Don't Slay the Dragon (The Chronicles of Elizabeth Marshall Book 1) (24 page)

Chapter
Forty-Five

By the next morning, the media still hadn’t released the names of the officers involved in the shootout. I had texted then tried calling Logan but all I got was his voicemail. The news channels were covering the story non-stop. One officer had died at the scene and six others were wounded and being treated at two local hospitals. It had been a long, sleepless night. My cell phone was never out of reach as I dressed and left for the Christmas party and brunch with my family.

The snow had stopped from the day before and the whole world seemed covered in a blanket of white. The snow trucks were just clearing the streets as I pulled on my gloves and scraped the snow off the windows of my car. There was probably a good six inches of fresh powder. The sky was a blinding blue with hardly a cloud in sight to prove there had been such a storm system that had passed through the day before.

At my parents’ home I tried to relax and enjoy being with my family, but I was never good at hiding my emotions. The shooting was a main topic of conversation at my parents’ home. It seemed to hit close to home. It was rare for violence like that to happen in our small community and we all felt the impact of it.

My grandparents on my mother’s side were there. My dad’s father had passed away several years ago and his mother was visiting an aunt in California for the holidays.  It was a comfortable group, relaxed and informal.

Zach was home from college at
the University of Pennsylvania in Pittsburg where he was scheduled to graduate from law school this next spring. He already had his hopes set on practicing at a large law firm in Salt Lake. He had also taken several medical courses so he could specialize in medical malpractice. I had to admit, I was pretty proud of my little brother.

He was engaged to a young woman
named Emiko he’d met there at school. She was originally from Japan and was attending the Business school there in Pittsburg. We had yet to meet her and had hoped he would have brought her with him for this visit, but she hadn’t been able to come. She had a grandmother back home that was ill and had returned there for the holidays for a visit. 

Meghan had
just made her big announcement that she was having a boy. Her husband seemed more interested in watching the play-off game on the flat screen than he was in his wife’s excitement. I gave her a big hug of congratulations and chatted with her a few moments about planning a baby shower in a few months. She was filled with ideas about a theme and a cake and the decorations.

When my cell phone rang, I tried not to jump at the ring.  I slipped away into a guest bedroom to answer it
, hoping my absence wouldn’t be noticed.

I was so relieved to hear Logan’s deep voice that I melted down onto the perfectly-made bed in a heap. He was quick to assure me that he was uninjured. He had been on-call last night and had been called in as backup when the suspect had started firing. He had taken a bullet to
the upper left side of his chest but the Kevlar vest he had been wearing had saved his life and he had been left with little more than a bruise.

The others hadn’t done as well. He couldn’t tell me names because some of the involved officers were working under cover, but he did tell me that one of the fellow officers had been a friend from his department. He had been shot in the head and Logan had had to drive him to the hospital in his unmarked car because they couldn’t get the scene cleared fast enough and couldn’t get enough ambulances there in time.

It had taken him so long to call me back because he had been waiting with that officer’s wife and family while he’d been in surgery. He’d pulled through but was currently in Intensive Care.  He only knew bits and pieces of the conditions of the other five officers.

I was just grateful he was safe.

After that, I didn’t hear much from him over the holidays. I learned more about the shoot out from the non-stop news coverage. It filled every newscast and had even made the national news. I knew the law enforcement community here was very tight, loyal and supportive to each other.

When he did find the time for a rare call he would tell me about how the officers throughout the county were constantly visiting the still hospitalized officers when they weren’t on duty themselves. There was a strong
support system for the officers’ families too. I could tell Logan was exhausted. Between his regular shift, the overtime, and the support of the injured officers, I knew he was burning the candle at both ends.

He also told me that there was so much evidence at the scene of the crime and it was such a high priority that the county CSI was going to have to put the items from Lisbeth’s case on a back burner for a while.
I completely understood since the incident was so high-profile. The suspect had survived the shoot out and it was very important to process everything correctly to prepare for his trial. The entire community was in an outrage over having so many of our law-enforcement officers injured and they were planning a large funeral and procession for the fallen officer.  

After Christmas, I had a small break from school before the New Year and the next term started. It had been a while since I had visited Lisbeth and I was thinking about going down to see her, perhaps taking the picture of Skye with me to share the good memory with her.

The day before I was planning on dri
ving down to see her. I received a strange call from Dr. Ross. He asked me not to come and see her for a few weeks.  I thought it was a very odd request. He usually encouraged me to visit her often because the different personalities manifested frequently when I was present, and it gave him ample opportunity to study and document them. The only information he would share with me was that he was trying a new medication with Lisbeth and he wanted to give it time to work through her system before I came and she had any unfavorable reactions to me. 

It was a peculiar thing to ask of me. I didn’t trust Dr. Ross.
There was just something about him that I didn’t like. In every dealing I’d had with him, he had always seemed so arrogant and self-serving. There had never seemed to be any concern for Lisbeth or her well-being, only a total focus on how he could benefit from her diagnosis.  On a more personal level, I had to admit, the man just made my skin crawl.  

