You've Been Warned

THIS IS A MONSTER CLUE in the ongoing mystery called “my life of late.” It has to be.

I whip my head back from the hallway, quickly shutting the door. I’m alone in the room and desperately want to keep it that way.

I have no idea how Dr. Magnumsen, my pediatrician from my hometown, could be alive, let alone working in Brooklyn. What’s more, he hasn’t aged a day. He looks exactly as he did when I last saw him.

Back when I was twelve years old.

The doubts creep in like a heavy fog. Is it really him? Maybe this doctor just looks like Floyd Magnumsen. Right down to the cleft chin?

I know one way to find out. Walk right up and ask. If I’m right, he won’t even have to answer. Given the past—why and how he was killed—the look on his face will say it all.

Christ, listen to yourself, Kristin! If you’re right, that means you’ll be talking to a dead man!

And if I’m wrong? If I go into that hallway and make another insane scene?

Suffice to say, the hospital will put me up in a room, all right. One with wall-to-wall padding. And a little window so they can watch me at all times.

But it’s Magnumsen; I know it is.

Like I know I saw my father. I even have the pictures to prove it.

Wait. Pictures!

I rush over to my shoulder bag and grab my camera, checking for film. It’s ready.

Am I? And for what? The next test?

I pause by the door, swallowing hard, my cheek resting against the cool wood. I need to be quick and I need to be quiet. I can’t let anyone see me take the shot. Not Dr. Curley, and especially not Magnumsen. Why is that, Kris? Because the dead don’t like having their pictures taken?

Carefully, I peek into the hallway again. The two men are still together, but Dr. Curley and his blond hair have moved again, blocking my shot.

Camera raised, I watch through my lens, waiting for the Kodak moment. C’mon, Doc, move a little!

He doesn’t. The man’s a statue.

Which means I am too. How long can I stand here before someone—

Now!

For a split second, Dr. Curley shifts his feet as he tucks away his cell phone. I’ve got the shot! More proof that I’m not a mad person, just that the world has gone mad all around me. Makes sense—if you’re in my shoes, anyway.

Right as I snap the pic, I hear a scream over my shoulder. I spin to see a very pregnant woman hunched over at the entrance to the emergency room. She screams again, and two nurses rush toward her.

She’s pointing at the room I’m in—looking and pointing right at me.

She screams again and utters just one word: “Satan!”

And she’s not the only one looking my way. So is Dr. Magnumsen.

If I wasn’t sure before, I am now. It’s been nearly fifteen years, but it’s as if I haven’t aged a day either. This man who molested me—my pediatrician—recognizes who I am in an instant.

The wretched look on his face says it all.

Chapter 69

“KRISTIN, PLEASE unlock the door,” says Dr. Robert Curley in the perfect tone for reading Dr. Seuss to preschoolers.

I don’t. I don’t even respond to this complete fraud.

“Whatever’s bothering you, I’m sure we can help.” Did you say “we,” Robbie?

I hear the strain in his voice as he tries to remain warm and fuzzy. There must be a book somewhere, How to Talk to a Nutcase. Lesson one: Never, ever lose your cool.

“C’mon, Kristin, I’m not the enemy,” he says.

It’s an interesting choice of words, and I speak up.

“Is he with you?” I ask. “Is he still out there?”

“Is who with me?”

Ha! I know Floyd Magnumsen is standing right there; I can feel it. Why is Robbie playing dumb now, I wonder? Unless, of course, he’s part of all this.

I fall silent again, listening as Curley repeatedly tries to coax me out of this tiny box of a room. It’s no use, and he knows it. His frustration mounts, and soon warm and fuzzy turn to piss and vinegar.

“JUST OPEN THE DOOR!” he yells. “OPEN IT THIS INSTANT.”

Curley begins pounding the door with his fist. I keep my eyes glued on the knob with its push-button lock, terrified that it might pop out from all the rattling.

“YOU CAN’T STAY IN THERE FOREVER!”

We’ll see about that.

The shouting and pounding stop, quickly replaced by whispering. I press my ear against the door. Magnumsen is talking. I can barely make out what he’s saying, but what I do hear is enough.

“The key. Who has the key? We have to get her out of there.”

Immediately, I grab one of the chairs and try to wedge it under the doorknob. It’s not tall enough. Now what?

Although I may be desperate, I’m not stupid. I won’t be able to hold off Curley and Magnumsen once they have the key.

But I know someone who can.

My hands trembling, I dial a number on my cell. I’ve got one bar of signal, and it’s flashing in and out. Through bursts of static, the line rings once, then twice.

On the third ring, I hear footsteps out in the hallway followed by a key sliding into the lock.

Pick up! Pick up! Pick up!

The door flies open, smacking against the wall. I don’t see Magnumsen. Dr. Curley immediately grabs for the phone, but I won’t let go. I’m clinging to my cell like a pit bull when I hear another pop of static and the voice I’ve been waiting for.

“Hello?”

I scream the name of the hospital as Curley and I fall to the ground in a tug-of-war. One by one, he begins prying my fingers loose. It hurts like hell.

“Help, Michael, you have to save me!”

Chapter 70

“ARE THE DOORS LOCKED?” I whisper. “You checked?”

“Yes.”

“Are you absolutely sure? I know I sound a little crazy right now.”

Michael reaches for a button on the ceiling of the limo and lowers the tinted-glass divider halfway. “Vin, the doors are locked, right?”

“Yes, sir,” grunts Vincent. But just to be nice, Vincent unlocks and locks them again.

Up goes the divider with a mechanical hum. Michael and I are in our own little world again. I’m lying across the backseat with my head in his lap as he gently caresses the nasty bump below my hairline. That bump is real. So is the rest of what happened. “Everything’s going to be okay,” he assures me.

What I wouldn’t give for him to be right. For the time being, though, I’ll take being out of that hospital.

“I didn’t think that awful jerk Curley would ever release me,” I say.

Michael nods. “He was pretty stubborn, wasn’t he?”

“What did you say to make him change his mind?”