here.”
“Yes, I think that’s right.” Eileen said, not taking her eyes off the officer.
“Eileen, is it possible to talk to him?” Janet asked, leaning forward slightly, lowering her voice. It was as if everything about this man required quiet; secrecy.
“Janet, I’ve never heard him talk…” the receptionist said. Her pleasant demeanor had turned in to one of professional respect, and little else.
“Anybody ever talk to him?” Janet asked, locking eyes on the red-haired woman, unblinking. The woman lowered her gaze from the jet eyes to her police badge, seeming to remind herself that Janet wasn’t just asking to pass time. And she probably couldn’t say no, either.
“Well, they talk to him every time they go in to see him. Ask him how he’s doing, if he’s feeling ok, that sort of stuff.”
“But nothing more than pleasantries, I bet. The sort of questions you wouldn’t really need to answer, right?” Janet said, still fixing her gaze on the woman.
“Well, people don’t really expect him to respond…” she began, but the officer quickly intercepted her.
“Mind if I try?” she asked, in a tone that was more of an announcement of intent than a question. The receptionist paused, meeting her gaze again, and seeing the resolution there responded.
“I guess not. No harm in trying, right?” in a tone that said anything but that.
Five minutes later, two attendants had led Officer Littlehorse to the adult dissociative wing, which had a surprising amount of security in place. All doors were deadbolt key locked. No getting in or out without a key. A sign on the inside of the double doors through which she’d passed said “Elopement risk” in bold black marker.
“They put that up when somebody’s acting up – trying to get out. No danger, though.” One of the attendants said, looking back at the officer who said nothing.
The day room area of the wing was heavily populated by quiet people on this sunny day, most not even taking notice of the officer’s presence, but the attendants led Officer Littlehorse past it down one of the side corridors that looked very much like a hospital with neat doors lined up on either sides. The smell was similar to a hospital, and the silence was unbroken by all save the occasional strains of a TV or radio coming from inside one of the rooms. Janet glanced into the rooms when they chanced to pass one open to the hall, where grey and silent men and women sat reading or nodding. When the attendants stopped at a door on the right near the end of the wing, Janet noticed the small sign on the door, which simply said “Neigless, Charles”. The attendant seeming to be in charge looked briefly at her before knocking and opening the door.
“Mr. Neigless? You have a visitor.” The attendant said in a flat monotone, more like a formality than a question or announcement. The room appeared to be empty at first, and no answer came from within, but as Janet followed the two attendants into the room, she noticed a disheveled heap of blankets near the far side of the single bed in the corner of the room. A graying head partially peaked out of the sheets, faced turned to the wall. No movement came from the figure, and the stillness and quiet of the room was so profound that Janet’s first instinct was that the figure was lifeless. Slowly, though, the head turned to face the room, and Janet saw a very sad grey face, deeply lined with time and memory.
The attendant repeated the announcement mechanically, but neither the figure on the bed nor Janet paid attention, both registering each other and locking eyes. Janet spoke.
“Can you leave us to talk for a while?” she said to the two. The leader paused and replied that it would be all right for a little while, but to push the call button if she needed any help, leaving her to wonder what she would need help for. The emaciated shell of a man lying there looked as if he wouldn’t’ be able to rise up out of the bed, much less pose a threat to anyone. The two left, leaving the door ajar. After a few moments in which is became apparent they were standing just outside, Janet rose and closed it quietly, then sat slowly in a chair near the TV at the foot of the bed. She noticed the TV was covered in dust, the remote control lying on top of it.
“Mr. Neigless, I’m officer Littlehorse. Can I talk to you for a few minutes?” The man continued his gaze, head turned, but still facing the wall in what looked to be an uncomfortable position, as if she were a nuisance that he expected to leave momentarily, like a fly come in through the window that would soon fly out leaving him to his sleep again. His eyes were clear, though. Deep blue, ringed by wrinkled grey skin, but clear and piercing. He did not speak.
