The Deadliest Institution Collection

by Holly Copella

Sidney hesitated and immediately fidgeted. “Well, usually, but Trisha’s mother picks us up. It’s not like we’d be walking that time of night or anything.”

  Herb looked at Trisha then back to Sidney and sighed. “I suppose it’ll be all right with your mother. Will you be staying overnight?”

  “That’s the best part, Mr. McBride,” Trisha announced cheerfully then swiftly changed the subject to distract him. “Do you know when the next copy of ‘Teen Girl’ is coming out?”

  “I’ll check,” he said and turned toward the counter.

  “I’ll just go chat with Harlan,” Sidney said softly while feeling butterflies in her stomach.

  “He’s gone for the day,” Herb informed her simply as he walked behind the counter. “You just missed him. He left about twenty minutes ago. Said he had plans.”

  Sidney’s heart sank.

  Her father found a notebook, skimmed through it, and then looked up. “I didn’t realize that was your teacher in here yesterday,” he said dryly. “Very young.”

  “Miss Fisher,” Sidney replied simply.

  “Yeah,” Herb said appearing tense then looked back at the folder. “She was here about three-thirty. I believe she left some film for Harlan to develop.” He looked at Trisha and managed a smile. “That’ll be in around Tuesday.”

  Sidney felt her heart sink. Miss Fisher stopped by after school, and Harlan just happened to leave fifteen minutes later. She sank into her own, depressing world.

  Trisha nodded then looked at Sidney, reading her mood, and then offered a timid smile. “What do you say to an ice cream float at the diner? My mother’s treating,” she said.

  Sidney sighed softly. “Why not.”

  §

  It was five o’clock when Sidney and Trisha left the diner and walked toward the woods for their long, depressing journey home. Sidney’s mood hadn’t improved any despite her excessively fattening ice cream sundae.

  Trisha sighed as they passed Mrs. Cooper’s house. “Doesn’t appear to be anyone home at the house of local gossip.”

  They passed the house in between then passed Mrs. Randall’s house. “No one home there either,” Sidney remarked. “Must be something more interesting happening somewhere else.”

  Trisha laughed softly. “Nothing happens in this one horse town.” She looked at the woods and sighed deeply. “I’m getting out of this place as soon as I turn eighteen.”

  Sidney laughed at her friend. “Yeah? Where do you intend to go?”

  “New York or California. Don’t really know. Some big city, I’m sure,” Trisha replied.

  “Not me,” Sidney said simply. “I’m staying right here. I like this little town--gossip and all.”

  They entered the woods and walked in the direction of the stone bridge. They heard something move in the woods ahead, which wasn’t too surprising, although most of the students would be home by now. As they approached the bridge, both saw a man in a black, leather coat scale the wooded hillside just opposite the bridge. They stopped and stared at the vanishing man with some confusion.

  “Wasn’t that Alex Trexler?” Trisha asked with a curious stare.

  Sidney nodded.

  “What was his big hurry?” Trisha snapped as she stared up the hillside.

  They could hear a car burn out in loose gravel on Cressman Road, which was beyond the hillside. The sound of squealing tires and a blowing horn followed.

  “Must be late for work or something,” Sidney reported.

  They walked onto the bridge with a moment of silence between them. The teenage mind was complicated, and both had their own issues with which to deal.

  “What time will you be over tonight?” Trisha finally asked. “You are coming over tonight?”

  “I need something to take my mind off Harlan,” Sidney announced. “Right after supper, I suppose.”

  They paused on the bridge and leaned on the wall overlooking the stream to their left as they always did on their walk to and from school. Both simultaneously froze and stared at the woman lying face down on the bank near the water. Sidney immediately recognized the raven-haired woman in black pants. They straightened without hesitation and ran across the bridge to the other side. Trisha fell behind, unable to get any closer. Sidney slowed as she neared Miss Fisher. She paused a couple of feet away and stared at the large amount of blood surrounding Miss Fisher’s limp body and on a nearby rock.

  “Oh, my God,” Trisha cried out as her eyes widened with horror.

