Seeking Asylum (22 page)

Slapping it away like an irritating bug, he cleared his throat and squeezed his eyes closed for an instant, then brushed at them with his palms.

“I’m sure you’ve read accounts in the literature of unusual empathy between identical twins. Caleb and I always had something. Caleb’s was stronger than mine, maybe because of his illness. He could—” He took a shaky breath that caught at the top, like a sob. “He always knew where to find me when we played hide-and-seek. And if he wanted to, he could let me know where he was.”

He stopped, then laughed shortly. “It sounds crazy. You sort of had to be there to understand.”

Dumbfounded, Rachel listened.

“When he—when we were eleven and Grandmother told me he had died, I didn’t believe it until she showed me his grave. I still got sensations, feelings. For twenty years I fought them, thinking—” He smiled and shrugged, dropping his gaze to the floor. “Thinking I was going insane myself. Then when you were kidnapped—” He pursed his lips and blew out a breath. “It was a shock, but it was an amazing relief, to find out that Caleb was alive.”

“You heard his name on the news.”

He glanced up at her through his dark lashes. “No. I dreamed I took you hostage.”

Rachel felt the blood drain from her face. “You
dreamed
about me?” She remembered Caleb’s words, there in his grandmother’s house.

I called him. He’s a secret agent.

She folded her arms and took a tiny step backward. “You said Caleb could let you know where he was. Is that how you knew we were at your grandmother’s?”

Eric’s eyes grew dark with an apprehension she’d never seen in him before. He seemed to brace himself. “Yes.”

The word echoed off the walls, reverberated inside her skull. “And how he knew you were coming. He told me you were a secret agent.”

“I suppose. He always knew things I never told him.”

“How could he—?”

“Since we’ve been here, the reason I’ve known my way around, the way I found the door in the basement, is that Caleb has been helping me.”

“Helping you—” Rachel knew she sounded like an idiot, parroting what Eric said, but she was having a hard time absorbing what he was telling her. “Caleb is unconscious. He’s been on life support all this time. There’s no way—”

Eric’s face changed. His mouth tightened, his skin looked drawn and pale across his cheekbones, and his eyes darkened in a terrible grief.

“Just a few minutes ago, my brother died.” His voice cracked on the last word and his head bowed.

“Oh, Eric.” Rachel’s throat closed in shock and sorrow. “How—”

“Do I know?” He lifted his head. “Because for the first time in my life, I’m completely alone.” He rubbed his temples. “Caleb’s not here anymore.”

Everything inside Rachel told her that what Eric was saying wasn’t possible. Sure, she’d heard the sensational
stories. Twins separated at birth who went on to live eerily similar lives. Twins who experienced each other’s pain. Even cases of a twin knowing when his sibling died. But Rachel had never personally seen a case, never even known anyone who’d seen one.

It took every ounce of her strength to stand in front of him and try to believe him. He had just found his brother after twenty years. It wasn’t fair that he’d lost him again. If that was true.

She studied him. Her heart broke for him. He was kind and brave, and he wore his loyalty and integrity like a badge of honor. And he believed totally in what he was telling her.

He would die for Caleb. She had a feeling he might even die for her. But was he sane?

She honestly didn’t know.

A blaring sound echoed through the room.

“Oh, dear God,” she breathed.

Eric started. “What the hell is that?”

Rachel didn’t even have time to explain before the operator’s calm voice sounded through the paging system. “Code M, Neurology. Code M, Neurology. Please check your assigned areas.”

“You’ve got to go. It’s the code for a missing patient. You’ve been gone too long.” She glanced at her watch. “It’s 3:48 a.m. Half an hour after your bed check.”

Eric cursed under his breath. “I can’t show up now. Who knows what they’ll do to me?”

Rachel bit her lip. “You have to. Get on the main elevators and go up to your room. Act like you’re sleepwalking.”

“Sleepwalking.”

“Be stiff, unresponsive. When they confront you, act
like you just woke up. Act surprised to find yourself standing up. Stumble.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’ll stay down here until things calm down, then I’ll slip out and go back to my apartment. I’ll leave my com unit on. Contact me as soon as you can.”

