One Dead Under the Cuckoo's Nest (22 page)

Although not a touchy-feely kinda gal, I reached out and rested my hand on Margaret's arm. “Please, Margaret. Come back for a minute. What did Vinny do?”

Slowly as if half asleep, she said, “He . . . took it all and my hand. The picture fell . . . ” She pulled free and touched against her heart.

I imagined she'd hidden her son's picture there securely in the pocket.

“Yes, go on.”

She let out a loud sigh. “I cried that I wanted to get the picture, but a nun was standing in the doorway and ordered him to get moving.”

Great! A nun!

“Which one?”

“There's only one doorway to the room, Pauline.”

Damn. Confusion was not what I wanted to hear. “No, Margaret. I mean what nun? What nun stood in the doorway the night they moved you and ordered Vinny to hurry?”

Suddenly the ward erupted into chaos. Several staff members hurried down the hallway. While trying to pull the info out of Margaret, I hadn't noticed that Doll Lady and one of the men in the red pj's had started a ruckus. They hollered at each other. Spike shouted for them to quiet down, and then the doll's head flew through the air, smacking one of the men in red pj's in the cheek and causing a huge welt. If it were December, the color would have been perfect with his outfit.

I quickly turned to Margaret. “Which nun? Which nun was there when you were moved?”

Sister Barbie came walking toward us, followed by Novitiate Lalli, Sister Liz, two other nuns whose names I didn't know and Nurse Lawson. Damn. Busted.

“Margaret, time for your meds,” the nurse said.

I grabbed Margaret's shoulder. “Which nun?” I whispered.

She looked from them to me and mumbled, “The tall one.”

I swung around. Except for Sister Liz, everyone else in black was about the same height.

Margaret had said the “tall” nun had been there the night Margaret was removed from her room, and up until now, I never realized how many tall nuns there were around here. Damn.

Not much to go on. But I did figure that whoever the nun was must have known something. Something like why Margaret had to be moved from this ward. Talking too much about not belonging here? Then again, if that were the case, she'd probably do the same on the new ward. What was the difference? And why was she moved back to the old ward?

I scurried back to my room before they somehow caught and medicated me. Had to keep a clear head since I was Jagger-less. My heart fluttered. More from safety concern than from the usual Jagger lust. I wondered if I'd made a mistake in not convincing him to join me.

I touched the taser bracelet. Okay, I had that security weapon and, as evidenced by Terry, it worked. Then a frightening thought struck. If it had killed Terry because of his being on a certain medication, wouldn't it do the same to just about
every
patient in here? Suddenly the taser bracelet wasn't such a good idea. I sure didn't want to kill anyone else. As a matter of fact, I'd have to be really careful when I got close to them.

Jagger would say stop thinking like a nurse—but it was in my blood. Once you are a nurse, you are a nurse all your life.

The bracelet could be dangerous to some sick patient who might threaten me. But if the suspects were members of the staff, as I thought, I wouldn't hesitate to incapacitate any one of them.

For several hours I practiced Jagger's moves, thinking they would be my best and safest defense. Luckily no one had come into my room. I hoped Sister Barbie had gotten too busy and had forgotten my medication. But as a nurse, I knew that wasn't possible. She'd be at my door soon, and I'd have to exercise my tongue in addition to the rest of my body, which, by the way, had been getting a super workout from the defense moves.

I flopped on the bed and wondered more about why they had moved Margaret back there—so soon after I'd mentioned it to Novitiate Lalli. Had Lalli said something to whomever was in on the fraud? Had she talked to whomever was in charge, and gotten them to let Margaret come back because I missed her and she thought it might help Margaret and I get better? Be well enough to leave?

Or had Novitiate Lalli gotten Margaret moved back to avoid any more of my snooping, my suspicions? Or to send me a message—that someone was in control?

Maybe she figured if Margaret came back, I wouldn't have to try and find out anything else. Margaret and I could commiserate together, and no one would believe us.

I shut my eyes and tried to think of what was the best, most logical answer.

“Medication time, Pauline,” Sister Barbie said, startling me.

