One Dead Under the Cuckoo's Nest (28 page)

“I . . . what are you doing?” Jagger followed my gaze as it bounced off the floor, walls and door. “Did you drop something?”

“No, I didn't drop something. You knocked the
evidence
out of my hand!”

“Evidence?”

There it sat on Jagger's shoe. “Don't move.” I bent down and grabbed the straw and then held it out toward him. “This evidence.”

“Where'd you find it?”

“I didn't find it. It found me.” I waved the straw a bit as if that would give my words more punch. More credibility.

“Sherlock, where did you get it?”

“I fell asleep in the dayroom—”

He grabbed my arm, pulled me through the doors near the window. “You fell asleep in the dayroom? Do you know how dangerous that can be for you?”

I do now.

“Someone dropped it near you?” Jagger asked.

I was annoyed that he figured that out, but nodded. “It was on my lap. When I got up it fell. Sister Liz said Spike was near me earlier.”

“While you slept. He could have stuck a syringe into you.”

I shuddered, remembering Vito in the airport. “Let's forget that and go on.”

Jagger took my arm. “I'll go on, but I won't forget. You have to be more careful, Pauline. Start thinking like an investigator all the time and not like a nurse . . . or a patient.”

“I resent that.”

“You are a nurse,” he said, and then grinned.

“Did you talk to Mary Louise?”

He shook his head. “She was asleep.”

“I thought you said she wasn't of use to us.”

He merely looked at me. Oh, well, it didn't matter. “Let's go see if she woke up since you left her. Maybe she knows more about Spike. If she'd seen her brother with him or someone else. We might luck out.” Still holding my arm, he turned me toward Room 201.

I smiled to myself.

I'd done well again. I knew it, since Jagger hadn't shaken his head. At the door, we stopped, looked around and eased it farther open.

A night-light burned in the bathroom, and I figured that was so the nurses could check on Mary Louise without waking her. The room lay silent. No radio on tonight. Jagger led us closer, but his body blocked what little light there was.

I could barely see Mary Louise, but she looked as if she was still on her back with her hands shackled to the side rails and the chest restraint on. Mary Louise lay very still.

Damn
, I thought,
no info from her tonight.

When Jagger shifted, I could see the restraint was too high on her chest. I reached out to pull it down.

Jagger grabbed my hand.

“Don't. Don't touch her.” Then he pulled me closer. “Damn it,” he whispered.

Figuring he was thinking the same thing I had been, I started to nod. “We shouldn't wake her even if we won't get any more info tonight.” Then I looked down.

Her eyelids never fluttered. She had to be heavily sedated. I tried that squinting thing to better see if her chest was moving up and down without being constricted. I looked closer. Then, I grabbed Jagger's arm.

Mary Louise Huntington was dead.

Mary Louise had been strangled by the restraints . . . or at least made to look as if she was.

After Jagger had gotten me back to my room and notified the staff about Mary Louise, he came to see me.

I jumped when he walked in the door.

“Maybe it was an accident?” I said quickly.

He looked at me.

“No. Really, I remember reading an article in
The Hartford Courant.
Yes, now I remember. It was years ago. About the number of patients who died while restrained. Accidentally. Over one hundred fifty. She . . . Mary Louise looked as if she might have tried to get up and the . . . the restraint tightened on her neck.”

“Then why didn't she pull back? Give herself some breathing room? Call for help?”

Damn. Good question.

“Maybe she was too medicated. Did she look as if she had tried to move? To pull back?” I hadn't studied her since Jagger'd whisked me out of the room so fast. I guess he figured it was too late to try and save her so no sense in us getting caught in there.

Jagger sat on the foot of my bed. “No.”

I desperately wanted a “yes.” I wanted to know that it was a horrible accident, and not
someone
, that had killed Mary Louise.

Someone who also killed Vito and left his calling card on my lap tonight.

“Do you think Spike did it?”

Jagger shrugged. “He could have.”

I held my covers tightly as if that would protect and comfort me. It didn't work. “Well, then we need to—”

“But even if he did, why did he? Spike is not the ringleader, working this scam alone.”

