by Matt Lincoln
As we approached the hospital entrance, I looked up at the massive, cream-colored walls of the building. I could see the fluffy white clouds against a clear blue sky reflected in the windows along the building’s front facade. Sunrise Hospital was a beautiful structure that almost looked more like a fancy hotel than a hospital, though the palm trees that flanked the entrance and lined the road in front of it probably contributed to its luxurious appearance.
A large “welcome” sign greeted us as we made our way through the front entrance. The inside of the building looked just as ostentatious as the outside, with high ceilings and shining surfaces all around the main lobby. I wasted no time in approaching the stout, friendly-looking woman sitting behind the desk.
“Good morning,” the woman smiled cheerfully as I came to a stop in front of her. “How can I help you today?”
“I’m Agent Castillo,” I answered as I pulled my badge out of my pocket. “And this is Agent Patel. We’re with MBLIS, here to speak to a Mrs. Simone Montague.”
“Of course,” the woman nodded as she turned to type something into her computer. “She is in room two-thirty-seven. There’s a police guard stationed outside her door, so you can’t miss it. I’ll send word up that you’re heading up there.”
“Thank you.” I nodded before turning away and heading further into the hospital.
The layout was simple enough, and we found the elevators just a moment later. However, the second floor was a little more confusing as the room numbers appeared to be arranged with even numbers opposite each other. Eventually, though, we spotted the officer that the receptionist had mentioned.
“Hello!” I called as we approached him.
He was staring down at his phone, and his thumbs were rapidly pressing the screen as though he was playing some kind of game. His head snapped up at us when he heard me call out.
“I’m Agent Castillo with MBLIS,” I informed him as I drew my badge out of my pocket to show him. “This is Agent Patel. We’re here to speak with Simone Montague.”
“Oh, hi,” he replied as he tucked his phone away. “Grover told me you’d be coming. I got a call from the front desk that a couple of federal agents were here and started to wonder if you got lost. I know the hallways here are a little confusing.”
“We got a little turned around,” Naomi smiled politely. “We’re here now, though.”
“Yeah, of course,” the officer responded as he stepped away from the door to let us through. “You two need me to accompany you or anything?”
“I think we’ll be fine,” I smiled at him. “Oh, but have you noticed anything odd about her behavior?”
“Not really,” the officer shrugged. “I’m not an investigator or anything like that, though. I’m just here so that she doesn’t try to flee. Never heard a peep from her. Her husband’s in there, too, but he’s not the one under suspicion, so I can’t stop him from coming or going.”
“He’s in there right now?” Naomi asked. She sounded shocked, and I wasn’t surprised. If Simone was being held under suspicion of having attacked her own children, she usually wouldn’t be allowed to have visitors unsupervised.
“Yeah,” the officer sighed. “It’s a mess. The husband was the one who called the cops on her, but then he recanted, and now he’s saying there must have been a misunderstanding and he won’t cooperate. Of course, it’s not up to him whether the prosecutor goes forward with the charges, but it’ll be a lot harder without his testimony. Right now, the police are kind of unsure how to handle this, but we still need to keep an eye on her, especially now that we know this could be part of a bigger deal.”
“Well, we might as well speak with him while we’re at it,” Naomi mumbled as she pushed the door open. I walked in behind her. Lying on the hospital bed was a gaunt-looking woman with ashen skin and sunken eyes. Standing beside her was a man with mousy brown hair wearing glasses. He was holding her hand and looking at her like she was the center of his world.
“Good morning,” Naomi greeted them curtly.
“Hi,” the man answered nervously. “Can we help you?”
“I’m Agent Patel,” Naomi answered as she pulled her badge out of her bag to show them. “And this is my partner, Agent Castillo. We’re with the Military Border Liaison Investigative Services. We need to ask your wife some questions about the night of the incident.”
“She’s exhausted,” the man responded defensively. “And she’s already explained this all to the cops.”
“It’s fine, Jeffrey,” Simone rasped out weakly. Her voice was faint, and I could hear how the effort of speaking caused her to wheeze around every word. “They’re just doing their jobs.”
“Thank you for being so understanding,” I smiled at her as I took a seat in an empty chair by her bed. Her husband was standing opposite me on the other side, watching me warily despite his wife’s okay. “Can you start by giving us a summary of what happened that night?”
“It’s hard for me to remember,” Simone croaked. “It’s all in bits and pieces, and a lot of it doesn’t make sense.”
“What do you mean by not making sense?” I asked.
“I remember things that are impossible,” she explained. “Like a horse standing in the living room, and these two little demons who were chasing me around and poking me with knives.”
“She was acting funny,” Mr. Montague interrupted. “Right before she got violent, she was stumbling around and talking about seeing things that weren’t there. Then suddenly, she started screaming and ran right for Caleb, our youngest. I managed to pull her away and told him and his sister to go hide in the bathroom. Then she turned on me, but it was like she couldn’t see me. She was screaming something about demons and devils, and she was so strong. I tried to restrain her, but she pushed me off like it was nothing. I didn’t want to hurt her, so I ran to the bathroom with the kids and locked the door. Then I called nine-one-one. It all just happened so fast.”
