Conduit (22 page)

Emily never found the assisted
living facility to have a pleasant odor. The hallways carried the distinct
odors of ammonia mixed with death, floating among decaying residents who came
there to live out their final years.

Though she couldn’t afford much more than this facility, she
rested easy knowing the smells inside did not reflect the care her mom
received. The nurses assigned to her mom were kind and gentle, and her doctor
always took the time to explain everything in great detail.

Emily signed into the visitor’s log and pressed a nametag on
her blouse. Simon, her mom’s favorite nurse, rushed over to her and wrapped his
arms around her. Simon was the first nurse she met when she checked her mom
into the facility six years earlier. As the only nurse who placated her delusional
tantrums without cracking under her insults, her mom took to him.

Easily the most difficult patient in the facility, her mom
directed her infamous tantrums not only at Emily, but also at the nursing and
orderly staff. Not even the janitor who attended to her room could catch a
break. She rarely left her room and insisted her meals be delivered to her
there, ready to attack anyone who dared to come through her door. Simon did not
let her affect him, but broke down her arrogant walls and played her game. Even
in her most forgetful states, she always remembered Simon.

“How is Mom?” Emily asked.

Simon released her from his bear hug and they started
walking toward her room. “She’s dreadful, as always,” Simon said, rolling his
eyes. “I was off work the past two days, and she refused to take her
medication. Earlier this morning, she threw water in Jenny’s face and claimed she
wanted her executed for trying to poison her.”

“So, she’s back in medieval times.” She gave him a sad
smile. “Good to know.”

Several years earlier, her mom was diagnosed with
frontotemporal dementia, even before the Alzheimer’s set in. Her brash behavior
became increasingly erratic, and her already sour personality changed for the worse.
She had been caught several times running around the facility half-naked, and
had overeaten to the point of gaining more than fifty pounds during the first six
months of her diagnosis.

Her inappropriateness was offset by periods of time when she
would stare out the window with nothing to say. She made up for the holes the
Alzheimer’s left in her memory by creating new worlds in which she lived.
Sometimes she was a duchess, other times a queen, or a wealthy socialite. No
matter the story, at all times she was rich and privileged, and she always
hated her burdensome daughter.

“Tell Jenny I’m so sorry,” Emily said. She hated any of the
nurses being on the receiving end of her mom’s bad behavior.

“We all know how your mom is and how sorry you are about it,
although you shouldn’t be. You didn’t make her like this. We just don’t
understand why you still come around so often. I wouldn’t if she were my kin.”

Emily questioned that as well, but locked up her thoughts
before she shared them. “I have a meeting with Doctor Luxor next week to see
about changing her meds again. If we can just find the right combination and
dosage of pills, maybe we can get her back to somewhat normal and she’ll stop
terrorizing everyone.”

He huffed. “Honey, anything would be better than this. I’m
tired of my co-workers being sent off for beheadings.”

“You and me both,” Emily said.

Simon stopped in front of her mom’s door. “Best of luck, Em.
I’ll be nearby if you need help.” He wandered off toward a patient calling for
assistance.

She took a deep breath and turned the doorknob. Though the
residents were allowed to decorate however they wanted, her mom’s room was just
as sterile as the rest of the facility. After her mom broke the third plant
Emily brought her, Emily stopped trying to decorate her room and gave in to her
mom’s wishes to leave it a dull beige and grey.

When she first came to the facility, Emily could only afford
a semi-private room. It only took a week before the director of the facility
called a meeting with Emily and explained her mom had terrorized her roommate.
She had to either move her mom to a private room or out of the facility
altogether.

Emily explained the financial strain with paying for even
the semi-private room, and the director agreed to give her mom a private room
at the same cost as a semi-private. Once Emily’s business picked up, she met
with the director and offered to pay the normal cost of the private room.

Even with the private room, her mom had been the sole force
behind three orderlies and two nurses quitting their jobs during her first year
at the facility. It had been a rough road for all involved in her mom’s care,
and the extreme burden always weighed on Emily.

This evening, her mom sat beside the window in a reclining
reading chair, her grey hair styled in a regal updo, face painted with heavy
makeup complete with red slashes of lipstick. She looked ready for a night out
on the town, despite her wearing her favorite black cotton bathrobe. Her
reading glasses were fixed on her nose, but she didn’t have a book in her
hands.

Emily sighed with relief. Maybe her mom had slipped back
into a silent state, giving them both some peace during her visit.

She pulled a visitor’s chair in front of her mom’s recliner.
Keeping her tone soft so as not to startle her, Emily said, “Hi, Mom. It’s me,
Emily. I’ve missed you and I hope you’re having a good day today.”

Her mom didn’t respond. She stared out the window, distance
in her eyes and a smile playing on her lips.

