A Woman With A Mystery Part 22

Whoever had cleaned them out had a key. So why bother to make it look like the place had been vandalized? Unless whoever had done it was in a hurry and didn't have the time or patience to break the locks on the files.

Had Carolyn had the key all along? Slade doubted it. She must have taken it from Dr. Delaney. No wonder they hadn't been able to find the keys to his Suburban.

He glanced over at the cabinets lining the wall across the room, doubting Carolyn had left anything. She'd known exactly what she was looking for, it seemed.

And yet, his only hope was that she might have missed something. He started toward the cabinets, slowing as he spotted something dark pooling beneath one of the far cabinets.

He pulled the weapon from his pocket and moved cautiously toward the cabinet.

HOLLY BARELY HEARD what Chief L. T. Curtis said as she walked beside him down the hall. All she could think about was Slade back there alone in the lab. She hadn't wanted to leave him, but she knew that if she hadn't, Curtis would have forced them both to go. Selfishly, all she could hope was that Slade would find what they needed. A lead to their daughter.

Let Curtis bring down Carolyn Gray and see that she got her proper punishment. Holly just wanted her daughter-and Slade.

The chief was talking about Slade, how stubborn he'd always been, telling stories about Slade as a teenager. "He's been obsessed with his mother's murder for as long as I can remember."

So the cop didn't know that Norma had told Slade the truth. "That seems pretty normal," she said, only half listening. This part of the Inst.i.tute seemed completely abandoned. She could hear nothing but the sound of their footsteps and the cop's voice. Her mind, however, was on Slade and what he would find. He had to find something. something.

"Sh.e.l.ley doesn't just look like her brother," Curtis was saying. "Smart as a whip, that one. Always had to be careful around her. She never missed a trick."

"I'm sure you and Norma love them like your own children," she said. Somewhere deep in the bowels of this place she could hear what sounded like water running. Or maybe it was the heating system cranking out warm air, trying to heat this monstrosity. "I'm a little confused about where we are." They'd been walking, it seemed, for some time and yet she hadn't seen the entrance she and Slade had come in. Nor any elevator or stairs.

"This place is much larger than you would think from looking at it on the outside," he said. "The guy who had this place built thought the world was going to come to an end, so he had this part put in separately from the main house. The walls are made of reinforced concrete four feet thick. You could drop a bomb on this place and it would stay standing." He seemed to realize she wasn't listening. "So fill me in on what you know about this baby thing."

"I'm sure Norma told you most of it."

"Norma was too upset, she wasn't making much sense."

Holly told him about the three monsters huddled at the end of her bed during her delivery in the abandoned part of the hospital.

"So you think they were Dr. Delaney, Lorraine Vogel and this nurse, Carolyn Gray?" he said.

"Yes, except..."

"What's wrong?" he asked.

She frowned as she remembered something. "I have this memory of one of them talking to me and this distinct feeling that I knew the person. I remember being shocked because it was the last person I would have suspected. But I didn't know Lorraine or Dr. Delaney or Carolyn Gray."

"That is odd. Maybe you'd just heard one of them somewhere and thought you recognized the voice," he suggested.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him clutch his side. "Are you all right?"

"Just a little indigestion. Slade gives it to me all the time."

She spotted both stairs and elevator down the hall. She was anxious to get off this level. The echo of their steps along the concrete hallway was giving her a headache. The halls seemed to wind like a maze down here. She felt turned around, but then she hadn't been paying attention.

Unconsciously, now that she could see the elevator ahead, she slowed her steps, trying to give Slade as much time alone as possible in the lab.

"I wouldn't worry if I were you," the chief was saying. "We have a warrant out on Carolyn Gray, the crime lab is sending someone down from Missoula to help us with the investigation of Dr. Delaney's murder, and we'll continue to look for your baby." He ran his beefy hand over his face. "One way or the other, it will be over soon," he said, his hand m.u.f.fling his voice. "So don't you worry."

They had almost reached the end of the hallway and the elevator. Her heart slammed against her chest. She stumbled, losing her balance.

Curtis grabbed her to steady her. "Are you all right?"

This time she saw him flinch. Something was definitely wrong with him, but her mind was on the flash of memory. It moved through her mind like a wisp of cloud. She could feel him staring at her oddly. Just get to the elevator, she told herself. "I think I'd like to sit down once we get to the main office."

"No problem," the chief said as he took her arm. "Let's get you taken care of as quickly as possible so I can get back to your...boyfriend."

SLADE COULD SMELL the blood pooling in front of the cabinet as he drew near. He reached out cautiously for the k.n.o.b, half expecting the cabinet door to be locked. He pulled. The door swung open.

Carolyn Gray tumbled out.

One good look at her, and Slade knew there was no reason to check for a pulse. She'd been shot and shoved into the cabinet as if her killer had been in a hurry. He could see now where the blood that had splattered on the white tile floor had been hastily wiped up.

