The Other: (A Psychological Thriller) Read online

  “Who’s dead?” Her stomach growled and she wanted to start eating, but she forced herself to wait.

  “A young reporter for the Emerald State News.” Kyle leaned in and whispered, “Lexa Robbins. Her name will be on the front page tomorrow, but keep it quiet until then.”

  No! It took a moment to process the shock. “I just read an article by her yesterday. She covered the protests at Mt. Angel, the psychiatric hospital.” Rox tried to make sense of the relevant locations and how Kyle had ended up working the case. “Did she live in the greater Portland area?”

  “Her driver’s license has a Salem address, but she was found in a pond outside of Canby. The local police chief asked our Tri-County Major Crimes unit to help out.” Kyle glanced at the pizza. “Can I go ahead?”

  “Please do.” For that moment, her own appetite had dissipated. “Who killed her and why?” Dark thoughts about the damn mental facility kept surfacing.

  “We’re still working on that.” Kyle kept his voice low. “But a Salem detective says her live-in boyfriend has disappeared, and her neighbors claim the couple had a fight Sunday around noon, right before Lexa disappeared.” Kyle chowed down his slice.

  Rox felt a sense of relief. “It’s always the intimate partner.” She tried not to think about her own sister’s death, but she always came back to it. If she had only turned down the overseas assignment and left the agency instead… She’d known Jo was in trouble.

  Kyle picked up another piece. “Let’s talk about something else.”

  Rox ate a few bites and tried to think of a personal question to ask him. She remembered his mother’s surgery. “How’s your mom?”

  “Recovering nicely.” Kyle gave her a sideways look. “She’s also wondering when she’ll get to see you again.”

  How about never? Rox had agreed to have dinner with the old woman once. She’d been pleasant but boring, except when she focused annoyingly on their relationship. “Maybe someday when we’re both not so busy.”

  Kyle chuckled. “You can’t avoid her forever.”

  “Watch me.”

  Kyle had the good sense to change subjects again. “What case are you working these days?”

  The explanation would require some delicacy. “Marty and I are considering another extraction. A teenage boy who’s in a bizarre family situation.” All true.

  “That’s kind of vague.” Kyle locked eyes with her. “If you plan something illegal, please don’t tell me.”

  “Deal.” Rox reached over and touched his hand. “I would never compromise your career.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  The way he looked at her sent a warm shiver down her belly. Rox wanted more. “Can you come over tonight when you wrap up?”

  “I’ll try. But we have to find the boyfriend before he gets too far.”

  “The evidence points to him?”

  Kyle leaned in. “Robbins was shot in the head, then loaded into the trunk of her own car and pushed into a pond. No real physical evidence has surfaced, but the motive and circumstances all point to the boyfriend.”

  “She’s a reporter, so she probably—”

  Kyle cut her off. “I know. We’re looking at everything like we always do. But her notes indicate she was writing a story about the governor’s decision to close the mental hospital, so I don’t see any motive there.” He pushed the pizza pan away from himself and picked up a napkin.

  There was plenty of motive. “Robbins’ article yesterday included claims from family members that the hospital staff is abusive. Maybe you should look into that.”

  Kyle stared at her.

  Rox couldn’t stop herself. There were so many possibilities. “Did the reporter visit the hospital? I mean, if she did, what if a mental patient became obsessed with her?” Or the director decided she asked too many questions.

  Kyle shook his head, annoyed now. “It’s a locked mental institution.”

  Rox let go of the idea that a psycho had killed Lexa Robbins, but she still wanted to know everything the reporter had learned in her investigation. What if she had information that could help them free Logan? Or find the missing woman? Especially without breaking laws. “Any chance you’ll let me see a copy of the reporter’s notes?”

  “Why?” He locked eyes with her again, making her squirm in a different way.

  “I’m just curious about what she might have uncovered. People are protesting at the hospital. It’s a big deal.”

  “I’ll look into that angle. But right now, I have a boyfriend suspect to find.” Kyle stood. “Are you ready to walk out with me or can I just get moving?”

  “Go. I’ll wrap up the rest and leave in a minute.”

  He kissed her forehead, whispered, “Love you, babe,” then walked away before she could respond. Startled, Rox sat unmoving. That was the second time he’d said it since they got back together. The first time had been after sex, and she’d responded with something flirty and funny. But she didn’t know what she would say the next time. The appropriate thing was to tell him she loved him too. And she did. But she didn’t know if she was in love. Or ever would be with anyone. How she felt might be all she had to give and she didn’t want to mislead him.

  Rox went to the counter for tinfoil and decided to stop worrying. Thinking about levels of love and what the word meant to each person was a good way to ruin a relationship. She’d learned that the hard way in college and had given up dating for nearly a decade. Never again. She would tread lightly and stay in the moment.

  As she drove home, the murdered reporter kept coming to mind. What if someone at Mt. Angel had something more incriminating than the abuse to hide? What if they had killed Lexa Robbins to silence her?

