Night Chill (32 page)

SEVENTY

The day passed with tortuous certainty, each minute followed the next no matter how hard Jack prayed for a reprieve. Lonetree kept a respectful silence and distance from his cellmate, as if he knew better than to offer any consoling words. Jack sat on the top bunk and alternately stared at the ceiling and out the window at the approaching storm.

Low, black clouds came down from the north which this time of year meant snowfall was a possibility. These clouds weren’t the soft grey of early season snow, but the angry darkness of massive thunderstorms the valley was known for. Jack thought it fitting. The growing weather matched his mood.

Around four in the afternoon, the rain started. A soft
pat-pat-pat
against the Plexiglass rectangle that served as their window. Trees started to jag back and forth as the wind gusted from multiple directions. Thunder rumbled down the length of the valley, far off, but still strong enough to make the Plexiglass shudder like the skin of a beaten drum. Jack peered out of the window. Judging from the sky, it was going to be a bad night. But then again, he knew that before he looked out the window.

The door to the cell block opened and Janney came in to check on his prisoners. He looked freshly showered, his still-damp hair combed back, his face clean-shaven.
Like he’s ready to go to church,
Jack thought.

“Just wanted to make sure your stay with us is comfortable,” Janney said.

“Don’t do this. I’ll do anything. Just let her go.”

Janney looked pleased, as if he relished taking over Huckley’s tormentor role. “Just let her go, huh? You think that would be a good idea?”

Lonetree pulled himself to his feet. “You’re wasting your time. Huckley and the Boss call the shots. The sheriff here can’t take a crap without asking first, isn’t that right, Janney?”

Janney’s obvious pleasure at Jack’s groveling disappeared and his usual scowl returned. “No one tells me what to do. Not Huckley. Not anyone.”

Lonetree continued to bait him. “Yeah, that was obvious today. Huckley’s a god, right? What does that make you then? His servant? Are you going to worship him when he tells you to?” He sneered at Janney. “Did Huckley ask you to take a shower? He probably likes his worshippers nice and clean, huh?”

“You’re already a dead man, Lonetree. You’re just choosing how painful it’s going to be.”

Lonetree spat through the bars. “You’re pathetic. You’re just going to sit there tonight and watch Huckley acquire more power over you. Him and this Boss character? Who is this guy anyway? Is he even around here? Do you let him order you around too? Maybe that’s your deal. You like taking orders.”

“Shut up.”

“Yeah, that’s you, Janney. Playing the bitch for all the big dogs.”

Janney’s nostrils flared and color rushed to his face. Jack watched him finger his gun and wondered if the temptation would prove too much. Maybe that was Lonetree’s goal. A quick death instead of the slow torture promised them.

“You don’t know anything. The Source gives us all power. Tonight we’ll all get a fix, not just Huckley.”

“But the Boss and Huckley most of all, right?” Lonetree smirked. “God, you’re pathetic.”

Jack thought Janney might pull his gun and shoot Lonetree on the spot. Instead, he slid the palm of his hand over his head, smoothing his hair down flat against his scalp. A broad smile broke out across his face. “You’re something else. A real prize. I’m going to enjoy watching you die. Slowly.” He turned and walked down to the door leading out of the cell block. He called out, “Take care, boys. It might be a rough one for you.” Then he was gone.

Jack turned to Lonetree. “What the hell were you doing?”

Lonetree sat on the lower bunk and started to take off his boots. “Some of that stuff was just to make him mad, but there was a lot of truth to it. You can tell Janney hates playing second string to Huckley. I’m just trying to help that resentment along.”

“So what does that do for us?” Jack said.

“Two things. First, a wedge between Huckley and Janney is something we might be able to exploit later. I wanted to put it in the front of his mind. Second, he just confirmed where they are all going to be tonight, right?”

Jack replayed the conversation in his head. “At the Source. In the cave. But we knew that.”

“Not really. They could have called it off because of the police presence. The storm. Anything. We assumed they were going to the cave but now we know. Not only that, but we know they’ll all be there together. He told us both Huckley and the Boss will be in the cave. It’s a great opportunity. Once again our interests match up, Jack. All the bad guys I want and the little girl you want will all be in the same place tonight.”

“Great. Good information to have while we sit here in jail.” He turned to look at Lonetree tugging at the heel of one of his boots. “And what the hell are you doing with your boots?”

The heel snapped off. Lonetree held it out toward Jack who shrugged his shoulders at the solid piece of black rubber. Lonetree grinned as he slowly turned it over to reveal a hollowed out interior filled with a light grey substance. He stuck one of his fingers into the heel and scooped out some of the contents.

“What is it?”

“This, my friend, is C-4 plastic explosive.”

“You walk around with plastic explosive in your boots?”

