The Deadliest Institution Collection Read online

  “I won’t leave you, my darling,” he said softly while watching the flames. “Without you, I have nothing.”

  †

  12:20 P.M.

  Fire trucks surrounded the entire east wing of the institution as smoke and flames billowed from the windows. Firemen raced around the chaotic exterior of the building as the few nurses and guards attempted to gather the roaming patients in their hospital gowns and, in some cases, straitjackets. Several townspeople began to gather on the institution grounds just beyond the small cemetery and stared at the burning building with horror. An expensive black car pulled up to the fire trucks and a man in his early forties stepped out. He paused and watched the building burn as his mouth hung open. He was rendered speechless. Howard Norad, the hospital administrator, looked toward the main door of the institution as Dr. Talbert and Roseanne emerged from the building. He ran from his car and hurried toward them. Roseanne coughed uncontrollably and sat on the grass while Dr. Talbert aided her, now kneeling alongside her.

  “What happened?” Howard demanded to know as he stared down at them on the grass with the look of shock still present on his face.

  Dr. Talbert looked up at the administrator and slowly shook his head. “It was one of the patients. He somehow escaped his room and set fire to the linen closets on all three floors.”

  “The fire alarms?” Howard demanded. “What about the sprinklers? They couldn’t contain it better than this?”

  Dr. Talbert was silent a moment. He inhaled deeply and slowly stood, looking Howard directly in the eyes. “They didn’t work,” he said, hesitated, and then spoke softly. “It’s almost as if they were disconnected.”

  “The patient?” Howard demanded.

  Talbert shook his head. “I don’t know. He could have done it, I suppose.”

  Howard looked back at the burning east wing. “The patients?” he announced, looked around the yard, and then back at the young doctor. “This can’t be all of them.”

  “There was no warning--limited staff,” Dr. Talbert replied softly with remorse. “We rescued the ones we could and suffered many staff casualties.”

  Howard’s eyes were wide with horror. “How many didn’t get out?”

  “Twenty, maybe thirty,” Dr. Talbert said sadly. “It’s hard to say.”

  Howard held his head in his hands and groaned softly. The loss of the building was one thing, but the loss of lives would be devastating.

  “Mick!” came a frantic female voice. “Mick!”

  Howard turned to the voice and came face-to-face with a conservative looking woman in her late twenties, Jill Sutten. Jill’s eyes were wide with the same look of horror.

  “Where’s my brother?” she demanded to know.

  Howard looked at Dr. Talbert with question in his eyes. Talbert frowned and slowly shook his head. Howard shut his eyes and held his breath. Jill began to scream hysterically and called out her brother’s name while running toward the burning building. One of the firemen seized her. She fought against him while reaching for the building.

  “Mick!”

  Jameson ran across the grounds and approached Dr. Talbert and Howard. “Mr. Norad,” he gasped while out of breath. “We have a serious problem.”

  Howard looked at the burning institution then back at the young guard. “I know,” he replied coldly. “Round up the patients before they find their way off the property.”

  “That’s the problem,” Jameson replied with a look of concern on his face.

  Howard grabbed Jameson by the arm and pulled him away from Dr. Talbert and Roseanne. “What’s that supposed to mean? Are you trying to tell me one of the patients may have escaped?” he demanded to know.

  “Not just any patient,” Jameson said softly. “It was Hal Burgess.”

  Howard’s brows knitted as the expression drained from his face. “Are you sure he’s not around or still inside the building?”

  “No, he attacked Tim at the gate. Nearly broke his neck. He was wearing a green scrub suit and a lab coat.” Jameson stared at Howard with a look of deep concern. “There was blood on the lab coat.”

  Howard rolled his eyes shut. “God help us.” He looked back at Jameson. “Alert the police at once.”

  Chapter Three

  1:00 A.M.

