And even though I could see, I felt no sense of ease as bitterly cold air seemed to fill the space I was standing in. My radar was doing nothing but warning me to be cautious, and I really wanted to run out of this awful place and never, ever look back, but I kept thinking about Candice and how my radar also suggested she was in grave danger.
Feeling that my friend might not make it through the night was the only thing that kept me moving, but I didn’t really know where to go. The building was huge and it would take me forever to search it thoroughly. Pressing back against the wall and closing my eyes, I whispered, “Can I get some help here? Come on, guys, help me find Candice!”
Go to the stairs, came the answer.
“Stairs?” I mouthed, and peeked around the corner again. Sure enough, in the faint glow of the headlights I spotted something that looked like a banister on the other side of the lobby.
Digging into my pocket for the can of pepper spray, I crouched low and dashed across the lobby to the stairs, pressing myself up against the wall right next to them. “Upstairs or down?” I whispered.
Down.
“I was afraid you’d say that.” I gazed at the blackness of the staircase that descended to the lower level. There was the most awful energy coming up from there and nothing in the world could force me to go down those steps except the thought of what would happen to Candice if I didn’t. I closed my eyes again, mustering some courage, and I called out to my crew to watch my back before I took the first hesitant step.
I’d gone no farther than that when the interior of the hospital was split by another bloodcurdling scream that seemed to go on and on, and on. I flattened myself against the wall again and held the pepper spray right out in front of me, shaking so hard I could hear my teeth rattle. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!” I gasped.
The echo from the scream finally died away and I was truly paralyzed in fear. I couldn’t move and I could barely breathe and I couldn’t even think!
Move! My crew yelled in my head. Move now!
Somehow, their insistence caused me to do just that. The scream had come from somewhere on the first floor, and I wanted away from that noise and whatever had caused it as much as I’d ever wanted anything in my life.
I nearly stumbled and fell several times down the staircase, but somehow I made it to the bottom, where I again hugged the wall and tried not to faint. Keep going! my crew insisted again.
Tears formed in my eyes and slid down my cheeks. I didn’t want to.
Abby! they said. You have to move!
I was weeping now and trying desperately not to make any noise as I pushed away from the wall and felt my way down the corridor I was now in. Where? I demanded in my head when I seemed to be much deeper into the corridor.
To the end, then turn right.
I wiped my eyes and peered into the darkness. I could see nothing; it was pitch-black. I raised my flashlight, about to turn it on, when my crew yelled, NO! in my head.
I jumped and almost dropped the light. “I can’t see!” I whispered.
Move forward, then right, they replied, and the urgency of the thought made it clear that I needed to hustle.
Sniffling a bit, I edged down the hallway, jumping when someone upstairs slammed first one door, then two more. Hurry! my crew insisted. I quickened my pace and squinted. Ahead, about ten yards down, I swore it wasn’t as dark. I knew we were belowground, so I wondered where the light was coming from and very faintly I heard the distant sound of a motor.
As I reached the end of the corridor and turned the corner, I could tell that the hallway was lit by a light coming from that far end. Careful! my crew blasted into my head, and I ducked down and pulled myself back around the corner. My ears heard the faint sound of something and I strained to hear. It almost sounded like music, but there were voices talking or arguing too. Another door slammed and then something heavy sounded like it got knocked over.
There was another scream, but it wasn’t the same bloodcurdling sound as the one upstairs. This one was desperate and it formed the word “Don’t!”
Move now! my crew ordered, and I was back on my feet and rounding the corner. Run! they encouraged, and I did, closing the distance to the end of the corridor, where the strange light filtered through a set of double doors.
As I closed the distance, I could hear two distinctive voices. “You’ll never get away with it!” said a male.
“He’s right! Our backup is right behind us!”
“Candice!” I gasped. I’d recognize her voice anywhere.
