“What happened?” I asked, again afraid to tread into the territory but knowing I needed to.
She shrugged. “It was a Sunday. We were going to church as usual, but Anthony didn’t feel well. Said his stomach hurt. I should’ve made him go. Or should’ve stayed. But my husband said it was probably just from eating too much homemade ice cream the night before. Said to let the boy sleep it off. So I did.” She paused, and I could feel her regret in the air. Guilt and hindsight are never a good mix.
“We came home, and he was gone. I thought maybe he’d wandered away or had lied about not feeling well so he could spend time in the barn with his horse. But when we went out to look for him, we just found Robert grooming them alone. Asked if he’d seen Anthony, but he hadn’t. Spent the whole day looking. Robert helped us look all day. I remember how upset he was, as if it was his own child. His hands were shaky as he helped us look, and tears kept falling. We placated each other by telling ourselves that he probably just wandered away for a little while. But when one day turned into two, we got the police involved. And of course, as you know, they never found anything.”
I reached across the table and touched her hand. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
And I was.
We talked for a while about Essic and his downward spiral. But there wasn’t anything else that was helpful. I was walking to the door to head home when I paused in the living room.
A photograph of a little boy sat on the mantel of the fireplace. The boy was holding a fishing rod, smiling from ear to ear. He beamed, a huge gap between his two front teeth and bright blonde hair. He was tall and fair, a boy who just looked like a charmer.
She noticed me examining the photo. “That’s my sweet boy. One of the last photos of him.”
I studied him, questions stirring. The police cleared Essic, but could he actually be responsible? Had they missed something? Or, like Mrs. Ambridge said, was Anthony’s death simply the catalyst for Essic’s mental demise?
I didn’t know. I left, thankful for the meeting but feeling more frustrated than ever. I was no closer to an answer. Maybe I never would be.
The dead don’t talk after all. Who would actually reveal their secrets?
Chapter Twenty-Six
Walking toward the desk the next night at work, I froze in the middle of the fluorescent-lit hallway. Roxy animatedly chattered in a sad attempt to cheer him, but it didn’t matter. The man in the wheelchair that she was pushing was unresponsive and twitching. His eye stared at me, and I shivered. He didn’t react to the sight of me. Or maybe he couldn’t. I wasn’t certain. Still, something in the way his piercing look stabbed into me made me think he was in there. And even though he couldn’t voice it, I knew one thing; he was devastated I hadn’t taken the warning. Perhaps he simply thought I was a fool. In truth, maybe he was thinking nothing at all judging by his withdrawn state.
“Where is he going? What happened to him?” I asked, stopping Roxy as she wheeled Jack toward the elevator.
“There were some issues yesterday. He was extremely hostile and volatile. Dr. Righthound took him for treatment just now. He’s okay. It just takes them a bit to come to after the treatment.”
I shook my head. “But he’s never been a problem, has he?”
Roxy shrugged. “When he first was admitted, which is normal. But no, not until you showed up. Anna said you have a way of winding everyone up,” she said, eyeing me. She grinned to soften her words, but I wasn’t soothed.
“So where is he going now?”
“Jeez, girl, so many questions. What, you take a liking to him, too?” She rolled her eyes and batted at me with her hand. I fought the urge to ask what that meant, but I had the sneaking suspicion that Anna had been chattering about me, and not in a good way, to the staff. Or at least to Roxy. “Listen, you can’t get attached. You have to learn that quick. But he’s going to floor five, your old stomping grounds.”
“Wait, what? Why would he be going there?” I was floored and actually stepped in front of the wheelchair so she couldn’t keep going. I looked down to see that the janitor’s jaw had gone slack and a trail of drool dribbled down his mouth. His whole body seemed to quake, but his eyes were stuck in a single spot, his head tilted at an unsettling angle. What the hell did they do to him?
Roxy sighed. “We’re making some room for another resident who needs to be on floor two as per her family. They have a lot of money, and Anna wants to make them happy. We’re just moving old chomps up to that spot on floor A temporarily. Anna said something about him maybe qualifying for a trial or something at another institution anyway, so he won’t be there long. Not that it’s any of your business, by the way.”
My mind whirled with possibilities. Another one leaving? He couldn’t speak, but I could hear his dire words echoing in my brain. Get out while you can. I looked at the man who had just days before been healthy and hearty. Now, he
