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Chapter or StoryAlthough these two ladies may remind you a lot on Miss Parker and Samantha Waters, they're not. This story is (c) 2006 by Mindwalker78
Oh, and feedback would be really nice :)
Rushmoor Facility, Augusta, Maine, late August
Chairman’s office
"Charlene, please, we already talked about this,” Melcome Ryan, chairman of a famous psychiatric facility in Maine sighed, “you know I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t had to. I need someone I trust on this.” He looked up to his niece.
Taking in the scent of citrus polish with a deep breath Charlene Ryan closed her icy blue eyes, “Fine.” Then she turned away from his desk without further comment and walked out on him.Long strides carried her gracefully over the white marble floor, her high heels making the only sound in the empty hallway.
She entered her own office, two floors above her uncle’s in the administration building. She paced in front of her desk, trying to decide what to do.
Officially, she was the Facility’s spokeswoman but unfortunately, she had showed great talent in tracking down escapees should that ever happen. So far, it only happened twice but her uncle and the board where very satisfied on how smooth and out of public eye she had solved their problem. Their patient was back locked up and in doctor’s care in less than 24 hours and everybody was happy.
Except for the patient who didn’t belong there in the first place but his wife had decided that she enjoyed spending his money and had arranged together with her lawyer that it was even easier while he was certifiably insane.
Ryan often asked herself why she played their game. When she had found out that something was wrong with this case she had started digging. And she didn’t like what she found.
When she had started working for her uncle, she was sure she did the right thing. She thought the Facility kept the world safe from those they housed and watched. The Facility was divided into two separate sections, a psychosomatic clinic and a forensic psychiatry. They helped celebrities cure their addicts and house dangerous, convicted criminals. Some people might call them psychopaths or plain monsters.
Until she found out that not all of the patients were really ill, or even fairly judged. But some people paid a lot of cash to keep them locked up out of their way, children to lock up their parent to get access to the family wealth, companies to get rid of business competition or to keep corporate secrets truly secret. Even the government “parked” unwanted witnesses at the Facility. Ryan had seen it all.
Now Ryan was disgusted and was trying to decide how to leave. She knew that no one with her level of knowledge had ever quit successfully.Not too long ago they hosted a high profile manager who wanted to tell all the dirty secrets about his company. Some people didn’t like that idea and he had ended up locked up and tranquilized for weeks until the medications drove him to kill himself. It was strange how much people believe when doctors tell them their loved ones had a nervous breakdown or something like that even without a history or mental malfunctions. As long as they were doctors, it was like they were untouchable. And the Facility had a whole staff of doctors on their payroll.
Running a well manicured hand through her long dark, auburn hair she leaned back on her glass desk, placing her hands flat on the surface."Why me?" Ryan sighed.
+++
Between Augusta and Waterville, Maine, same day
Tony Minetti got out of his business car, a fairly new black Chrysler Pacifica, and stretched his limbs. It was a bit colder here than in town, he thought, and pulled the collar of his dark blue wool coat up. The bright blue sky and the beautiful red colour of the falling leaves were a clear sign summer was finally giving way to autumn.His destination was about seventy miles outside of Augusta and if he hadn't known the way by heart, he would have never found the lonely ranch house in the middle of nowhere.
Tony had served in law enforcement for over twenty years, six of those as the leader of a special crime unit. His Italian heritage was obvious based on his handsome looks and charm.
A golden-retriever-mix came running, greeting Tony cheerfully with a waggin tail and excited barking"Good boy, Jerry!" Tony bent down to scratch his friend behind the ears. "Where's your mommy?" he asked, and Jerry took off running towards the barn.
Following him, Tony dusted off his black pants and peeked into the barn.
"Sam?" he shouted and waited for any sign that his former co-worker was inside."Over here," replied a smooth voice, and Tony followed it.Samantha Hayes grinned at her mentor and long time friend, welcoming him in a strong hug. "I didn't know you were coming to visit." "I've missed you, Sam." Tony stepped back and took a good look at his friend. Sam looked better. Her blond mane looked wild and natural, her skin wasn't as pale as when she quit, and she had gained back a few pounds, which suited her really well.Meanwhile Sam observed him as well. Sam knew him well enough to know he needed to tell her something uncomfortable. There were dark circles under his sparkling brown eyes, and the frown on his face seemed never to completely disappear. "How have you been, Sam?" he asked when they walked towards the house."I'm doing well." Sam sighed. "Jerry and I like it here, right boy?" Sam patted him, and he barked back as if he understood her."I can see that. And I'm glad." They shared a smile and walked up the two steps to the porch. Holding the screen door open for Jerry and Tony, Sam entered her kitchen after them.
It had been eleven months now since Sam had quit her job with the force, sold her house, and moved out here. Fourteen months since the brutal killing of her younger brother. Fourteen months that she tried to sleep without nightmares. It was getting better, though. While she was out here, without any radio or television, her only connection to the outside world her laptop, she had been able to balance her own state of mind, and finally accept there was nothing she could or would have done differently.After earning her Doctorate and joining the police force, she had rented a flat that she shared with her brother who was still in college. Life was good.
+++
But it hadn’t been always like that. Especially that one day in December.
"Something has happened to Angus." Tony said, with a pained expression on his face.
The wounds on her heart were just now closing and Sam could feel the mental scars daily. One of their bigger collars had been a successful manager, Ernesto Vega, who had raped three hookers and killed one before he was caught by Sam’s team. The media loved the case and it was all over the news. The reporters made her look like a hero and she couldn’t prevent being on the news and in the newspapers. Against her advice, the judge let Mr. Vega be released on a $500,000 bail, even though Sam’s profile stated that he was a ticking bomb ready to go off at any time.What nobody could forecast was that he was after Sam personally. Even though Tony had ordered surveillance, with prior consultation of the State attorney, Mr. Vega managed to slip away. They found out later that Mr. Vega had hired a private investigator to gather information about Sam. Information he used to find Angus on his way home from college. Vega had awaited him in a park that he daily crossed on his way home, and what had followed wasn’t pretty. Even the coroner had looked pale when they took the body to the morgue.“The beast is dead” was the headline to go with the picture on the front page of the newspaper that showed Sam with her gun, standing over Vega’s dead body. It had taken Sam and Tony’s team over two months to track Vega down after the murder. Two months in which Sam had spent every waking hour at the office, compiling a new profile while the rest of the team had followed every piece of forensic trace evidence they could find.The worst part was that Vega had made this his personal vendetta. Even from hiding, he kept sending Sam personal stuff from her brother. The cruellest “present” was an audio recording from the crime. Hearing her little brother, her only family, plead for his life, still made Sam still physical.+++
Augusta
Adrian Bloom, former inmate at the Facility, opened the motel room door and entered the cheap looking place. He put his small duffel bag on the single bed and closed the blinds after peering out. Satisfied that nobody was following him, he smiled, wrinkles showing on his otherwise boyish looking face. In the small bathroom, he let some water run over his hands and splashed his face and neck before he stuck his whole head under the spray. Grabbing a white towel he dried his face and some of his short blond hair before he looked at himself in the old mirror over the sink."Two down, only a few more to go." He said to himself and went back to his duffel bag. Unpacking a handwritten list of names, he scratched off the second in line.