And then there came a noise that almost stopped me in my tracks. It was the sound of something electric like a dentist’s drill, or a small saw. Above that, I heard someone say loudly, “Years ago they used this little gadget to perform lobotomies. I found it and a bunch of other really cool stuff in one of the lockers. I’ve read all the textbooks, and I think I know how it’s done. Of course, this might hurt a little without the aid of anesthesia, but probably only until the probe reaches the center of your brain.”
“Don’t hurt him!” Candice cried out desperately. “Please, God, stop!”
“Holy shit!” I swore, and ran faster. With my heart pounding in my chest and adrenaline coursing through my veins, I kicked through the double doors as the first pain-filled groan from Harrison filled the large room I crashed into.
The room was well lit and I could see him strapped down to a table while Michael Derby hovered over him with a long probelike drill. “Abby!” Candice screamed from another table nearby.
I didn’t even pause. Instead I charged directly at Michael, yelling some sort of primal battle cry as I lunged at him. His eyes bulged when he saw me coming straight at him, and he brought the drill up defensively, but I had the pepper spray and it had a longer reach. I squirted the contents right at him, but he ducked low and swiveled around. The forward momentum of my charge carried me straight at him and I aimed the spray again, but saw nearly too late that he was throwing the drill right at me!
I ducked at the last second and tripped over something, sending me sprawling to the floor as the pepper spray flew out of my hand. I could hear Michael scrambling toward me and Candice screamed again in warning. Reflexively I reached for anything close by to defend myself with, and my hand curled around the leg of a small table. Pulling that back with all the strength I could muster, I heard it connect with something and a loud “Ooomph” sounded right behind me.
I rolled onto my back just as Michael recovered, and flung the table aside and brought my legs into my chest, kicking them as hard as I could when he threw himself forward to tackle me.
I felt his weight hit me hard, but the adrenaline coursing through my veins was so intense that I managed to recover and shove him back all the way across the room, where he slammed into a tall cabinet. With a crazed look on his face he pushed off the cabinet and charged at me again. This time, I thought he managed to grab what looked like a surgical hacksaw.
“Look out!” Harrison shouted, and I didn’t really think I needed the added encouragement, because I quickly crawled underneath the table he was lying on, searching for anything to defend myself with. I found a metal tray on the floor and pulled it with me to the other side, but Michael was quicker than I’d anticipated and I looked up just as he was about to bring the saw down on me.
Somehow I managed to get the tray up in time, and the blade banged loudly against the metal of the tray but still sent a bolt of pain up my arm and caused me to drop the tray.
Whirling away from Michael as he wound his arm up for another crack at me, I heard something rattle next to me and a quick glance showed me that it was the can of pepper spray. Snatching it off the ground, I dived back under the table and shimmied to the other side, where I then jumped to my feet, whirled around and sprayed the shit out of Michael Derby. He dropped the hacksaw, reeling backward and covering his eyes with his hands while he squealed and screamed and thrashed around.
I ran at him and sprayed him again for good measur
e, then threw the pepper spray aside and picked up the metal tray from off the floor. I then hit Michael as hard as I could over the head. He sank to his hands and knees, squirming and thrashing around, trying to get away from me. I hit him again and again and again until he slumped over and was still. For good measure I hit him one last time and tossed the tray away, panting and squinting through the fumes of the pepper spray as my own eyes watered and teared.
Still in a bit of a panic, I looked around for something to tie him up with, unconvinced he would be unconscious for long. “My coat pocket,” said Harrison. “I’ve got a set of handcuffs in my right front pocket.”
I hurried over to Harrison, wincing a little as I noticed his temple was badly cut and bloody. I couldn’t get to the handcuffs because of all the straps tying him down, so I loosened them as quickly as I could and he sat up and fished them out himself before handing them to me.
I hurried back to Michael and pulled his hands behind him, struggling as my own hands shook so violently that I had a hell of a time getting his into the cuffs. Somehow I managed it, though, and stood up, my chest heaving as I fought to catch my breath. After a moment I remembered that I probably needed to help get Candice out of her straps too, but when I turned around I stopped short when I realized that Harrison had already beaten me to it. And what further astonished me was that he and Candice were now kissing each other with such mad passion that I actually had to avert my eyes.