Eric gripped her shoulders, his eyes burning like dark flames. “No. You have to get out now. Metzger’s liable to come down here or send one of his minions to check on his precious secret room. I’ll walk with you to the rear door.”

“You don’t have time. It’s already been a half hour. If they don’t find you within the next thirty minutes, they’ll alert the local police.”

“That’s enough time—”

“No it’s not. Eric, you’ve got to trust me.”

He put his hand on the door handle and looked back at her. “How can I leave you here alone?”

“You have to. The longer you’re missing the worse it will be.”

A hint of panic flickered across his features. He took a long breath. “They’ll sedate me, won’t they?”

Her eyes flickered, but she forced herself to hold his gaze. “Yes. Heavily. And they’ll put you in lockdown.”

He passed his hand across his face, then made a fist, grazing his knuckles with his teeth as he stared at the floor.

“Eric?” He looked so vulnerable, his shoulders bowed under the weight of everything he’d been through and everything yet to come.

“Then no.” He raised his head.

Rachel was amazed at the transformation in him. Deep in his eyes she saw his grief, but now it was overlaid by a grim determination.

“I’ll be damned if I’m going to lie in a damn hospital bed drugged to the gills while you put yourself in danger. We’ll hide in here. Together.”

Chapter Twelve

“It’s obvious what Metzger’s planning to do.” Rachel sat on the floor of the small office, surrounded by papers.

Eric agreed, relishing the fury that flowed through him like hot lava.

He’d latched on to anger to keep himself from thinking about Caleb and the emptiness he felt without his brother’s presence. He ground one fist into the other palm. “The SOB is taking his disgusting experiments to Germany, and from what it looks like, he’s planning to do it soon.”

“I know. Some of these shipping labels show a pickup date of next week.”

“Did you contact Mitch?”

She shook her head, her expression reflecting sadness and pity.

He steeled himself against it by looking away, down at the logbook she’d given him. It lay open on the desk.

“No. I was coming to tell you about finding Metzger’s formula when you—”

He made a dismissive gesture. “Give me the phone. I’ll call him now. I need to find out about Caleb. I don’t know why Mitch hasn’t called.”

She handed him the phone.

He glanced down at it and cursed. “There’s no signal in this damn mausoleum of a room.” He looked up at the metal ceiling. “We’ll have to go outside to call.”

“Eric, they’re searching for you. The police are probably here by now. In fact, I’m surprised Metzger hasn’t come down here.”

“He’s not going to chance being seen entering his hidden torture chamber while the hospital is crawling with police. He won’t come near it until things have quieted down. He’s probably in the middle of the search, terribly worried about his patient.”

“Speaking of crawling with police, it’s going to be dangerous for us to leave, as well.” She started gathering up scattered papers. “What about using Metzger’s desk phone?” Rachel asked

Eric shook his head. “We can’t take that chance. It might be a private line. It’s certainly traceable.” He walked out of the office and into the main room. Something about the layout wasn’t right. He remembered thinking that earlier, before the overwhelming pain of losing Caleb had hit him.

A wave of grief sucker-punched him. The thought had probably come from Caleb.

“What were you trying to tell me, bud?” he muttered.

Rachel’s gentle hand touched his arm. “Are you okay?”

Still stinging from her wary revulsion, he shrugged off her touch and straightened, avoiding her gaze. “I will be.”

He stepped over into the middle of the room, near the stainless-steel table. “What’s wrong with this room?”

“Besides the spooky feeling that it’s crawling with evil? I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Just what I said. This room is different from the rest of the hospital.”

“The walls and ceiling are metal. It feels claustrophobic, smaller than it looks.”

“That’s it!” He craned his neck, taking in the entire ceiling corner to corner. “The ceiling is lower in here.”

Rachel looked up. “It is?” She measured his six feet of height with her gaze, then looked up. “You’re right. It’s only eight feet at the most.”

“Right. And this old mansion’s ceilings are at least twelve feet, maybe fourteen on the first floor.”

“Right. All the doorways, even in the basement, are wooden and have big transoms over them.”

“Grab the logbook and let’s get out of here.”

