Family Ties (Flesh & Blood Trilogy Book 2) (14 page)

The moment Dr. Detweiler had mentioned violent tendencies, my mind went straight to Randy. Rather, Randy’s case. Randy was in prison for allegedly killing nine women, but I had always found it hard to believe that my father, the gentle former preacher, could be capable of such violence. Brian, on the other hand,
was
apparently capable of violence. But was it even possible? Could Brian be the real killer?

“Do you know if Brian was incarcerated in the mid-nineties?”

“I don’t know without thoroughly reviewing his file, but I don’t recall any extended periods of confinement during that time. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, no reason.” I had to change the subject before the good doctor became suspicious. “Do you know where Brian’s mother is now?’

Dr. Detweiler looked nonplussed. “Brian’s mother? No. No one here has ever seen or heard from her. Brian, on the other hand, swears he’s seen and talked to her. But we have never been able to determine if it’s real or simply more of his hallucinations.”

“That’s very strange, don’t you think?”

“I suppose it is, but many of my adult patients don’t have parents visiting them often. This type of mental illness can be very difficult for family members. Some people, quite frankly, can’t handle it.”

“So Brian was all alone?”

“I suppose you could say that.”

How very sad
, I thought. To be so sick and so alone at the same time. I made a vow then and there that whatever the circumstances, I would find a way to be a part of Brian’s life from that point forward.

“And you have no idea where he might be?”

“None whatsoever. I’ll be honest with you, Mrs…Libby, we should have reported Brian’s departure to the authorities, but we became very fond of him during his stay here and since he was only a few months shy of completing his stay, well, we sort of…”

“Lied?”

“We simply noted in his record that he was discharged early. Not a lie, really. Simply a bending of the truth. I really felt sorry for Brian and I didn’t want him to go to jail.”

“I see. Well, Dr. Detweiler,” I said as I stood from my chair. “Thank you for your time. And thank you for the information.”

“Glad I could be of assistance.” He held out his hand and I shook it.

I felt disappointed as I turned to go, until a thought hit me like a bolt of lightning. I turned and faced the doctor again. “Are there any nurses still here who cared for Brian during his stay?”

He raised one of his grey eyebrows, but answered me anyway. “Yes, I believe all of them are still here. We don’t have a very high turnover rate. We offer excellent pay and benefits and—”

“Could I possibly speak to one of them?”

“I don’t see how that would help any.”

“It couldn’t hurt, could it?”

“I can certainly see if any of them are here today. But I will tell you, they are bound by the same ethical rules I am bound by. There won’t be much they can tell you, legally speaking.”

“That’s okay. I’ll take whatever information I can get. I really need to find my brother.”

“In that case…” Dr. Detweiler moved over to a large file cabinet behind his desk and opened the top drawer. He rifled through the files until he found the one he was looking for and pulled it out. He laid it on his desk and flipped through the pages, scanning the words with his forefinger. Suddenly he tapped the page and looked up at me.

“Gregory Wheeler.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Gregory Wheeler was his primary nurse. He probably spent more time with Brian than anyone else.”

“Is Gregory here today?”

“I believe so. Hold on one moment.”

Dr. Detweiler picked up his phone, punched in a couple numbers and then asked the person on the other end if Gregory Wheeler was on duty. He thanked the other person and hung up.

“You’re in luck. Gregory is here today. I’ll take you to him.”

Chapter 14

I followed Dr. Detweiler down the long corridor until we arrived at a small room at the end. The door was open. It was apparently the break room. Sitting at a round table were three nurses, all wearing light blue scrubs and Crocs of varying colors, eating chips and drinking bottled water. One was female and two were male. I wondered which one Gregory Wheeler was.

“Gregory,” Dr. Detweiler said to the short, pudgy black man. “There is an investigator here who would like to talk to you about Brian Larson.”

Gregory’s eyes widened and he nearly spat out the water he had just sipped from a clear plastic bottle. The other two nurses apparently took the cue, got up, and left the break room, leaving Gregory all alone at the table.

“Investigator?” he said, looking me up and down. “You don’t look like any cop I’ve ever seen.” His voice was effeminate and he raised one eyebrow and cocked his head to the right.

“I’m a
private
investigator, actually,” I told him, somewhat defensively.

“Gregory, I want you to cooperate and tell this young lady what you can about Brian, keeping patient confidentiality in mind. As it turns out, she is also Brian’s sister.”

“Sister? Uh, uh,” he said, shaking his head fiercely. “Brian didn’t have no sister.”

“It’s a long story,” I said in a softer tone, trying to break through the wall Gregory had quickly built between us. “I’ll explain it to you, if you’ll hear me out.”

Dr. Detweiler turned and left the room, leaving Gregory and me alone in the breakroom. I sat down in the chair across from him.

“Well?” he said with a tilt of his head. “Go on.”

