Find Me If You Dare (The Chronicles of Elizabeth Marshall Book 2)

by Rachel Lucas

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  I held my breath and waited for Madeline’s response. Maybe I had lost it. Maybe all the stress was getting to me. Maybe I was so worried since Elizabeth had been on the loose that I was starting to see the bogyman around every corner. I had to admit, it was a far-fetched theory. Finally, Madeline spoke.

  “It’s not enough that she could possibly have twenty-seven different personalities running around inside her head, but you think she might have a demon thrown in there too?” It was hard to tell if she was taking me seriously or not.

  The tiny woman stood up and started pacing around the small room, thinking through what I had said. For some reason, her opinion was important to me. I had come to respect her, not only as a professional, but as a friend. I didn’t want her thinking that I was losing my mind.

  She paced for a moment in silence, thinking quietly. When she finally spoke, there was a haunted expression in her eyes.

  “I had a case several years ago. There were a series of mail bombs. Boxes were sent to certain people through the US mail. Innocent enough you would think. When the recipient opened the package, it exploded. Two people were killed and several others seriously injured. I was called in to help profile the unknown suspect. We did a thorough background check on all the victims and found one person in common. He was an expert on rare religious books and artifacts. As it turned out, he had been forging various documents and selling them at a considerable profit. When he thought he might get caught, he decided to try to kill those he had deceived.”

  She stopped her pacing for a moment and took a deep breath. The case seemed familiar. I thought I had remembered hearing about it on the news when I was younger.

  “As we were closing in on the suspect and getting ready to bring him into custody, he was actually in the process and building and delivering another bomb. It accidently detonated and he was severely injured, but he survived. It took several surgeries to save his life, but once he was coherent, I was able to interview him extensively.”

  She took off her glasses for a moment and pinched the bridge of her nose, as if reliving the memory.

  “I asked him why he did it. I wanted to understand what his motivation was for killing and injuring all these innocent people. He told me there was a devil inside of him that spoke to him and made him do what he did. The odd thing was, though, he didn’t say it in a crazy, insane way. He was an extremely intelligent man. He had more degrees than I could count. There didn’t seem to be any mental health issues, except for a good deal of narcissism. His actions were all very thought through and deliberate. It wasn’t the old ‘the devil made me do it’ kind of a thing, either. He was absolutely convinced that a devil was present inside of him.”

  She put her glasses back on and resumed her pacing, her small feet tapping on the tiled floor.

  “At the time, I wanted to believe it was just an excuse, a way to detract from what he had done or a clever way to use an insanity defense. But over the years since, I’ve wondered…”

  She came to a stop in front of me. We were almost eye-level. Her gaze was direct, her eyes open and honest.

  “I’ve never been one to believe in demons and possessions,” she brought her hands up in a somewhat helpless gesture, “religion is a tricky thing when you’re in my profession. You are right. I have been trained to believe in the facts, in the evidence. Science and medicine are the backbone of psychiatry. But if I was ever going to step outside of that box, if I was ever going to believe such things as demons exist, the things I saw when I watched that video of Elizabeth’s sessions with you, well….”

  She left the rest unsaid for the moment. I knew what she meant. How could I have come face to face with Vesper, Myst or many of the others and not believe in demons, no matter what name you wanted to call them.

  How many times had I confronted a member of the ‘family’ and known fear? How many times had I visited Elizabeth in the mental hospital and not known who or what I would be facing?

  “There are evil beings that exist inside of her.” Madeline continued. “No matter what you call them – personalities, alter-egos, demons, entities, I believe they are there. And no matter what we believe, the important thing is, Elizabeth believes they are there.”

  Madeline was right, and I appreciated that she took my theory seriously and didn’t think I was nuts. As I thought through what she said though, something occurred to me. Maybe I wasn’t looking deeply enough into Elizabeth’s head. Maybe I was too distracted by all the other personalities inside of her that I wasn’t focusing closely enough on her, Elizabeth, the core. Maybe the key was there somewhere. Maybe if I looked closely enough, the common thread to this killing spree she was on would start to unravel.

  “Caitlyn Stewart?” A small middle-eastern man was standing in the doorway calling my name with an Indian accent.

  “Yes?” I answered.

  “Martin is asking, well actually, he’s demanding to speak to you. I really don’t think he should have any visitors at this time, but he’s quite insistent.”

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  On our way back to the MICU, Dr. Jeetan brought us up to date on Dr. Ross’ condition. The loss of blood had taken a toll on his heart and they were having a hard time keeping his vitals stable. Even with the additional blood transfusions, his body was severely weakened. Besides the bruising to his face, he had received a concussion too. His nose was broken and he had a few facial fractures. He had been in and out of consciousness since I had seen him earlier but had woken up a short time ago demanding to speak to me.

  As I entered what I thought of now as the “glass room”, I noticed that his face looked even more bruised and swollen than it did before.

  “It is imperative that you do not upset him,” Dr. Jeetan gave a quiet warning as we neared the patient. I nodded silently and approached the injured man.

  “Caitlyn?” Martin’s one good eye snapped open as soon as he sensed my approach. It still felt odd to be on such familiar terms with the doctor.