“Sure, doesn’t everyone?” Lonetree grinned. “The Navy told me it was guaranteed to put a spring in my step.” He lowered his voice and turned serious. “Now that we know where the bad guys are going and that Janney’s already left, what do you say we break out of this shit hole?”

Jack grabbed Lonetree by the arm. “Wait. You had the ability to break out of here all day and you didn’t tell me about it?”

“I needed the Boss to think I was neutralized. Otherwise he might have disappeared. Besides, if I had told you about the explosives this morning Huckley might have been able to read your mind and the whole thing would have been blown. Besides, would you have been willing to wait all day like we needed to?”

“You son-of-a-bitch. They could have killed Sarah already.”

“But they didn’t.”

“You didn’t know that for sure.”

“Listen, nothing is ever for sure. I figured it would be hard for everyone to sneak away until the night. There has to be media everywhere out there. Kind of hard for the sheriff to disappear in the middle of the day for a quick human sacrifice. Look, we can keep talking about this, which will accomplish exactly nothing, or we can break out of here. What do you want to do?”

Jack forced himself to let go of his anger. Lonetree was right. It was already done. “OK. Just promise me that you’ll keep me in the loop from now on. Agreed?”

 Lonetree nodded, but Jack knew his companion would continue to inform him of his plans on a need-to-know basis. Without any other option, he realized he would have to live with it.

“Before I ask what the plan is to break out of here, I want to point out that the last two times you were in charge of our strategy things didn’t turn out so well. One plan left behind a decomposing body and the other landed us both in jail.”

Lonetree smiled. “Let’s hope the third time’s the charm.”

SEVENTY-ONE

Lauren didn’t know where to turn. Her visit to the jail that morning had been a disaster. Jack’s raving story only made things worse. He saw enemies everywhere he looked, enemies with supernatural powers. He believed that he, alone, had the information that could stop terrible events about to destroy them all. Clearly her husband was suffering from paranoid delusion. Even a first year med student could have made the diagnosis.

It didn’t make sense. Even with the problems in California, there had never been anything like this. Jack had never acted paranoid before or reported hallucinations of any kind. She thought there would have at least been warning signs. Something to indicate a meltdown this extreme was possible. She searched her memory but came up blank. And that’s what scared her. There must have been
some
sign and she had missed it. Coils of guilt wrapped tightly around her. She was stunned by her failure as a mother and a wife. How could she have been so oblivious? How could she have let this happen?

She shook her head to clear her bout of self-pity. The hospital cafeteria was empty now. The police and sheriff’s deputies had moved out once they took Lonetree and Jack into custody. As far as they were concerned, the police had the kidnappers and now it was just a matter of making them talk. The police had all avoided making eye contact with her as they packed up their things. She wasn’t sure if it was pity for her lost child or scorn for her helplessness.

Even the hospital staff was uncomfortable around her, scurrying by with heads down. She didn’t fixate on it. It wasn’t like she was being shunned by lifelong friends. In reality, the people here were strangers to her, more associates than friends. And that’s what made her feel so alone.

She tried to call Sushma to check on Becky but reached her answering service. She left a short message for her daughter assuring her that everything was going to be all right. Lauren’s throat constricted as she told the lie into the lifeless machine. Everything wasn’t going to be all right. Nothing would ever be all right again. She hung up the phone. The halls were silent as she walked up to her office. She closed and locked the door. She needed privacy.

She sat at her desk, her thick padded chair wrapped comfortably around her. Without thinking, she snatched up a pen and started twirling it in her hand, a nervous habit left over from medical school. With a kick, she spun the chair around so it faced the credenza covered with framed photos of her family. She leaned forward, picked up a large metal frame and laid it on her lap.

The photo was from their trip to the Grand Canyon. Taken from the canyon’s edge, it showed all of them together, even Buddy with his long tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. They’d gone in the late fall when the desert air had a cold edge. The girls’ cheeks were red from the chill. Both Sarah and Becky beamed with jack-o-lantern smiles as they waved at the camera.

Lauren turned the picture over. This wasn’t helping.

She picked up the phone, hesitated, and then punched in Dr. Mansfield’s extension. After five rings she hung up and called the on-duty nurse.

“Yes, Dr. Tremont?” the nurse answered.

“I’m looking for Dr. Mansfield. Is he in the hospital?”

“Let me check.” There was a muffled noise as Lauren heard the nurse ask someone if they had seen him. She came back on the line. “He’s downstairs. Said he wanted to be notified when they came to get the Rodriguez girl’s body.”

“That can’t be right. He told me they took her yesterday. That she’d already been cremated.”

Again, muffled voices before the nurse was back on the line. “I’ve got the file right here. Felicia Rodgriguez. TOD 22:14 hr on Thursday. She’s being picked up today. I’m sure if it.” The nurse paused. “Do you want me to send someone down to get him? Dr. Tremont? Hello?”

