Frank arrived at the foundation twenty minutes early and reported to the staff nurse. "Here's your uniform and nametag," said the nurse, a clean-shaven man with thinning hair. "After you change, I will fill you in on your duties for this evening."
At seven pm exactly, Frank walked down the hall and stopped at the door of Mary Matthews, one of the patients who had been at the foundation for almost eight months. He opened the file holder and read her file, as was required of anyone entering a room, then replaced it and rapped on the door.
"Leave me alone!" shouted the belligerent girl.
Frank took a deep breath and opened the door. "Now, you know I can't do that," he said as he walked into her room.
Mary looked at him speculatively. "You're new here," she observed.
"First day," admitted Frank.
"And you're my new jailer?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.
"No. Sorry," apologized Frank. "Sarah had car trouble and will be late so I was asked to escort you to the common room."
"Too bad," Mary said, getting to her feet. "Okay, let's go. I don't want to miss any more of my show than I have too."
"I saw on your chart that you have been here awhile," Frank said as they went down the hall.
"What of it?" she demanded defensively.
"Nothing," Frank hastily tried to deflate her anger. "I was just wondering if you had met my cousin. She was in here earlier this year."
"What was her name?"
"Crystal Lane," answered Frank.
"Yeah, I met her," Mary admitted. "She was okay until she went loco. No offense," she added.
"None taken," Frank returned with a smile. "But don't you mean she was okay after she got over being sick?"
"I meant what I said," Mairy informed him stiffly. "She was nice but then she changed. She got so paranoid it was spooky."
"Paranoid? Crystal?" Frank demanded, acting like the concept was too much to accept.
"Yes, Crystal," affirmed Mary. "She swore we were all guinea pigs and she was going to prove it," she told him a s they reached the entrance to the common room. "See ya," she said, going inside and sitting down on the sofa in front of the television.
Frank checked her in with the nurse and orderly in charge and left. He had two patients to attend to this evening. One, Leslie Whitman, was an inmate of almost eight months and was well on her way to recovery, according to what the staff nurse had told him. She did not need constant supervision so all he had to do with her was escort her to the common room and leave. After her time there was finished, he was to take her to the bathroom and wait until she came out then escort her back to her room where she was not to be locked in. Only the patients of medium risk and up had to be locked in their rooms.
Frank picked up Leslie and tried to talk to her but she was incredibly shy and stuttered any answer that required more than one syllable. Giving up, Frank took her to the common room and left her there with Mary, who seemed to have developed a friendship with the girl. After checking her in, Frank headed back down the hall to his main patient of the evening: Joe.
As he approached, he saw Dr. Holden and another doctor talking just outside of Joe's door. Dr. Holden was writing something down. "Hello," Frank greeted the two men. He checked out the name of the unknown doctor: Dr. Kutchem.
"Good timing," Dr. Holden said, handing Joe's chart to Frank. "I have just finished his physical."
"It simply makes no sense," Dr. Kutchem said, still looking at Holden. "He's eating everything he is given but is still losing weight."
"Perhaps his metabolism is too high," suggested Frank.
"That has been taken into account," Holden acknowledged Frank's theory.
"What about depression?" asked Kutchem. "Unlike the others, he has been leaving his therapy sessions more depressed than when he entered," he added as he and Holden moved away.
Frank gritted his teeth in frustration as they moved too far away to be heard. He looked over his brother's chart before replacing it in the holder by the door and unlocking Joe's door and going inside.
Joe lay on the bed with his feet crossed and his hands tucked beneath his head. He looked at Frank as he walked in and sat up slowly.
"Hi, Baby Brother," Frank greeted him softly as he closed the door behind him.
"Hey," Joe said, giving him a wan smile. "Thanks for this morning," he added.
"Why did you refuse to eat last night?" asked Frank curiously. He still wondered if perhaps Joe was sick and the mystery at hand had just afforded him a good excuse.
"I thought they might think I was being too complacent," confessed Joe with a small shrug. "But I don't care if they do think that anymore," he added with a scowl. "That was one of the worst experiences of my life!"
"Have you found out anything?" inquired Frank.
"Maybe," Joe answered and told him what Brenda had said about Crystal.
"We need to find out if she was on any medications and what type of risk she was classified as just prior to her death," Frank said before telling Joe what Mary had said about Crystal's paranoia.
"How could she have been at risk when she was scheduled to leave here?" demanded Joe.
"Every patient has some level of risk attached to them in here," Frank explained. "Even if it is only low risk. Those patients effectively have the run of the place."
"Which would give Crystal the opportunity to find something out that she wasn't supposed to know," Joe observed. "How are you going to get at her files?" asked Joe.
"I'm not," Frank replied. "Dad will. He's undercover as the state inspector."
Joe grinned. "I thought I had seen that guy somewhere before."
"Joe, can I ask you a question?" Frank asked hesitantly.
"Sure," Joe said, cocking his head to the side inquisitively. The look of concern on Frank's face when he had entered the room had not escaped him.
"I know I shouldn't be asking you because what you talk about is private, but, well, Dr. Kutchem said you were more depressed after you saw the psychiatrist than you were before you saw him," Frank began.
"And you want to know what we talked about?" guessed Joe, raising an eyebrow. "Honestly, not much. But everything I said, he tried to twist around."
"How?" Frank demanded. If this psychiatrist was making Joe feel worse on purpose then he was going to have a payload of trouble heading his way.
"I don't know," Joe said in confusion. "It's just that when I say something he asks something that makes me think what I said sounds petty."
"Like what?"
"Nothing specific," Joe tried to stall, looking away from Frank guiltily.
"Joe?" Frank pushed.
"Okay, okay," Joe said, still not looking at Frank. "After the session today, I well, I felt jealous."
