CHAPTER 4—ROCKBRIDGE
Donovan looked up as Loralei walked out of the convenience store. She looked a little better, but her face was still pale. He couldn't stand seeing her like this, and he hoped that she could get through the visit. Without a word, she climbed into the car and strapped herself in. Impatiently, she waited for him to join her. He figured he might as well get moving. If he didn't, he wouldn't doubt that she'd rev the car to life and leave him behind. They had less than an hour to drive, and she grew even more withdrawn and silent. He was thankful that they didn't have to stop again. She had even stopped clutching at her stomach.
When Rockbridge finally came into sight, he heard Loralei draw in a sharp breath. As he focused his dark eyes on the drab gray building, he was profoundly grateful that he didn't have to stay here. It reminded him of some type of gothic cathedral. Had he read somewhere that it had been a cathedral at one point in time? He couldn't remember. The only thing that shattered that image was the razor wire and tall chain link fence surrounding the perimeter of the hospital. If he didn't know it, he would have thought it was a normal every day prison. It looked like a close cousin to Alcatraz [without the water]. He saw a sign that said 'visitor parking' and he directed the car toward an empty slot that seemed miles and miles away from the main building. He put the car in park and killed the engine. For a long time, he gazed at Loralei. Her eyes were fixed on the tall, imposing building.
"I'm all right," she said suddenly as if sensing what he was about to ask. "If I walk away satisfied today, we're going to celebrate tonight."
He reached across the seat and allowed his hand to caress her silky hair. "Have I ever told you that I admire your strength?"
She smiled a little. "Once or twice." She was relieved to note that her stomach had finally settled. Sighing, she said, "Let's do this, Donovan."
The two of them got out of the car and Donovan took Loralei's arm. She smiled a little and again mused about how protective he was. It was irritating, but endearing.
The outside of the hospital was bad, but the inside was worse. The interior was part hospital and part prison. There were three floors inside with an open ceiling appearance, and from all sides, dozens upon dozens of cells surrounded them. There were no bars on the doors. A square of shatterproof glass covered by mesh wire was installed on each door. Who Loralei assumed was guards strolled about each floor. Oddly enough, they were dressed in hospital scrubs. There was hardly any noise at all. The silence disturbed her most of all. It didn't seem right, it was sinister and foreboding. They were forced to go through a metal detector and were then instructed to leave behind anything of value, including their wedding rings. Not in the least bit happy about it, Loralei removed her wedding and engagement rings, grudgingly handing them over. She noticed that Donovan wasn't thrilled about it, either.
She felt another lurch in her stomach as they were led from the check-in area to the 'lead counselor's' [LC] office. This fellow was more or less a warden. Loralei found it strange that they had special names for everything. It was plain what kind of place this was, yet no one seemed to want to acknowledge it. Loralei and Donovan had made arrangements with the LC for this visit, and he was expecting them. Even more nervous now, Loralei sat in one of the comfortable wingchairs in the LC's office while Donovan remained standing at her side. The LC was chatting away on the phone.
"I'm sorry about that," the LC said. "My name is Fred Hall. Most of the patients here call me Counselor Hall," he said. "So, you are the Donovans," he asked, stating the obvious. It was clear he didn't expect either of them to confirm or deny who they were. "I've spoken to you on more than one occasion regarding Ms. Butler," he said, focusing his eyes on Donovan. "I understand you have some concerns that she is sending you some type of correspondence?"
"Yes," Donovan said patiently. Hadn't they discussed this already? "Both my wife and I have a personal history with Bla-Ms. Butler," he said. He had nearly called her 'Black Heart.' "All we are requesting is a few moments. Neither of us wants to stay any longer than that."
Loralei was relieved that Donovan was doing all the talking. She was afraid that if she opened her mouth, she would throw up all over the floor. She didn't want the LC's first impression of her to be a disgusting one.
"Mr. Donovan, Mrs. Donovan, I can assure you both that Ms. Butler hasn't sent any correspondence to anyone. In fact, she hasn't had a single visitor in the eight months she has been here. As I've said on more than one occasion, our patients do not have free access to writing materials. We provide what they need and closely monitor them. As you know, something as harmless as an ink pen could be used to put an eye out or to stab."
The image didn't sit well with Loralei. Her queasy stomach did another flip-flop. If she didn't get out of here soon, she was going to make a big mess. She also didn't appreciate the lecture they were receiving from this self-inflated 'counselor.' He had no idea how dangerous Black Heart was, how dangerous she could be if she ever escaped.
"You understand that I'm allowing this only because of your special status, Mr. Donovan," he said as if he had bestowed upon them some grand favor. "I'll have one of the staff members to take you to Ms. Butler's room. Please wait here."
After he left, Loralei exhaled slowly. "Isn't he Mr. Charm," she spat sarcastically. "He's only humoring us, Agent Donovan with the special status," she mocked. "I don't like this setup, Frank, something isn't right around here."