  Despite what she saw, Sidney realized she might not have been dead. Sidney hurried to Miss Fisher’s body and kneeled alongside her, being mindful of the blood.

  She nervously touched her shoulder and gasped softly, “Miss Fisher?”

  There was no response, and Sidney knew instantly that she was dead. Trisha realized it too and began to scream hysterically. Sidney turned on her knees to her panicking friend.

  “Go get help!”

  Trisha vigorously nodded her head, backed up a couple of steps, then turned and ran across the bridge. Sidney sat back on her feet while feeling her heart pounding in her chest. She couldn’t seem to look away. Tears welled in her eyes, and she bit her quivering lower lip. It seemed like a lifetime, although it was only a matter of minutes before she finally looked past her dead teacher and fought her tears. Her eyes strayed to the blood-covered rock near Miss Fisher’s outstretched hand. Sidney let out a soft gasp at the sight of the double vertical lines drawn in blood on the rock then to the blood on Miss Fisher’s finger. She’d left a message!

  Sidney slowly stood and backed away from the body. She felt oddly cold throughout her trembling body. The reality of the situation dawned on her. Sidney turned and hurried across the bridge. She could hear leaves rustling all around her now. The image of Alex Trexler scaling the hillside repeatedly flashed through her mind. Sidney hadn’t even realized she was running along the path through the woods toward town. Tears filled her eyes and blurred her vision to the point where she could no longer see. She heard a sound before her and collided with someone. Sidney cried out and struggled while blinking away the tears. Harlan held onto her arms and nearly dropped his camera.

  “Sidney, what’s wrong? I heard screaming,” he demanded while searching her eyes. “What happened?” He touched her tear streaked cheek. His concern quickly turned to anger. “Did someone hurt you?”

  She shook her head and held her breath. “It’s--it’s Miss Fisher. She’s been killed.”

  Harlan’s color drained from his face as his mouth fell open. “Emily Fisher?”

  Sidney nodded and grabbed his arm. “Come on,” she gasped and pulled him toward the bridge. Harlan ran behind her and stopped on the bridge as soon as he saw the dead woman on the bank. His mouth opened with an apparent look of shock.

  “Are you sure she’s--?”

  Sidney stared off the bridge and nodded. She turned toward him and searched his eyes while nervously biting her lower lip. “Trisha went for help.”

  Harlan looked away from the body and raked trembling fingers through his hair. He then looked back at the dead woman and held his breath. A strange realization swept over Sidney as she realized he was more worried than upset.

  “Are you okay?” she asked softly.

  Harlan looked away, set his camera down, and supported himself against the bridge with both hands. Sidney studied his profile while he stared across the stream at the body. A flood of emotions swept through Sidney.

  “Trisha and I saw her boyfriend leaving here. He took off in his car right before we found her,” Sidney said timidly and softly sniffed. “They had a terrible fight today at school.”

  Harlan’s head snapped in her direction. His eyes rolled shut as he held his breath then looked at her and straightened. “I saw her less than two hours ago. I know how this town feels about outsiders. It wouldn’t look good for me. I hope you understand,” he said gently.

  Sidney continued to search his eyes even though her body trembled from the shock. She could tell
he was genuinely scared. She rubbed her chilled arms, looked back at the body, and fought her tears.

  Harlan shut his eyes, placed his arms around her, and held her against him. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to sound insensitive,” he whispered softly to her. “You’ve had a terrible shock.”

  Sidney clung to him and began to sob uncontrollably. She realized Miss Fisher wasn’t coming back. Even in Harlan’s arms, there was no comfort to be found.

  Chapter Seven

  Sidney lay on her bed and stared at her dresser across the room. She could hear her mother and father arguing downstairs. Although she couldn’t hear what they said, she knew it involved her. Sidney hadn’t left her room the entire weekend and barely ate anything. She sat up in bed and reached for the discarded newspaper folded to the article on Miss Fisher’s murder. Sidney read it nearly fifty times.

