Page 37 of No Quarter

“That was a close one,” Charlie said as he started the engine.

“I’m just glad we were able to help,” Valerie said.

“Yes,” Doctor Whitmore said. “You’ve saved me from a very wet and cold night.”

The group drove in silence for a moment, the rain still pounding against the windows. Valerie looked out at the shadowy trees, their gnarled branches reaching out like grasping hands. She felt uneasy and ill at ease, as if Elmwood itself was trying to push her away.

But she pushed those fears aside. After all, she was here to help others. She was there to catch a killer, and so far, his victims had a connection to the place.

Charlie kept driving, the car winding between the trees toward the retreat. To Valerie, it felt as though the elements were conspiring against them. That they could be snuffed out by the dark and the water, just like the killer had strangled the life from his victims.

“Might I ask,” the doctor said, still dripping of rain in the back seat next to Will. “Why have you come back to Elmwood tonight?”

“I’m sorry to tell you,” Will said from beside him. “But we’ve linked one of your security guards to the two victims.”

“Patrick Ives, know much about him?” Charlie asked.

“Patrick?” the Doctor sounded surprised. “He’s been with us for years. I can’t believe it.”

“We don’t know that he’s the killer,” Valerie said. “But we do know that he’s been inappropriate with at least two patients of yours. Now they’re dead. It could be a coincidence. Either way, he’s in custody, and we wanted to chat with you and some of the other staff about him.”

“I see,” Doctor Whitmore said. “I’ll have him suspended immediately, and then if your accusations are true, I’ll make sure he never works in the psychiatric or therapeutic industries again.”

“Did you ever suspect that he was off?” Charlie asked.

“Maybe,” the doctor replied. “But hindsight is 20/20. It’s easy for me to think of a hundred things about the man now that these accusations have arisen.”

“What would you have said about Patrick Ives before tonight?” Will asked, always able to reframe the question to get where they needed to be.

“I’d have said that he was abrasive at times, but on the whole, he took his job seriously. I certainly wouldn’t have thought he was a killer or an abuser.”

Valerie looked out at Elmwood as the car drove closer, watching the trees swaying in the wind. She couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread, but she pushed forward anyway.

“You can use my space,” Doctor Whitmore offered, pointing to an empty parking space near the front door.

Charlie parked the car. The rain hadn’t eased at all. If anything, it had gotten worse.

“Last one in’s a rotten egg,” Will said, leaping from the car.

They all followed. Their footsteps sloshed through a thick layer of water on the ground. Up the steps, the doors beckoned as the wind howled from above.

And then they were inside. They were embraced by Elmwood. But in its welcoming lobby lights and pastoral colors, Valerie felt that its peaceful nature was about to come undone.

Another victim could be found at any moment, and she would bet her apartment on that victim having a connection to Elmwood itself.

“Is there someone we can talk to about Patrick Ives?” Valerie asked the doctor.

“Of course,” he replied. “I’ll take you to meet with our head of security.”

The group made their way to the security guard’s office, which was located in a small alcove near the main entrance. The security guard on duty, a heavyset man in his early fifties, cast a suspicious eye on them as they approached.

“Davidson,” Doctor Whitmore said. “These are some colleagues from the FBI. They want to ask a couple of questions if that’s okay?”

“Of course, Doctor Whitmore. How can I help you?” he asked gruffly.

“We’re here to talk to you about Patrick Ives,” Valerie said.

The man’s eyes narrowed. “What about him?”

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