"Of what?"
"Of Phil," Joe answered miserably. "He made me think I was jealous of your relationship with Phil."
At seven pm exactly, Frank walked down the hall and stopped at the door of Mary Matthews, one of the patients who had been at the foundation for almost eight months. He opened the file holder and read her file, as was required of anyone entering a room, then replaced it and rapped on the door.
"Leave me alone!" shouted the belligerent girl.
Frank took a deep breath and opened the door. "Now, you know I can't do that," he said as he walked into her room.
Mary looked at him speculatively. "You're new here," she observed.
"First day," admitted Frank.
"And you're my new jailer?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.
"No. Sorry," apologized Frank. "Sarah had car trouble and will be late so I was asked to escort you to the common room."
"Too bad," Mary said, getting to her feet. "Okay, let's go. I don't want to miss any more of my show than I have too."
"I saw on your chart that you have been here awhile," Frank said as they went down the hall.
"What of it?" she demanded defensively.
"Nothing," Frank hastily tried to deflate her anger. "I was just wondering if you had met my cousin. She was in here earlier this year."
"What was her name?"
"Crystal Lane," answered Frank.
"Yeah, I met her," Mary admitted. "She was okay until she went loco. No offense," she added.
"None taken," Frank returned with a smile. "But don't you mean she was okay after she got over being sick?"
"I meant what I said," Mairy informed him stiffly. "She was nice but then she changed. She got so paranoid it was spooky."
"Paranoid? Crystal?" Frank demanded, acting like the concept was too much to accept.
"Yes, Crystal," affirmed Mary. "She swore we were all guinea pigs and she was going to prove it," she told him a s they reached the entrance to the common room. "See ya," she said, going inside and sitting down on the sofa in front of the television.
Frank checked her in with the nurse and orderly in charge and left. He had two patients to attend to this evening. One, Leslie Whitman, was an inmate of almost eight months and was well on her way to recovery, according to what the staff nurse had told him. She did not need constant supervision so all he had to do with her was escort her to the common room and leave. After her time there was finished, he was to take her to the bathroom and wait until she came out then escort her back to her room where she was not to be locked in. Only the patients of medium risk and up had to be locked in their rooms.
Frank picked up Leslie and tried to talk to her but she was incredibly shy and stuttered any answer that required more than one syllable. Giving up, Frank took her to the common room and left her there with Mary, who seemed to have developed a friendship with the girl. After checking her in, Frank headed back down the hall to his main patient of the evening: Joe.
As he approached, he saw Dr. Holden and another doctor talking just outside of Joe's door. Dr. Holden was writing something down. "Hello," Frank greeted the two men. He checked out the name of the unknown doctor: Dr. Kutchem.
"Good timing," Dr. Holden said, handing Joe's chart to Frank. "I have just finished his physical."
"It simply makes no sense," Dr. Kutchem said, still looking at Holden. "He's eating everything he is given but is still losing weight."
"Perhaps his metabolism is too high," suggested Frank.
"That has been taken into account," Holden acknowledged Frank's theory.
"What about depression?" asked Kutchem. "Unlike the others, he has been leaving his therapy sessions more depressed than when he entered," he added as he and Holden moved away.
Frank gritted his teeth in frustration as they moved too far away to be heard. He looked over his brother's chart before replacing it in the holder by the door and unlocking Joe's door and going inside.
Joe lay on the bed with his feet crossed and his hands tucked beneath his head. He looked at Frank as he walked in and sat up slowly.
"Hi, Baby Brother," Frank greeted him softly as he closed the door behind him.
"Hey," Joe said, giving him a wan smile. "Thanks for this morning," he added.
"Why did you refuse to eat last night?" asked Frank curiously. He still wondered if perhaps Joe was sick and the mystery at hand had just afforded him a good excuse.
"I thought they might think I was being too complacent," confessed Joe with a small shrug. "But I don't care if they do think that anymore," he added with a scowl. "That was one of the worst experiences of my life!"
"Have you found out anything?" inquired Frank.
"Maybe," Joe answered and told him what Brenda had said about Crystal.
"We need to find out if she was on any medications and what type of risk she was classified as just prior to her death," Frank said before telling Joe what Mary had said about Crystal's paranoia.
"How could she have been at risk when she was scheduled to leave here?" demanded Joe.
"Every patient has some level of risk attached to them in here," Frank explained. "Even if it is only low risk. Those patients effectively have the run of the place."
"Which would give Crystal the opportunity to find something out that she wasn't supposed to know," Joe observed. "How are you going to get at her files?" asked Joe.
"I'm not," Frank replied. "Dad will. He's undercover as the state inspector."
Joe grinned. "I thought I had seen that guy somewhere before."
"Joe, can I ask you a question?" Frank asked hesitantly.
"Sure," Joe said, cocking his head to the side inquisitively. The look of concern on Frank's face when he had entered the room had not escaped him.
"I know I shouldn't be asking you because what you talk about is private, but, well, Dr. Kutchem said you were more depressed after you saw the psychiatrist than you were before you saw him," Frank began.
"And you want to know what we talked about?" guessed Joe, raising an eyebrow. "Honestly, not much. But everything I said, he tried to twist around."
"How?" Frank demanded. If this psychiatrist was making Joe feel worse on purpose then he was going to have a payload of trouble heading his way.
"I don't know," Joe said in confusion. "It's just that when I say something he asks something that makes me think what I said sounds petty."
"Like what?"
"Nothing specific," Joe tried to stall, looking away from Frank guiltily.
"Joe?" Frank pushed.
"Okay, okay," Joe said, still not looking at Frank. "After the session today, I well, I felt jealous."
"Of what?"
"Of Phil," Joe answered miserably. "He made me think I was jealous of your relationship with Phil."