  The headline read, “Teacher raped and murdered in Marilina.” Sidney drew a shaken breath and again read the entire article. It went into gory detail about how the beloved teacher had been beaten and stabbed once in the abdomen. The police determined she had deliberately placed two lines in her own blood on the rock just near her head before dying, although they still hadn’t figured out the significance of it. The article mentioned two teenage girls witnessed Alex Trexler fleeing the scene of the crime, and how Mr. Taylor claimed he nearly hit Alex’s blue car on Cressman Road just moments later.

  A pack of matches had been found on the side of the road with Sam’s Tavern printed on them, and Alex’s fingerprints were found on the matches. Alex was arrested an hour later at Sam’s Tavern. When questioned, Alex admitted having consensual intercourse with Emily at the old stone house but insisted he didn’t kill her. He left her at the stone house immediately afterward, claiming he had to go to work. He insisted he returned at quarter till five, a half an hour later, to give her an engagement ring he had purchased the previous day. He claimed she was already dead when he found her on the bank just before the bridge. Out of fear, he fled the scene. The murder weapon, possibly a pocketknife, wasn’t found.

  Sidney lowered the paper and drew a deep, shaken breath. The tears once more began to flow freely. She collapsed on her bed and buried her head in her pillow.

  §

  It was a week later before Sidney finally left her room and went downstairs. She hadn’t heard from nor called Trisha since they’d found Miss Fisher’s body. Her mother washed breakfast dishes and immediately turned when she saw Sidney.

  “Morning, baby, would you like something to eat?” she asked while beaming cheerfully.

  Sidney swallowed dryly and nodded. “Yes,” she said timidly.

  Her mother’s mouth opened with surprise then she smiled with a slight gleam in her eyes. “What would you like?”

  “Toast,” Sidney replied in a weak tone.

  Sidney ate one slice of toast and felt sick immediately following. She slowly rose from the table and looked around the kitchen while rubbing her cold arms beneath her sweatshirt.

  “I’m going for a walk, okay?” she said softly.

  Her mother cleaned up her dishes and nodded. “Would you like some company?”

  “No, I want to go alone,” she whispered.

  Sidney left the kitchen and passed her father’s gun cabinet. She paused and stared at the guns, rifles, and knives through the glass. Her eyes focused on one of the knives. She drew a shallow breath and walked out the front door. The sun was shining brightly although it was cool that morning. Somehow, Sidney felt different now. She walked along the street and approached the woods. Something made her stop just short of the path. She turned and walked along Cressman Road then onto the main road into town. Cressman Road was dangerous to walk. It had sharp curves, steep banks, and limited shoulder along thick woods. It took nearly twenty minutes longer to arrive in town, but Sidney couldn’t force herself to walk across the bridge in the woods.

  Sidney shoved her hands in her pockets and shivered slightly from the cool October air. She walked into town. Everything looked so different in just one week. As she approached the library, she saw Mrs. Cooper and Mrs. Randall rush down the steps and hurry toward her.

  “Oh, Sidney,” Mrs. Cooper cooed. “How are you?”

  They fussed over her for a few minutes before Sidney was able to escape with little more than a ‘hello’ and ‘I’m fine’. She continued on her journey down the sidewalk through the exceedingly small town and could hear both women talking about her as she walked away. Trisha’s mother hurried from the diner and rushed across the street. She was nearly hit by a passing car to reach Sidney. Sidney paused and waited for her.

  Mary Allister stopped just before her with a strange look on her face. It was hard to say if it was relief or concern. “Hi, Sidney,” she said gently with a sympathetic look in her eyes. “It’s good to see you up and about.”

  Sidney forced a tiny smile. “How’s Trisha? Did she go back to school?”

  Mary’s expression faded, and she shook her head. “She hasn’t left her room. She won’t even talk to me.”

  That explained Mary’s emotional state. Sidney already knew what Trisha’s mother was thinking. Sidney drew a deep breath and took her cue.

  “I’ll stop by later today when I’ve had time to get myself together,” Sidney announced.