“Jeez, you two!” I said, looking anywhere but at them. “Is this really the time and place?”
Peeking out of the corner of my eye, I saw that they were totally ignoring me, groping and hugging each other with fervor. “Okay,” I said awkwardly. “Well then . . . uh . . . I guess I’ll wait out in the car.”
Chapter Fifteen
I sat in the car for maybe ten minutes, still shaking and trembling from everything that had happened, when headlights appeared in the rearview mirror. Two cars pulled alongside the SUV just as Harrison and Candice emerged from the building hand in hand. The moment they spotted the other vehicles, however, they dropped each other’s hands and moved slightly apart.
I smirked and rolled my eyes. “Yeah, like no one could tell you two’ve been mashing,” I said to myself. There was a light tap on my window and I felt a flood of relief when I saw Dutch standing there, looking both worried and angry.
I opened my car door and grabbed him around the chest, hugging him so fiercely that he grunted. “What the hell are you three doing here?” he demanded.
I didn’t answer him. Instead I hugged him tighter. “Just hold on to me for a minute, cowboy, okay?”
Dutch’s strong arms encircled me and he wrapped his coat around me. “You’re trembling,” he said. “Abs, what happened to you?”
“The scene is secure,” Harrison announced, and I turned my head to see him addressing the agents gathering around me and Dutch. “Michael Derby’s inside. He’s conscious, but he might need medical attention. He fell while being maced and bumped his head.You’ll find him inside on the basement level, handcuffed and strapped to a table. In the cooler you’ll find the body of Leslie Coyle. Michael killed her, Bianca Lovelace, and Kyle Newhouse. He admitted everything to Ms. Fusco and me. We expect he’ll give a full confession without trouble.”
Two agents clicked on flashlights and moved in the direction of the front doors.
“Sir,” Dutch said, addressing Harrison.
“Agent Rivers,” Harrison said. “Good work. We likely never would have found this place if it hadn’t been for your research.”
Dutch smiled. Then he said, “And Abby’s intuition.”
I looked at Harrison, expecting him to scoff. He surprised me by saying, “The bureau owes a lot to Ms. Cooper, and I personally owe her my life.”
Candice beamed first at me, then at Harrison, and he smiled back at her all a-smitten. “Oh, boy,” I said.
Dutch seemed completely confused by everything that was going on. “Would someone please explain to me what’s happened here tonight?”
Harrison opened his mouth to tell him when another one of those bloodcurdling screams echoed from inside the building. Dutch immediately pulled away from me and whipped out his gun, as did all the other agents save Harrison, who shocked them some more by laughing.
“Holster your weapons, gentlemen,” he said calmly. “There’s no threat and no danger. That happens about every thirty to forty minutes or so.”
“Derby screams?” Dutch asked, his gun still at the ready.
Harrison and Candice exchanged an amused look. “No,” he said. “Not Derby. The hospital is haunted, you know. And one of the ghosts likes to shriek every half hour.”
“Don’t forget the big shadowy-looking thing that came right for you,” said Candice, elbowing Harrison good-naturedly. “I wonder if he even felt the three rounds you pumped into him.”
Harrison smiled wide and asked me, “Do ghosts notice when you shoot them?”
“Uh . . . ,” I said, feeling put on the spot. “I’m not really sure, sir.”
Dutch looked incredulously at his boss. “Agent Harrison, sir, are you feeling all right? I notice your head is bleeding.”
Harrison wiped absently at his temple and examined the blood on his hands. “I might need stitches,” he said to Candice.
“Come on,” she said. “I’ll drive you.” Then she turned to me and asked, “Did you want to come?”
I studied her face and knew that she would rather have a little alone time with Harrison now that they were all friendly and everything, so as much as I detested being anywhere near the haunted asylum, I willed myself to say, “No, that’s okay. You two go ahead and we’ll meet up for a debriefing later.”
