The Haunted (Sarah Roberts 12) (7 page)

Parkman walked past him, accidentally bumping his shoulder as he went. Aaron watched him approach the officer in charge. Parkman got animated as he explained that they needed to get inside the building.

Aaron moved closer to hear better.

“But it’s sealed off,” the officer said. “Only our guys are getting inside. This is a crime scene.”

“You have to make an exception. We need to get upstairs, talk to the doctor or at least get contact information.”

The cop shook his head. “Not going to happen. Although I have no idea as to what you’re referring to. There’s no offices on the second floor. It’s all under renovation.”

Aaron stared up at the windows on the second floor, paying attention to what he could see of the inside. Unfinished walls, plastic wrapped in front of insulation, stickers still on the new panes of the windows. On the main floor, the door that led to the upstairs displayed a building permit.

“Is there even an office on the second floor?” Aaron asked loud enough for the officer in charge to hear.

“It’s being renovated. There’s only a lawyer’s office on the ground floor. That’s it.”

Parkman trudged back to Aaron. “What now?” he asked.

“No idea. Sarah’s gone. There’s a body in her car and we have no idea where to look for her.”

“Let’s work out what we do know.”

Officer Kershaw moved into their inner circle. “I’ll help if I can,” he said. “Let’s hear what you have so far.”

Aaron met Parkman’s eyes. He blinked back once, slowly.

It’s okay. This guy’s cool.

Aaron nodded. “Sarah was supposed to meet a doctor today. Second floor of a lawyer’s office. Half-hour drive from the cabin.” He pointed at the Charger. “Her car’s here.” He went on to update them once more on what happened when he got jumped, up until they arrived here. “But there’s something else. Yesterday, Sarah and I drove out to visit her sister’s gravesite.”

“And?” Kershaw prompted.

“Two men in dark leather jackets, like the two who jumped me today, were visiting another grave. After we left the cemetery, they passed us in their car. Sarah was sure they were watching us. She asked me if I thought so, too. I didn’t think they were and now realize I should’ve listened to her.”

“What were they driving?” Kershaw asked.

“A black Ford Fusion.”

“Anything else?”

Aaron shook his head.

“I’ll call it in and have my guys watching for two men in a Fusion. It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.”

He strode back to his cruiser and hopped in the front seat.

“We’ll find her, Aaron,” Parkman said.

“I hope so, but we’ve got nothing. I just hope she can handle whatever she’s going through on her own.”

“Me too, Aaron. Me too.”

Chapter 11

Something dug into her ankles and wrists. At first it was a bother, but now that her head was clearing, the ache intensified. A headache the size of Everest was booming from temple to temple in an attempt to open her cranium in whichever spot she might desire.

Bedsheets ruffled under her slightest movements. She became alert to her body and mentally examined it for injuries. Her thigh was a little sore from the way the needle was violently slammed in, but other than that, her headache was the only pain trying to rip her apart from the inside.

She opened her eyes and immediately jammed them shut. Cranial pressure seemed to double in that single motion. The lights above her bed shone inside her head and elevated the pain to white hot.

What the hell?

“I see you’re waking up.”

She didn’t open her eyes. Just turned her head toward the sound. The voice belonged to the fake doctor who trapped her. Dr. Lance Williams.

“How long have I been here?” she whispered.

“You’re not interested in knowing where here is first?” the doctor asked.

“I already know where I am.”

“Where’s that?”

“The building you die in. I’m good with that. How long I’ve been here is another thing entirely.” Talking worsened her migraine, but some things were more important than pain.

“Pray tell. Why does the length of your stay matter?”

“It’ll tell me how much backup I’ll have coming through that door when I’m ready to leave.”

“I can honestly say I’ve never met anyone with your tenacity. You lie on a bed, your wrists and ankles are secured with strong leather straps. You’re drugged. No one knows where you are and you can’t leave, but yet you’re talking as if I’m the prisoner. Wow, you’ve got some nerve, kid.”

She smiled, then tried to open her eyes. The pain flared and forced her eyes shut. She yanked up on her wrists and pulled her knees back, but all four restraints held tight.

“You can’t get out,” Williams said. “There is no escape from here.”

“Why am I
here
?” she asked. Then, under her breath, “Wherever here is.”

“You are here because as a doctor I have the power to commit you involuntarily for a seventy-two hour hold according to California’s Mental Health laws. After you threatened suicide—”

“I did no such thing."

“Funny,” he said, his voice moving as he walked toward the end of the bed. “After you injected yourself with a foreign substance in my office, I had no other option but to bring you in for observation. You were acting deranged. Said something about killing a woman. You presented a case to me, a designated mental health professional, that you were a danger to yourself and possibly a danger to others.”

“You know as well as I do that it was your men who injected me and I never once spoke of killing anyone. What is this all about? Revenge? Betrayal? Money? Come on, you can tell me, what have I done to offend thee?”

“It’s not me you’ve offended, as you so elegantly put it. But I’m sure you’ll meet him soon enough. Lastly, your denial will go on record. Your refusal to see the need for help. After your seventy-two hour stay, unless you show signs of regaining your mental health, I can invoke a fourteen-day hold. Who knows? Maybe you’ll be classified as gravely disabled and I’ll order a thirty-day hold after that. Wouldn’t it be nice? Spend almost the next two months locked up on this bed, injected routinely, in different areas of your pretty little body, if you know what I mean.”

