Gray's Domain: Purgatorium Series, Book Two (21 page)

Daphne had nearly drifted off to sleep again, when Brock cleared his throat and said, “Listen, I’m starved. Mind if I go grab a bite to eat?”

“Of course not.”

He kissed her once more and left the room.

He hadn’t been gone long when Daphne got a crazy idea. Using the fingertips of her right hand, she pulled the IV port from her left, climbed from the bed, and peeked behind the door. No one was sitting at the reception desk, so she slipped across the waiting room and down the hall toward the office of Hortense Gray.

She knocked twice, and when no one answered, she tried the knob. It wasn’t locked.

The lights were on and the chaos was as she remembered it—books, art, the loom, and the record player all crammed and scattered without order. A bunch of flowers—have of them wilted—spread out unevenly from a tumbler-turned-vase. It suddenly occurred to Daphne how ironic it was that the doctor’s office was so out of control.

Daphne crossed the room to the surveillance room. When she opened the door, she was startled to see Lee Reynolds sitting behind his desk.

“Ah, I was expecting you,” he said. “It’s alright. Come in and have a seat.” He pointed to the desk on the opposite side of the square room near the door to Mary Ellen’s office.

Daphne was flabbergasted. “What do you mean you were expecting me?”

“Dr. Gray thought you might be coming by. She wanted to be here herself, but she’s gone to the Mainland to see about Giovanni.”

Daphne sat at Mary Ellen’s desk and scoured over the monitors for some sign of her family. She spotted them walking along a trail she didn’t recognize—her father on crutches with a cast on his lower leg. She was shocked by how good Joey looked. His usual buzz haircut had grown out, his dark hair nearly reaching his eyes, and his usually emotionless face seemed more relaxed. He was talking, but without the headphones, she couldn’t hear what he was saying.

“Where are they? What are they doing?” She picked up the headphones on Mary Ellen’s desk, anxious to put them on.

“They are headed to a little cabin on the southwest side of the island,” Lee said. “I’ll tell you all about it in a minute. There’s something else Dr. Gray wanted me to show you—footage that was taken shortly after Joey arrived.”

Dr. Reynolds motioned to her to put on the headphones. Then he pointed to the monitor closest to her. “Watch there.”

The monitor went blank for a few seconds. Then Joey appeared. He was sitting at the same desk as Daphne. The camera came from the corner over Lee’s desk. Daphne glanced above him and saw the camera was trained on her. Back on the monitor, Hortense’s voice came over the headphones saying, “State your full name, please.”

Joey looked like he had when Daphne had last seen him: expressionless face, pale skin, and empty eyes. “Joseph Christopher Janus.”

“How old are you?” Hortense asked.

“Do you want that in light years or human years?” Joey asked.

“Human, please.”

“Approximately thirteen billion, eight million, two-hundred thousand, five-hundred and sixty-two years old,” he said with a stern face.

“How many years has it been since you were born to the Janus family?” Hortense asked.

“Are you referring to my most recent birth?
Or the very first one?”

“Most recent.”

Joey shook his head. “Are you with the CIA?”

“I am your new doctor, remember?”

“How do I know I can trust you? We’re under surveillance, aren’t we?” His eyes swept up to the camera.

He suddenly looked terrified.

“I told the last operative that I can’t get involved.” Joey stood up and waved his arms in the room. “This interview is over! This interview is over! Let me out of here!”

The monitor went blank.

Dr. Reynolds said, “That footage was taken his first day on the island. Now watch this next clip, taken five days later.”

Dr. Gray and Joey returned to the screen, sitting in the same places they had been sitting in the previous interview. Joey had a tan and his hair was slightly longer—reaching his eyes. They seemed less empty and more relaxed. Daphne’s mouth dropped open. How was this possible?

Dr. Gray pointed to the very same monitor Daphne was looking at now. “Take a look, Joey. I’d like to know your opinion about this.”

The camera zoomed in on the monitor, which showed Emma sitting across from Dr. Gray with a desk between them. It might have been the office next door—Daphne couldn’t tell. Emma was crying.

“Tell me again how it happened, Emma,” Dr. Gray’s authoritative voice came over the headphones.

“Lisa had her Barbie’s boots on the wrong feet,” Emma said, sniffling.

“Remind me how old you were,” Dr. Gray said.

“I was five. Lisa was four. Our mother was helping us across the street to the bus stop. I don’t know why it bothered me so much that the Barbie’s boots were on the wrong feet, but it did, and it made me angry that Lisa wouldn’t let me fix them.”

“So what happened?” Dr. Gray asked.

“While we were crossing the street, I reached behind my mom and grabbed the Barbie from Lisa. I grabbed her by the boot, and the Barbie fell in the street. We had just reached the bus stop when Lisa saw the Barbie and ran to get her.” Emma broke down crying.

“Then what happened?” Dr. Gray asked.

“You know what happened!” Emma shouted. “Why do I have to say it?”

“Because it helps,” Dr. Gray said. “Trust me and go on. What happened next?”

“The car hit her,” Emma said, racked with sobs. “The car hit and killed Lisa, and it was my fault.”

The camera returned to Joey, who sat emotionless behind Mary Ellen’s desk.

“Do you see a similarity in Emma’s experience to the one you had with your grandfather?”

“No,” Joey said.

“No?” Dr. Gray echoed. “You can’t see how what happened to Emma’s sister cannot be blamed on Emma? She was a child. She was doing what children do. It was a tragic accident, just like what happened to your grandfather
was an accident and not your fault.”

“But the CIA told me to electrocute my grandfather,” Joey explained. “They said he was a threat to
national security. I was just doing my duty. That’s quite different from what happened to that girl on the screen.”