  The McMurray farm was nestled on a large parcel of land with sprawling pastures lined with wooden fencing. A large, black and white pinto pony grazed lazily in the pasture not far from the newer, two-story barn. The farmhouse was a much older, remodeled two-story home with an elegant wraparound porch and stereotypical rocking chairs on it. The night seemed peaceful so far from the bustle of town and the frightening scene at the infamous institution. The plump pony suddenly lifted its head and watched something. It snorted and pranced around excitedly at what it saw. Twelve-year-old Jacey McMurray looked out of her second story bedroom window as her pony neighed from the fence near the barn. Something had the pony upset. Jacey jumped from her bed in her colorful pajamas and ran to her mother’s bedroom next door. She entered without knocking. A man and woman jumped apart with surprise to the interruption. Her mother clutched the sheets to her naked body and forced a tiny smile while touching her flushed cheeks.

  “Told you to lock the door,” came a male murmur from beneath the covers.

  “Jacey,” her mother said while gently clearing her throat. “Were you having another nightmare?”

  “No,” she replied quickly. “Patches is running around the fence. There could be a wild animal out there.” Her eyes were suddenly wide. “Maybe a wolf.”

  There was another male moan and the covers moved from the man’s head as he sat up. He scratched his mussed hair.

  “I’ve told you before, Jacey,” he announced with a sigh. “There are no wolves around here.”

  Jacey eyed him with a scathing look that conveyed her distaste. “Daddy wouldn’t like you sleeping in his bed with Mommy, Uncle Russell.” She looked back at her mother. “Can we put Patches in the barn tonight?”

  Her mother looked down at the sheets, appeared ashamed, and slowly nodded. She raked her trembling fingers through her hair. “Russell, would you mind?”

  Russell frowned and nodded slowly while sharing the guilt. It wasn’t easy on any of them being he married his deceased brother’s wife. “Yeah, I’ll get the pony.”

  Jacey ran from the room and into her own bedroom. She slipped into her shoes and crawled through the open bedroom window.

  “What are you doing?” Russell’s voice demanded to know from the doorway.

  Jacey looked back at her Uncle Russell with surprise to his question. “Going out the back door,” she said matter-of-fact. “Meet you outside.”

  “Jacey,” he growled firmly.

  Jacey scaled the porch roof, jumped into the big tree, and climbed down to the porch railing. She teetered a moment on the railing then jumped onto the porch and waited impatiently. The front lights came on, lighting the area between the house and the barn. The excited pony ran around the fence. Something moved in the woods near the barn. Jacey stared into the dark woods with great interest. The front door opened. Jacey looked at Russell with some disapproval.

  “Daddy always brought the big gun,” she informed him.

  Russell groaned and rolled his eyes. “We don’t need the big gun. Besides, there aren’t any bullets.”

  They walked off the porch together and approached the paddock and barn where the excited pony watching them and the woods.

  “They’re on the closet shelf on the right behind the dirty magazines,” Jacey replied simply.

  He glared at her but didn’t comment.

  “I could show you how to load it, if you’d like,” she added.

  Russell groaned and rubbed his eyes. Something rustled in the woods. Patches snorted and ran along the fence while watching the woods with great interest. The pony’s head was high, and he remained motionless. Jacey approached the fence and climbed on top of it.

  “Here boy,” she called
to her pony.

  The pony didn’t respond but, instead, stood perfectly still with its eyes on the woods. Russell studied the dark, wooded area and appeared almost motionless. He turned his head slightly to the little girl.

  “Jacey,” he said faintly. “Go get the big gun.”

  She stood straight on the fence and stared into the woods with big eyes. The brush moved causing the pony to snort. She clutched the fence with alarm.

  “Is it a wolf?” she gasped softly.

  Russell didn’t look at her but nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he replied nervously. “Go--now.”.

  Jacey jumped from the fence.

  “Russell!” Jacey’s mother suddenly cried from the bedroom window. The sound of terror in her voice was chilling.

  Russell spun and ran a couple of steps closer to the house. “What’s wrong?” he called back.