He stumbled back, confused. Three monsters. All dead. If Carolyn had killed Dr. Delaney, then who had killed her? Not Lorraine. Carolyn's body was still warm and Lorraine- He jumped at the sudden sound of his cell phone ringing. Hurriedly, he dug the phone out of his s.h.i.+rt pocket before it could ring again. "Rawlins." He'd expected it to be Holly warning him that the cop was on his way back down.

"Slade?" It was Sh.e.l.ley. "Is everything all right?"

Not a chance. "Yeah."

"I got your message. Sorry I didn't get back to you sooner. I was farther up island."

He started to cut her off, to tell her this really wasn't a good time, but then she said, "You asked about the Christmas ornament. The twin golden angels?"

He'd almost forgotten, so much had been going on. He moved away from Carolyn's body, toward the door.

"I do do remember it," Sh.e.l.ley was saying. "You know who made it? Francie Dunn. You know, Jerry Dunn's mom. That was back when we were kids and played together." remember it," Sh.e.l.ley was saying. "You know who made it? Francie Dunn. You know, Jerry Dunn's mom. That was back when we were kids and played together."

He'd forgotten that Jerry had lived down the street from them back then. When he'd called Sh.e.l.ley, he'd hoped maybe the ornament had meant something to their mother-their adoptive mother, he mentally corrected himself.

"So Francie Dunn gave it to Mom," he said.

"No, Francie made made it. L.T. gave it to Mom that Christmas, right before..." it. L.T. gave it to Mom that Christmas, right before..."

He stopped in mid-step, freezing. That Christmas, right before she was murdered? "You're sure L.T. gave it to her?"

"Positive. I remember because she looked at him and burst into tears. That was so unlike Mom. Slade, what's going on? Why ask about the ornament now?"

He was trying to understand his mother's reaction and why the chief would have given her the twin angels. Norma said he'd been against the pregnancy. He'd never been close to either Slade or Sh.e.l.ley-and he definitely wasn't an angel kind of guy. Unless there was some special meaning other than the fact that the angels were twins that had made his mother cry.

"Slade, what's going on?" Sh.e.l.ley asked, sounding worried. "Has something happened?"

"You know me, I just get sentimental this time of year."

"Oh yeah, right. You're sure everything is all right?"

"It's fine. Shel, I've got to go. I love you." He snapped off the phone before she could question him further and turned to find Chief L. T. Curtis framed in the lab doorway.

Chapter Seventeen.

Holly woke in total blackness, dazed, head aching. The last thing she remembered was reaching for the elevator b.u.t.ton.

She tried to get up and b.u.mped into a wall in the dark. She could hear the sound of water and heat pipes but couldn't tell if they were over her head-or just one misstep below her. Carefully, she got to her feet, afraid of falling into an abyss.

Once on her feet, she discovered the knot on the side of her head. She half expected to find no memory of anything. But not only could she remember being hit, she remembered the voice and the m.u.f.fled familiar words. "It will be over soon." The same words she'd heard the night she delivered her baby. And she realized now why she'd known the person speaking the words even through his mask. Why she'd been so shocked. Because she'd met Chief L. T. Curtis last February with Slade, right before someone had wiped Slade from her mind-but not from her heart, she thought.

No wonder the monsters had found her soon after she met Chief Curtis.

But at least now she knew she'd gone to Slade this Christmas Eve of her own free will, because she was in trouble and instinctively she'd known to go to him.

And now she had her memory back, for all the good it did her. Slade was waiting at the lab. And Curtis had told him he'd be back as soon as he took care of Holly. Well, he'd taken care of her all right!

Gingerly, she reached out her arms, fearing what she might feel in the dark, but desperately needing to escape this prison-and get to Slade. He would trust Chief Curtis. He would believe that she was safe with the two police officers she'd bet weren't waiting upstairs in the main office. Slade would be a sitting duck.

Her fingertips touched a wall directly in front of her. And another off to her left and right. A closet? Or a coffin stood on end? The thought sent a chill through her. She felt for a doork.n.o.b, desperate to find one.

Her hand found the handle of a broom or mop and shoved it aside, only to have it hit something over her head. A large container tumbled down, striking her shoulder, almost knocking her to her knees.

She grabbed her shoulder in the blackness of the closet and felt something wet and sticky. Blood? She leaned against the wall, holding her shoulder, waiting for the pain to subside a little. The closet smelled strongly of floor cleaner. She crouched down and found a large plastic bottle and something wet and sticky spilled on the floor. Not blood. Floor cleaner.

She wasn't bleeding. That was a relief anyway.

She wiped her hands on her jeans and went back to looking for a doork.n.o.b. Nor was she in a coffin, she thought counting her meager blessings.