Daphne looked across the room at Dr. Reynolds, but he continued to watch the monitor, so she returned her eyes to it.

“Don’t you see that your brain has created this elaborate defense mechanism to handle the guilt you feel over your grandfather’s death? It’s easier to believe that you were working for the CIA...”

“I
was
working for the CIA,” Joey demanded. “My good friend Judge William Clark can verify that. Call him.”

“Watch the screen, Joey,” Dr. Gray said.

Daphne asked Dr. Reynolds, “Was Emma acting in that video?”

“No,” Lee said. “That’s what really happened to her sister.”

The camera zoomed in on the monitor, and now Kelly, the horse guide, sat behind the desk from Hortense.

“Tell me again what happened the night your son died,” Hortense said.

“Do I really have to go through this with you again?” Kelly complained.

“Yes, please.
Once more. Two years ago…”

“We were all in bed asleep. I heard footsteps and realized Nathan had gone downstairs. I listened for him to return. I was about to go check on him, when I heard him
climb back up to his room. I knew he had gone down for some water and was proud that he could finally do it all by himself.”

“How old was he?” Dr. Gray asked.

“Three and a half,” Kelly said with a frown. “My baby was three and a half years old.”

“Go on,” Dr. Gray said. “What happened next?”

“I had fallen asleep when I was startled awake by a noise. I heard it again but couldn’t tell what it was. I thought maybe a tree was hitting the roof.” Kelly broke into tears. “It was Nathan kicking the wall! I should have gotten up! If only I would have gotten out of bed and checked!”

Daphne grabbed her stomach, feeling sick and dizzy.

“You couldn’t have known,” Hortense said. “Please, tell me what happened next.”

“I fell back asleep,” Kelly said. “And in the morning we found Nathan hanging between the slats of the top bunk. He had taken the ladder from his closet. We hadn’t put a mattress on the top bunk. He had fallen through the slats to his neck and had been hanging there until he…We had told him not to play up there. Why didn’t I put the ladder in the attic or somewhere he couldn’t get to? Oh, God!
My poor baby!” Kelly covered her mouth and the camera returned to Joey, whose usually expressionless face wore a frown.

“What do you think of that case?” Hortense asked him.

“It’s sad,” Joey said.

“It reminds me of what happened to your sister,” Dr. Gray added.

“Except the CIA told me to kill the imposter inside of my sister,” Joey said. “Kara wasn’t supposed to die—just the imposter who had taken over her body.” Joey’s lips trembled. “It wasn’t supposed to happen that way. The CIA had promised me that Kara wouldn’t get hurt.”

“It was a tragic accident,” Dr. Gray said.
“Caused by your untreated mental illness.”

“That’s what
all
the doctor’s say,” he said.

“But here’s another thing I want you to know,” Hortense added. “You haven’t been getting the right treatment in Houston.”

“I haven’t?”

“No, sir.”

“I
knew
it.”

“The schizophrenia was brought on by the post-traumatic stress disorder,” Hortense explained. “You’ve been taking medication for schizophrenia, but you haven’t received proper treatment for PTSD.”

“Where does the CIA fit into this theory?” Joey asked.

“Your brain created the CIA in a desperate attempt to protect itself.”

“That’s bull. I’ve heard it before.”

“With PTSD, your brain gets stuck in a highly intense fight-or-flight mode, brought on by fear. In the wake of a traumatic event, a PTSD victim can’t break out of fight-or-flight properly. Your brain, in that intense state of arousal, sought an explanation, and it came up with a reasonable one: a group with power made you its puppet. That helped explain why things happened outside of your control. It was easier than accepting your own helplessness. The rest of your family suffers from the same syndrome.”

“But they’ve never mentioned the CIA to me.”

“No. They dealt with their illness in different ways. Your father and your sister attempted suicide.”

Daphne’s head snapped up. Was that true about her father?

“All the doctors tell me that the CIA never gave me orders, but you’re the first one to explain why I might think they would.”

“That’s because no one attempted to treat the PTSD. And you wouldn’t have been open to my suggestions if I hadn’t shared these other stories with you, so you could see the similarities. Also, I’ve changed your medications so that you are more cognizant and less numb to your surroundings. You’ve also been on a gluten-free diet since your arrival. Have you noticed the change?”

“I think so.”

“Remember the blood work I did on you on your first day here?”

Joey nodded. “I thought you were inserting a tracker.”

“I tested your blood for food allergies. You’re allergic to wheat. Did you know that?”

Joey shook his head.

“You feel better, don’t you?”

“Yes, doctor. I really do.”

The monitor went blank. Daphne looked across the room at Dr. Reynolds, who took off his headphones. She did the same.

“Was that true about my dad?” she asked the doctor.

“Yes. I’m sorry you had to hear about it like this.”

“When?”

“I honestly don’t know all the details.”

“I don’t believe you.”

He sighed. “You have to remember that Kara’s death compounded the PTSD he was already suffering from since the Gulf War.”

“What did he do? And when?”

“He tried to overdose with a combination of pills. Your mother found him in time.”

“When?”

“I believe it was on the one-year anniversary of Kara’s death.”

Daphne’s lips trembled uncontrollably. That must have been so hard on her poor mother.
Her father in April, and then, on New Year’s Eve of the same year, Daphne. How had her mother held it together?

“So what’s happening to my family now?” Daphne searched the monitors for signs of them.

“There’s still one more tape Dr. Gray wants you to see before I explain what’s about to happen tonight. Take a look.”

Daphne turned to the screen closest to her once more and watched with the headphones back on her head. She was surprised to see Joey on a small aluminum boat with her parents. They were tied to the pier at Willows Anchorage, where Captain Jim had met them in his catamaran for the sunset cruise. They each had a rod and reel in their hands.