  Patches bolted across the fence and snorted fiercely. Jacey looked back at her pony and gasped. She grabbed the lead rope on the fence, climbed over the wooden rail, and jumped into the paddock, oblivious to the grown-up conversation. She approached the frightened pony. The pony squealed and bolted past her, nearly knocking her down. There was rustling from the woods, causing her to look with surprise. She anticipated a wolf. A creepy man in a white lab coat took a step toward the fence from the tree line. Jacey cried out with surprise. He darted behind a large tree. Jacey was grabbed around the waist from behind. She screamed as Russell plucked her from the paddock and ran while carrying her through the open gate. The pony ran from the corral and across the large field.

  “Patches,” she cried out. “Patches! Come back!”

  She kicked and fought Russell as he ran with her to the well-lit house and into the kitchen. Her mother slammed the door behind them and bolted it. She clutched her head then sank to one knee and hugged Jacey as Russell set her down. Jacey wiggled away from her mother, who immediately straightened and looked at Russell.

  “Someone saw one of them leaving the hospital grounds,” her mother gasped nervously.

  “Is he dangerous?” Russell asked with concern in his tone.

  “You let Patches get away,” Jacey cried out at her uncle.

  Russell pointed to the stairs beyond the kitchen in an authoritative manner. “Jacey, go to your room!”

  She glared at him with hatred in her eyes. “You aren’t my Daddy!”

  “Jacey, please,” her mother shouted as her body trembled.

  She looked at her mother with surprise. She couldn’t believe her mother was acting this way. It was all Uncle Russell’s fault. Her father never would’ve allowed this. Tears filled her eyes, and she ran from the room.

  †

  Saturday, 7:00 A.M.

  Deputy Monroe, now dressed officially in his police uniform, approached the nurse’s station at the county hospital. A plump nurse in her late forties looked at the stocky, sturdy man in uniform, appeared to approve, and smiled warmly.

  “Can I help you, officer?” she asked politely.

  “Yes, I’m looking for a man who was brought here late last night. Konrad Asher,” Deputy Monroe said simply.

  There was a loud metallic crash from one of the rooms at the opposite end of the hall, which startled Monroe. The nurse didn’t even react and smiled bitterly.

  “Yes,” she replied dryly. “That would be him now. Take him with you--please.”

  Deputy Monroe inhaled deeply and continued down the hall toward the familiar, raised male voice at the end of the hall. He entered the now silent room. Asher lie reclined on his elevated hospital bed and stared out the window without a word as the young nurse cleaned up the meal tray on the floor. Whatever happened ended in silence.

  “Asher,” Deputy Monroe announced as he paused in the private room doorway.

  The nurse straightened and sighed with relief. “I hope you’re here to take him away.”

  Asher turned his head to the mention of his name. He stared at Monroe with little expression. “Get this insufferable woman from my sight,” he scoffed lowly.

  “I was just leaving,” she said and took the tray from the room.

  Asher once again looked out the window. Deputy Monroe approached the bedside and stood there several minutes without being acknowledged. He finally cleared his throat. Asher still didn’t look at him.

  “I know you’ve been through a lot, Asher,” Monroe said gently. “But you don’t need to take it out on the hospital staff.”

  Asher’s head sharply turned toward Monroe with narrow, evil eyes. “Been through a lot?” he questioned lowly. “Katie’s dead. My life ended. Don’t come here and attempt to downplay what occurred last night. You haven’t a fucking clue what I’ve been through.” His head once more turned toward the window and he was again silent.

  Monroe inhaled deeply then sat in the chair alongside the bed. “That’s what we need to talk about,” he said firmly. “One of the guards at the institution reported a patient had escaped his room just before the fire. He found Kate shortly after that. He was ambushed but never saw the man’s face.”

  Asher slowly looked at Monroe and squinted. “This monster; it has a name?”

  Monroe nodded. “Hal Burgess,” he replied. “Odd part is the patient was strapped to his bed in a locked room just twenty minutes before your wife’s murder.”

  Asher turned his head, stared at the sheets, and appeared to sink deep into thought. Something occurred to him, and he looked back at Monroe. “How do they know it was this particular patient if the guard hadn’t seen his face?”

