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“These are such a mess,” Will finally sighed, throwing down some papers on to the desk in front of him. “There should be a patient summary at the beginning of each file, but instead, there are all of these in-depth notes. I mean, it’s great that they areso thorough here, but without the summary, we have to read through pages and pages in each file to make sure we haven’t missed something.”
“I know,” Valerie said, despondently.
She picked up the next file and saw that there was a green sticker on the front page. It was the fifth one she’d seen so far in the records. Most had yellow stickers on the front. A few red.
“I wonder what these green stickers indicate?” Valerie asked out loud. “It must be part of their filing system.”
“I’ve seen them before,” Teller said, looking up from his work. “I was called up here a couple of years ago because a patient had stolen some medication. He was a green sticker. It usually meant that the patient has the freedom to walk around the facility.”
“That’s interesting,” Valerie said, thinking. “So, not every patient is allowed free reign to go where they please?”
“I think an amber sticker,” Teller continued. “If I’m remembering right, means they’re allowed to walk around the communal area, the dining hall, and a couple of other places. Red means they’re not allowed out of their rooms unaccompanied. Green means they can walk wherever they please, even into the grounds.
Valerie stood up, a singular thought coursing through her mind. She walked over to a smaller desk they kept specifically for victim details. She sat down at the desk and opened the bottom drawer. She took out the box of patient files and placed it on the desk in front of her. She scanned the labels on the front of the files. They stared back at her, and a theory began to build in Valerie’s mind.
“Gillian Pugh had an amber sticker,” Valerie said. “So, that means she only had access to specific areas.”
She rifled through the files.
“Melanie Adler had a green sticker, most probably because she was well enough to leave.”
“So, she was able to go anywhere in Elmwood,” Charlie observed.
“To the bathroom at night without calling for an orderly,” Will offered.
“Maybe we’re wrong, then. It could be somebody who works here,” Valerie said. “At Elmwood. Somebody who knows which patients are allowed to walk around and where.”
“An orderly or a nurse?” Charlie mused.
“Who was the doctor in charge of each victim, out of curiosity?” Will asked.
Valerie looked down at the files and she felt the adrenaline rush through her veins. “All three were overseen by Doctor Rebecca Winters.”
That name was still familiar. It stuck in her mind like a thorn.
“Have you met Doctor Winters before, Sam?” Charlie asked.
“Sure. She drinks down at the tavern in Buford. She’s the nicest doctor here,” Teller said. “I can’t believe she’s a killer.”
“It’s worth questioning her, but we shouldn’t jump to conclusions just yet,” Valerie said. “We should take this slowly and thoroughly. This could all be a coincidence.”
“I agree,” said Will. “This retreat probably only has a handful of doctors working at it, so we shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves.”
“Still, it’s a lead.” Charlie nodded, hopefully. “But weren’t you certain the perp you chased out of the boiler room was a man, Val?”
“I could have been wrong.”
“Or there could be two killers,” Teller said.
That thought made Valerie uneasy. She didn’t think any of this had the hallmarks of a serial killer pact. Those were exceptionally rare.
“You and Sam keep looking for more potential suspects,” Valerie said. “Will, could you come with me, and we’ll question Winters?”
“Of course.”
With a sense of determination, Valerie led Will out of the records room and down the hallway toward Doctor Whitmore’s office.
As they walked, Valerie’s mind raced with questions. Who was this mysterious killer? Why were they targeting patients at the psychological retreat? And how were they able to get away with it for so long without being detected?