“I’m here to talk about something that happened a long time ago, to find out if you can help me with some information.” She continued. She tried to keep her voice level and flat as if she fully expected to get a response, but secretly fearing the man’s lips would not move. She continued.
“Can I call you Chuck?” she said, leaning forward slightly, trying to connect with the silent man. No response. Janet thought a moment, then tried a different tact.
“I’m here because some kids are in trouble.” She began, watching the expressionless face for any change. A slight dilation of the pupils – nothing more. But it was a start. Janet figured that if she kept eye contact she still had a chance. If he turned his face back the wall, she’d probably lost. He continued to stare at her.
“I’m afraid that they might get hurt if I don’t do something, but I have to know some things first…” she continued quietly. The grey face simply stared at her, eyes wide.
“Chuck, if you know anything about what happened in that lake house back then, I really, really need to know. You could be saving lives by helping me.” Janet knew that she could try the legal route to get him to talk, but doubted that would get anything but resolute silence. The eyes blinked, but nothing more.
“I want to talk about Jay Atherton.” She said, playing a card she’d been planning on holding. She feared losing any chance of getting anything out of him, and knew it was time to show her hand.
“Did he hurt you, Chuck.” A single drop of sweat that had been forming on the man’s forehead unnoticed by the officer slid silently down the grey, prematurely wrinkled forehead. This was a gamble. She didn’t really have anything but her gut instinct to indicate that Tanner’s uncle knew more than Tanner said, but the gamble paid off, and the grey man spoke in a dry quiet, oddly high pitched voice.
“He’ll kill me.”
Janet struggled to hide her surprise and excitement, feeling her pulse quickening. She’d cracked the door open but knew it could still slam shut.
“Why, Chuck? Why are you afraid of him?”
There was a long quiet moment while it became obvious that the decrepit man was struggling with the urge to say something.
“He’s a killer, Janet. I know. I was there!” came out in a hissing whisper.
Janet pulled her chair closer to the bed and said
“Talk to me, Chuck.”
Littlehorse to the Rescue
Janet had visited Jay Atherton that morning, and found him just leaving for his office in town. He’d told her that he didn’t have much time as he had to check in his practice then head to the county hospital for rounds. The message was intended to back her off her questioning, but she’d said that what she wanted to talk about wouldn’t take much time.
“What’s it about?” he’d said, half way into his car.
She’d thought about how to answer this before she even got to Jay’s farm. As a police officer in full uniform, merely stating to someone that you wanted to talk to them put them on full guard. Jay was no exception.
“It’s nothing, Jay. Just some kids have been having a little trouble with somebody in town. I don’t know who it is. It’s a kid, or a young adult. I thought I knew everbody in this county, but not this kid. I’ll catch up with you later today.”
The doctor had responded to this in an unusual manner.
“What are you asking me for?” he’d said, with more than an edge of defiance in his voice. Janet thought abou
t how cold and dark his eyes looked.
“Oh, just thought you might know something, Jay.” She’d said.
He said nothing more, only closing his car door and starting his engine. He kept eye contact, though – those cold dark eyes. Janet felt a little chill, but would not break eye contact with him. She’d definitely catch up with him later, somehow.
Janet Littlehorse pushed her cruiser to the limit the pine-needled road would allow. The old county fire road was not as abandoned as it seemed. Fresh tracks clearly stood out in the beams of her headlight. Night was coming on. Tanner wasn’t home or answering his cell. Delcie knew nothing. Jen wasn’t home either. And most importantly, Jay was gone and so was his car. On a hunch, she’d driven out to his road and got close enough to the house to notice his car gone, risking having him see her squad car. She reached to her hip for her service revolver, glancing at the riot gun strapped in front of her. She did a mental check. Both guns were loaded.
She had not been able to find Jay Atherton the rest of the day. She’d checked his practice, the emergency clinic, and even called the county hospital, finally driving past his farm a final time. She hadn’t ever been to the lake house, and only had a rough idea which fire road it was on. Instinct drove her to try to find it, though. She’d had her life saved a couple of times by her intuition, so she’d learned to listen to it. It