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Valerie turned around, relieved to see the figure of Charlie walking through the door.
“Val, you ran off again. I thought we talked about that,” he said, sternly. “I saw the basement door open when I came looking for you and figured you were down here.”
“I’m a big girl,” she said. “Is Doctor Whitmore okay?”
“He’ll live,” Charlie said. “Did his attacker come down here?”
“I’m not sure,” she answered. “I might have heard him. But look ...” She showed the janitor’s uniform to Charlie, revealing the large knife and electrical wire in the pocket.
“Looks like we have a new suspect,” Charlie said.
Valerie nodded, and after doing one more search of the basement, they headed back out of the darkness into the lit corridors of Elmwood. Valerie was glad to leave the shadows behind, but she just hoped that she’d put the voices out of her mind for good.
“We need to keep looking if the janitor is still in Elmwood somewhere,” she said as they walked down a hallway.
“Where haven’t we looked?” Charlie asked.
A horrible thought washed over Valerie. “We’ve checked the hallways and communal places, but we haven’t checked the patients’ rooms!”
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
Valerie and Charlie reached an intersection between two corridors, both lined with doors.
“You check the left-hand side, I’ll check the right,” Valerie said, her breathing fast and frantic.
They had already searched several rooms and had only managed to wake up patients. There was no sign of the janitor yet. The man Valerie now suspected was the killer at Elmwood.
Valerie headed to the right on her own, knocking on the doors, sticking her head in, and explaining to patients that she was with the FBI looking for the janitor, Saldana.
She was worried about how frightened some of the patients were. Many had cried and begged her to leave them alone.
“Please, I’m scared,” a lady sitting in a chair by the door said.
“Don’t be scared, ma’am,” Valerie said, feeling slightly guilty as she checked the room. “I promise everything will be okay.”
She didn’t know what else to say.
The lady looked so scared and alone that Valerie almost didn’t want to leave her, but she had to keep going.
She eventually reached the corner of the corridor without finding anything. As she turned to search another line of doors, a scream rang out from somewhere nearby.
Valerie’s heart leaped into her throat as she ran toward the scream.
She skidded to a stop in front of a door and tried the handle, but it was locked.
“Help me! Please, help!” a woman’s voice cried from inside the room.
Valerie stepped back and then ran at the door, shoulder first. The impact sent a jolt of pain through her body, but the door flew open.
Inside, she saw a terrified woman curled up in bed, her hands clutching her throat.
Just then, a dark figure appeared in the corner of the room wearing blue overalls. She could see him holding something in his hand. It looked like a large crowbar.
Valerie raised her gun and shouted for him to stop, but the man, who she was now sure was the janitor, threw the crowbar at her, knocking the gun from her hand.
Valerie turned and charged at the man, taking him by surprise as he swung his arm at her. She quickly kicked him in the chest, causing him to slam into the wall with a loudthud.
Breathing hard, she stood over the man’s body, but he wasn’t done yet. He reached up, grabbed her left leg, and lifted her off the ground before smacking her against the room floor.