Mr. Montague’s shoulders slumped as he finished his diatribe as if he’d just gotten something big off his chest.
“That sounds like a drug-induced delusional episode,” Naomi stated firmly. “Mrs. Montague, had you taken any drugs before the incident?”
“No,” Simone rasped. “I’ve never even smoked a cigarette. I had just woken up from a nap. My head was swimming, but I thought it was just grogginess from waking up. Then everything began to change. It was like I was on a different planet. Everything was colored bright pink and green and orange. It was so pretty at first, but then these two horrifying little demons started chasing me around. I tried to call out to Jeffrey, but my voice wouldn’t work. I had this horrible feeling that if I didn’t destroy those awful little demons, they would go after my precious babies next.”
I frowned as I listened to Simone’s account of that day’s events. It was clear that she had been hallucinating and had mistaken her own children for demons, but we still didn’t know how she’d gotten to that state. She claimed she hadn’t taken any drugs, and she really didn’t seem like she was lying about that.
“Again,” Naomi continued, “that very much sounds like you were under the influence of something that warped your perception. We aren’t here to judge you, Ms. Montague, but we really need to know if you took anything that night.”
“There’s no way she did!” Mr. Montague snapped angrily. “She’s a homemaker! We have two kids under five years old. They aren’t even in school yet. When would she have found the time to do drugs? Someone must have dosed her or something!”
I frowned sympathetically at Mr. Montague’s outburst. The truth was that drug addicts were often very adept at hiding their addictions from their friends and family, and it wasn’t unheard of for mothers to purchase drugs while, say, out at a park with their kids. Somehow, though, I didn’t think that was the case here. It was nothing but my own intuition, but I didn’t believe that Simone had willingly put herself in that state.
“We heard about other cases,” Simone wheezed.
“On the news, they were talking about the attacks. People like me suddenly going crazy and attacking others.”
“That’s right,” Mr. Montague chimed in. “Someone’s going around drugging people and making them go nuts, isn’t he? Why aren’t you out there trying to catch him instead of hassling my wife? She the victim here!”
“We’re trying, Mr. Montague,” Naomi replied calmly. “But to catch him, we need as much information as we can get. That’s why I really need Simone to try to remember how all those drugs got into her system. The toxicology report the police ran came back positive for a multitude of different drugs. I’m not looking to get her in trouble. I just want to stop this from happening to anyone else.”
“I really didn’t take anything, though,” Simone replied sadly. “Well, unless you count the cough syrup. But that was just over-the-counter medicine I got from the corner store.”
“When did you take it?” I asked warily.
“Right before it happened,” Simone replied. “That’s why I was napping. I had caught a little bug and was trying to sleep it off. I took some of the cough syrup right before I went to sleep. Then I woke up and, well, you know the rest.”
I glanced over at Naomi, who looked back at me with a grave expression.
“Do you still have that cough syrup?” Naomi asked.
“Yeah, I think we do,” Mr. Montague replied. “I think I put it back in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. Why? Do you think that’s what caused it? Is someone spiking medicine?”
“We’re about to find out,” Naomi replied. “We’ll need that bottle, Mr. Montague.”
“Of course,” he answered shakily before standing up and turning to his wife. “I’ll be right back, honey.”
“Okay,” she replied weakly. Her voice was faint, but I could see fear in her wide eyes. “Just hurry and get that stuff out of my house.”
I crossed my arms over my chest to stop my hands from shaking as we made our way out of the hospital. I didn’t want to think about the possibility that someone was spiking medicine with dangerous drugs. How many innocent people would be affected if that was the case? I forced the thought out of my mind. We weren’t even sure yet if the cough syrup was laced. It could end up just being a coincidence. Until we had more solid proof, I needed to stay clear-headed and focused.
7
Charlie
I pulled off my jacket before falling heavily into my desk chair. Junior and I had ended up coming back to the office without anything new to report. After we’d subdued Mrs. Evans, Junior and I had combed through the entire house, but we hadn’t found any traces of any illicit substances found in Dominick Evans’s toxicology report. His wife, Prudence Evans, had displayed aggressive behavior similar to Dominick’s when she’d attacked Junior, so it was likely she had taken whatever he had.
“Hey, you’re back,” Fiona greeted us as she approached us in the bullpen. She pulled Miranda’s chair away from her desk and dragged it over so she could sit between our desks. “Did you find anything?”
“We found a woman drugged out of her mind,” I retorted. “But nothing that will actually help us with the case.”
“Is that how this happened?” she asked as she took hold of Junior’s wrist and pushed his shirt sleeve up his arm. A tiny spot of red was blooming over the bandage where blood had managed to seep through.
“It’s just a little nick,” Junior shrugged. “She came at me with a knife. I managed to stop her, but it grazed my wrist.”
Fiona huffed and frowned at Junior.
“Dating a federal agent is too stressful,” she grumbled dramatically. “I swear, every single one of you gets hurt somehow on every case we get.”
“You’re a federal agent, too,” Junior protested.