  Facing Trisha wasn’t going to be an easy task. They were bound to discuss the death of Miss Fisher, but it was the last thing Sidney wanted to talk about. Mary unexpectedly hugged Sidney then returned to the diner. Sidney continued her journey to the press. She paused outside the shop and watched her father through the window. She took a deep, shaken breath and entered the store. When he saw her, her father’s mouth fell open and a smile quickly followed.

  “Sidney, it’s good to see you out of your room,” he said gently, obviously attempting to keep from making a big deal of it.

  She forced a tiny smirk. “I’ve stared at those four walls long enough.” She held her breath and felt a dull pang in her chest. “Is Harlan in the back?”

  Her father’s expression dropped, and he looked down at the desk. “Harlan left town,” he said gently then looked back at her. “He won’t be coming back.”

  Sidney’s mouth opened slightly as surprise flooded her. “He quit?”

  Her father cleared his throat. “Just moved on.”

  “Without saying goodbye?”

  He looked down and shifted uncomfortably. “It’s best that he didn’t, Sid. You weren’t up to having visitors anyway.”

  Sidney lowered her head and closed her eyes. “I’d better go see Trisha,” she said softly and hurried from the press.

  §

  Six months later the paper read, “Verdict is back on the murder of Emily Fisher. Her boyfriend, Alex Trexler, was found guilty of murder and sentenced to life in prison.”

  Chapter Eight

  June 1989. Eight years later. Sidney walked through the lavishly decorated lobby of the ritzy hotel. She wore a black skirt suit and her hair up in a French twist. She had a fast, determined walk with her head held high, conveying an air of self-confidence. She examined the fresh flowers on the oak tables with a pleased look as she approached the elegant, sculpted front desk. A bellman walked past and gave a nod.

  “Morning, Ms. McBride,” he announced cheerfully.

  “Good morning, Stan,” she replied in a lively tone then paused before the stylish registration desk.

  “Morning, Ms. McBride,” all three women in neatly ironed uniforms chimed almost simultaneously.

  “Good morning. Did I miss much?” Sidney asked with a tiny smile.

  “The Brodricks didn’t have any towels last night and the woman in room 927 claims she saw a cockroach,” Tessie replied pleasantly.

  “Not in my hotel,” Sidney said firmly then laughed. “I’ll call an exterminator when I reach my office. Anything else?”

  “Someone called for you early this morning while you were in the cafe,” Tessie informed her. “Said they’d call back.”r />
  Sidney groaned. “I hope it’s not going to be one of those phone days. I hate being tied to the phone.”

  “You should have let the company give you one of those cellular phones,” Tessie remarked. “You could carry it with you and make calls from just about anywhere in the city.”

  “Yeah, that’s all I need,” Sidney remarked, “being tied to my phone twenty-four seven.” She then waved her hand. “Besides, those phones won’t catch on. It’d just be a waste of money. I’ll stick with my pager.” Sidney never understood why so many people were interested in carrying a portable phone on them anyway. “Is the champagne basket in room 2740?”

  “Ready for our important guest,” Tessie replied with a wink and a knowing smile.

  “Great. Alert me when he arrives,” Sidney said. “I’ll be in my office--on the phone.”

  She walked past the front desk to a door marked ‘General Manager’ and entered her office. She closed the door behind her and sat in the swivel chair behind the large mahogany desk. As Sidney reached for the phone, it rang before she touched it. She groaned lowly.

  “It’s starting early today,” she muttered and picked up the receiver. She leaned back in the chair and instinctively crossed her legs. “Sidney McBride speaking.”

  “Sidney,” came the faint, familiar female voice.

  Sidney leaned forward and banged her knee on the desk. She cringed a moment then gasped, “Trisha? Is that you?”

  “You have to come home. It’s important,” Trisha said in a whisper.

  “Home? Where? To Marilina?” Sidney asked and frowned at the thought. “Why would I want to do that?” She fiddled with the fresh tear in her stocking.

  “You just have to come here. Please, Sidney, promise you’ll come right away. I need your help. Promise you’ll come,” Trisha whispered into the phone with a sound of desperation. “If you don’t come, I don’t know what’ll happen.”

  “Trisha, I can’t just--”

  The phone went dead.

  “Trisha?”

  §