn’t it would get me. I couldn’t let it catch up to me. There had to be a way out. If I didn’t get out of here I was going to lose my mind and end up locked up in here too.
Run! I had to escape. The sound of heavy footsteps seemed loud to my ears. It was right behind me, so close. I felt something brush against my shoulder, an icy touch of an unseen hand. It didn’t stop me but I felt it grasping again, trying to stop me with its frigid grip.
“Find me….find me if you dare…” came the sing-song voice.
I was running so hard my lungs were burning. Sweat was pouring down my face. My entire body ached with the strain. My muscles started to cramp and my stomach started to heave.
Where was the exit? It had to be here somewhere. Panic started to engulf me, taking me firmly into its grasp.
My head was starting to ache, the pain building. My ears started to buzz, the irritating noise driving me crazy. I had to get out of here. I had to find…..
Reality hit me like a bucket of cold water. With blurry eyes I looked over at my buzzing cell phone on the nightstand next to the bed. I could barely make out the number.
“Logan?” My scratchy voice answered.
“Caitlyn, we were wrong.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
The sun wasn’t quite peeking over the Wasatch Mountains as our plane ascended into the misty clouds. We were flying coach on a commercial airline this time. Logan and I sat together and Dr. Reynolds sat a few rows up from us. We had been fortunate to even get these three tickets on such short notice.
This flight was much different than our flight to Texas. We didn’t have the privacy of a chartered jet to discuss the situation we would be walking into. We also didn’t have the open communication with the FBI at the moment. Director Phillips had taken the jet when he had flown to Auburn, California and had now flown ahead to meet us at another location. Without his insight and connections we weren’t certain what would be waiting for us when we landed.
I was still exhausted from my terrifying dream hours before and the mad scramble at three o’clock this morning to throw a travel bag together and head for the airport with Logan.
A part of me wanted to lean my head back against the seat of the airplane and try to get a bit more sleep before we landed, but another part of me was afraid of what I would encounter if I did. I still couldn’t quite shake the cold terror that had gripped me in that nightmare, the feeling of having this monster, this monster that I knew, chasing me, haunting me. Even now, goose bumps pricked my arms and my hands felt cold and clammy at the thought.
Logan reached over and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. He always seemed to know how to comfort me, to be aware of when I needed comfort. Just that familiar touch helped chase away the demons that had been pursuing me for the last few hours.
Before I knew it, the plane began its descent. It was a relatively short flight of just a few hours.
I looked out the small window of the airplane and saw the lush green below. It was in stark contrast to the dry yellows and browns of Texas. The snow-capped Cascade Mountains were in the distance and the majestic Mt. Rainier was easy to see. As we circled around to land at Seattle-Tacoma International Airport, or SeaTac, I could just catch a glimpse of the city of Seattle.
It was nicknamed the “Emerald City” for a reason. The frequent rain and mist in the area kept everything green and verdant. I had been here on a family trip when I was younger and had instantly fallen in love with the city. It was bright and clean and there was so much to do here. Whether you liked city life or nature there was something for everyone.
As we disembarked and caught up with Dr. Reynolds, I was surprised to see a federal agent waiting for us right at the gate. Usually, with increased airport security, most people weren’t allowed near the gates without an airline ticket. I guess that a federal badge could get you in many places that were restricted to civilians.
Special Agent Moreno introduced herself to us and asked that we follow her to another area of the airport away from the baggage claim area. We had been instructed to only bring carry-on luggage to speed things up. She was tall with a conservative suit, low heels and a brisk walk. Dr. Reynolds worked hard to keep up the pace.
We followed her out a side door that read “Airport Personnel Only”, down a long, empty hallway then to another door with an armed security guard at the entrance. His badge was from the Department of Homeland Security but he nodded and let us through when we each showed him our identification.
As we stepped out into the rare, bright morning sunlight, I could feel the humidity caressing my skin, causing my already curly hair to dampen and twist towards my face.
A dark gray SUV was waiting for us and took off as soon as we climbed in and fastened our seatbelts. Again, I sat between Logan and Madeline.
“I can’t believe we missed it,” Dr. Reynolds said in a quiet voice, “It’s my job to think outside the box. We should have expanded our search. We should have thought on a broader scale.”
“Logically speaking, I think Director Phillips considered the closest locations first,” I could tell by Logan’s tone that he had really come to respect the FBI Field Director. “Alabama was geographically closer to Texas, which seemed the more obvious choice until Caitlyn received that phone call and they were able to trace it west to Juarez. From there, it didn’t seem like much of a stretch for Elizabeth to continue heading west and go up into California. If she’s sticking to the major interstates and trucking routes as we suspect, Auburn, California would be the next choice on the list.”
“But what would take her all the way to Auburn Washington?” Madeline asked. Once again, both sets of eyes turned to me.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Auburn was one of many suburbs and small towns between Seattle and Tacoma, Washington. One of the things it was known for l
ocally was a large shopping center that used to be called the Super Mall but was now called Outlet Collection Seattle. It was a thriving community yet still had a bit of that small town feel.
As we headed east on Interstate 405 then south on highway 167, I couldn’t help admiring the rolling green hills and the distant mountains in the background. It was a very picturesque landscape.
Agent Moreno explained that we wouldn’t have far to go and that Director Phillips would be waiting to brief us when we arrived. I wasn’t sure what to expect this time. We had been told next to nothing about the victim or the crime scene.
I was expecting to be taken to some remote, forested area or some deserted back road like the last time. I was instead surprised when we took an exit and starting driving towards a large silver building with distinctive aqua blue siding and roof. It sat on the side of an expansive tract of land with a long oval race track in front. Large yellow lettering across the building spelled out “Emerald Downs”.
“A horse track?” I couldn’t help asking the question. This was one of the last places I would have thought to look for Lisbeth or one of her victims.
We drove up to the main entrance and I noticed that most of the area was closed off to the public while local and federal authorities were trying to keep the site secure. This didn’t stop a crowd of curious onlookers from forming or the ever present media from having their news vans and cameras on the ready.
Agent Moreno must have phoned the director and let him know that we were there because we had hardly stepped out of the SUV before he was striding across the grounds towards us.
