Find Me If You Dare (The Chronicles of Elizabeth Marshall Book 2) (17 page)

                      Chapter Forty-Five

The tears were cried out and I was certain my face was a puffy red mess. I really didn’t have the energy to care.

Sitting in the parking lot outside the police department, Logan gave me some time to pull myself together before we went inside.
I was grateful, because the last thing I wanted or needed was to fall apart in front of his fellow officers or any of the federal agents. Just when I felt as though I had it under control, Logan cautioned me.

“Before we go inside, you need to be prepared,” he began. His words caused my stomach to turn to acid and I braced myself for what he had to say next. “You haven’t been back here since we went to Washington. Just a few things have changed. In the briefing room there are pictures and evidence
from Lewis’ crime scene. I asked for the most graphic ones to be put away, but this is still the taskforce headquarters. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

That’s right, another crime had been added to the rest, and this one hit extremely close to home. Was I ready for this right now?
I had to face it eventually. The longer I put it off the harder it would be.

I took a deep breath and straightened my shoulders. I gave Logan a nod, grateful that he was thoughtful enough to consider how all this would affect me.

I followed him through the back door of the police department. At any given time reporters were scoping out the main entrance and it was easier to get in unobserved through the back way.

As soon as we walked into the briefing room Madeline spotted me and made a beeline in my direction.
Her face was pinched with worry and apology. I think she still held herself responsible for leaving me alone for those few brief moments that night I had found out about Lewis.

“Caitlyn, I am so sorry,” the tiny woman had to stand on tip-toes to
reach up and give me a warm hug. “If you need anyone to talk to, please remember that I’m here for you. Not just as a professional, but I hope as a friend too.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, hugging her back. I really appreciated the offer. Maybe I wa
s the one that could have used a little professional help over the years. And who else to get it from than one of the best? “I might have to take you up on it.”

She walked with me over to the familiar dry erase boards. I looked at the timelines and maps. I braced myself and looked at the newest information that had been added to the rest. There was a picture of Emerald Downs, the racetrack where Lewis’ body had been discovered. There was a picture of the “symbol” written in blood on the stable wall. This time, though, I knew the
blood belonged to Lewis. My hands started to feel clammy.

“Caitlyn, you don’t have to look at this,” Madeline must have noticed how tense I was and sought to distract me. “Why don’t we see if we can find Director Phillips? Maybe there’s been something new in the case.”

She started steering me away when I felt my purse vibrate. I looked at it in annoyance.

“I’m really starting to hate this stupid thing,” I mumbled to myself as I pulled open my purse and started searching for my phone.
“Every time it rings it’s something bad.”

“Caitlyn don’t!” Logan was at my side in a heartbeat.

“Don’t worry,” I assured him, “I won’t answer it if I don’t recognize the number. I have to check though. It could still be someone in my family.”

Finally finding the phone at the very bottom of my purse, I yanked it out and looked at the caller ID.

“Hello, Dr. Ross.” He was really one of the last people I wanted to talk to at the moment but I almost welcomed the distraction from the crime scene pictures I was looking at. “This is unexpected.”

“Hello, Caitlyn.”
Just his voice still seemed to grate on my nerves. I thought back and realized that I hadn’t spoken to him since that day he had told me that Elizabeth had walked away from a group outing at her treatment facility. I had been so angry with him that day, so frustrated that he hadn’t listened to me when I had tried to tell him that she wasn’t cured, that she might still be a danger. I hated being right. Especially in this case.

“How can I help you?” I offered, wanting to get to the heart of the conservation and get it over with.

“I just wanted to offer you my condolences for your recent loss,” his voice sounded a bit more contrite than usual. I was a frankly surprised, usually he sounded so arrogant. Maybe this whole nightmare had humbled him a bit. Maybe he was feeling a slight sense of guilt for his part in her escape.

“Thank you,” I made an effort to sound gracious. “I appreciate your words.”

I was silent for a moment, not certain where to go next in the conservation.

“I was wondering,” he sounded a bit hesitant. That, too, was new. “Have they made any progress in the investigation?”

“Not a lot,” I answered truthfully, “we’re at a bit of a standstill at the moment.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He seemed to want to say more. I wasn’t certain where he was going with this. “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry that I didn’t do more.
I should have done more.”

What was this? I thought to myself. Since when was Dr. Martin Ross, the same man with a wall full of his accomplishments in his office, when had he developed a conscience? And since when had I become his confessor?

