Deadly Double Page 5

  He lit the fireplace in the living room and master bedroom. From the upstairs linen closet, he gathered extra blankets and comforters. When he put everything in place, there was a mighty thunderclap overhead, and the lights went out.

  He returned to Josie’s bedside and changed her IV bag, mopped the sweat from her fevered brow, then settled back into the chair across from the bed and watched her.

  His thoughts wrestled with how she came to be admitted to a psychiatric ward under a false name. Could it truly be a case of mistaken identity? How likely was it that the hospital had gotten her mixed up with another patient?

  Slim to none.

  However, sixteen years was a long time. He’s lived another life since then and was sure that she had, too.

  His gaze fell away from the bed and slid to the medical chart on the vanity table next to him. He picked up the chart and flipped through it once again. All the while, the square box refused to cram into the small triangle.

  William set the chart aside. With everything he had attended to that day, he didn’t have much time to call Marcus Hines again. The cable was still out, and there was no way fro him to know who was murdered. Had the murder happened while he was on the premises? Did he leave any clues to his criminal actions?

  Scientist say there was always clues, but he prayed that, in his case, it wasn’t true.

  What if the woman was really Michelle Andrews?

  He cleared his head of this train of thought. He had been over it numerous times before he concocted his plan to steal her away. He wasn’t mad, and he hadn’t taken the wrong woman.

  An ear-piercing scream followed by a loud crash propelled William to his feet.

  From the bed, Josie flailed about like a mad woman. Her jumbled words were incomprehensible, but it was clear that she no longer wanted the IV in her arm.

  “No, no, Josie.” He rushed over to her and struggled to restrain her. At her surge of superhuman strength, William climbed onto the bed and pinned her hands down.

  In response, Josie bucked, thrashed, and, as a last desperate attempt, sank her teeth into his arm.

  He clenched his jaw shut. No matter what, he refused to release his hold on her, and after what seemed like an eternity, she gave up and drew away from his arm.

  Seconds later, the fight left her body, and she fell limp beneath him.

  Panting heavily, William held firm, suspicious of her abrupt surrender. Finally, as his adrenaline waned and Josie’s breathing became slow and even, he sighed with relief and released his grip. Immediately, Josie came up with a left hook that literally stunned him but didn’t knock him off of her.

  “Josie, stop. It’s me, William. I’m trying to help you.”

  She got another good blow across the high part of his left cheek before he was able to pin her back down.

  “No. No! Let me out,” she screamed.

  William’s heart raced while debated whether to give her a sedative. In the end, to do so would be counterproductive.

  Josie’s threats diminished to low grumbles.

  It was a long time before William relaxed. When he did, he was fairly confident that she was sound asleep. At least he prayed she was. He couldn’t take another blow to the head.

  He climbed off her and exhaled in a long, tired breath. He definitely had his work cut out for him, and he expected more outbursts before daybreak.

  After he checked Josie’s IV tube, he righted the stand and spotted an old porcelain basin across the room. He stood up from the bed and walked over to retrieve it.

  Minutes later, he’d filled the basin with iced water and gathered a few towels. He settled back beside the bed and dipped a towel into the water, wrung it out, and pressed it against her face.

  She sighed softly in her sleep as if it was the very thing she needed.

  The first seventy-two hours of detox were usually the hardest. He would do all he could to help her through it, even if it included being her punching bag.

  When he finished cooling her off, he put everything away and retuned to the armchair. The rain continued outside. Instead of drifting off to sleep, he heard a light plopping sound.

  He eased out of the chair again and quickly found the spot in the room where there was a small leak in the ceiling.

  He rushed back downstairs and found a bucket to set under the drip. After a quick look through the house, he found two other places where he had to set pots.

  Once he was through, he returned to the room and settled back into the armchair. But before he was able to close his eyes, Josie started up again.

  It was going to be a long night.

  Chapter 9

  First thing Sunday morning, the rain finally stopped, and William found himself on the roof of the house. As a man who loved working with his hands, he found repairing the roof almost therapeutic.

  Once he was through, he checked on his patient before heading back out to chop firewood. With him returning to work the next day, he now worried about the atmosphere at Keystone. The electricity and cable were still out, so he had no idea what was being reported on the news. At one point, his curiosity led him to sit on the car for news snippet, but he heard nothing. Because of that, he shied away from calling other colleagues to puck their brains on what was going on.

  He also had the added worry of leaving Josie with Ecaterina. If her condition didn’t improve, there was no way he could leave her with a sixty-eight-year old woman.

  The heavy exertion turned out to be just the stress reliever he needed. By the time he finished wielding a heavy ax and carrying the logs inside, he was ready for a hot shower and a nap.

  The nap never came.

  Instead he made mashed potatoes over a gas stove. The food would be soft enough for Josie to eat and easy on her stomach. From the cabinet, he retrieved a packet of instant apple cider and prepared that as well.

  Josie remained curled in her favorite position with all the covers tucked beneath her.

