Page 26
Story: No Quarter
“What about Gillian?” Charlie prodded.
Jordie looked tearful. “I’m trying not to think about her.”
“It’s hard to lose a friend,” Will said, soothingly. “Were you close?”
“A l ... little. But she got sick again and said I was one of them.”
“One of who?” asked Charlie.
“A demon.”
“That must have been hard,” Will said.
“I thought she’d come around once th ... they got her meds and therapy right again, b ... but now she’s gone f ... f ... forever.”
He looked down at the board and let out a short sob before wiping his eyes and looking around nervously as though he hoped no one noticed.
“And how do you feel about Gillian’s murderer?” asked Will.
Charlie was surprised at the sudden directness coming from his friend and colleague. Will was usually softer than that.
“I hate him,” Jordie said.
“Do you know him?” Charlie asked.
But Jordie just looked down at the ground and shook his head.
Charlie felt it in his gut: The patient knew something.
Will gave Charlie a quick, knowing glance.
“Jordie,” Will continued. “We think we can catch the murderer. We can stop the person who did this. But only with your help.”
“H ... How can I help ... I’m n ... not good at that sort of thing?”
“By telling us,” said Will. “Can you think of any of the other patients Gillian might have angered or gotten into an argument with?”
“N ... Not really,” Jordie said. “Sh ... She mostly just talked to me. Th ... The other patients were demons to her.”
“What about someone who worked here?” Charlie interjected. “An orderly, a doctor or nurse, or a ...”
“S ... Security guard?” Jordie said, finishing Charlie’s sentence.
Charlie and Will looked at each other. Charlie felt as though they were onto something.
“Yes, Jordie,” offered Will. “Like a security guard.”
Jordie looked around, eyeing the communal room around him suspiciously. He looked afraid.
“I ... I can’t say.”
“Can’t or won’t?” asked Charlie.
But Jordie didn’t reply, he just looked down at his hands, nervously.
Charlie felt sorry for him. He seemed like a nice person, stuck in a maelstrom of nerves. But Charlie had to push on because lives were at stake.
“Jordie, you have to speak to us, buddy,” he said.
Jordie looked tearful. “I’m trying not to think about her.”
“It’s hard to lose a friend,” Will said, soothingly. “Were you close?”
“A l ... little. But she got sick again and said I was one of them.”
“One of who?” asked Charlie.
“A demon.”
“That must have been hard,” Will said.
“I thought she’d come around once th ... they got her meds and therapy right again, b ... but now she’s gone f ... f ... forever.”
He looked down at the board and let out a short sob before wiping his eyes and looking around nervously as though he hoped no one noticed.
“And how do you feel about Gillian’s murderer?” asked Will.
Charlie was surprised at the sudden directness coming from his friend and colleague. Will was usually softer than that.
“I hate him,” Jordie said.
“Do you know him?” Charlie asked.
But Jordie just looked down at the ground and shook his head.
Charlie felt it in his gut: The patient knew something.
Will gave Charlie a quick, knowing glance.
“Jordie,” Will continued. “We think we can catch the murderer. We can stop the person who did this. But only with your help.”
“H ... How can I help ... I’m n ... not good at that sort of thing?”
“By telling us,” said Will. “Can you think of any of the other patients Gillian might have angered or gotten into an argument with?”
“N ... Not really,” Jordie said. “Sh ... She mostly just talked to me. Th ... The other patients were demons to her.”
“What about someone who worked here?” Charlie interjected. “An orderly, a doctor or nurse, or a ...”
“S ... Security guard?” Jordie said, finishing Charlie’s sentence.
Charlie and Will looked at each other. Charlie felt as though they were onto something.
“Yes, Jordie,” offered Will. “Like a security guard.”
Jordie looked around, eyeing the communal room around him suspiciously. He looked afraid.
“I ... I can’t say.”
“Can’t or won’t?” asked Charlie.
But Jordie didn’t reply, he just looked down at his hands, nervously.
Charlie felt sorry for him. He seemed like a nice person, stuck in a maelstrom of nerves. But Charlie had to push on because lives were at stake.
“Jordie, you have to speak to us, buddy,” he said.
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