I wanted to ask how he knew, but Jagger just knew those kinds of things. Agreeing with him, I nodded. “He's not smart enough to orchestrate something so huge and on such a large scale that it reaches out as far as New Orleans.”

Jagger smiled.

I eased up on my sheets.

Jagger got up. “We could have a big day ahead of us tomorrow. Get some sleep.” He touched my face and pushed back a strand of hair.

The little gesture was almost as good as a kiss . . . almost.

Ever the mysterious Jagger, he pulled an object out of his pocket. The dim light caught it—something small in the palm of his hand. He held it out toward me. “For emergencies only. Patients can't get it.”

A key. I took it. A key to get me out of here if I needed it. How very Jagger-like.

Thank goodness.

He left without a word. There was no point in thanking him. To Jagger this was all business as usual.

After he left I lay in my bed thinking about Terry, Spike and Mary Louise. Yeah, Jagger was right. They were all just pieces of the puzzle—with the end pieces that bordered it still missing.

There had to be someone in the hospital running the scam. Someone who had started it and was keeping it a secret. Surely all the staff didn't know that these patients were really not patients.

But who did?

At breakfast the next morning, I avoided Joanna, who was feeding cereal to Barbie the doll. Good thing it didn't have milk on it. Maybe Joanna wasn't as bad off as she appeared. Then she started talking to Barbie. I took that thought back.

Mason came up next to me with his tray. “May I?”

I nodded. “How are you doing?”

A sadness covered his face and I touched his hand.

“Horrible.”

“I hear you.” If anyone knew what it was like to belocked up here when they didn't belong, that would be me. I nonchalantly touched the key Jagger had given me inside my outfit. I'd finagled a piece of tape from Sister Liz. “Hopefully it won't be much longer.”

His eyes brightened. “You know something? Did you find out something?”

Sister Barbie Doll appeared in the doorway. This time her flashlight-wielding shadow was Nurse Lawson. Novitiate Lalli must be off today. Good. They approached the table and gave Joanna a handful of pills. Red ones. A green one. The Green Demon. She swallowed them as if starving. No need for the flashlight with her.

“Good morning, Pauline,” Sister Barbie said.

I smiled. “Hi.”

She went past me and gave Callie Jo her medication. Then the nun and nurse made their way down the table. I leaned next to Mason. “If you can, hide the pill under your tongue, but make a gulping sound so they think you swallowed it.”

He looked at me as if I were brilliant.

“We need clear heads around here.” I looked over to see Margaret swallowing. Damn. Still, I couldn't blame her. I actually think she took the medication to escape this place even if only while she slept. Margaret would be out of commission for hours. I wished I'd gotten to talk to her about Spike first.

“Good morning, Mason,” Sister Barbie said. She smiled at him.

I thought that was a good sign. Maybe the nun would be less likely to suspect he wouldn't take the medication. After all, she and Nurse Lawson thought he was a real patient.

A page came over the intercom. “Sister Barbara Immaculatta to the nurse's station STAT.”

STAT. Wonderful. Thank goodness I knew the familiar medical term for “immediately.”

“Here, Pauline,” she shoved the pill at me, and she and Nurse Lawson hurried out.

It must have been about Mary Louise.

I stuck the pill in the pocket of my robe and turned toward Mason. “Did you—”

He was wiping the napkin across his lips and the pill landed in the crease.

“Perfect,” I said and winked at him.

We ate in silence so that no one near us would hear anything that we said. I knew I could no longer trust anyone around here. It pained me to think that way about Sister Liz, but I had to be very careful.

Mason and I put our trays on the conveyor belt and waited to hear Sister Janet say that all the sharps were accounted for.

We stood by the wall and watched the staff in the kitchen counting. Margaret sat very still. I motioned for Mason to follow and we walked over to her and sat for a few minutes.

“Hey, Margaret.”

She gave a faint smile and nod.

“We are getting closer. Hang in there. You go rest and think of Kyle—”

“There's a knife missing,” Sister Janet called out.

Damn it!

Now what? This was the first time we couldn't leave, and I had so much to do. Hopefully Jagger was out there finding
something
out.