  He couldn’t help but smile as he moved over to the bed. He set down the tray and pressed a hand the bed. He set down the tray and pressed a hand against Josie’s forehead to check for a fever. It was against Josie’s forehead to check for a fever. It was still slightly elevated, but nothing life threatening.

  “Josie, I’m going to sit you up now,” he said, but he might as well be talking to a rag doll.

  Concerned, he checked the dilation of her eyes and again found nothing to be worried about.

  “Well, let’s see if I can get you to eat something.” He propped her up against the bed pillows and reached for the bowl.

  He apportioned a small amount of potatoes onto a spoon, but couldn’t get Josie to eat. After about a half hour of coaxing, he gave up and put the food aside.

  Two hours later, he tried again and still had no success.

  As the day sped along, William struggled not to be alarmed by Josie’s behavior. It had been forty-two hours since he’d taken her from the institute, and by his calculations, she should be responding to the methadone and coming out of her fog.

  With a frustrated sigh, he took the dishes back downstairs. He prepared himself another bowl of pasta and grabbed a warm beer from the fridge. He hoped the electricity would be back on before Ecatherina showed up Monday.

  “Tomorrow,” he moaned. He would have to act as if nothing had happened. He frowned as he remembered Saturday’s news report. He really should try to call Hines again, but should he be worried? When he returned to work, would it be a trap?

  He drew in a tired breath. He wasn’t at all comfortable with lying, but, at this point, what choice did he have?

  He grabbed a second beer and after achieving a good buzz was able to set his fears aside.

  The day passed with no violent outburst from Josie. It was close to midnight before he was able to get her to eat anything, and she was still unaware of her surroundings.

  He tucked her hack into bed before he settled in for another night in the armchair. But he couldn’t sleep. He
couldn’t stop wondering what was going to happen when Josie finally woke up; when she was finally able to recognize him.

  He imagined that she wouldn’t be too happy.

  Lowering his gaze, he contemplated grabbing another beer. He needed something to numb his growing anxiety; not that it was entirely aimed at Josie, but more toward himself for letting her go in the first place.

  As the night ticked on, William was content to listen to Josie’s steady breathing. Hours later, exhaustion finally claimed him. However, he didn’t sleep long before the sun’s early rays sliced through the blinds and warmed his face.

  It was time to face the day. Time to return to the scene of the crime. He glanced at his Timex and saw he had less than an hour before Ecaterina arrived.

  Standing, he stretched and popped his aching bones. A painful cramp lingered in his neck, but it was undoubtedly a direct result of his sleeping arrangement.

  He walked over to the bed.

  Josie was still out of it.

  How could he leave her like this? What would he tell Cat now?

  “Okay. Pull yourself together,” he said. After giving himself a moment to think everything over, he realizing that he didn’t have a choice but to follow his original plan. He couldn’t call in sick, and he was pretty sure Josie’s violent episodes were over. Heck, at this rate, there was a good chance that she would still be knocked out when he returned.

  Exhaling, he reached into the drawer for a new hypodermic needle, gave Josie her morning injection, and changed her IV bag.

  Afterward, he rushed to get himself ready for work. While he dressed he wondered if he should change his story with Ecaterina. How much should her tell her? If she’d seen the news reports about Keystone, would she put two and two together?

  A new wave of anxiety gripped him. He had expected Josie to be conscious by now, and he would have convinced her to play along with having a simple flu bug. Now, the only thing he could do was pray…pray that Josie slept until he returned from work.

  A loud knock on the front door jerked William from his private reverie. It was time.

  Another knock accompanied the visitor’s persistent ringing of the doorbell.

  William rushed down, peeked through the peephole, and smiled as he welcomed his long time friend and housekeeper into the house.

  “Good morning, Cat.”

  “Morning.” She breezed through the door. “Traffic was crazy.” She peeled off her coat and tossed it up on a gold hook behind him. “So where is she?”

  He closed the door. “She’s upstairs in the master bedroom. Sleeping.”

  “It’s so nice of you to do this for your sister-in-law,” Cat said, and removed her scarf. “Then again, you’ve always been such a kind person. Are there any special instructions?”

  “Yeah. Uh.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to think where he wrote everything down. “I think it’s all upstairs. I’ll go get it. I need to finish changing anyway.” He walked over and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “The electricity is out from the storm the other night. Is that going to be a problem?”

  “Nah. I’m a tough old bird. I can handle it. What happened to your head?”

  William touched the bruised above his eye. “Just me being clumsy.” He smiled. “I owe you big for doing this.”

  “Yeah. Yeah. Place a dozen roses on my grave when I’m gone, and we can call it square.”

  William smiled. “Tell you what, I’ll buy them sooner than that.”

  Even better.” She winked, then headed into the kitchen. “You better hurry up. You’re already running late.”

  He nodded and then rushed up the stairs. He was suddenly confident in his decision to ask Cat to watch Josie.”