But Lauren was gone, already out her door and headed for the stairwell. It was only two flights down to the morgue and she meant to get there fast. Lauren took the stairs as fast as she could, her mind running full speed as she clambered down the stairs.

She couldn’t understand why Dr. Mansfield had lied to her. She wanted to believe there was a mistake. That she would get to the morgue and find a different body being removed, not Felicia Rodriguez.

But she was suspicious. The way Dr. Mansfield had handled Felicia’s death had bothered her from the beginning. One thing was for sure, if it
was
Felicia he was discharging for burial, there were going to be problems.

She jumped the last few stairs and yanked on the basement door. Locked. The stairwell doors were never locked. It was against fire code. Luckily she brought her keys with her which included a master for the hospital doors. She slid it into the keyhole and cranked it. When she heard the bolt slide back, she turned the handle and yanked open the door.

The stairwell door was next to the elevator at the end of the corridor opposite the morgue. She looked to her right at the elevator first. A metal folding chair was jammed between the doors to keep them open. She knew the “Hold Elevator” button could be overridden by an emergency key that every doctor had in case they needed to move a patient. Even though this override function was rarely used, someone wasn’t taking any chances that the elevator would be called away.

She swung her head around to the left, looking down the hallway. At the far end, the door to the morgue was also propped open. Her first thought was that she was too late. They had already transported the body. But a quick glance back to the elevator changed her mind. No, they had to still be down there. Dr. Mansfield had to be in the cooler getting the body ready.

On the way down the stairs, she had imagined how she would confront the old doctor when she saw him. Demand to know what he was doing. But now, standing alone in the basement, dark shadows in every corner from the poor lighting, she felt her nerve slipping.

It wasn’t that she believed Jack, not at all, it was just…
Just what?
she asked herself. So, maybe some of Jack’s paranoia had rubbed off on her. That was no reason to shrink away from her duties as a doctor. This was a question of protocol. If Dr. Mansfield was trying to cover-up something about Felicia’s death, it was her responsibility to find out what it was.

Still, when she heard Dr. Mansfield’s voice rumble down the hall, she instinctively reached behind her for the door and twisted the handle. Fear spread down her spine like freezing water. With one foot already back in the stairwell, she watched Dr. Mansfield emerge from the morgue pulling a gurney.

Go get the police, Lauren. Don’t do this by yourself
.

No sooner had the thought torn through her mind than she saw who pushed the other end of the gurney. She had only met him once, but she would not forget Scott Moran’s face for a long time. His words had devastated her conceptions of her husband. Hell, his short conversation with her had devastated her life. She just couldn’t understand what he was doing in the morgue. It didn’t make any sense.

Neither of the men had seen her yet. Giving in to her instincts, she hurried back into the stairwell and pushed the door shut, hoping the final click of the lock engaging didn’t sound as loud in the basement as it did to her.

With the door closed, she turned and ran up the stairs. She burst through the door into an empty hallway on the first floor. Earlier that day there had been police everywhere, but now the place was deserted. Running toward the cafeteria, she tried to get her thoughts in order. What was she doing? Wasn’t it plausible that the nurse had made a simple error? That Lauren hadn’t heard of one of Dr. Mansfield’s patients dying last night? Was grabbing a cop to confront and accuse a respected doctor of hiding a body really what she wanted to do? God, she was so confused. And exhausted. She needed help.

Styrofoam cups still littered the cafeteria tables, but all other signs of the command post for Sarah’s search were gone. The room was empty. As far as the police were concerned, the case was solved. Now it was just a matter of finding a body. Dragging the river. Looking in dumpsters. Before her mind could go too far down that path, Lauren decided to go to reception. There had to be someone in this Goddamned hospital.

She spun around and ran straight into a body.

She screamed and desperately pushed the man away. Thick, strong hands held her shoulders. The man was talking, and it took a few seconds to realize the words were soothing.

“Easy, easy. No one’s going to hurt you,” the man said.

Lauren pulled away and straightened her posture, her façade of emotional control back in place. She looked at the person who had, in her mind at least, crept up behind her. After a quick calculation, she decided he was the right person to help her. She told the man about Dr. Mansfield. He nodded as she expressed her concerns, both for what he might be doing and how it would look if she were accusing him unjustly.

“Tell you what,” the man said, “we’ll go down and see what’s going on. Just you and me. No need to tell anyone else. That way if it’s no big deal, it’s no big deal. Sound good?”

Lauren nodded. After voicing her concerns about Dr. Mansfield out loud, she felt self-conscious, suddenly sure that the whole thing was a result of her over-wrought mind. “Thanks, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” Sheriff Janney said, following Lauren back to the stairwell. “In fact, you wouldn’t believe how glad I am that I ran into you.”