“Simon said you had some troubles with your medicine. Doctor
Luxor said it’s really important to take your medicine every day, no matter who
gives it to you. The medicine will make you feel better, but only if you take
it.”

Her mom shifted in her chair and continued looking through
the glass without a word.

“I met a man last weekend,” Emily said. She was never sure
how much of her life she should share with her mom, but her excitement over Jake
didn’t allow her to keep their romance a secret. “His name is Jake Hanley and
he’s wonderful. I think you’d like him a lot. He treats me really good, and he
might just be the one. He wanted to come meet you tonight, but I thought you
and I should have some time alone together. Maybe he can come next time and
meet you.”

No response.

Emily followed her mom’s gaze out the window. The night left
the view blackened, and she wondered what her mom saw that kept her eyes
fixated on the dark courtyard. “Business has been really great,” she said. “Cassie
and I are signing a new contract with Heartland Insurance. It’s a lot more business
for us, so we’re hiring a couple new people.”

Her mom lowered her eyes to her fingers.

“We’re working on a new case, Mom. It’s really got me
spooked, but I don’t know how to tell Cassie or Jake about what’s happening to
me, even though I should. I really wish I had you or Aunt Susan around to help.”

Emily pursed her lips at her mom’s silence. Her mom wouldn’t
respond to her, at least not tonight. Given how peaceful her mom looked, she
didn’t want to stay longer and possibly stir up trouble. It was always nice to
leave her mom on a good note, even though it happened only once or twice a
year.

She replaced the visitor’s chair in the corner of the room,
and then went back to her mom. She leaned over and kissed her forehead. “I love
you, Mom. I’ll see you in two weeks.” She turned to leave.

“I used to have a daughter named Emily.”

She whirled around at her voice. “Mom, I’m Emily.”

Her mom looked Emily over with an air of superiority and
snubbed her nose up. “You’re not my daughter,” she said. “My good-for-nothing daughter
is dead.”

She didn’t let the words affect her. She had heard similar
things so often, but she never knew if her mom said them because she didn’t
remember Emily or if she wanted to hurt her. “No, Mom. I’m your daughter, Emily.
Don’t you remember me?”

Her mom pressed her lips together and sat up straight. She
folded her hands on her lap and narrowed her eyes. “When that little brat was
two, she started choking on some of my expensive hard candy she stole out of my
crystal candy dish. Her worthless father removed the candy from her throat, but
he should have let her choke to death. Would have saved me a heap of trouble.”

The story was not part of her mom’s fantasy world. Emily had
heard many times from Aunt Susan how her father performed the Heimlich maneuver
on his young daughter. It was the last part of her mom’s statement that ripped
her heart to shreds.

Emily clamped her hand over her mouth. “Mom, you can’t mean
that.” Her muffled voice trembled under the weight of her mom’s words. Her
stomach tightened, and without warning the darkness overcame her mind. She
clutched her stomach and fought against the nausea brewing deep inside her gut.

“He’s going to get you. I can smell the filth all over you.”
Her mom turned toward her, flinging hatred at Emily from her eyes. “You deserve
what’s coming.”

Emily raced out of the room and slammed the door shut. She
crouched on the ground outside of the door with her tear-streaked face buried
in her hands and tried to shut out the sound of her mom’s cruel laughter from
the other side of the door. Someone knelt down in front of her and grabbed her
shoulders. She lifted her head just enough to see Simon’s kind face.

“Oh, Emily,” he said, enveloping her in his arms. “Whatever
she said to you, she didn’t mean it.”

“She meant it,” Emily said through her tears. “She’s always
meant it. She’s just never said it before.”

Simon squeezed her tighter. Emily was glad Jake wasn’t here
to witness her break apart like this, but part of her wished he was with her
now. Despite everything her mom said, her last statements scared Emily the
most. The darkness loomed in the front of her mind, and Emily realized if she
didn’t find a way to get rid of it soon, her mom’s prophecy would come true.

Emily’s visit to her mother was not going
well. Her sadness washed over David as if he experienced the emotion firsthand.
He finished pulling the fitted sheet over the queen size mattress, and sat down
on the edge of the bed for a quick break to catch his breath. When he connected
with Emily, he hadn’t prepared for the toll the connection would take. The
physical manifestation of their connection probably had a worse effect on her,
but it still taxed him at times and drained his energy.

Earlier that evening, he had followed Emily from her workplace
to the assisted living facility where her mother lived. From his research on her,
he learned her mother suffered from frontotemporal dementia and Alzheimer’s.

Their relationship was not typical of mother-daughter. He
had watched Emily leave the facility enough times with tear-stained cheeks and
red eyes to know they were not tears of sadness for her mother’s condition, but
remnants of the frayed emotions she experienced while visiting her mother. That
woman would likely die behind the doors of that facility, and her death couldn’t
come soon enough for David after the way she treated her daughter. Maybe once
he was with Emily, he would expedite her mother’s demise.

