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Deadly Institution
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Deadly Institution
Holly Copella
Copyright © 1998 Holly Copella
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 0986441643
ISBN-13: 978-09864416-4-6
In loving memory of
Kenny Apgar, Sr.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Copella Books – First Paperback Edition 2015
Cover Artist: Fantasyart
SelfPubBookCovers.com/Fantasyart
Printed by CreateSpace, An Amazon.com Company
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, character, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter One
11:00 P.M.
The little house sat on the quiet back street in the small town of Stony Ridge. The house itself was in desperate need of paint and the lawn needed a gardener’s touch. Despite the limited activity at the surrounding homes on the warm summer evening, there were several cars parked along the street before the little house. The dingy, crudely appointed basement den was filled with cigar smoke and contained old, worn furniture that had seen better days. Six men varying in age from their twenties to their sixties sat around the poker table and puffed on cigars. Bottles of beer and snacks cluttered the table. A large pot of plastic poker chips were piled in the center of the table. Three men remained in the current hand. Five of the men stared impatiently at the sixth man who held his cards and stared at his chips as he played with them. A stocky, African-American man in his early thirties, Deputy Monroe Carson, held his cards and chewed on his cigar while staring at the silent man across from him. Monroe was obviously losing patience with Konrad Asher. Asher was a distinguished looking man in his early thirties. His light brown hair was neatly trimmed, and he dressed with a fashionable business-like style. He seemed almost out of place with the other five, who dressed in jeans, flannel shirts, and were sporting a day’s worth of stubble on their faces.
“Are you going to make love to those cards, or are you going to play poker?” Monroe finally bellowed out.
Monroe was large and intimidating to behold, but he wasn’t nearly as imposing as he’d allow others to believe. If it weren’t for the growth of stubble on his chin, his boyish baby face would give him away. Asher again glanced at his cards with a solemn expression, despite the commotion of the five other men. He then lifted his head and looked at the men in the smoke-filled den. A tiny smile crossed his face as he fanned the cards together.
“I’ll raise another fifty cents,” Asher announced in a gentle, monotone voice.
“Too rich for me,” said the older man, Fred, who sat alongside Asher. He tossed his cards onto the table with a disgusted sigh.
Monroe removed the cigar from his mouth, chuckled lowly, and tossed in another fifty cents. “I’ll call your bluff,” he said firmly with a broad grin. He laid his cards on the table to reveal three queens. “Three of a kind. Beat that, sucker.”
Asher fanned out his cards and stared at the full house in his hand. He closed the hand, appeared humored, and tossed the cards face down on the table.
“You called my bluff,” Asher said simply.
Monroe laughed with a subtle arrogance and collected the pot of nearly five dollars. “You were just meant to lose tonight, my friend.”
Asher shrugged without care. “I’m having a good time,” he replied. “I suppose that’s what’s important.”
“And it’s best not to antagonize the law,” Fred remarked, nodded to Monroe with a smirk, and then drank the last of his beer.
Monroe laughed while stacking his chips. “I’m not on duty. If I was, I’d have to arrest us all,” he teased.
The others laughed.
“You wouldn’t even know how to make an arrest,” Fred remarked with a soft chuckle. “If it wasn’t for our local drunk and old Mrs. Skyler speeding, you’d have nothing to do all day. Nothing ever happens in this town.”
Monroe grinned in response and didn’t deny the comment. Derek Falcone, a much younger man in his mid-twenties, collected the cards and shuffled them while the other five tossed their ante into the pot on the center of the cluttered table. Derek was a classically handsome man, who easily reminded some of a high school football player with his tall frame and sturdy build.
“Maria said you and Katie were planning a cruise this fall,” Fred said to Asher.
“We’d hoped to, but one of the nurses quit last week,” Asher remarked while casually puffing on his cigar. “Dr. Talbert may be reluctant to allow her the time off.”
“A cruise, huh?” Derek remarked as he laughed lowly without looking up from the cards he was over shuffling. “Kate certainly has it good these days.”
Asher stared at the small stack of chips before him with little expression. He’d obviously heard the comment, but refused to acknowledge it. The four other men glared at Derek. Derek prepared to deal the cards, saw the looks he was receiving, and smiled innocently.
“What?” Derek asked with an unnatural laugh.
“Just stop it, okay,” Monroe scoffed and looked back at his healthy stack of chips.
Asher looked at Monroe and smiled lightly. “It’s okay, Monroe,” he informed him. “Derek has a tendency to dwell on the past when he’s drinking.”
Derek laughed as he violently dealt the cards. “What? You think I’m still jealous after all these years?” He snorted and grinned. “It doesn’t bother me one bit.”
There was an odd silence at the table. All five men watched Derek as he vigorously dealt the cards. Monroe folded his arms across his chest, chewed on his cigar, and raised a brow. All five waited for what was sure to follow.