He sat on the arm of her chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "Yes, I can see what you mean. Having a special status has its perks," he said mocking her. "I can arrange a surprise inspection if necessary." He gazed her curiously. Her face seemed paler than ever. "Loralei, are you all right?"
She nodded. "I'm fine," she said with a sigh. "I'm just sick. Once we're out of here, I'll feel better."
He studied her very carefully. A thought entered his mind, one that needed to be voiced. After all, he wasn't totally oblivious. "Loralei, are you-"
Before he could finish the question, the LC brought in a staff member built like a tree. Donovan was tall, but this guy loomed over him by a good three inches. Without a word, he led them out of the main office and through the maze of cells up to the third floor. As they followed along behind him, he explained that he couldn't open the door to 'Carly's' cell [no duh], and their visit would have to be short. He droned on and on, and Loralei blocked out his voice as best as she could. She cared very little about what his daily job entailed. She wanted to see the widow, wanted to ensure the cell was inescapable, and then she wanted to get the fuck out.
"Here we are," the guard built like a mighty Sequoia said.
The doors were very thick, at least four inches, and made of reinforced steel. The only entrance to the 'room' was this door, and in order to unlock it, one would have to have a specially made key. The Sequoia told them that each 'room' had a different key. There were no master keys. To the Sequoia man, that fact made the 'rooms' impenetrable. Curiously, Loralei peered through the tiny window. She could see that the 'room' was sparsely furnished and very tiny. There were no writing utensils or paper inside. At first, she couldn't see the widow. Her heart began to beat heavily in her chest and the nausea that had all but gone away had begun to rage within her once again. Before Loralei knew what was happening, Black Heart threw her body against the door and screamed at her. She couldn't hear the sound, of course, but she could see the distortion of Black Heart's face, and it didn't take a behaviorist to know what she was doing. She stepped back and bumped into Donovan in the process. She had forgotten all about him.
"Okay," Loralei said. "I've seen enough." Even though Loralei didn't hear her, she could read lips. Black Heart had threatened to skin her alive before gutting her husband.
She tried to walk away, but the Sequoia grabbed her arm. "Miss, you have to wait for me," he said.
Donovan shot the man a dark look. He didn't want anyone touching her in such a fashion. She wasn't a damn rag doll. "Lead the way," he spat. "I'll see to it that she follows."
He rolled his eyes to as if to say 'whatever.' He released Loralei's arm as Donovan took hold of her. "This way, please."
They were taken back to the LC's office. Donovan wasn't quite as shaken as Loralei, but he wasn't exactly carefree, either. He had seen a lot of shit over the years, had been in prison riots, fierce hostage situations, bank robberies, etc., but this gothic hospital was one place he would never forget, one in which he'd never visit again. After another short wait, the LC returned to his office and faced the couple.
"Satisfied," he asked pointedly.
Loralei nodded. "Quite. Are all the inmates treated the same? Do any of them have access to pens, pencils, or paper?"
"Absolutely not without close supervision. I can assure you that the correspondence you received did not come from our hospital."
"Be that as it may," Donovan began, "I want her cell shaken down every week until further notice. If you won't do this willingly, I can have a directive issued to you straight from the Justice Department."
Hall didn't like to be ordered about by a hotshot federal agent. However, he knew that Donovan's implied threat was very real. All he needed was a JD probe of his administration. "We can arrange that."
Satisfied for the time being, Donovan took Loralei's hand and led her out of the LC's office. They gathered their belongings left at check-in and walked quietly out to the car. She slid into the car on the drivers' side and he climbed in after her. He watched as she silently replaced her rings. He didn't intend to pull out of the parking lot until they talked about it. She glanced at him and waited expectantly.
"What are you waiting for? Let's get out of here," she said.
"Not yet. I need to know how you feel about this."
She sighed and tucked her hair behind her ears. Her stomach had finally decided to leave her alone for now, and she was profoundly grateful. "Scared, but convinced. I don't think she did it, but that worries me, because somebody did. Maybe it was an isolated incident, but I don't trust that. We need to find out who did this and why. As for the Black Heart, I'm really and truly done with her. Today clinched it."
He caressed her clammy cheek with the back of his hand. "Are you still sick?"
"Nope," she said with a little smile. "I'm all better."
He almost held back on his stray thought. Perhaps it was stress, and for a moment, he considered letting it go. However, he had promised himself a long time ago that he would never hold anything back where Loralei was concerned. This time was no exception. "Have you thought you might be pregnant," he asked.
His question threw her entirely off track. It was obvious in her facial expression. She leaned back in the seat and shook her head incredulously. "Uuuuuuh, no," she said. "I'm not pregnant."
He smiled a little. "How do you know? Are you a doctor?"
"Frank. Jesus," she spat. "I may not be a doctor, but I know I'm not pregnant. There is a wonderful little invention called birth control pills, and I take them faithfully. Not only that, I've had my period already."