After he watched Emily pull into the facility tonight, he
drove his car past the entrance and toward his home. There was no need to stay
through her visit, or risk the temptation to go inside the facility itself and
get closer to Emily. It wouldn’t be long until she came to him.

He looked around the room he prepared for her. He needed to
get a few more things and finish making her bed. They wouldn’t stay long, but
he still wanted it to be nice for her for the one night she was here. After
that, they would move to the other house he had ready for them, far away from
Kansas. Neither of them would have to worry about a thing once they were in
their new home and sealed off from the rest of the world.

Stephanie waited for him in the basement. He had gone down
earlier in the day to provide her with a ham sandwich on a small paper plate
and bottled water. He gave her no utensils or glass, nothing she could use to
try to attack him. She needed to retain some of her strength so she could
contact Emily, and since he didn’t plan on killing her until tomorrow evening,
she would need food later tonight and tomorrow as well.

He didn’t mind feeding her. Keeping Jillian for several
hours proved beneficial. If he kept Stephanie alive for two full days, her fear
would be at such great heights that she would connect him to Emily on a much
deeper level.

When he delivered her food earlier, her growing fear pleased
him. He placed the sandwich and water in front of her on the ground, and sat
down several feet in front of her without saying a word. He watched her for
almost an hour, as she debated whether to eat, and then finally gave into her hunger.

After she ate, she fidgeted and tried to ignore him. A
flurry of questions came next. Who was he, what was she doing there, what did
he want with her? The endless questions amused him even more when she screamed
at him and broke down crying.

David picked up the flat sheet from the top of the dresser
and finished dressing the mattress. He headed to the kitchen, ready to make
dinner for Stephanie. He couldn’t wait to watch her squirm again, and he knew
it would take all the self-control he could muster to not kill her tonight. If
only Emily knew all the sacrifices he made for her. Maybe one day he would tell
her.

Lionel tucked his cell phone into
the pocket of his pants. Ever since Lindsay Alcott left the station yesterday,
Emily’s name came to mind as someone he wanted to talk with Lindsay. Cassie was
unavailable to go with her, but Emily agreed to go to Lindsay’s home that
afternoon to see if she could get any other information to help with the
investigation.

As he sipped his morning coffee, he stared at his desk phone,
waiting for the all-important call from Shawn to see if they had a match on
their latest victim’s fingerprints. With Stephanie’s abduction, their rush on
the identification of the last victim fell through the cracks. It happened
sometimes, but it didn’t make him feel any better about sitting on an
unidentified body.

Movement in the department outside of Lionel’s office caught
his attention and he looked through the window. Shawn ran through the office
with a file in hand and rushed through their office door. “What’s going on?” Lionel
asked.

“We have a match on the prints for our victim.” He sat in a
chair opposite of Lionel. “Jillian Waters.”

“Where did you get the prints from?

“She has a record,” Shawn said, with an excited smile that
Lionel had not seen on his face in almost a year.

Assuming he didn’t hear Shawn correctly, he flinched. “A
record?”

“Well, it would have been a record if she had been
prosecuted, but she was never formally charged after her arrest.”

“What would the record have been for?”

“Hit and run. It was four months ago, but like I said, they
never prosecuted her. Case never went to court and no deal was made. Prosecutor’s
decision.”

“If there was an arrest and no deal made, why would a hit
and run not go to court?” Lionel asked. “Was there not enough evidence?”

“Not sure. The lead officer on the case was Betsy Rogers.”

A young up-and-comer slated to move up the ranks fast, Officer
Betsy Rogers was well-known in the upper circles of the police department. The
divisions were preemptively fighting over her, but Lionel knew he would win and
get her in Homicide. They were all just biding their time until she took her
detective exam.

“How did Rogers end up with a case that wasn’t prosecuted?”
Lionel asked. “She’s a great officer and seals up her cases pretty tight.”

“I’m not sure. You want me to get her up here?”

“Right away,” Lionel said. “Something is completely off with
this victim. First the smoking, the personal attack with mutilating her face,
and now this. I think Rogers may have some answers for us, even if she doesn’t
know it. I don’t care what she’s doing or where she’s working. Track her down
and I’ll get clearance from the top to pull her.”

“You got it.” Shawn ran off toward the main hallway.

As Lionel headed to the Chief’s office to get approval to
pull Officer Rogers from her duties, his mind raced. Since the case started ten
and a half weeks ago with the first body, he was never closer to catching this
killer than he was now. The killer had been captured on a security tape before
he took Lucy Kim, and was seen by a homeless man as he dumped Jillian’s body.

With Jillian’s identification, they had more questions that
indicated more mistakes. Somewhere in their building was an officer who knew
more about their case than she realized, and she might just be the key to
preventing Stephanie Price from suffering a horrific death.