  Opening the bedroom door, William’s mind was awhirl with all the things he needed to do and what might be waiting for him when he arrived at work. He walked over to the bed and gazed down at Josie.

  He didn’t want to leave, but he didn’t have a choice. “I’ll be back,” he whispered, but it was a statement of hoe rather than a promise. He had no idea what awaited him at Keystone.

  Turning, he quickly grabbed everything he needed and headed out of the room.

  At the soft click of the door, Josie opened her eyes.

  Chapter 10

  An hour later, in record time, William arrived at Keystone. Despite his preparation in the car, his heart skipped a beat at the sight of police cars and newsstands monopolizing the employee parking deck. He rubbernecked to see what was going on as he scanned his parking card. When the Mechanical arm lifted, he rolled inside.

  The moment he saw the yellow crime tape surrounding a black BMW, a wave of nausea hit him. “Meredith,” he whispered, recognizing the car.

  A horn blared, and William slammed on his brakes just in time to avoid ramming a silver Mercedes that had suddenly backed up in front of him. While his heart pounded against his chest, he saw heads from the crime scenes swivel in his direction.

  “So much for keeping a low profile,” he chastised himself under his breath.

  When the silver Mercedes pulled out of its parking space, William recognized the flaming mane of Dr. Ambrose Turner and gave him a quick wave of apology.

  As a matter of convenience William with his Navigator into a vacant spot. “Keep it together. Keep it together,” he coached. Everything wrote of his being cool. No one should suspect him and Michelle Andrews disappearance. After all, she wasn’t even his patient.

  Climbing out of the car, he grabs his things and headed toward the building.

  “Sir!” Someone shouted.

  We and kept moving.

  “Hey, you!” The voice thundered again.

  If finally dawn on William that the person was talking to him. He turned around and when he caught the wave of an approaching police officer, his stomach dropped somewhere between his knees.

  “You must be a mute or own world,” the baby-faced cop commented, flashing him a quick smile.

  “Can I help you?” Williams said.

  The cops found stabbed back in a line of cars. “Your lights. You left the lights on.”

  “My lights?” A second pass before the man’s words sank in, and for waiting to react. He faced his car again just as the headlines automatically shut off.

  “Oh, look at that,” the cop said. “I guess you didn’t deny help after all.”

  Williams only manage a benign smile. “Guess not.”

  The cop shrugged and turned away.

  Relieved, William continued toward the building, all the while his nerves rattling. He had made it inside yet, and he was already a wreck.

  During his short trek to the building his mind wandered to what could’ve happened to Meredith Bancroft. The doctor’s kind a surface from his memory, and the nausea returned. He had known her long, as he’d only been working at the institute six weeks. However, he’d been impressed not only by the positions intelligence, but also bought her sharp wit and easy disposition.

  Strolling through the doors of the Institute, William dragged himself out of his melancholy thoughts just as Dr. Rae Coleman nearly bumped into him.

  “Oh, good morning,” she said, gushing up at him. “Just got off the graveyard shift. I haven’t seen you around. What happened to your head?”

  He relied on his previous explanation. “Just me being clumsy.”

  “You should be careful. Can you believe what’s going on around here?”

  “Actually, I don’t know much about it,” he said. “But that he is married his car taped off, isn’t it?”

  “I’m afraid so.” Ray abruptly changed her course toward the exit to backtrack and follow way into the hallways. “Dr. Bancroft was found dead in the talk of her car.”

  He stopped. Here in the words allow brought the tragedy home.

  “I know,” she said. “Were all upset about the news. But you should have seen poor Brian Bancroft. He said that he knew something was wrong when married and had made it home early Saturday mor
ning. It said he just knew in his gut that something bad had happened.”

  William imagined the man’s heartbreak. “My prayers go out to him.” He resumed walking with a heavy heart. “Where is Mr. Bancroft now?”

  “Grady Hospital.”

  He frowned at Rae as he pressed the up button for the elevator.

  “Heart attack,” she added. “This is just horrible all around.”

  Stunned, William blinked. “Is he going to be okay?”

  “We don’t know yet,” she said remorsefully. “Marcus is supposed to keep us posted.”

  A bell chimed, and the elevator door slid open.

  William stepped inside, hoping for a clean escape, but Rae followed him.

  “And guess what else,” Rae continued.

  “There’s more?” He swallowed while his stomach twisted in knots.

  “Yeah. We’re missing a patient: Michelle Andrews.”

  “What?” He asked for dramatic incredulity. Hopefully, he was overdoing it.

  “Hospital break, kidnapped, or just plain wandered off. We don’t know yet. I just know that the patient’s sister has been here and made holy hell with Marcus.”

  “Sister?”

  Rae rolled her eyes. “Oh. Consider yourself lucky you’ve never had to deal with that one. First time she came by to visit, and Andrews attacked her. I swear was like an old episode of Dynasty. Andrews gave her a black eye and everything. After that, we had to keep Andrews heavily sedated; for her safety as well as the staff’s.”