I gave him the nutshell version of everything that had transpired in the past few months, starting with Ryan’s murder. When I was done, Gregory’s face had completely changed. He had softened toward me and he looked truly fascinated.

“Child, you been through it!”

“Tell me about it,” I said, relieved we were now speaking amicably. “So, as you can see, it’s very important that I find my brother.”

“Girlfriend, Brian was a hot mess. But I liked him. He was just…troubled. I’m sure the good doc informed you about his diagnosis?”

“Schizophrenia. Yes, he told me.”

“Okay, then if you know anything about schizophrenics, you know how hard my job was. I took care of that man day in and day out for nearly two years. It wasn’t always easy, child, but Brian really was a kind person, deep down. He just had demons. Very real, very scary demons.”

“For example?”

“Oh, gosh, let me see.” He put his chin on his hand and his elbow on the table while he pondered. “Like I said, for the most part, Brian was a very sweet man. But there were times when he would just freak out on me for no apparent reason. I had to watch what I said and did very carefully. If he felt like I was coming after him or if I asked too many questions, he would get all paranoid and it would take forever to calm him down.”

“Was he ever violent toward you?”

“Not with me, no. But he had learned to trust me. You see, with Brian, it took him a while to warm up to somebody, but once you earned his trust, you were golden. He trusted me. But some of the other nurses and a few of the orderlies weren’t so lucky.”

“Why? What happened?”

“There was this one incident…about a year ago, I think…when a new orderly came in. He was just trying to get to know Brian, but I guess he asked too many questions. Brian kinda freaked out on him and this orderly, not really having much experience, tried to calm him down by grabbing hold of his shoulders. Child, Brian just went berserk on the poor guy. Shoved him against the wall and held his forearm across his throat. Brian was convinced the guy was a CIA agent come to spy on him. Thank goodness me and some of the other staff heard the commotion. We rushed in and pulled Brian off the poor guy. The orderly had a bruise on his neck for the next few weeks, but other than that, he was no worse for wear.”

“Oh, my God,” I said, slack-jawed. “So he can be violent?”

“Under certain circumstances, yes. But the poor guy didn’t really
mean
to hurt anybody. When he was properly medicated, he almost seemed like a normal dude.”

“What do you mean by
when
he was properly medicated?”

“Brian was smart enough to know he was being medicated, so he’d go through these periods when he felt like he didn’t really need the medicine anymore. Child, he’d cheek the pills and spit them out later. After a few days, we could tell he was off his meds. This happened two or three times since he arrived here.”

“So what happened when he left?”

Gregory’s demeanor changed almost instantly. His shoulders stiffened, his posture straightened, and his jaws clenched. He seemed closed-up and defensive all of the sudden. “I don’t know,” he said. But I could tell he knew.

“Gregory, it’s very important I find my brother. Anything you can tell me that might help would be greatly appreciated.”

“I don’t know anything about that.” He crossed his arms over his chest and looked everywhere but in my eyes.

“Gregory, please. You might be the one person who knows Brian best in this world. I really, really need to find him. If you care about him, even just a little, you need to talk to me. I can get Brian the help he needs. If he’s out there somewhere, off his meds, he could be a danger to himself or even other people. Please.”

His face softened, his hands dropped down to his sides and he once again looked me in the eyes. “Oh, okay. I’ll tell you what I know. But you have to promise me you won’t tell Dr. Detweiler. I could lose my job. And I love my job.”

“Okay, I promise,” I said, hoping I’d be able to keep my word.

He sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. “It all started back in May. One morning I went into Brian’s room to check on him. He was really worked up…excited even. When I asked him what he was so excited about, he told me it was a secret. When I pressed him on it, he swore me to secrecy and then told me his mother had come to visit him in the middle of the night.”

“But is that even possible? Wouldn’t you guys have some sort of log of who visits and when?”

“Exactly! Not to mention visiting hours end at eight p.m. So there was no way his mother came to see him. But I listened anyway, pretending to believe him. He was pacing the room and talking so fast I could barely understand him. He said his mother had brought him a message and he needed to leave. There was some sort of ‘plan’ he had to follow. I explained to him that he only had a few months left until he was allowed to leave and then he could go anywhere he wanted. He said, no, it had to be soon. I asked him what the message was. He said—”

“What did he say?”

“It’s really crazy, but he said his mother told him he needed to go to Kentucky. He wouldn’t tell me anything else that his mother told him. Said it was a secret between them. But he was determined to leave and make his way to Kentucky.”

“Why Kentucky?” I asked. The only relationship I knew he had to Kentucky was his grandparents. Maybe he went to Irvine. But then again, Harold and Betty Sue had seemed very believable when they said they had never met Brian. The only other connection he had to Kentucky was me, but he didn’t know I existed. Did he?

“I don’t know. Like I said, child, he told me it was a secret between him and his mother. He wouldn’t even tell me and he told me
everything
.”