  Chapter 22

  Wednesday, October 17, 9:35 a.m., Portland

  Rox pulled on dark work pants and a white button-up shirt with the name Dave on the pocket in red stitching. She’d bought it online for a previous case with the idea that almost every company in America had at least one guy named Dave working for them. She tucked her bangs under her navy-blue cap but didn’t look in the mirror. As long as she felt like Dave, the safety inspector, she could wear the plain white shirt. But the disguises made her skin crawl now. They had been easier during the magnet treatments, but she seemed to have reverted to her former inflexibility. To look more masculine, she’d also left off her makeup and flattened her boobs with a tight body suit. The straightjacket sensation was testing her limits already.

  Plus, she had another damn headache. Rubbing her temples, she walked to the kitchen and downed two aspirin. Today was critical and she needed to be fully functional. Marty’s knock was so abrupt, she jumped at the sound. She had to settle herself before she called “Clear!”

  Her stepdad hustled in, dressed identically, but his pocket said Steve, the second most overused name for guys over thirty. “You look sharp,” he commented, then chuckled. “I mean for a working man.”

  “Bite me.” The retort came out grumpier than she intended. “Sorry. I have a headache and I’m nervous.”

  He scowled. “Did you get that prescription filled?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Why the hell not?” Now he sounded grumpy—and like a bossy parent.

  “You know I’m skeptical about brain medication.”

  “Are you okay to do this?” His voice softened. “We can postpone.”

  “I’m fine. I want to get the boy out of there. The more I learn about the damn hospital the more worried I am. And not just for Logan.”

  “Let’s go. We can talk on the way.” Marty handed her a canvas belt, loaded with electrical gadgets and B&E tools like screwdrivers. “I’ll be the supervisor, so I can do all the talking. They’ve heard your voice a few times.”

  Too many! “I’m ready.”

  They headed out to the white van parked between their two cars in the shared driveway. Marty had rented it with the phony driver’s license he kept for these purposes. He wouldn’t tell her where he’d had it
made, but he’d certainly come into contact with plenty of criminals in his career. At the time, she had been preparing for her first extraction and had asked for his help. He’d jumped into the deep end with both feet. Like most cops, he was an adrenaline junkie, and maybe had a bit of ADD.

  “The decals are in the cab.” Marty climbed behind the wheel. “I miss the truck.”

  Rox got in the passenger side. “We’ll find a good deal soon.” They’d been shopping for a new cargo vehicle since they’d smashed up their last one during a wilderness extraction. “Let’s stop at the 7-11 on the corner. I need to buy more aspirin and maybe some chocolate.”

  A minute later, they parked on the side of the little market. Each grabbed a magnetic sign that said Builders Electric in big lettering and applied it to the sides of the van. Rox hurried inside to buy the pain medication, plus a Dr. Pepper. She needed more caffeine but wouldn’t drink corner-store coffee.

  On the drive down to Mt. Angel, they went over the plan a few times, then were quiet. Too much prep could work against them. Things never went exactly as outlined, and they needed to be able to improvise.

  An hour later, they turned on Recovery Lane and the concrete fortress came into sight. Rox’s pulse started to hammer, and she took long slow breaths.

  “You okay?” Marty squeezed her shoulder.

  “I will be.” After a moment, she tried to explain. “I was inside the building last week and it was hard for me. No windows and a locked exit.”

  “I understand. We’ll try to be in and out quickly.”

  Dread built up in her stomach and she didn’t know why. She’d talked to Shay Wilmont late the night before and had learned that Logan was in room twelve on the second floor of the front building. The aunt had promised to be available to take the boy today, claiming she was packed and ready to travel.

  If they succeeded in getting Logan out.

  “We’ll be fine.” Marty tried to assure her.

  Rox let out a nervous laugh. “It’s usually me telling you that.”

  Marty braked for the last turn. “We can’t both get the shakes at the same time.” He parked the van near the back of the lot, with the engine facing the exit. “Ready, Dave?”

  “Let’s do this, Steve.”

  She grabbed the tool belt, and Marty picked up the clipboard with the work order they’d created. You could find a template for just about anything online. Like last time, she’d printed the hospital’s logo from its website, then used design software to merge it with their form. They also had work receipts with Builders Electric letterhead. All of it was a little crude, but it would get them past the young receptionist. The middle-aged guy in the sweater vest was more worrisome.

  The cool air surprised Rox, and she tried not to shiver. Summer was definitely over.

  Marty noticed too. “Damn. Let’s hustle.”

  They hurried across the parking lot, then slowed as they passed a handful of protestors who stood near the front of the building. Maybe the other demonstrators had decided to take a break while they waited for a final decision. If so, they were kidding themselves. The institution would close. The governor was just stalling long enough to let the outrage die down. Rox hoped she could expose the abuse and whatever rot they were covering up before the files disappeared during the closure.

  They approached the entrance with confidence, and after a slight hesitation, the glass door slid open. Rox hung back as Marty walked up to the counter. Only the young blonde was at her desk. So far, so good.

  Marty held out his fake ID. “Steve Wilson with Builders Electric. We’re here to test your ECT equipment.”

  The receptionist blinked hard, then looked down at something on the desk. “You’re not on my list today.”