“I should have treated her better,” he continued. He almost seemed to be rambling.

The conversation was starting to make me feel uncomfortable. I
began walking around the room as I listened to him, Madeline never far from my side. I stepped back over to the dry erase boards, looking over the information from the earlier crime scenes.

“I thought I was helping her,” his voice was almost taking on a pleading quality, “I thought the medication would enable her to live a more productive life. I thought integration would be the best option for her.”

“In some cases it is the right option,” I found myself reassuring the doctor, feeling strange in my role as the counselor now. “But not in her case.”

I was now standing directly before the information
from Lewis’ crime scene. I was looking at a picture of his apartment, at the blood on the front door, as I listened to the doctor continue.

“I know, I should have been more open to your opinion on the matter,” his voice sounded strangely tense. If I didn’t know any better, I would have sworn he was about to cry.

I glanced more closely at the picture of the blood on the door of Lewis’ apartment, something nagging at me. I had been so stressed over the last few weeks, my reflexes were slow. It took a moment for it to sink in.

How did Dr. Ross know about my ex-husband? It wasn’t covered widely in the news here. The crime had happened in another state. Had Madeline or one of the other federal agents told him? It didn’t seem likely.

“Dr. Ross. Martin,” I dragged my gaze away from the crime scene photos to more closely concentrate on the conversation, “Are you ok?”

He didn’t answer right away. I didn’t like the silence. Some force I didn’t understand made me ask the next question.

“Dr. Ross, are you alone?” I held my breath, waiting for the answer.

“No,” the word was almost a sob. Dread filled me.

“She’s there with you, isn’t she?” I whispered in the small phone, fear and panic rising within me. Think clearly, think!

No answer.

“Are you at home?” I demanded.

“Yes,” came the small reply.

The next thing I heard was blood-curdling scream as the phone went dead.

       
              Chapter Forty-Six

The Lone Peak Police Department was the local jurisdiction in the upscale community of Highland City, Utah. They were able to reach the large, opulent home of Dr. Ross before we could make the near hour drive to the south.

They had found the doctor severely injured and barely alive.
The perfect little exclusive community was in an uproar. A Life Flight helicopter had had to land on the beautifully manicured lawn of the local golf course so that the patient could be flown to the University of Utah Hospital. The well-to-do residents were appalled. Their exclusive gated community was now on lock down while they searched for the attacker.

As we flew down I-15 at a high rate of speed and a Utah Highway Patrol escort, Logan and Director Phillips debated whether to go to the crime scene first and help search for Elizabeth or to
head for the hospital to see if Dr. Ross was conscious enough to interview. Madeline jumped into the discussion and won out. There were multiple jurisdictions heading for the crime scene as well as forensics. If Martin Ross was still alive and able to speak, he could give us some vital information.

We wo
und our way through Salt Lake City, up through the avenues to the large medical complex built halfway up the mountains. The University of Utah Hospital was one of the best hospitals in the intermountain west. Along with the Primary Children’s Hospital and the Huntsman Cancer Institute the medical centers had a national reputation for excellent care as well as cutting edge research.

On
ce we entered the hospital and took the elevator to the fourth floor and the MICU, I was surprised to already see an armed federal agent posted at the entrance.

We were told that they had only just stabilized Dr. Ross and transported him to the MICU.
It was standard procedure to only allow immediate family inside the unit. It took a good deal of badge flashing and persuasion for Dr. Ross’ emergency care physician to allow us in to see him.

I never liked hospitals, and the Medical Intensive Care Unit was one of the most difficult areas of the hospital to be in. These were the most sick and injured patients, clinging to life by inches, some dying.
The smell was always there, industrial disinfectants, sanitizers, cleaning supplies. Illness, injury, death. Perhaps is just reminded me too much of the State Mental Hospital.

Walking past the front desk, I noticed that all the patient rooms circled the main desk and instead of
a regular wall, they had walls of glass with sliding glass doors in and out of each room. I guess a patient’s privacy took a distant second to having a medical staff being able to see inside the room at all times and observing the patient’s condition.

I probably wouldn’t have recognized Martin Ross if I hadn’t known it was his room. He looked frail and weak, far from the arrogant, confident man I was used to dealing with.
I first noticed a large bandage across his neck where Elizabeth had tried to cut his throat. There were dark red abrasions on each wrist where she had bound him, probably on his feet too.