“What happened next?”

“Well, he started begging me to help him leave. I told him no way. I wasn’t risking my job just so he could follow some delusional whim. But he kept at it. Every day. ‘Gregory, help me. Please.’ He just wouldn’t stop. He told me this place was slowly killing his spirit. Said he had a mission to complete and he couldn’t do it from here. He said his mother needed him.”

“So how did he escape?”

Gregory hung his head and as soon as he did, I knew. Gregory had helped him. “I felt bad for him. I always had. Brian was such a nice guy. It wasn’t his fault he was sick. And the bad things he did, that wasn’t really him. That was his illness. So eventually, I caved. I agreed to help him leave.”

“How did you get past the guards and security?”

“I’m getting to that,” he said, but not unkindly. “Anyway, I tried to think of a way to slip him out without being noticed. Then it hit me. There’s a door on the side of the building, near the cafeteria. We don’t post guards at every door. Instead, we use these swipe cards.” Gregory reached down into the shirt of his scrubs, produced a thick plastic card which hung from a lanyard, and held it up for me to see. “All the staff members have one. If we swipe the card on the little box, the doors open up. And I also knew there was only about half staff in the evenings. We don’t check the patient’s rooms every night like they do in jail. This is a low-security facility, not a prison, child. So one night, about an hour after lights out, I swiped my card and Brian slipped out the back door, never to be seen again.”

“How did you not get in trouble?”

“Because no one would ever suspect me. I’m one of the best nurses in this place. Other people had heard Brian obsessing over leaving and so they just figured he’d managed to climb out through the ventilation system or something like that. Then, the powers that be, mainly Dr. Detweiler, decided that rather than admit to losing a patient, they’d fudge the paperwork a bit and make it look like we voluntarily released him. Said he had ‘reached maximum rehabilitation potential.’” He used air quotes as he spoke the last few words. His face showed he thought it was utter bullshit.

“Wow,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “So do you really think he went to Kentucky?”

“Oh, I’m sure of it. It’s all he talked about those last few weeks.”

“Gregory, can you think of anything at all that would tell me where to find him? What city he went to?”

Gregory seemed to ponder this dramatically. He even tapped his temple with his finger and hummed. “You know, now that you mention it…he did say something about a house out in the country. Said his mother had arranged for him to stay there. I don’t remember the name of the city, but I do remember the name of the road. He kept going on and on about Jack or John, River or Creek….”

It was impossible. There was no way he was that close. “Was it Jacks Creek in Richmond by any chance?”

“Jacks Creek! That’s it! Why? You know where that is?”

“Yes, I do. It’s in Richmond, where my mom lives. And you’re sure he said his mother set this up for him?”

“Absolutely. It’s all he talked about toward the end—this supposed visit from his mother in the middle of the night, the ‘plan’ to move to Kentucky, and then something else he would never tell me, some secret he said was between him and his mother.”

“Thank you, Gregory,” I said as I stood up from the table. “You’ve been such a big help.”

He stood too, and faced me. “You promised you wouldn’t tell the doc about what I did.”

“And I won’t. He’ll never hear it from me. I promise.”

“Thank you. I was only trying to help. He seemed so desperate to get out of here. I felt compelled to help him out. I hope I didn’t do something very bad.”

“Let’s just hope he’s okay,” I said. I couldn’t sugarcoat the fact that Gregory, while he had good intentions, had released a schizophrenic man out into the world without medication to follow some delusional ‘plan’ on the orders of his crazy mother, who might or might not have visited him in person. But he was my brother. Even though I had never met him, I felt an intense desire to protect him—from the world and from himself. It was more important than ever that I find him.

The whole way home, I racked my brain for ways to find out exactly where Brian was. If he was on Jacks Creek, that was a very long road way out in the country. And if I hadn’t already found his name in the county clerk’s records, it meant he was renting the house from somebody. There are no records kept of who rents which house in any database. But how on earth was I going to figure out who he was renting from?

It finally occurred to me right as I was pulling into my driveway on West Chestnut Street. Detective Webster was my only hope. It was time to solicit his help. I was in over my head now, especially now that someone else had been killed and I didn’t see any way to go any further without his help. But it was almost nine o’clock when I got home, so I decided I’d call him the next morning.

***

The warm rays of the sun shining through my window woke me up around seven a.m. I padded into the kitchen, where my purse was lying on the kitchen counter, and retrieved Detective Webster’s card from my wallet. I dialed his number on my cell phone and he answered on the third ring.

“Detective Webster,” he said in a charming but professional voice.

“Detective Webster, hi, this is Libby Carter. We spoke the other day about Joanna Baker.”

“Oh, yeah. Hi there, Libby. How are you? How’s your investigation going?”

“It’s going. Hey, listen. I’ve learned some things since you and I last spoke and I’d like to run some ideas by you, if you don’t mind.”