“I mean,” Derek continued as he picked up his five cards. “I only dated Kate all through high school and college.”
There were several groans around the table. Asher just shook his head and frowned. They collected their cards and attempted to resume their game.
“Doesn’t bother me that he’s only in town for six months before stealing her away from me,” Derek sulked then looked at the others and attempted a smile that resembled a sneer.
“It’s been three years, man,” Monroe announced with a disgusted moan. “Let it go.”
Derek shrugged while staring at his cards. “Don’t know what you’re talking about. It doesn’t bother me,” he chirped. As he looked up, his smile twisted, giving him an almost psychotic look. “Girl knew I couldn’t provide the kind of lifestyle she wanted.”
>
Asher tossed his cards to the table and sat forward. He remained calm but was obviously disturbed. “Say what you wish about me, Derek. You can accuse me of seducing the only love of your life, if it makes you feel better, but don’t disrespect Katie. I won’t tolerate that sort of behavior.”
Derek laughed aloud. “Don’t act the role of her father. She’s already got one of those,” he muttered.
Asher looked up at the ceiling with a humored smile. “Ah, yes, I almost forgot the age thing.” He looked back and Derek and tilted his head. “I know where this is leading, Derek. I don’t want to fight you again. I take no pleasure in kicking your ass.”
Derek’s smile curled into a frown. He abruptly stood, knocking his chair to the floor. “Kate and I had it good until you came along with your expensive suit and philosophical attitude. You have no idea what it’s like having the woman you love taken from you!”
All five men watched Derek dart from the den. The front door slammed just moments after. The men looked at one another with little emotion.
“I’ll raise a quarter,” Monroe announced simply.
†
11:20 P.M.
The Stony Ridge Institution sat away from the road on a large parcel of land surrounded by tall, chain-link fencing and stone walls. The institution encompassed more than twenty acres of land and the grounds were painstakingly maintained. The building itself was a massive marvel of stone and concrete. Castle-like in appearance, it was an eerily imposing sight. There appeared to be lights on within every room, giving it a creepy glow. Outside lights brightened half the grounds. The institution was easily mistaken for a hospital. It actually was a hospital. The sign on the stone wall near the security guard’s building read, “Stony Ridge Mental Institution”. The building itself had once been a college, but the isolation of the town made it undesirable to college students. The town rejoiced the end to hordes of drunken college kids, but they got the surprise of their life once it was converted into an insane asylum. It was quite the culture shock to the small, conservative community.
A nurse hurried along the elegant hallway on the first floor of the east wing. Her long, red hair was pulled back in a French twist. Kate Asher was a beautiful woman in her mid-twenties, but tonight her face expressed what appeared to be anger or rage. Her strides were long and determined as she approached the nurse’s station. She entered the area cluttered with thick charts piled ten high along the massive desk. She stormed past another nurse seated at the desk behind the tall counter. The second nurse, Roseanne Pierce, looked up from her magazine and gazed after Kate with surprise. Roseanne was a youthful beauty in her own rights with long, wavy dark hair and an impressive figure that captured more than her share of male attention.
“You look pissed,” Roseanne said with a curious stare. “Did Dr. Talbert deny your vacation request? I swear he doesn’t want to see anyone happy.”
Kate didn’t respond to her comment. She removed her purse from her locker, stuffed an envelope in the front pocket, and returned the purse. She took two strides to the desk near Roseanne and snatched the phone from its cradle. Roseanne watched in silence as Kate punched a series of numbers into the phone. Kate was still a moment, though uncomfortable, and then slammed down the phone. She spun to face Roseanne and looked at her for the first time.
“I’m going to make my final rounds,” Kate said firmly. “Will you page me as soon as my husband arrives?”
Roseanne slowly nodded with her mouth partially opened. “Is everything okay?”
“No,” Kate retorted tersely. “But I intend to deal with it, believe me!”
Kate stormed out of the nurse’s station just as quickly as she had entered, leaving Roseanne nearly speechless.
†
Kate walked more slowly now along the dimly lit corridor and looked into each room through sliding, metal windows with less thoroughness than usual. She appeared preoccupied, but at least her rage had diminished. A handsome young man in his early twenties wearing a guard’s uniform approached from the opposite direction with a pleasant smile on his youthful face.
“Good evening, Mrs. Asher,” Jameson Ramos said and touched his hat respectfully.
“Evening, Jameson,” she said with little enthusiasm. She paused in the hallway, despite her eagerness to press onward. “Are we secure?”
“Everyone’s tucked away on the second floor,” he replied with a boyish smile. “I was just about to get some coffee before I patrolled your floor.”
Jameson was a relatively handsome man who looked particularly good in his security guard’s uniform. His outgoing personality gained plenty of female attention throughout town. Kate showed little interest in the handsome security guard despite the interest he showed in her.