The local police
had found him unconscious and tied to a desk chair inside his office at his home. Elizabeth had probably held the phone for him while he had talked to me. When they found him, he was nearly dead from the loss of blood. Along with the slash across his neck there were also wounds to his face and head. He looked as though he could have been a survivor of a horrible car accident. Few areas of his face, neck and arms that I could see had been left unscathed. She hadn’t gone easy on him. 

There were tubes and wires and machines all around him. He had two IVs,
one giving him fluids and medication and another giving him a blood transfusion. It wasn’t likely we would be getting any information out of him soon. Still, we had to try.

Madeline had decided that I should be the one to try to speak with him first since I had a history with him. I tried to find somewhere I could give him a reassuring touch without interfering with any of the tubing or wires. His shoulder was the only place I thought would be safe.

“Dr. Ross. Martin?” I gave his shoulder a soft nudge. “Can you hear me?”

I looked closely for any response. His left eye was blackened and almost swollen shut, his nose swollen and red, maybe broken
. All those months of pent up aggression she must have carried towards him. I guess he was fortunate to even be alive.

Had the fact that I had realized she was there saved him at all? Had it scared her into fleeing before she finished killing him? I hoped so but I might never know.

I didn’t see a flicker of movement from him so I decided to try again.

“Dr. Ross, this is Caitlyn Stewart,” I spoke softly but with determination, “do you remember talking to me? Can you speak?”

Still no response. The doctors had already told us it was unlikely we would be able to speak with him. They were still uncertain about the extent of the damage to his throat and already knew he was very weak due to the loss of blood. I looked up at Logan and Director Phillips in question. Maybe we should just head to the crime scene.

“Martin,” the raspy voice made me jump, “call me Martin.”

I looked for any other sign or movement from him but could see none. All I could go by was his frail voice.

“Martin,” I immediately replied. “Do you know where you are?”

He finally blinked a bit with his one good eye, looked around for a moment then closed the eye with a wince.

“Hospital.” Was his one word response.

“That’s right. Do you remember what happened?” I asked quietly.

He nodded
just barely and was silent for a moment. He became still and I wondered if he had lost consciousness. I questioned just how far we should push him in his condition. I already had a frowning staff that was not happy that we were there interrupting his care.

“I had just come home from work,”
his scratchy voice finally answered although his eye didn’t open. “She must have been waiting for me and slipped in through the garage right after I pulled in.” His words were slow and deliberate. His breathing was labored as though he had been running a marathon. “That’s the only way she could have gotten through my home security system. As soon as I got out of my car she was there, behind me. She had a knife to my throat before I even knew she was there.”

I had to swallow hard at the thought. It hadn’t been that long ago that I was that close to her. She had held my hand, pretended concern and tried to stop the bleeding. I could never forget that cold skin and equally cold eyes.

“What happened after that?” I carefully prodded.

“She forced me into my house, into the office,” he paused for a moment, as if needing to gather his strength. “She hit me in the head, hard. I wasn’t expecting her to become so violent so fast. While I was still stunned she bound my hands and feet with duct tape. She came prepared. She had this planned.”

“We should have considered you a target,” Logan spoke for the first time, regret in his voice, “we should have had patrols watching you.”

“I thought about asking for prote
ction,” Martin said with a sigh. “When I first found out she had left the treatment facility. But I thought I was safe. Goes to show you how much protection you really have in a gated community.” He gave a dry laugh.

“What did she want?” I felt compelled to ask. “She must have been there for a reason.”

He closed his one eye for a moment and let out a long breath. His silence caused the beeping of the machines to sound louder. It was then that I noticed his hands shaking as they lay on the white hospital blankets. I looked over at the monitor and watched as his heart rate started to increase along with his blood pressure. Any higher and he was going to start setting off the alarms.

“Martin,” I spoke in a soothing voice. I tried to put a reassuring hand on top of his. He had to calm down, “Are you ok?”

His right hand grasped mine with a suddenness that took me by surprise. His one good eye stared into mine, the other fighting to open.

“She was there for a reason.” He gasped with an intensity that I didn’t think his frail body was capable of. “She was there to introduce me to the Dragon.”

His heart rate shot up and the alarms went off. Before he could say another word the doctors and nurses were rushing into the room and ordering us out. His body seemed to deflate as the strength went out of him.