  “He left his usual calling card,” Monroe replied.

  “Calling card?” Asher asked and appeared unusually calm for the first time.

  “He carves a symbol into his victim’s body,” Monroe replied softly. He gently cleared his throat. “You were found with your wife in the file room by a firefighter. Did you happen to see anything? Do you remember anything unusual occurring just before you found her?”

  Asher tilted his head and slowly nodded in response. “Yes, as a matter-of-fact,” he replied dryly then suddenly exploded. “The entire building was on fire! The whole fucking situation was a fucking nightmare!”

  Monroe inhaled deeply and attempted to remain calm despite his friend’s outburst and colorful language. “Please, Asher,” he said gently. “I’m trying to find Kate’s killer.”

  All emotion drained from Asher’s face as he stared at the deputy. “He got away?” he asked softly.

  Monroe nodded. “Shortly after the fire trucks arrived. He attacked a guard and ran from the grounds through the woods. He was wearing a green scrub suit and a white lab coat. Russell McMurray reportedly spotted him at their place a little after one.”

  Asher’s interest appeared to increase. “He’s somewhere in Stony Ridge?”

  “It’s quite possible he’s still there,” Monroe informed him. “Let’s just concentrate on your wife’s attack right now. You were in the second floor lounge on the east wing at approximately eleven thirty-five.”

  “Yes,” he replied. “I was early for Kate. She was making rounds, so I went for a cigarette.”

  Monroe jotted notes in a small notebook. “What time did you leave the lounge? What made you leave?”

  “I heard voices in the hallway. I thought it may have been Katie, so I took a walk,” he replied. “While I was walking along the hallway, I heard the fire alert.”

  “The guard was attacked after finding your wife’s body in the archives,” Monroe explained. “Roseanne reported Kate was upset just before she’d gone out for her last patient check. She was very eager to speak to you as soon as you arrived.”

  Asher stared at Monroe a long moment and appeared confused. “Rosy said that?” he suddenly asked. “Why didn’t she tell me Kate wanted to see me?”

  “I’m not sure,” Monroe replied. “Had you and Kate been fighting that day?”

  Asher’s eyes remained fixed on Deputy Monroe. His head tilted slightly. “Why do you ask?” he asked as his eyes narro
wed. “Are you getting at something?”

  “Just asking the standard questions,” Monroe explained and began to fidget. He avoided looking at Asher. “We’re not accustomed to murders in this town.”

  “Are you suggesting that I possibly murdered Katie and set the institution on fire to cover it,” Asher snapped hotly as his hostility rose. “I’ve known you for three years, Monroe. You know how much I love my wife.” He was oddly silent. “I think you’d better leave before I say something you’ll regret.”

  Monroe nervously stood. “It’s my job to investigate your wife’s death. It’s because I know you, Asher, that I’m here and not the sheriff. He doesn’t believe that it’s possible for Hal to have escaped his bed and the room on his own. I don’t believe you were involved.”

  “Get out,” Asher growled and pointed toward the door.

  Monroe slowly nodded and left the room. Asher stared at the blank television screen. His eyes narrowed and a strange look crossed his face.

  †

  Deputy Monroe approached the police blazer in the hospital parking lot, shook his head with disgust, and placed his cowboy hat firmly on his head. Derek appeared between the two parked vehicles and forced Monroe to stop mid-stride.

  “Derek?” Monroe announced with a look of confusion. “What are you doing here?”

  “Are you going to arrest him?” Derek demanded to know. His eyes were narrow and fixed on the deputy.

  “Arrest who? Asher?”

  “You’re damned right Asher,” Derek snapped. “He killed Kate last night--”

  “Now wait a minute,” Monroe interrupted and held up his hand. “We don’t know that. We had an escaped serial killer in that building last night. I don’t understand why everyone’s so quick to point the finger at Asher.”

  “Because he did it,” Derek shouted. “Kate’s mother told me just last week that Kate and Asher had some sort of argument. If she would divorce him, he’d lose everything.”