His threats drew concern, but focusing on them would anger her and ultimately give him the power to keep her, as she would become a danger to others, namely him.

Her eyes remained closed. She let her mind wander, trying hard to come up with a name. The name of the person who could orchestrate this, or had the power to. Most of the people she had dealt with in the past that would want her dead were already dead themselves. Maybe it was a relative of a long-ago enemy.

“You’re in the Amy Greg Psychiatric Hospital,” Williams said. “The office of patients’ rights is in Sacramento, about three hours drive from here. I’ve looked you up online. Since you’re such a badass, a danger to others—” he used air quotes on
danger
— “I won’t let you get your required phone call. Although I am legally bound to tell you that this is not a criminal arrest.” He slapped his hands together as if to brush crumbs off them. “There, I’ve done what was required of me to keep you.”

As if to back up that claim that she was in a psychiatric ward, someone shouted a warbled cry from beyond the walls of her room until it was suddenly cut off.

“You’re in the acute ward for the mentally ill,” he said.

Sarah rolled her head toward his voice. She opened her eyes to slits without too much pain flaring. “Which means?”

“The acute ward is for people who are very ill. Some refer to it as the ‘long-stay’ ward. You’re in the sectioned-off area, or what we call, legally detained. Some call it the back wards, or
backwards.
” He touched her leg below the knee. She fought the urge to pull away, not that she could. Sympathy had no time for weakness in a place like this. Only strength survived in this world.

His hand began to move upwards, slowly.
“
Even if you managed to get out of those restraints, this room will be locked and the doors at each end of the corridor will be secured. The entire area is locked down. Before your seventy-two hour involuntary committal is through, I will file the appropriate documents that explain my findings and how I deem you chronically ill.” His hand rested on the top of her right thigh now. It began to move again. “You will never leave this building.” His hand stopped beside her vagina, just below her protruding hip bone. Every fiber in her body ached to drive a fist down his throat and into his stomach.

His hand brushed softly between her legs before he removed it. Then it landed on her right breast, his lips close to her ear. “You will never leave this building,” he repeated. “But before you kill yourself, as is the plan, the man responsible for your stay with us wants to enjoy your lady parts. I understand he’s had his way with you before so he’s quite familiar with the terrain. Although you’re older now. He may not like that, but it won’t matter much to you.”

He moved away from her ear. His hand left her breast. “You’ll spend the last week of your life drugged and fucked. Doesn’t that sound wonderful? And in the end, I’ll come out of this a hero as I committed you here in the wasted effort of trying to save your life.”

Sarah remained silent, her anger making her pant now. The headache subsided some in the wake of her fury.

A door opened.

“You can come in now.”

Two pairs of footsteps entered the room. She opened her eyes enough to see two men dressed in white lab coats, one with a needle, the other carrying more leather straps.

“These men,” the doctor continued, “will help with the pain. Soon you’ll sleep. But first, these men need to take your clothes and burn them.” He turned to the orderlies. “Inject her first.” He turned to stare into Sarah’s slitted eyes. “She’s feisty. A severe danger to herself and others. Once she’s out, rip her clothes off, secure her to the bed as tight as you can without cutting off circulation and leave her hospital clothes in the corner. I’ll help her dress when she’s awake tomorrow.”

They nodded in unison. “Yes sir. But leave her naked?”

“That’s what I said. She’s too much of a suicide risk. Somehow she’ll find a way to take her gown off and have it around her neck within minutes if I don’t dress her myself. Leave her naked for the world to see.” He winked at Sarah. “I’ll be back soon.” He opened the door to leave. “I’m suddenly looking forward to seeing you again.”

The door was about to close. One of the orderlies lifted a syringe and pushed the plunger a notch. Clear liquid spit out the tip.

“Doctor?” Sarah said as the door finally closed. Williams stuck his head back in.

“What is it?”

“You will die in this room. Come back here at your own peril.”

For a brief moment his eyes flickered. She saw caution, possibly fear.

He smiled. “I highly doubt that.” The door closed.

It all came to Sarah in a rush. She was looking for Cole Lincoln, her old babysitter who had abused her all those years ago. Her search had proven to be a daunting task as she couldn’t find him. And now she was here, waiting to meet the person who, as Williams said,
has had his way with you before
. That could only mean Lincoln was here and had orchestrated this entire thing.

The needle entered her right arm. She jerked in surprise.

The ankle restraints came off, but she suddenly had no fight left in her. Whatever was in the needle worked incredibly fast.

Now she understood why Vivian said it would all work out in its own time. That was why she recommended Dr. Williams, who was in fact a real doctor as Sarah had discovered through her background checks. But how would Cole know that she would go to Williams and that Williams could be bought? How Cole fit in was a mystery and one she intended to figure out before it was too late.

The pain in her head decreased to almost nothing as a wave of sleep rolled over her.

After what happened to her before she was a teenager and what happened to her sister, she had enough resolve to go after Cole with a fierce vengeance. Lately, with Vivian’s memories haunting her, Cole was all Sarah thought about.

The threat of another event to mirror the past, another rape would be too much. She would be haunted for as long as she lived if that happened to her as she lay helpless, strapped to a bed.

She had all the mental ammunition she needed to go after men like Cole. She didn’t need another
event
to give her more ammunition.

All another
event
would do to her …

She lost the thought as her shirt was torn from her body. At some point her wrists were released from the straps. She was completely free of the bed and had no strength to do anything about it.