My eyes flew open. I sprang into a sitting position. Yikes. My head spun inside. “Oh. Hey. Thanks.” Get ready for action, Ms. Tongue.

Directly behind Sister Barbie was, you guessed it, Novitiate Lalli with her flashlight in hand.

Okay, I told myself, you can do this. Jagger taught you well and you've done it before. So, I took the Green Demon, gave an insincere smile to both women and shoved it in my mouth. With the little maneuver going, I opened for the flashlight beam.

Sister Barbie sneezed, blowing a gust of warm air into my face.

My reflex was to instantly inhale on a gasp—and the pill shot down my throat.

I tried to cough it up and even hurried to the bathroom, saying I had to go, when I, in fact, planned to stick my finger down my throat until the pill came back.

Novitiate Lalli was fast on my heels. “Don't even think about spitting the medication back up, Pauline.”

I felt her staring at me and realized it was futile. She was either a real bitch or a damn good psych nursing student—or a criminal.

As I started to feel weak and sleepy, I went with the criminal part—merely out of principle.

The rain forest appeared in my hospital room once more. I tried to ignore it and think clearly, but the damn frogs or toads hopped about, making a racket with the other creatures.

My inclination was to lie there and watch the entertainment, but in the deepest recesses of my mind, I knew I had to keep my wits about me, no matter how drugged I was.

Lives were at stake, and some were already snuffed out.

It wasn't easy to fight the sleep that had my eyelids weighing a gazillion tons and threatening to shut at any second. I told myself to get up, do some exercises, fight the Green Demon, but my body felt as if I'd just gotten a spinal gone bad. Felt as if it had paralyzed my entire body. No extremity would cooperate and move.

The nuns, as far as my foggy brain could remember, had partially shut the door when they'd left. I figured they thought I'd fall asleep and not cause any trouble. Suddenly, it started to open.

I could only lie there and watch.

Amid the greenery of the rain forest, the frogs jumping and butterflies the size of fighter jets flying about, a figure walked in once again.

I lay in my bed, watching the figure, which was carrying something, move about my room. Talk about déjà vu. Geez. There really was no privacy in this place.

But this time I refused to give in to the confusion that the drug tried to shroud my mind with. No easy feat, but I knew that when I took a Sine-off for my hay fever and lay down, I'd fall asleep, and if I kept active, I wouldn't feel the drowsiness. At least I was able to remember stuff like that. I thought that my battle with the Green Demon was working. I was winning. I sucked in some air and struggled with my brain, screaming to stay focused and also screaming to my limbs to move.

My left leg lifted into the air. I wasn't sure if that's what I had planned it to do, but at least it was a start.

The figure opened the top drawer and started to poke around.

Not again! How many times was I going to have to rearrange my undies?

Good. I was thinking. Getting perturbed. My arms moved to the side, and I grabbed onto the railing that was down but close enough to the mattress so that I could reach it and sit up . . . very quietly. I swatted away a butterfly and stood up on shaky legs. Kicking away three frogs, I slid my feet along the floor, all the while holding on so I wouldn't collapse into the greenery of ferns.

Getting close enough, I reached out to grab the figure but had misjudged the distance. Damn the Green Demon.

The figure spun around. I couldn't see who it was—only that it was dressed all in black. Before I could reach it, a long object swung out, smacking me right in the forehead.

Then I realized the supposedly lush green of the rain forest ground was as hard as the linoleum of my room.

“Pauline? Pauline?”

Pain shot up my spine while I listened to the voice. Sounded familiar. Female. Hmm. Not sure who it was, but I was sure that I didn't care. My body ached too damn much!

After the voice called my name a few more times and kept asking if I was all right, I opened my eyes to find myself lying on my back. The figure that stood above me was rather cloudy-looking but did, in fact, look familiar.

My vision started to clear. “Oh, hey. How are you, Margaret?”

She looked concerned. I ran my hand along the back of my head, half expecting some sticky, bloody mess, since now I remembered landing on my back on the floor.

Guess the good old lessons I was taught in high-school basketball had paid off. Ms. Franklin, the gym teacher, had always said to hold our head up when we fell.

