Once again Halden stood at the entrance to Rutledge, though it was for an entirely different reason this time. He needed to get to Faith's cell, and check the journal... he wasn't quite sure what for yet, but he was still certain that he needed to find it.
When he had come, Rutledge had seemed so different than the first time he had been there. It was dark, threatening. The first time he had been there, a few years before Reynald had come to management, it had been quiet, happy. The inmates had been happy.
He realised that he had seen Faith before, as a ten-year-old, a few years before his friend and mentor, Doctor Marcus, had passed away in a horrible train accident. She had seemed empty as ever, but at the same time, been content, and had liked Marcus. He had a way with children, Halden remembered.
Footsteps came from behind him, brisk and heavy. He turned around, and saw Reynald, and couldn't help the flash of red anger that appeared before his eyes. Reynald was another reason that he was here. Reynald needed some talking to.
"What are you doing here?" Reynald asked, sneering.
"I came to collect a few articles," he replied coldly. "There are a few things that belong to me that are still in Faith's cell."
Reynald sneered in disgust. "Very well," he conceded, after several moments of thought, and walked in, not caring whether Halden followed or not.
A nurse, Emelia, watched him as he entered the asylum, and snapped at Lucy to finish their chores. Lucy protested, saying that she had her own chores to do, but she glared at her and told her to get her arse moving then. Defeated, Lucy nodded, and Emelia strolled out of the nurse's quarters, checking her face and figure in the mirror before she went. She glanced back once at Lucy, and muttered, "Lazy little bitch," before walking down the hall, her five-inch stiletto heels not hindering her progress one bit.
Once inside, the man walked quickly to Faith's cell, she noted with disgust, and threw open the door. Everything was there, she knew- nothing had been touched. He left his briefcase in the centre of the doorway and walked inside. The stuffed rabbit was in the centre of the room, on its stomach. The bed was unmade, the torn sheet thrown back all the way. The raven was at the window, watching him warily. She came in, smiling pleasantly at him.
"That old raven hasn't moved an inch since Faith vanished," she drawled, flicking her pale blonde hair behind her shoulders and out of her crystal blue eyes. He turned, looking at her sceptically.
"Were you Faith's nurse?" he asked.
"In a manner of speaking- I was her substitute," she explained with a slight grimace. "What about the little rat? Probably came from the gutter- doesn't know Versace from Sears."
"I see," he said after a moment, and resumed his perusal of the room. Curious, she asked what he was looking for. He turned to her in obvious annoyance and coolly said, "For a few simple items that I need."
All she could do was nod. No one, especially a man, had spoken to her like that in her life. Brushing it off she laughed lightly and said, "My apologies, sir, I was thinking that maybe you wanted to be told a little about Faith."
"I was her psychologist," he returned, gazing at the tiny wardrobe. Faith's dress was there, purple and small. It would have been a little large for a nine-year-old, and he remembered that Faith had maybe -maybe- grown three inches, making her height, as she put it, a "measly five feet tall." There was also her big blue sweater there. To his irritation, the nurse showed no sign of leaving.
"Y'know, it's kind of funny," she reminisced, "that the second time Faith actually took off that thing for something other than washing-time, and wore her uniform, she disappeared."
Halden turned to her, and she used that opportunity to stretch luxuriously, giving him an ample view of her assets. She wasn't wearing a bra. He turned away in disgust.
She smiled at him, he raised an eyebrow and wished that one of her skinny heels would catch on the floor and trip her.
Finally, he caught sight of Alice's journal- half-hidden under the bed, and quickly reached to get it. Emelia, however, had a different plan in mind though, and stepped on it, just as his hand reached it. "Is that all you wanted?" she asked with a sexy pout. He nodded.
"Yes, and would you mind moving your foot?"
"Oh, but I wasn't aware that it was in the way of anything," she said innocently. He rolled his eyes and sighed.
"Then maybe you either need contacts, or better ones, because you're standing on something I need."
"Oh, you're no fun, baby," she purred, watching him. He grimaced much more pronouncedly this time.
"Well, sorry, but I happen to be married... baby." The last word he practically spat out. "Now please. Either you move your foot or I move it for you, and you won't like how." She watched him warily.
"How would you do that?"
"I would essentially yank it out from underneath your foot."
"And if I fall..?"
"Then don't count on being caught."
Once again she frowned, but this one was much harder, and her voice was a hiss when she next spoke. "You know that everyone here thinks that you're insane, Doctor Halden." He raised an eyebrow, appearing startled, and she smiled, satisfied. "Oh yes, Mister Halden. We all know you. Every single nurse here. Besides, if you're not insane, how did the little brat respond to you? What evil acts did you perform that made her so scared she talked?"
"Believe me, Emelia, if I had scared her, she would have clammed up worse than ever. Yes, I know about you, too. One of my associates warned me about you, and he was a very trusted friend. He was practically ashamed he knew you, the way you threw yourself at all the doctors."
"So who was this creep? I bet he was bald, fat, and horny," she hissed. Halden allowed himself an ironic grin.
"No, Emelia, it was Marcus Levan, your father. He was killed in a train crash about five years ago, and believe me, if it weren't for a father's love, you would have been left out of the will and disowned. Those were his words to me."
"That bastard left you the bulk of everything," she spat.
"That's because he liked me."
