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Valerie turned to her colleagues. “Well, that gives Patrick an alibi. Back to square one, if Mary is telling the truth.”
The rain grew in ferocity outside, lashing against the windows nearby.
“It’s going to be a fun drive back to Quantico tonight,” Charlie said, looking out.
“Oh, surely you’ll be staying in Buford while you try to catch the killer?” Doctor Whitmore said, sounding surprised.
“We haven’t arranged accommodation,” Will replied.
Doctor Whitmore looked in thought for a moment. “Allow me to assist. You can’t drive home in this terrible weather. We have some guest rooms here for visiting evaluators and family members. It would be my pleasure to have you stay at Elmwood tonight.”
Valerie didn’t like the idea of staying there. It was too close to a nerve. The place was too similar to where Suzie was being treated.
For Valerie, there was a fear deep down that staying in a psychiatric facility would lead to more hallucinations and more sickness. And in the end, a permanent stay, not as a guest, but as a patient.
“I do feel beat,” Charlie said. “Might be good to stay here and get straight into things tomorrow?”
“I agree,” said Will. “And it would be excellent to have an opportunity to talk with you, Doctor Whitmore, about the treatment procedures here.”
“I’d be delighted,” the doctor replied.
Valerie smiled and found herself saying. “Sure, we can stay here tonight.”
But all she could hear was the grim rain on the windows outside and the grim warning in her mind. Not just surrounding her fears of falling into mental illness, but that the killer might still be in the building, prowling around as they sleep.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Melanie Adler felt pleased with her progress. Tomorrow was the biggest day yet of her recovery. She was going to be discharged from Elmwood Psychiatric Retreat.
It was time for her to rejoin the world and be with her family again. Her kids missed her. Her husband too. And she missed them.
Melanie’s mind ran rampant with excitement. She looked at the clock attached to the wall. It was nearly 2 AM.
She needed to sleep if she wanted to be rested for her big day, but her mind wouldn’t stop racing.
Eventually, Melanie gave up on trying to sleep and decided to get out of bed and go for a walk. She needed to burn off some energy.
Getting out of bed, she walked through the darkness of her room, opened the door silently, and entered the hallway.
The relaxing music of the retreat no longer played. But she often enjoyed going for a stroll around the retreat once most people were in bed. Only a few like-minded patients and the on-duty security guard and doctor would occasionally be seen.
Melanie walked down the long hallway, admiring the art on the walls. She made her way to the main hall and looked out the large window that overlooked the grounds.
The rain had stopped, but the wind still howled. The trees shook and branches swayed. Melanie felt a chill looking out at the dark night.
She turned away from the window and walked toward the other end of the hall. As she rounded a corner, she thought she heard something behind her.
She turned around quickly but saw nothing but an empty hallway lit by dim overhead lights.
Shaking off her nerves, Melanie continued walking, telling herself it was just her imagination playing tricks on her.
As she walked, she began to notice that there seemed to be more shadows than usual lurking in corners and lurking in doorways. And despite it being a warmer than usual autumn night, Melanie felt a cold chill run down her spine.
She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but Elmwood didn’t feel as welcoming as it once had. This shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but the death of Gillian Pugh was enough to put everyone on edge. In the back of her mind, Melanie thought that, perhaps, being out of her room at night was not a good idea, but she reasoned that the killer must have been long gone.
That’s if there ever was one. There were rumors among the residents at Elmwood that Gillian Pugh had staged the entire thing herself. One last way to gain attention.
Melanie hoped that was true. Elmwood had been so good to her; it would have been so sad to think that a murder could actually take place there.