Margaret touched my arm, and I recognized that I was in my bed. No rain forest scenery. My mind, despite the pain, was much clearer.

“They drugged me again, Margaret,” I moaned. “How . . . what are you doing here?”

She sat on the edge of the bed and ran a damp facecloth over my forehead. Actually felt nice, comforting. “I found you on the floor. You must have slipped when trying to go to the bathroom. I started to call for help, but you grabbed my arm and insisted I didn't so I helped you into bed instead.”

Hmm. I didn't remember that part, but felt damn good that my drug-induced self had the foresight not to report this to the staff. “Oh, right. Yeah. You shouldn't be in here though. But thanks for helping me.”

She looked me straight in the eye. “You didn't fall, Pauline. Did you?”

I gently patted her arm and sat up despite a tornado of pain slamming into my back. “What did you see? Anyone? In black?”

She shook her head. “You were only on the floor. No one was around. No nuns.”

“In the hallway. Did you see—” I winced and decided to ease myself down. “Ouch. Did you see anyone in the hallway? Think.”

“There were lots of people. The staff, patients. It's lunchtime, so everyone was walking toward the dining room.”

“Oh, great. No one with a . . . broom?”

The scary thought hit me.

The attacker had smacked me with a broom. The metal handle part. Just like the one that had been stabbed into Vito and like the one found in my bathroom.

Margaret shook her head. “No, Pauline. No one—”

She paused. “Wait a minute. I saw someone sweeping the hallway when I came to get you.”

I sat upright and grabbed her by the shoulders despite my muscles shouting at me. “You did? You saw someone with a broom?”

“Or a mop. Not sure. Why is that so important?”

“I . . . that's what they hit me with.” I reached up to my forehead and pushed the hair to the side. Ouch! An egg-sized bump sat on my forehead above my left eyebrow. Thank goodness my Polish skin must be thick, since the force didn't split it open—only knocked me over. And good thing my bangs hid the bump so the staff wouldn't notice.

If there weren't so many people and commotion out in the hallway, maybe the broom handle would have been stuck into . . .

I couldn't go there. Not productive to my working this case. I asked Margaret a few more questions, but unfortunately her medication still had her a bit up in the clouds. She was now certain the person sweeping was a janitor named Bob, and she really hadn't seen anything else. Damn. Janitors wore brown. A chocolate shade that couldn't be confused with black like the nuns wore. Besides, the nuns wore habits, not pants. If Margaret was remembering correctly, that wasn't of any use to me.

But I might be dead right now if it weren't lunchtime.

After I washed up a bit and splashed enough cool water onto my face to at least reverse some of the effects of the Green Demon, Margaret and I headed to lunch.

The dining room was in its usual chaotic, chatty state. No one looked suspicious and no one had on all black like the intruder had worn. Besides, many of the patients looked as if they belonged here.

Margaret and I got our sandwiches on white bread—no health-conscious nutritionists in the bunch—and headed to find seats.

“Over here,” Jackie Dee called out.

Margaret and I looked at each other. I felt sorry for Jackie but really didn't enjoy my meals when I sat with her. Actually, that's why I never sat with her. Still, she seemed like a nice girl, even though she must have had some whopper of a problem to eat her own hair. Jackie called out a few more times since very few patients ever wanted to sit near her at meals. “It's fine with me,” I said to Margaret.

We headed to sit near Jackie Dee.

Margaret settled on the opposite side of the table, with me next to Jackie. I figured if she snatched a strand of blonde, I could stare at Margaret while I finished my lunch. Actually, my body hurt from the fall, so I really didn't have much of an appetite. I took my cold drink of water and held the plastic cup to my forehead.

Jackie stared at me.

Oh, boy. She probably figured that my gesture had something to do with eating silken locks. I turned to her. “Sinus headache today. Say, Jackie Dee, your room is across from mine. Did you see anyone come out of it, oh, a little while before lunch?”

She shook her head.

“Then did you see anyone come out of my room all day? Even just in the morning? Maybe one of the staff? In black. One of the nuns, I mean.”