  “Yes, I’m here.” I assured him. He seemed to relax just slightly once he knew I was there.

  “Good,” his raspy voice answered, “you didn’t leave.”

  “No, I’m right here.” The nurses had brought two chairs next to his bedside which Madeline and I gratefully sat down in. “The doctor said you wanted to speak with me. Do you feel up to talking?”

  ‘No,” was his immediate reply, “but I need to anyway.”

  I nodded but didn’t push. I wanted to wait until he was ready. A few minutes passed in silence. The buzz and beeps of the machines monitoring his vitals seemed loud to my ears. After a while he let out a hoarse laugh.

  “You always were a patient one.” His bruised face turned into a grimace, as though it hurt to laugh. I couldn’t tell if he was mocking me or giving me a compliment. “I think that was why she was always so willing to open up to you. I think that was why the different family members gravitated towards you.”

  There seemed to be a mixture of respect and envy in his voice. I wasn’t quite sure how to take it. Maybe he was right. I had always been quiet and even-tempered, patient. Maybe that generated trust, both with Elizabeth and the others.

  Trust. Wasn’t that what she had accused me of betraying? Wasn’t that why she was so angry with me?

  “She spoke of you. She told me things.” A haunted look came over his battered face. It was strange to see the normally confident and self-assured man so subdued and anxious. It was out of character to see him like this.

  “What did she talk about while she was there?” I asked then thought of another question. “Who was there?”

  The look in his eyes told me he knew what I meant. Which of the personalities were there?

  “I have to admit,” he swallowed hard, “it’s very different when you’re not behind a wall of glass.”

  Oh yes, the observation room. Now maybe he was able to understand what it was like confronting Elizabeth and her demons face to
face, instead of behind a safe wall of glass, or a two-way mirror. How many times had I gone toe to toe with Vesper or Jade or any of the others? Perhaps he now had a new-found respect for what I was willing to endure every time I went to see Elizabeth.

  “There were several there,” he admitted quietly. “Elizabeth only for moments here and there. Mostly it was Maxine and a few of the others.” His body shivered slightly as he alluded to the more dangerous members of the family. I glanced up at his monitors, hoping the memory wouldn’t raise his heart rate too much.

  “What did she want? Did she have a purpose there besides harming you?” I asked.

  “At first she was mocking me.” Even in his weakened state I could tell that was offensive to him. “She wanted to play doctor/patient. She wanted to talk about her childhood. It was as though she was toying with me. I couldn’t tell if she was just trying to goad me or if she really wanted answers. She wanted me to tell her why she became what she is.”

  I took a deep breath and tried to imagine what he had been through. He must have been duct taped to his chair, helpless, while she circled around him, playing with him, taunting him. The fear and uncertainty must have been overwhelming. She was capable of anything. We certainly knew she was capable of murder. He really was lucky to be alive.

  “Was she just rambling, or was there a coherent train of thought?” This question was from Madeline.

  “It was mostly about her childhood. That and her friendship with you, Caitlyn. She said it was the one thing she could count on in her life. She said you were the only person she ever thought she could trust.”

  His words struck a deep chord with me. I had fought, since that night she had murdered my ex-husband, to build a wall around myself. I had desperately tried to separate myself from the bond we had once shared, to see her not as a cherished childhood friend but as the criminal and murderer that she was.

  I couldn’t let his words shake me.

  “Was there anything she might have said that would give you an idea what she planned to do next?” I prodded.

  ‘No,” he replied reluctantly then a thought seemed to strike him. “It was important to her that I call you. She wanted me to confess that I should have treated her better. I think she wanted you to hear me die.” He swallowed hard again after saying the words. His one eye closed for a moment as he struggled to come to grips with what he had gone through. “I think it surprised her that you caught on so quickly, that you realized she was there with me.”

  Maybe I had helped save him after all. The thought wasn’t entirely comforting when I looked at him and realized again how bruised and battered he was. He seemed to read my thoughts.

  “You did save me.” He had never seemed to be a man of soft emotions. The concession must have been hard for him. “Whatever it was that appeared at that moment, it called itself the Dragon, and it didn’t intend to leave me alive.”

  Chapter Fifty

  Once the words were out, once he said the word “Dragon”, the energy seemed to drain right out of him. His body appeared to deflate and relax. He had probably lost consciousness. I looked over at the broken man, hardly recognizing the confident professional that I had known over the previous months.

  He really was fortunate to be alive. Was it intentional, or not? Was he left alive to show us both that it was up to her, it was in her hands, who lived and who died? There was no way to know for sure. It seemed as though we were all just caught up in Elizabeth’s sick, twisted game.

  Sitting there looking at Martin Ross, I had to admit, there had been a time when I really hadn’t liked the man. I hadn’t appreciated him using me for bait, using me and my friendship and devotion to Elizabeth to get the different personalities to manifest. When he had been so convinced that he had cured her and had been partly responsible for her gaining her freedom, I had wanted to strangle him myself. Now though, seeing the weak, frail man before me, I experienced a different kind of emotion.

