The Deadliest Institution Collection

by Holly Copella

  “I understand Karl had been working on the museum last week,” Sheriff Carter announced. “When was he here last?”

  “Friday afternoon,” Brant informed him then fidgeted. “I’d dismissed the construction company for improper conduct.”

  Sheriff Carter eyed Devon as if reading between the lines then looked back at Brant. “There have been complaints about Larry’s Construction in the past,” the sheriff remarked then wrote something in his notebook. “The outer museum basement door appears to have been forced open. It’s not noticeable at a glance, but there are fresh notches in the wood.”

  “We used that entrance last Thursday for our delivery,” Brant informed him. “I’m positive I locked it when we were finished, although I’m not sure what I did with the keys.”

  “Was there anyone here Friday evening?” Sheriff Carter asked. “That’s the night she’d disappeared.”

  Brant only briefly considered the question. “No. Ross, Devon, and I left about five o’clock on Friday,” he announced. “I went to a dinner party at my parents’ house in the city and didn’t get home until early Saturday morning.”

  “What about your partner, Tyler?”

  “He was either at his beach house or in the city, as he is most weekends,” Brant replied.

  “Anyone else at the museum on Friday?” Sheriff Carter asked.

  “Just the construction crew and the four of us,” he replied then hesitated. “And Tony.”

  Carter raised a curious brow. “Tony O’Brien?”

  “Yes,” Brant announced. “He brings lunch on Fridays. He’s Ross’ friend.”

  “Once they’re finished pumping the water from the basement, we’ll conduct a more thorough search,” Sheriff Carter informed him.

  “Thank you, Sheriff.”

  Brant freed himself from Devon’s grip and walked Sheriff Carter to the front door. Only a moment passed when Devon heard a familiar voice from the front door. Ross entered the living room and hurried for Devon as she sprang up from the sofa.

  “Devon, are you all right?” he practically gasped.

  Devon staggered toward Ross and drunkenly fell into his arms. “Oh, Ross. I’m so glad to see you,” she cried out and hugged him.

  Ross held her to keep her from falling. He stared at her with some surprise then cast a look at Brant, who stood nearby.

  “Is she drunk?” he asked with surprise.

  “Maybe a little,” Brant replied.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  It was late Monday afternoon, and the storm had finally passed, although there were plenty of flooded roadways, downed trees, and power outages. The small town was particularly hit hard, especially along the back roads. The resort area seemed less affected by the aftermath of the storm since most of the power lines were underground and there were few older trees with weak limbs. A few smaller branches scattered about parking lots was the extent of the damage to the newly developed resort area.

  Tamara walked across the mostly filled hotel parking lot toward her lightly used, powder blue compact car. She was dressed in her black housekeeping uniform and comfortable shoes looking exhausted from her morning working the seven to three shift at the hotel. She pressed the button on her keychain, electronically unlocking her car door as she approached. Tamara got into the car, sat behind the wheel a moment, and then looked at herself in the rearview mirror. Although only twenty-three, she looked much older. She frowned, started the car, and pulled out of the parking lot while avoiding larger puddles.

  The light blue car drove away from the resort area and headed for town along the back road, which was the quickest route to her apartment on the other side of town. There were several tree limbs down, and the back road was covered in puddles and debris. As she drove down the lightly traveled road, Jamie’s red sports car appeared behind her. Tamara glanced into her rearview mirror and immediately recognized the car.

  “Great,” Tamara scoffed. “Probably wants to gloat about getting the job.”

  Jamie’s sports car picked up speed while entering the oncoming lane and drove alongside Tamara’s car. She glanced to her left, half-expecting to see Jamie gloating, when the sports car picked up speed and swerved in front of her. Tamara cried out with surprise and turned the wheel to avoid hitting the sports car. Her car ran off the road, hit the gravel, and struck an embankment. Tamara was thrown against the seatbelt, which held her in place upon impact. She clung to the wheel a moment while panting from the near collision. The sports car stopped on the street and backed up until it was on the road a few yards in front of Tamara’s disabled car. Tamara sneered and sprang from her car.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” she cried out demandingly while flinging her arms around wildly at her former friend. “You could have killed me, you stupid bitch!”

  The car suddenly rocketed backward in reverse. Tamara saw the car coming and attempted to jump out of the way. She was nearly clipped by the sports car while leaping over the hood of her own car. She slid off the car hood and fell onto the gravel before it. Jamie’s car pulled alongside her. Tamara slowly picked herself up from the gravel while gingerly rubbing her shoulder. She looked at the car with anger and was about to scream at Jamie when she saw the phantom lunging for her. Tamara let out a startled scream as a stun gun was thrust against her midsection. She jerked and jolted before falling to the ground.

  §

  Tamara opened her eyes and stared at the old, partially rotted ceiling above her. Within the dimly lit room, she could make out a cobweb-covered chandelier. She groaned softly and looked around while attempting to sit up. Her arms were immobile, stretched out on either side of the dining room table, and somehow tied to it. Her ankles were tied together and to the table as well. Tamara gasped and immediately fought her bindings, but she couldn’t free herself. A tear in the old, heavy curtains allowed the setting sun to shine partially through, indicating she’d been out for several hours. A strange scraping sound alarmed her.