“Everyone line up by the door,” Sister Janet called.

Then, I looked up in horror as the staff proceeded to frisk all the patients. I ran my hand to my robe and felt my pill in the pocket. Shoot! I sure didn't want to take it, and if I tried to throw it out before they got to me, some patient might find it and be harmed if they ate it.

My head started to pound. This place was getting worse and worse. I should have shoved the pill in a napkin and threw it away like Mason. “You go in front of me,” I said to him.

He gave me an odd look but appeared to trust me enough not to say anything. I stood there trying to think, when suddenly, Barbie—the plastic doll, that is—smacked me in the head!

“Ouch!”

Everyone turned around again.

“Sorry. She bumped into me. Joanna that is,” I lied in my defense.

Joanna gave me a wicked smile, then shook the doll at me. I pretended to be scared so she'd leave me alone while I thought.

“Next,” Nurse Lindeman said.

Mason moved up, was checked and released to go.

I only had Joanna the nutty Doll Lady between cold wet sheets and me. For a few seconds I thought of pretending that I was sick, but that would ruin the rest of my day and maybe I wouldn't get to investigate. They might send me to my bed and put me on constant watch. I moved forward as if going to the gallows.

Joanna fussed when Nurse Lindeman took her doll. Just as she did, a clatter sounded. We all looked down to see the knife, which had fallen out of Barbie's nurse's whites.

“All clear,” Nurse Lindeman shouted.

I sighed so loudly, Joanna swung around. “You touch my baby and I'll cut you!”

Yikes!

They whisked Joanna of f—maybe for a few ECT jolts of sanity.

As if I didn't have enough on my plate to worry about, now I had to hope that Doll Lady Joanna didn't whack me one with stolen cutlery.

Thank goodness the staff had taken her away. I assumed she'd be heavily medicated or get shock treatment. I was glad that Jagger had changed the routine order on my chart for having shock treatment, too. One less thing to worry about.

I motioned for Mason to follow me, and soon we were seated near the window of the dayroom without the TV. Two of the men in red pajamas were sleeping on the couch. The new lady, Kathy, was also sleeping in the chair by the entrance. Good. No one to snoop. No interruptions.

I turned to Mason. “I wish Margaret could be here.”

He nodded. “But it seems as if we are onto something, with what she and I have already talked about.”

I nodded.

Mason shifted, moving himself closer.

Our hips touched—and I
noticed.
This was not a good sign. After all, there was Jagger and his kiss. I thought for a moment and told myself I was being crazy. Jagger's kiss certainly meant more to me than it did to him. I was out of my league with him. Actually, all women were out of their league with Jagger.

But sometimes it felt good to end up in left field, even if only for a few seconds.

“Pauline, I'm still not clear as to why you are here,” Mason said, moving just a wee bit closer.

I didn't budge, but for some stupid reason, did look up to see if Dr. Dick was in sight. The only person walking in the hallway was one of the red pajama men. That was good, I thought. He was getting some exercise. I couldn't tell Mason about my job, so I took a page out of Jagger's book. “I work for someone. We need to find out more about this fraud ring. That's all I can say.” I gave him a gigantic smile as if that would prevent him from asking any more questions.

He smiled back and leaned near. With one finger, he brushed the hair away from my eye. “I could not resist. Sorry.”

Making my heart do a jig was nothing to be sorry for. “I'm . . . no problem.” I took a deep breath to clear my head and forget, for a few minutes, that I was a woman and he was a man . . . all man. “Mason, do you . . . Can you think of anything else that might help us? We seem to have lots on Spike, but that's it. Do you remember if he spoke to anyone, maybe on his cell phone while he was driving?”

Mason leaned back, yawned and had his arm around me in a heartbeat. Smooth. Very smooth and not even sophomoric like two kids in a movie theater. Maybe his French accent helped to make any move that he made seem charming.

“My mind is so cloudy since being here.”

I chuckled. “I hear you. It's as if the air in this place is filled with some mind-altering drugs. We're all a bit foggy. But think. Start with when Spike picked you up at the airport. Was he friendly?” I'd have a hard time believing he was, but then again, he seems to have some personal grudge against me.