Her hand banged against metal. Smooth, round metal. She'd never been so happy to find a doork.n.o.b in her life. She tried to turn it, not terribly surprised to find the door locked-and obviously with a key-from the outside.

She considered throwing herself against the door, but knew that breaking it down was out of the question even if she'd had enough room to get a run at it. Banging on the door for help seemed just as ridiculous. She hadn't seen a soul on her walk with the chief down the labyrinth of hallways. Wherever she was, it wasn't on a main floor and she would never be heard over the sound of the water and heating system now roaring in her ears.

She was trapped. In the dark. And Slade was out there with at least two crazy armed people-Carolyn Gray and Chief L. T. Curtis.

She fought the desire to scream. Or cry. Think. Think. She felt around for the broom or mop handle she'd discovered earlier. Mop, she decided, when she found it and ran her fingers the length of it. She felt around for the broom or mop handle she'd discovered earlier. Mop, she decided, when she found it and ran her fingers the length of it.

Maybe she could use it as leverage to break off the doork.n.o.b. She wasn't sure the door would open even if she managed such a feat, but she had to try. She couldn't just stand here in the broom closet, unable to warn Slade, just waiting for the chief of police or Carolyn Gray to come back and kill her.

She got the mop handle between the wall and the k.n.o.b and pulled down with all her strength. She thought she felt it give a little. If only she had a little more room. Or more weight. The mop handle broke. She fell, slamming into the closet wall.

She felt tears rush her eyes and a sob catch in her throat, just waiting to be let loose. She threw down the piece of broken mop handle, hurt and scared and frustrated. And angry. But she wasn't going to cry.

Bracing herself against the wall, she put her foot against the doork.n.o.b. She would break the thing even if it killed her!

She kicked, then kicked harder, ignoring the pain in her arch. The doork.n.o.b gave way on the ninth kick. It clattered to the floor. She leaned against the wall, realizing she was crying, but not sure how long she had been.

She wiped the tears from her face with her sleeve and turned her back to the wall opposite the door, figuring she'd have to kick her way out, but determined she would, come h.e.l.l or high water.

The moment her boot touched the door, the door swung open and she slipped on the floor cleaner and fell to the floor. Crying and laughing and closet-blind, she scrambled to her feet and burst out into the dim light of the hallway.

Once out, she realized she had no idea how to get back to the lab.

SLADE HADN'T HEARD the chief open the door because he'd been on the phone. Curtis stood filling the doorway, his service revolver in his beefy hand. He was looking at Carolyn Gray's body, his expression one of regret rather than surprise.

"Who was on the phone?" the cop asked.

"Wrong number."

"You always were a bad liar, Slade. I figured Sh.e.l.ley would remember the ornament incident. She always paid more attention to the little things than you did."

Slade stared at him, trying to get control of his fury, his fear, his repulsion, trying to understand with his mind something his heart just refused to believe. "What did you do with Holly?" he demanded, fear making his blood run cold as he advanced on the cop.

Curtis lifted the revolver in his hand, the threat too clear.

Slade stopped, his own weapon in his coat pocket, where he'd put it when he'd found Carolyn dead. He knew he couldn't get it out, aim and pull the trigger before Curtis fired and killed him, so he didn't even consider it. He wouldn't do Holly any good dead.

"I locked her in a closet until we could get some things sorted out," the cop said.

He didn't know why, but he believed Curtis. "Why?" he asked, his heart breaking. "Why would you get involved with someone like Allan Wellington?"

"Allan was a genius," Curtis said.

"All madmen think they're geniuses."

"Do they? You think I'm mad and yet I'm no genius. If I were I wouldn't be here right now." The cop glanced toward Carolyn Gray's body. "I wish you'd left this alone, Slade. I told you Marcella would never have had an affair."

Slade eyed the contents of the lab, looking for something he could use for a weapon. A small microscope lay on its side on the lab table in a pile of broken gla.s.s. If he could get to it- "Marcella must have found out what Wellington was doing when she was getting the fertility treatments," Slade said, edging slowly toward the lab table. "She would have come to you, because for some reason she didn't want my father to know she was getting treatments? Or trying to expose Dr. Wellington." He frowned as he glanced at Curtis. "And she would have trusted you." A thought struck him. "She found out about your involvement."

The cop was nodding thoughtfully. "I didn't want to hurt Marcella, but she wouldn't listen to reason."

Slade swore. "She was trying to tell us who her murderer was. You gave her that ornament as a warning. If she talked you'd do something to her kids. No, not her kids, Norma's and Joe's kids."

"So Norma told you," Curtis said disgustedly. "I figured eventually she would." His gaze hardened. "They betrayed me. Especially Marcella. She's the one who talked Norma into having Joe's children, and Norma-" he shook his head angrily "-jumped at the chance to be with your father."

"That's why you stole Holly's and my baby," Slade said with a start. "You couldn't stand the thought of Norma having a grandchild."