  “Help,” she cried out, although it was possible no one would hear her.

  The scraping sound got louder and seemed to be coming from behind her head. It was the only area she couldn’t see from her tied position on the table.

  “Please, let me go,” she sobbed. “Why are you doing this?”

  The scraping sound stopped. Tamara nervously looked to her right and saw the phantom standing over her where she was tied to the table. Tamara screamed when she saw him. He raised an ax above his head. She continued to scream while fighting the ropes holding her to the table. The ax came down and struck her in the abdomen. Tamara cried out then gasped as her body jerked, and she spit up blood. The ax was pulled from her body and thrust downward again. She managed a faint whimper then became motionless. The ax was pulled from her body and struck her again and again, sending blood flying across the room. When the phantom had cast his final blow, he left the ax in her torn abdomen and walked away. Blood seeped through the splintered table and dripped into a puddle on the floor below.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  It was a little before noon on Tuesday. Ross, Devon, and Martin appeared uncomfortable as they sat in the front, left parlor of the funeral home. Voices were heard within the right side parlor across the hall from them. Tony was comforting his grieving client. Dorothy Smyth sobbed into her handkerchief as she stepped out of the front parlor and walked along the hallway with Tony by her side.

  “You’ve been so kind in my time of need, Tony. Jamie would appreciate you taking care of her like this,” Dorothy announced while fighting her tears. “You’ll make all the arrangements?”

  “I’ll take care of everything, Mrs. Smyth,” Tony informed her while gently touching her elbow. “Why don’t you go home and rest?”

  Dorothy nodded. “Chelsea’s waiting for me at Dr. Sherman’s office,” she announced. “Gina was good enough to keep an eye on her for me while I took care of Jamie’s final arrangements.”

  Tony offered a pleasant smile and escorted her to
the front door. He shut the door then glanced into the left, front parlor and saw his friends. He entered the parlor and closed the double, sliding doors behind him, allowing them some privacy in case someone else showed up unexpectedly. All three were silent while staring at their friend.

  “Sorry I’m running a little late for lunch,” Tony informed them while nervously running his fingers through his hair. “Prepping Jamie isn’t going to be easy. It’s been a while since I’ve had a client younger than me. And considering the circumstances--”

  Tony hesitated and didn’t finish the thought although they knew what he wanted to say. Prepping someone who’d been brutally murdered couldn’t be easy, particularly someone so young, and from their small town where everyone knew everyone else.

  “Emotionally, I’m wiped out,” Tony announced gently while fidgeting.

  “Take your time,” Ross announced, possibly being serious for the first time in his life. “It’s been a difficult couple of days for all of us.”

  Tony eyed Martin and seemed a little surprised to see him. “Didn’t expect to see you here, Martin,” Tony remarked and offered a tiny smile. “I thought you were allergic to funeral homes?”

  “I avoid them when I can,” he replied then tensed. “After yesterday, I didn’t think I should leave Devon alone.”

  “It was nice of Brant to give us the day off,” Devon remarked.

  “I think he was pretty shaken himself,” Ross informed her.

  “When I went to the morgue to pick up the, uh, Jamie’s remains, Sheriff Carter was there. He shared some news about the murder,” Tony announced, fumbling for something to say.

  All three suddenly perked up, giving him their full attention.

  “What did he say?” Devon asked.

  “Jamie was killed Friday evening sometime between six-thirty and nine at night,” Tony informed them. “According to Marlene, Jamie received a phone call at the diner from some man, and she left in a hurry. Marlene suspected it may have been Burt Danson, the producer. Dorothy said Jamie came home, changed into a slinky dress, and left without a word a little after six-thirty. She assumed she was going to meet some friends at a dance club at the resort area. When she didn’t come home that night, Dorothy didn’t think much of it.”

  “Jamie applied for the same acting job as Ivy had,” Devon reminded them. “Maybe Burt had something to do with her murder.”

  “Sheriff Carter was on his way to the resorts to question Burt Danson,” Tony replied then hesitated and looked around. “Where’s Ivy? She’d be interested to hear this.”

  “Late as usual,” Ross remarked.

  “Tamara also auditioned for the acting job,” Devon informed them. “Even though we don’t really know anything for sure, we should warn her about Burt as well. Just in case.”

  “Paula too,” Ross interjected.

  “Screw Paula,” Devon scoffed.

  “That’s an interesting theory about this Burt guy,” Martin announced and seemed curious. “I mean, if she was going to meet him, it’s pretty clear he was somehow involved.”

  “Better than Carter’s original theory,” Ross interjected and raised his brows. “He was working the jilted lover theory. Honestly, I don’t think Karl was too broken up over Jamie dumping him.”

  “I heard they haven’t been able to find Karl to question him,” Martin added then eyed Ross. “I don’t think you should discount him so quickly. Maybe he’ll give a confession to her murder, and it’ll be over with.” He then considered something else. “What about your boss, Brant? He could’ve killed Jamie and still made it in time for his parents’ dinner party. If there really was a party.”