“Take your time,” she replied. “I have some research to do in the archives anyway.”
“Don’t be too long,” he announced. “Nearly time for you to go home.”
“Well, I may be a few minutes late,” she said simply. “I’ll page for you when I’m ready to leave the building.”
“Certainly, Mrs. Asher.”
Kate continued along the corridor and paused just outside a room with a frosted window over metal pigeon wire. Written on the window was the word, “Archives”. She entered the dark room and turned on the lights. There were shelves of books, filing cabinets, and boxes of old documents. She proceeded down the first row of filing cabinets with a particular mission in mind.
†
11:30 P.M.
Roseanne sat behind the cluttered counter while chewing on her nails and documented in one of the thick charts. Asher approached the nurse’s station on the first floor of the east wing and stood by the counter. He appeared puzzled while looking at the young nurse.
“Good evening, Rosy,” Asher said to the nurse behind the counter.
Roseanne looked up and her smile brightened. She dropped her pen and immediately sprang to her feet. “Good evening, Asher,” she breathed almost romantically as her eyes swept over his distinguished features.
More than good looks, Asher was possibly the most charming man in all Stony Ridge. He was definitely not local, and the women appreciated his refined personality and undeniable charm. He pointed down the hall in the direction he had come.
“Are you aware there’s no guard at the front door?” he asked while looking curious and possibly concerned.
“That would be Roy,” she replied cheerfully. “He’s never at his post.”
“Kind of dangerous to leave the door unlocked and unattended in this sort of place,” Asher remarked.
Roseanne shrugged while smiling warmly. “What could possibly happen in this hick burg?”
He leaned on the tall counter and smiled charmingly at her. “I suppose you’re right. How are you?”
Roseanne blushed slightly to his charm. “I’d be better if I didn’t have to work tonight. It’s such a beautiful, warm evening,” she announced with an almost lustful grin. “Perfect night for lovers.” She seductively leaned on the counter, allowing her cleavage to be clearly displayed before him. Her smile was almost devious. “You’re a little early for Kate. She just started her last rounds. She’ll be another twenty minutes, I’m sure.”
“I don’t mind waiting,” he replied simply. “The poker game wiped me out early, and I didn’t see the point to making the trip home just to turn around and come back here.”
Roseanne giggled inappropriately with a lustful look in her eyes. “Lost again, huh?”
He shrugged. “I’m not much of a gambler, I suppose.”
Roseanne gave her dark hair a flirty toss from her shoulder. “Could I get you some coffee while you wait?”
“That’s kind of you, Rosy, if it’s no trouble.”
“None at all.” She flashed a smile. “Don’t go away. I’ll be right back.”
“Actually, I think I’ll sneak over to the second floor lounge for a quick cigarette,” he announced then smiled deviously. “Katie doesn’t appreciat
e it when I smoke in the house. She claims it kills her plants.”
“Kate and her plants,” Roseanne replied warmly with a shake of her head.
“Yes, our sunroom looks more like a greenhouse these days,” he replied with a soft laugh. “But as long as I don’t have to touch them, I suppose they can stay.”
“I’ll get us some coffee and bring it to you in the lounge,” Roseanne offered a little too quickly. “Maybe I could bum a cigarette off you.”
Asher tilted his head thoughtfully and hid his smile. “You don’t smoke.”
“Sure I do,” she replied and shifted as if being caught in her lie. “Just not often.”
“Alright,” he replied pleasantly to her admission. “I’ll meet you in the lounge.”
Roseanne watched Asher walk away from the nurse’s station. She gently bit her lower lip then smiled deviously. She hurried into the back and lifted the empty coffeepot. Roseanne groaned with frustration.
“Damn it, Jameson,” she snarled and set it down.
Roseanne picked up the empty coffee can and peered into it with the disgust evident on her face. She tossed it in the garbage and approached Kate’s locker. She opened Kate’s locker, removed an unopened can of coffee, and then noticed the envelope Kate had placed in the front pocket of her purse. She stared at the envelope and appeared curious.
†
Kate stood before a large filing cabinet toward the back of the filing room and rummaged through several files. She slammed the drawer shut then sighed with disgust. She looked around the room while strumming her fingers on the cabinet.
“It couldn’t have disappeared that quickly,” she muttered softly to herself.
Kate randomly opened each file drawer and rummaged through every file. Her frustration increased with each drawer. As she slammed the last drawer, she heard an unusual thump from the front of the file room. The sound of the door closing followed. Kate looked across the filing cabinets in the direction of the door. It seemed odd anyone else would be in the filing room this time of night. It was the shift change and most of the other nurses were making rounds and documenting in charts. She walked through the aisle of storage shelves filled with boxes of old documents and toward the closed door. She stepped out of the aisle, approached the door, and turned the knob. The door wouldn’t open. She appeared surprised and gave it a firm tug. It still didn’t budge.