"Son of a bitch!" she shouted.
He yanked the journal out from underneath her foot, and true to his word, did not catch her when she fell.
When he had come, Rutledge had seemed so different than the first time he had been there. It was dark, threatening. The first time he had been there, a few years before Reynald had come to management, it had been quiet, happy. The inmates had been happy.
He realised that he had seen Faith before, as a ten-year-old, a few years before his friend and mentor, Doctor Marcus, had passed away in a horrible train accident. She had seemed empty as ever, but at the same time, been content, and had liked Marcus. He had a way with children, Halden remembered.
Footsteps came from behind him, brisk and heavy. He turned around, and saw Reynald, and couldn't help the flash of red anger that appeared before his eyes. Reynald was another reason that he was here. Reynald needed some talking to.
"What are you doing here?" Reynald asked, sneering.
"I came to collect a few articles," he replied coldly. "There are a few things that belong to me that are still in Faith's cell."
Reynald sneered in disgust. "Very well," he conceded, after several moments of thought, and walked in, not caring whether Halden followed or not.
A nurse, Emelia, watched him as he entered the asylum, and snapped at Lucy to finish their chores. Lucy protested, saying that she had her own chores to do, but she glared at her and told her to get her arse moving then. Defeated, Lucy nodded, and Emelia strolled out of the nurse's quarters, checking her face and figure in the mirror before she went. She glanced back once at Lucy, and muttered, "Lazy little bitch," before walking down the hall, her five-inch stiletto heels not hindering her progress one bit.
Once inside, the man walked quickly to Faith's cell, she noted with disgust, and threw open the door. Everything was there, she knew- nothing had been touched. He left his briefcase in the centre of the doorway and walked inside. The stuffed rabbit was in the centre of the room, on its stomach. The bed was unmade, the torn sheet thrown back all the way. The raven was at the window, watching him warily. She came in, smiling pleasantly at him.
"That old raven hasn't moved an inch since Faith vanished," she drawled, flicking her pale blonde hair behind her shoulders and out of her crystal blue eyes. He turned, looking at her sceptically.
"Were you Faith's nurse?" he asked.
"In a manner of speaking- I was her substitute," she explained with a slight grimace. "What about the little rat? Probably came from the gutter- doesn't know Versace from Sears."
"I see," he said after a moment, and resumed his perusal of the room. Curious, she asked what he was looking for. He turned to her in obvious annoyance and coolly said, "For a few simple items that I need."
All she could do was nod. No one, especially a man, had spoken to her like that in her life. Brushing it off she laughed lightly and said, "My apologies, sir, I was thinking that maybe you wanted to be told a little about Faith."
"I was her psychologist," he returned, gazing at the tiny wardrobe. Faith's dress was there, purple and small. It would have been a little large for a nine-year-old, and he remembered that Faith had maybe -maybe- grown three inches, making her height, as she put it, a "measly five feet tall." There was also her big blue sweater there. To his irritation, the nurse showed no sign of leaving.
"Y'know, it's kind of funny," she reminisced, "that the second time Faith actually took off that thing for something other than washing-time, and wore her uniform, she disappeared."
Halden turned to her, and she used that opportunity to stretch luxuriously, giving him an ample view of her assets. She wasn't wearing a bra. He turned away in disgust.
She smiled at him, he raised an eyebrow and wished that one of her skinny heels would catch on the floor and trip her.
Finally, he caught sight of Alice's journal- half-hidden under the bed, and quickly reached to get it. Emelia, however, had a different plan in mind though, and stepped on it, just as his hand reached it. "Is that all you wanted?" she asked with a sexy pout. He nodded.
"Yes, and would you mind moving your foot?"
"Oh, but I wasn't aware that it was in the way of anything," she said innocently. He rolled his eyes and sighed.
"Then maybe you either need contacts, or better ones, because you're standing on something I need."
"Oh, you're no fun, baby," she purred, watching him. He grimaced much more pronouncedly this time.
"Well, sorry, but I happen to be married... baby." The last word he practically spat out. "Now please. Either you move your foot or I move it for you, and you won't like how." She watched him warily.
"How would you do that?"
"I would essentially yank it out from underneath your foot."
"And if I fall..?"
"Then don't count on being caught."
Once again she frowned, but this one was much harder, and her voice was a hiss when she next spoke. "You know that everyone here thinks that you're insane, Doctor Halden." He raised an eyebrow, appearing startled, and she smiled, satisfied. "Oh yes, Mister Halden. We all know you. Every single nurse here. Besides, if you're not insane, how did the little brat respond to you? What evil acts did you perform that made her so scared she talked?"
"Believe me, Emelia, if I had scared her, she would have clammed up worse than ever. Yes, I know about you, too. One of my associates warned me about you, and he was a very trusted friend. He was practically ashamed he knew you, the way you threw yourself at all the doctors."
"So who was this creep? I bet he was bald, fat, and horny," she hissed. Halden allowed himself an ironic grin.
"No, Emelia, it was Marcus Levan, your father. He was killed in a train crash about five years ago, and believe me, if it weren't for a father's love, you would have been left out of the will and disowned. Those were his words to me."
"That bastard left you the bulk of everything," she spat.
"That's because he liked me."
"Son of a bitch!" she shouted.
He yanked the journal out from underneath her foot, and true to his word, did not catch her when she fell.