He nodded, but continued to smirk at her. "Whatever you say," he said as he stuck the key in the ignition and started the car. "Didn't you forget to take them when we went to Mexico? Of course, I could be wrong. I still think you are."
"Shut up," she said, feigning utter exasperation. "You are wrong, you jerk. I had them, you just weren't paying attention. You were too busy trying to undress me."
Donovan put the car in gear and backed out of the parking lot. Before he pulled the car out onto the highway, he glanced at her. "I don't mean to pick on you," he said seriously. "I know this isn't a situation where we should be joking like this, but you've gone through a lot. I'm just glad that you can walk away from this feeling convinced, that you will not needlessly worry yourself about her anymore."
She nodded. "I understand. I feel a little relieved. I meant it, Frank; I'll put this behind me, behind us. But you know what? You're still a jerk," she said with a smile.
He lifted his eyebrow and gazed at her. His smirk returned. "You know what," he mocked, "I still think you're pregnant."
* * *
She couldn't believe the utter gall of the Donovans. How dare they come to her, to peer through the window as if she were some type of exotic animal on display. If she could have gotten through the thick door, she wouldn't have hesitated to choke the life out of Loralei Donovan. She had spent the next several hours clenching and unclenching her fist, drawing blood in the palms of her hands. The large man who brought the hated couple had forced a sedative on her, but it hadn't calmed her one iota. Her hatred coursed through her veins, helping her body fight the numbing effects of the injection. They hadn't known whom they were fucking with before, and they definitely didn't know now. She had to find a way to escape. She could not stand to be cooped up in here any longer.
* * *
She had been standing close to the window when she saw Frankie. Surely not. When he first dumped her, she saw him in every corner, in every room, but she hadn't done that in years. She had only seen a brief glimpse of the man, but she could have sworn on a stack of bibles that it was he. Although it had been many years, she would never forget his face, never forget what he looked like. What was he doing here? Had he figured out that it was she behind the cards? Had he? It couldn't be. The guard hadn't taken him to her 'room,' he had taken him to one a few doors down. She had actually gotten a better look at the woman with the man. She was obviously the one he had married. When she glanced at the woman, she could have killed her without a qualm. Oh, the pain, the sheer utter pain. She remained standing right up against the door and waited for them to pass by again. When they did, she was convinced. He hadn't even looked her way. He seemed solely focused on the woman whose arm he held onto tightly. She had screamed then, loud and high. Of course, the soundproof steel doors hadn't allowed the sound to escape. He had been in the same building, no more than five feet away. Oh God. She had to get out; she had to finish Frankie and his permanent piece. She just had to devise a plan. Perhaps the 'patient' a few doors down could help her. Perhaps. Just perhaps.
* * *
Donovan and Loralei had taken the long way home. Neither was in a big hurry. For the first time since receiving the hideous greeting card, both felt normal. After an hour or so, Loralei insisted they stop for food. He pulled into the parking lot of a small diner, and Donovan watched as Loralei literally floated inside, her feet barely touching the ground at all. It did his heart wonders to see her acting in such a fashion. He thought this visit would have affected her badly, but it obviously hadn't.
"Can I say one more thing before we totally drop this," Loralei asked once they were seated.
He smiled a little. "So much for letting it rest, huh?"
"Oh, I intend to. This has nothing to do with the woman whose name I won't mention ever again in your presence," she teased. "This has to do with something else." He didn't say anything. She sighed and pressed ahead: "I saw something a little freaky while we were walking out."
Concerned now, he leaned forward. "Freaky? What was it?"
"A woman, Frank, about two or three cells down from Ms. Unmentionable. Didn't you see her?"
He shook his head. "No. I wasn't exactly paying attention. I was focused on you."
"She had her face pressed against the window. I just saw it for a few seconds, but she was looking at you, and then at me. I think I saw her screaming. It was bizarre."
He reached across the table and took her hand. "Did you know her?"
She shook her head. "No."
Donovan held his tongue, but he was disturbed. He made a mental note to have Cody find out who each and every inmate was, just in case. Something was not right. Staying in 'protection' mode, he said, "Don't give yourself another reason to worry, Loralei. This may sound a bit harsh, but Rockbridge is a mental facility, and the inmates will act strange and violent."
"I know," she said. "I will fret no more." Would she?
* * *
Loralei entered the apartment behind Donovan. Before she closed the door, she collected the few pieces of mail that had arrived during their absence. There was a neon green envelope tucked neatly between a few pieces of junk mail and a letter from Donovan's brother. The writing was the same as the first. The postmark was even the same. The only difference was the color.
"Frank?"
At the sound of her distressed voice, he turned toward her. He saw the envelope and immediately knew what it was. He approached her slowly and took it from her shaking hands. Morbid curiosity ruled him and he tore it open. Another hideous homemade card slid out. It was as green as its envelope with only a streak of smeared red ink, perhaps from a marker, across the outside. He opened the card carefully. Come see me. I'll come see you. Until then…have a happy life.