  I was angry. Not at Dr. Ross and all his maneuvering, but at Elizabeth. I was furious with her. For the first time since coming into her unique circle of friendship all those years ago, I was absolutely enraged with her. I was just so tired of being on the receiving end of all her selfish, harmful actions. The strong emotion welled up inside of me until I thought it would burst.

  I glanced over at Madeline. She was carefully studying my ever-expressive face.

  “What are you feeling?” She whispered to me, always trained to look for facial expressions and body movements.

  “Rage.” The one word summed it all up. I didn’t know if I could say more.

  She took in my intense expression. I could almost feel my face flush and my own blood pressure rise. With a calm sigh, she reached over and placed her hand on mine. A knowing look came into her eyes.

  “Psychology 101,” she nodded in understanding, searching my eyes to see if I understood her.

  At first, I couldn’t see past the blind rage. I allowed the pain from Lewis’ death to rise to the surface. It ate at me as strongly as the guilt. Guilt for still loving and caring for a man that had hurt me so much. Guilt that I may have been even partly involved in his death. The anger for the brutality that had been dealt to Dr. Ross. He was no saint, but he certainly didn’t deserve what she had done to him. Few times in my life had I felt such fury.

  It took a moment to see past my strong feelings and to understand what she was saying. I had to force myself to take a step back and think objectively. Psychology 101? What was she talking about? Then it hit me.

  “The five stages of grief.” I answered, taking a deep, cleansing breath. I let the strong emotions wash over me and fought to look at this from a distance.

  She nodded and smiled like a proud professor when their prized pupil gives the right answer. She was right. Anger was a very normal thing to feel right now. The realization only lessened the emotion slightly. The strong feeling only seemed to renew my determination for finding Elizabeth and making sure she was put away somewhere where she could never harm another person.

  “Come on,” I rose to my feet and Madeline did the same, “let’s give Dr. Ross a chance to rest. I don’t think we’ll get much more out of him anyway.”

  The hospital staff seemed somewhat relieved as we walked towards the sliding glass door. They were probably anxious to have their patient undisturbed.

  It wasn’t until the door slid open and I was halfway through it that I heard a raspy reply from the bed.

  “It said one more thing.” His voice was almost a whisper. I couldn’t tell if Martin was really conscious or not. Maybe he was just rambling. Still, I walked back to his bedside to see if he said more.

  “It?” I questioned. “What did ‘it’ say?”

  “As I was sitting in that chair, bleeding badly after it cut my throat,” his words were almost incoherent as I strained to hear them, “it said something.”

  It? Was he talking about the Dragon?

  “I thought I was dying. I thought I was already dead. I could have been. How else could you explain those glowing red eyes?” His words brought me closer. Did I hear him right? Glowing red eyes? Had he been hallucinating from the loss of blood? I had to know.

  “What did you hear it say?” I urged.

  “It said: ‘I finally found him. I’m going to kill him now. He deserves it. He will wish he had never been born. He will wish I never had been born. He never should have abandoned us.”

  A chill went down my spine as his words hit me. I knew what I had to do.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  “Logan,” I was on my cell phone with him before we had even left the MICU entirely. Where to start?

  “What is it?” Even over the cell phone he could hear the alarm in my voice.

  “I think I know where she’s headed next.” Madeline followed fast on my heels as I strode down the long hospital halls.

  “Where?” Logan and Madeline asked at almost the same time.

  “Use all your resources. Look for a B
obby Marshall, or a Robert Marshall.” I walked into the elevator and hit the button for the ground floor.

  “Who?” Madeline asked in confusion.

  “It’s Elizabeth’s biological father.”

  Finally, the pieces started fitting into place for me. These weren’t just random attacks and killings. She was going through her past and purging herself of anyone she either didn’t like or who she had thought had hurt her in some way. Every one of the victims had done something to her in her mind. Everyone but Lewis. He was a message to me directly, and I knew she had never liked him.

  We were at the ground floor of the hospital and walking through the main lobby when I realized that Madeline and I didn’t have any transportation. Logan and Director Phillips had left us at the hospital and gone ahead to the crime scene. I stood at a large window, looking out at the city below, feeling frustrated.

  “What do you know about him?” Logan asked.

  “Elizabeth and Barbara rarely spoke of him,” I rubbed my forehead, trying to force the memories to come forward. “All I ever remember them saying was that he left them right after Elizabeth was born. He moved south, New Mexico, I think. He got remarried and started a new family. But that was almost thirty years ago. There’s no telling how much has changed since then.”

  Madeline found the nearest chair, sat down and took her laptop out of the large bag she carried with her everywhere. She only tried for a moment to get a Wi-Fi connection before she walked over to the hospital information desk, flashed her badge, and all but demanded their internet password. The poor elderly lady at the front desk didn’t dare refuse her.

  “I can’t imagine how many Robert Marshalls there are in New Mexico,” I all but groaned.

  “I’ll have an approximate number for you in just a moment,” Madeline mumbled as her small fingers flew across the keyboard of her laptop.

  “What if he’s moved?” I hated to be the pessimist here, but I had to look at this realistically.