“What about the police?”

“I don’t think they’ll find us where we’re going.”

She glanced at him suspiciously. “Where
are
we going? Are you thinking about sneaking out of the hospital?”

“No.”

“Eric, you’ve been through a lot. Maybe you shouldn’t be making decisions right now.”

He felt his anger heating up, felt the pressure of the last days stretching along his nerves like a rubber band. “You still think I’m crazy? Well, you know what, Dr. Rachel Harper? Maybe I am. And when all of this is over, you can make your little report and give it to whomever the hell you want to. But right now, right here, I’m still in charge. So are you with me, or are you going to go upstairs and turn yourself in?” His throat felt raw and tight, his voice scraping harshly, as it did when his emotions escaped the tight leash he usually kept on them.

Her eyes widened in surprise and apprehension. She took a half step backward.

Chagrined, Eric almost reached out for her, but he knew she wouldn’t welcome his touch. He hated that she was afraid of him.

Closing his eyes, he reined in his anger and frustration and spoke calmly.

“I’m going to slide the door open just enough to listen. We should be able to hear anyone walking on the concrete floors. Then, if the corridor is clear, we’ll head south, toward the crawl space.”

“They’re probably going to look there. They know you—Caleb—has explored down here.”

He glanced up. “I wonder if anyone will look up there.”

Rachel followed his gaze. “Above the ceiling?”

He nodded.

“You can’t know there’s anything up there.”

Yes he could.
He didn’t say it out loud. “I already gave you your choice. What’s your decision?”

She paled, but her chin lifted. “I’m staying with you.”

“Good answer.” He turned on his heel and strode toward the door.

METZGER PLAYED WITH his fountain pen, sliding it up and down in his breast pocket. He was itching to get downstairs to check on his secret lab, but he couldn’t leave Patel, not until he managed to calm the chief medical director down. He fantasized about calling Thomas to restrain Patel while he sedated him. No one would fault him. The man was one breath away from a total breakdown.

Patel hung up the phone and slapped his palms against his desktop for about the fifth time. “This is intolerable. Gerhardt, I must insist that we call in the local authorities. It’s been over two hours. That was Wilson again. How long do you think I can stall my own chief of security? He’s
a retired police officer. He knows the procedures. We are required by law to report missing patients.”

Metzger held up his hands. “I can assure you, if Baldwyn is in this hospital, Thomas and his team will find him.” He gave a huge sigh and shrugged. “I can’t be responsible for what Caleb will do if he’s confronted by police. Not to mention that the damage to his psyche, after the events of the past week, could be devastating. And of course, there is always the possibility that he is sleepwalking and will turn up anytime.”

“I never liked having him here.” Patel shoved his chair back as he stood. “Not from the very beginning. He was too young. Eleven years old. He should have been treated by a children’s specialist.”

He paced, muttering to himself. “But Olivia Stanhope was adamant. She
said
she wanted the best of care. In over twenty years in this business, I’ve dealt with other people like her. All about social position—appearances. She wanted to hide the child. The taint of mental illness in her family was intolerable, an embarrassment.”

Metzger stared out the window, only half listening to Patel’s rambling. He glanced at his watch. Thomas should be reporting any minute. That was good, because Metzger wanted to send him to make sure nothing was amiss in the secret lab.

“Who in their right mind would turn down a multimillion dollar endowment?”

Metzger heard the creak of leather as Patel sat and leaned back in his executive chair.

He groaned inwardly. When Patel settled back in his chair, it was a sure sign that he felt the need to discourse. He’d been known to talk for hours. Metzger had to get out of here.

As soon as Thomas called, he would excuse himself to speak to the nurse in person.

“But nothing is ever free, Gerhardt. Nothing. I knew there would be a price to pay one day. Then after Olivia died, I actually expected Caleb’s brother to show up, even though Olivia assured me a dozen times that the brother thought his twin was dead.”

Metzger almost dropped his fountain pen.

Brother? Twin?

It took Metzger a few seconds to absorb Patel’s meaning. Once he did, his entire body began to buzz with shock. Had he understood correctly?

“Twin? Did you say twin?”