  Devon and Ross both glared at Martin.

  “Brant wouldn’t harm a fly,” Devon insisted.

  “Not according to what you’d told me the other day,” Martin scoffed.

  Ross turned his head and stared at her demandingly. “What happened the other day?”

  “After Paula made a pass at him in the bar, he trashed the workshop,” Martin informed Ross. “Devon saw him butcher a wax woman.”

  “He was just venting,” she insisted. “Besides, he’d never even met Jamie.”

  “That you know,” Martin remarked. “Jamie could have stopped by to visit Karl at the museum. The construction company was working there for months.”

  “If Brant were a killer, he’d have whacked Tyler by now,” Ross informed Martin.

  “I don’t trust that man,” Martin remarked while shaking his head. “Sexual frustration can motivate a man to kill a woman.”

  “Hey, I’m sexually frustrated, and I’ve never thought about killing women,” Ross boldly announced.

  “Excluding Martin, I’d say we’re all pretty much sexually frustrated,” Tony teased with a slightly embarrassed laugh.

  “I’m not sexually frustrated,” Devon corrected.

  “No, you’re just sexually frigid,” Ross announced while chuckling.

  Martin glared at Ross.

  Ross caught his glare then fidgeted. “I was just kidding.” He glanced at his watch and attempted to change the subject. “Where the hell is Ivy?”

  §

  Ivy’s jeep pulled up to the old farmhouse in the middle of the vast farmland around quarter after twelve. She uncertainly got out of the jeep and stared at the creepy, abandoned building while clutching her large handbag securely against her side.

  “Is this some sort of joke?” she remarked under her breath while staring at the old farmhouse. “Why would he want to meet here?”

  She strummed her fingers on the car door, drew a deep breath, and then shut the door with determination. She straightened proudly, smoothed her form-fitting, flattering dress, and approached the house. She stepped onto the porch and nearly changed her mind when the floorboard creaked beneath her. She forced herself to approach the already partially open door and pushed it open the rest of the way. She peered into the creepy hallway and looked around.

  “Burt?” she called out while scanning the area and clutching her large bag.

  When there was no response, she looked back at her jeep and again considered leaving. She groaned and removed a small tube of mace from her bag before entering the house. She nervously closed the door behind her and again stared at the dilapidated interior. She took several steps into the hall then peered into the sitting room on the left. There were several pieces of old furniture, but not a living soul. She approached the sliding doors on the right and attempted to open them. They didn’t budge.

  “Burt?” she again called out.

  When there was no response, she shook her head and turned back to the front door. There was a loud creak from upstairs. Ivy paused and looked up the half-rotted steps and insecurely clung to her shoulder bag in one hand and the mace in the other. She drew a deep breath and approached the stairs. Within the dust, she could see fresh shoe prints, obviously from a man, heading up and down the steps. Ivy hesitated then nervously walked up the rickety steps, careful to mind the rotted boards. She reached the top while keeping her mace aimed and her finger on the button. She scanned the open bedroom doors to the right side of the hall. A shadow moved within one of the rooms.

  “Burt?” she announced while trembling and waited for him to respond.

  When there still wasn’t a response, she slowly headed toward the bedroom and peered inside. Her brows immediately knitted with a curious look. She hurried into the room, disappearing inside. A second passed. Ivy suddenly cried out.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  The police cruiser pulled behind Tamara’s stranded car a little after noon. Sheriff Carter and Deputy Havens got out and approached the abandoned car. They separated and walked on either side of the car. Deputy Havens was forced to walk on the bank partway then had to return to the back of the car. He approached Sheriff Carter as he stood by the driver’s side. Carter opened the car door, peered inside, but found nothing. He then straightened and looked around the back road.

  “Guess she ran of
f the road,” Deputy Havens remarked while indicating the condition of the car. “With all the downed branches and puddles, I’m not surprised.”

  “Yeah, it would look that way,” Sheriff Carter replied, although his expression conveyed he wasn’t completely satisfied. “Her mother said she called the hotel this morning, but Tamara didn’t report for her shift. She suddenly doesn’t show up for work after her car breaks down?” The sheriff shook his head. “I find that a little hard to swallow.” He eyed his deputy. “I’ll drop you off in town, so you can start asking questions. See if anyone’s seen her. I need to get to the resort and track down Burt Danson.”

  Deputy Havens peeked inside the car. “I don’t see a purse or car keys,” he remarked then straightened with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “It’s still possible she was picked up by a friend.”

  “Then let’s check with all her friends,” Sheriff Carter announced. “There’s something strange happening in my town. If some psycho has his sights on young women in this town, he’s going to meet the business end of my Magnum.”

  §

  Devon and Ross walked along the sidewalk in town after their shortened lunch with Tony, who had too much work to do. It was a beautiful day, although the town seemed quieter than usual. It was obvious the residents were concerned over what had happened in their sleepy, little town. There were several other residents enjoying a walk through town on the bright, sunny day, but there was limited conversation among them.

  “I’m glad Martin was called away after lunch. I have to watch everything I say to you,” Ross remarked. “You’d think with all the women he’s bedded, he’d be a little more open-minded.”