As Candice passed me, she said, “Sorry about the keys, Sundance. I found them in my coat pocket and was on my way back to the car when Michael surprised me from behind and shoved some sort of rag soaked in chloroform in my face. I was out before I knew what was happening.”
“Don’t feel bad,” Harrison said. “That little punk did the same damn thing to me.”
“I’m just glad you two are okay,” I said.
“Thanks to you,” Candice said warmly, and reached out to give me a big hug. She must have noticed that I was still shaking a little, because she asked me again more earnestly to come with her and Harrison.
“Thanks, but I think I want to hang with Dutch for a while.” And even as I said it, I moved back into Dutch’s arms again.
“Okay,” Candice said, smiling at both of us. “Take care of her, Agent Rivers. She’s had a rough night.”
As Candice and Harrison were pulling away, lights in the hospital began coming on. Dutch looked at them and said, “I had no idea this place still carried electricity.”
“I think Derby hooked up the hospital generator,” I said. “I heard some kind of a motor around the back of the building.”
Dutch parked me in his warm sedan while he managed the crime scene. An agent had to be dispatched two miles down the road to get decent cell phone reception and call in the cavalry. Derby emerged from the building on a stretcher, and an ambulance took him away, but not before he fixed his swollen beady eyes on me and screamed, “You ruined everything!” To which I simply smiled and gave him a smarty-pants salute.
Leslie Coyle’s body was brought out next. She’d been frozen solid. Derby had put her in the freezer right after he’d killed her. Why he’d done that instead of simply burying her was a mystery, but what was even more surprising was a room next to where I’d found him about to lobotomize Harrison and Candice that was stocked with some women’s clothing, a blond wig, and a pair of size 14 pumps. Next to these articles of clothing had been a table with straps and a tray filled with every kind of torturous instrument imaginable. There was a bone saw, two drills, several picks, and a few mallets. And next to that was a letter addressed to Matthew Derby titled “Atonement.”
The letter went on to document every injury and wrongdoing that Michael felt he
had suffered at the hands of his father. The first offense sent a chill down my back. You killed my mother, it read.
You may not have held the gun to her head, but you pushed her to do it with all your twisted, sick perversions. I was there the night she died. I saw you parade around in front of her in your tight skirt and your high heels as you told her how you couldn’t stand the sight of her. How she didn’t even look attractive to you anymore. How you made a better woman than she ever did! You made me want to puke, and you made her feel like she’d failed as a wife and a mother. She took her life that night because of YOU!
It wasn’t until I read offense number ten that I understood why Bianca, Kyle, and Leslie had all been killed.
And the final reason I’m doing this to you, Dad, is because you had to go to the Cock Tail that night. You had to risk everything during the conference when you knew important people were in town, and guess what? You got caught. You were spotted by two of the kids I was hanging out with, and one of them was about to write a news story on you and all your twisted, sick addictions. But I took care of it before it became a big deal, which shows you that I was a better son to you than you ever were a father to me. I can’t wait until they find your body. I can’t wait until they put all the little clues I gave them together. They think I’m dead too, and they’ll never know what really happened. They’ll always suspect someone else.
Dutch read the letter out loud to me and in spite of how bent I knew Michael’s mind to be, I still felt a pang of sympathy for him. He’d obviously suffered a great deal in his youth, and I knew that with a different set of parents the bright, hardworking kid I’d caught a glimpse of would have turned out completely different. It felt like such a waste that it left me feeling really sad.
We found out later, during Michael’s confession, that his hadn’t been the only malicious mind involved in the plot that started last spring. The other handwriting in the notebook was in fact Leslie’s, and it was Leslie who first broke it to Michael that Bianca knew his father’s secret. Her phone records confirmed she and Michael had talked several times right before Bianca and Kyle went missing. The reason the task force missed seeing it when they were looking into her phone records was that they were focused on finding any communication among her and Bianca and Kyle, so they didn’t even look into the calls to a 312 area code.