“I sit behind a desk all day,” she retorted. “Not that I wouldn’t mind going out in the field more, but somehow that desire wanes every time I see one of you stumble back to the office covered in new injuries.”
“Didn’t someone send a bomb to you last year?” Junior countered. “You’re in just as much danger as the rest of us, especially with how much time you spend illegally hacking and messing around in things you shouldn’t.”
I watched them banter for a few more seconds, feeling increasingly more like a third wheel with every moment that passed.
“Alright,” I interrupted uncomfortably. “I’m gonna go get something to eat from the break room.”
“No, wait,” Fiona stopped me as I moved to get up. “Sorry, I completely forgot I came over here for a reason. I cross-referenced all the perps, and I wanted to talk to you guys about the results.”
“Okay.” I reluctantly sat back down.
“Right,” she nodded. “So I couldn’t find anything solid linking any of the attackers. They varied wildly in everything from race, gender, occupation, socio-economic status, and even age. The oldest was a sixty-seven-year-old woman who attacked her mailman when he tried to deliver a package, and the youngest was a seventeen-year-old private school student who went completely nuts on his science teacher in the middle of class. He is currently in a coma.”
“Seriously?” Junior frowned. I understood his frustration. I’d always felt it was especially awful any time a crime involved a kid.
“I know,” Fiona grimaced. “I did find something weird, though. All these incidents took place in the past month, but there was a rash of similar attacks about three months ago. The only difference is that the incidents from three months ago were all perpetrated by drug addicts, and most of the victims were also drug addicts. The police just kind of shrugged and brushed it off, and it wasn’t until now that they connected them to the newer cases.”
“They ignored the crimes?” I asked incredulously. “Just because they were addicts doesn’t mean they weren’t people.” I sighed in frustration. Before I’d become a law enforcement officer myself, I’d had my fair share of run-ins with cops who saw me as disposable or unimportant just because I was homeless. It made me sick that a cop would just dismiss someone like they were trash.
“Yeah, it’s awful,” Fiona frowned. “But at least we know about it now. We won’t just brush people aside like they did.”
She smiled at me sympathetically, and my anger abated somewhat.
“Agents!” Wallace bellowed as he rushed out of his office and toward the bullpen. Fiona jumped at the uncharacteristically loud volume of his voice, and even I was shocked into silence. “We have some bad news. Prudence Evans has just died in her hospital room.”
“What?!” I exclaimed as I shot out of my seat. Fiona clapped her hands over her mouth in shock.
“They’re still unsure exactly what happened,” he continued thoughtfully. “Apparently, she was sedated once she made it to the hospital. She appeared to be resting and stable, but she suddenly took a turn for the worse. She coded, and the staff was unable to resuscitate her. Because of the circumstances surrounding the case and her arrest, it’s being presumed that her death was a result of a drug overdose.”
“But..?” Fiona asked. I could tell that there was something Wallace was leaving out as well.
“People are talking,” Wallace admitted. “They’re saying maybe Hills or Chapman had something to do with her death.”
“That’s a load of--” Fiona yelled before snapping her mouth closed and pressing the palms of her hands into her eyes in frustration.
“I know it is,” Wallace grumbled. “But we were already on thin ice regarding everything that happened with the last case. Frankly, I think this might just be a ploy to shift the blame onto us. The hospital might be panicking, thinking they overlooked something. It’ll be easier for them to avoid a malpractice suit if they can point the finger of blame onto someone else.”
“What do we do now?” Junior asked seriously. I could tell he was nervous, which wasn’t surprising considering he was the one who had grappled with Mrs. Evans in the kitchen before I’d arrived. I’d heard a commotion and glass shattering, so I couldn’t honest
ly say that I knew what had happened in there. Not that I would ever betray my partner.
“For now, nothing,” Wallace replied. “Right now, these are all just rumors. I haven’t received any official orders or instructions, so we’ll continue to operate as normal. I just wanted to let you know what’s going on so that you aren’t blindsided. No doubt this will affect our reputation among local law enforcement.”
“Great,” I scoffed sarcastically. Fiona had calmed down and was now glaring angrily into space. The four of us fell into an uneasy silence. A moment later, I snapped my head toward the entrance as the silence was broken by the beep of the keypad being unlocked.
“Director Wallace!” Miranda called as she stormed into the office with Naomi hot on her heels. “We might have found something.”
She reached into her work bag and pulled out a clear, plastic evidence bag. Inside was a single red bottle of what looked like medicine.
“What is that?” Fiona asked as she stepped forward to examine the bag.
“Cough syrup,” Miranda replied as she handed the bag over to her. “We spoke to the only surviving perpetrator. She was in bad shape, but she managed to tell us that she’d had some of this right before she attacked her kids and husband.”
“There was a bottle just like that at the Evans house,” Junior remarked as he took the bag from Fiona. “When I was searching the house, I remember there being a bunch of tissues and painkillers and a bottle just like this on the coffee table. Mrs. Evans told me she was feeling under the weather right before she attacked me, so I figured either she or Dominick must have been sick recently.”
“No,” Fiona groaned. “There’s no way. Please tell me somebody isn’t spiking medicine with amphetamines and opioids. Kids take this stuff!”