Chapter Forty-Six

“There’s a message here from Dr. Ross that says you have to speak with him before you can visit Ms. Marshall,” the frowning female attendant informed me as I passed through security at the hospital.

“Is he in his office?” I asked, trying not to be annoyed at his maneuverings.

“He said to let him know when you arrived and he would meet you there.” She picked up the phone next to her and dialed a number. I could hear her letting Dr. Ross know I was here.

As I made my way to his office, I wondered again what this was all about. I arrived before he did and his assistant
, Theresa, left me to wait in his office. Again, I looked over his “I love me” wall at all of his noteworthy accomplishments. I was just reading a framed article he’d written for the American Journal of Psychiatry entitled “The ground-breaking new treatments for adolescent females with first episode schizophrenia.”

“Interesting article?”
He asked from behind me.

“I haven’t had a chance to read beyond the first paragraph,” I answered truthfully.
For some reason I didn’t feel the need to complement his article and boost his already enlarged ego.

“It was one of my better articles, although I’ve written for several major publications.” He must have noticed I wasn’t gushing with praise at his successes.
He gave me a dismissive look then sat down behind his large desk.  I took my usual seat across from him.

“The reason I’ve asked you to meet with me first today is because I wanted to let you know there have been some remarkable changes with Elizabeth.” I didn’t like the sound of that. With what I had experienced during my past visits with her, that statement could mean any number of horrible things. “You see, I have been working very closely with one of the top pharmaceutical companies in the country. They’ve developed a new drug that may have some amazing possibilities.” He was making
infrequent eye contact and seemed to be looking at his computer screen more than he was at me. “Now, it hasn’t been approved by the FDA but I’ve been given the opportunity to pioneer some clinical trials.”

I had a dark feeling I knew where this was leading. I bit my lip to keep from opening my mouth and jumping to conclusions before I knew the whole truth.

“The drug is called Praxitol. It has a great deal of promise and they believe it may be the most effective tool we have right now for the possibility of integration in dissociative identity disorder.”  He talked as though he expected the big words to go right over my head. He might never understand just how familiar I was with these terms.

“Are you telling me you’re going to put Lisbeth on this new drug?” Did he really not understand how unique her case was and how a treatment that might work on other patients probably wouldn’t work on her.

“I already have. She’s been on Praxitol for almost three weeks now and doing remarkably.”

I did the quick math and realized he must have started her on the drug right after my last visit
, when I had met Myst.

“How did you get the release forms signed for the trials?” I knew enough about medical trials to know that if the patient was underage or found to be incompetent a parent or guardian had to agree to the trials. “Lisbeth doesn’t have anyone to sign for her.”

“Elizabeth signed the papers herself.” He announced.

“But she’s not competent,” I argued, my temper rising. “You saw the condition she was in during my last visit. She’s not capable of making that kind of a decision.”

“I found her competent and I am her primary doctor.” The smile he gave me was so smug I was surprised at how much I wanted to slap it off his face. How dare he take that kind of control over her.

“You know it won’t work,” I protested. “The doctors before tried everything and they were never able to get her integrated.”

“My dear Miss Stewart, weren’t you listening to me?” His tone was now so condescending that I had to grip the arm rests of the chair I sat in to keep me seated. “I just explained this is a new drug, with great promise.”

I was torn. A part of me wanted to believe that integration was possible. I wanted the hope of Lisbeth being able to live a normal life. But something seemed to be nagging at me. What if there were members of the family I needed right now to help me with her case? Some of the family members had
memories of things that others did not. What if Bethany or Myst had some vital information for me that could prove her innocence and Dr. Ross had all but made them disappear? I was grasping with the possible ramifications of all this when a sudden thought hit me. Sophie.

“You do know that she has been able to fool other doctors before, don’t you?”

“What do you mean?” His confident mask seemed to slip a notch.

“Before, when the other doctor
s had tried to integrate her she was able to fool them. She’s very convincing. She could make even the best doctors believe the medication had worked and she was completely integrated, but she wasn’t. She was acting, pretending.”

He was silent a moment and seemed to be regrouping. He quickly typed something into his computer then turned to give me his full attention. There was a slight tone of anger in his voice and more than a little bit of stubbornness.

“Trust me, Miss Marshall, she won’t fool me.” The determined smile he gave me was one worthy of Sophie. “I’ve studied her in every conceivable way, and I would know if she was acting. The Praxitol has worked. There is no way she could be faking it this well. Why don’t you go see for yourself? She should be waiting for you in the observation room by now. You’ll see for yourself that I’m right.”

So this has become some contest to see who was right? I thought in annoyance. He had no idea what could be on the line if he was wrong.
He had already turned back to his keyboard and was quickly typing in notes. He had dismissed me, as though I had already left the room.

I gathered my coat and purse and rose to leave the room. At the doorway I turned back, trying to make one final attempt.

“Well, at least I’ve warned you,” I shrugged. “If you’re wrong about his new drug you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”