  Marty had rehearsed for that. “The safety administrator likes to conduct surprise inspections. Especially in response to patient complaints. And this facility has had several.” Calm and confident. Her stepdad was handling himself well. But she worried about him anyway. He wore tinted glasses and a cap, but otherwise his face was exposed. So was hers.

  “Here’s the work order.” Marty held out the clipboard.

  The receptionist gave it a cursory glance. “I should still ask Gene.” The blonde picked up her phone and it rang, startling her. She held up her other hand and started to say something.

  Marty cut in, sounding annoyed. “We’re on a tight schedule, and Mr. Dresden is already unhappy with this campus.”

  “All right.” She pointed at the door to the left. “Go through there, then take the elevator up to the medical unit.”

  They moved toward the entrance and a loud buzzing sounded. The lock had released. Marty pushed the handle and they stepped into a narrow hall. The door slammed shut behind them. Rox’s pulse jumped another pace. She focused on Logan instead of the solid walls and archaic dim lighting. She could do this.

  “Maybe we should skip the sabotage, grab the boy, and run,” Marty whispered as they hurried down the hall.

  Rox had been thinking the same thing. “We’ll never make it back out the security door that way. We need a little chaos.”

  They reached an intersection and slowed. A man in a beige blazer approached, and Rox tensed. Marty nodded, and the guy rounded the corner to enter the hall that led to the second building.

  Rox picked up her pace, rushing past little offices and looking for the elevator. When it appeared, she turned to Marty. “Take the stairs to the residence area and get Logan like we planned.”

  “No. We need to stay together for now and both look like we’re on task.”

  Rox whispered, “I don’t think you can get to the patients’ rooms from the medical area without coming back down.” She’d never found the blueprints, but the building was old and unusual, and she expected the worst.

  “Once we’ve blown some fuses, it shouldn’t matter.” Marty pushed the button, and they stood in front of the elevator doors, waiting for them to open.

  A woman in a white doctor’s coat stepped out of an office, appearing startled to see them. Rox, closest to her, simply nodded and turned back to the elevator. Servicemen usually weren’t chatty.

  The woman touched her arm. “Why are you here?”

  Shit! It was Dr. Carlson, whom she’d both conned and impersonated on the phone recently. Rox deepened her voice. “We’re doing a state-ordered inspection of the ECT equipment.”

  The elevator finally opened and they scooted on, hoping the doctor wouldn’t follow. Rox could feel Carlson’s eyes boring into her back. The metal doors clanged shut, and she and Marty were still alone. They glanced at each other but didn’t speak. Rox worried about cameras making audio-enhanced recordings, but Marty was just superstitious about talking on elevators.

  When they exited into a short hall, instinct made her turn left. Or maybe it was the smell. Rubbing alcohol mixed with menthol and… What was that? A scent of overheated skin? Rox shivered. She’d had electroconvulsive therapy in her final year of college. A desperate attempt to alter her brain function before she applied with the Portland Police Bureau. She’d been mildly sedated for the procedure—which was standard protocol—but afterward, she’d felt violated and confused. Supposedly, the treatment had been refined and improved since then, but this was an older facility on a limited budget.

  She strode to the end of the passage, Marty right behind her, and pushed through the double stainless-steel doors. A semi-circle lobby area was ringed by two sliding curtains and a solid door. One curtain was open, revealing a padded patient table surrounded by medical equipment: IV stand, heart monitor, and defibrillator. A fourth device on a nearby stand caught her attention. A bright blue metal box a foot and a half long with various electrical components. The shock machine.

  Next to her, Marty said, “That’s the bad boy right there.”

  Rox gave his shoulder a push. “I’ve got this. You go find Logan.”

  “I need that cart.” He pointed to the rolling cabinet under the ECT device. “Logan can
probably fit in there.”

  Rox hurried over to it, scanning for the main electrical source. A thick flat cord, similar to a dryer’s, snaked to a 220-outlet on the wall. Should she leave it juiced or not? She grabbed a large screwdriver from her tool belt.

  “No!” Marty hissed.

  Rox shoved the driver into one of the main electrical ports on the machine. A loud pop echoed in the sparse room, and a mild shockwave traveled through her body. She’d gotten worse jolts from a toaster. She turned to Marty. “I’m fine, but the machine is fried. Take the whole thing. You can say it’s going out to be repaired.”

  He glared at her but didn’t respond.

  “Go find Logan. I’ll be right behind you.” Rox looked around the room, searching for a rectangular metal plate on the wall. Not seeing one, she rushed back into the small medical lobby. Marty passed her, pushing the cart, and headed for the exit. Rox spotted the electrical panel on the front wall. In three long strides, she stood in front of it and yanked open the metal box. Two vertical rows of fuses, each with its own breaker. The fuses probably powered only specific lights and machines in this area, and she needed something building-wide. But the electricity in this panel came from a bigger source.

  Running her fingers along the top inside of the panel box, she located the main breaker and shut it off. The room went dark and the machines silent. She pulled an LED flashlight headband from her belt, secured it over her cap, and got back to work. With the screwdriver still in her hand, she pried at the back section until it came away from the wall.

  For a moment, the thick jumble of red and yellow wiring intimidated her. So much voltage! But the whole panel box and its fuses were already shut down, so she should be okay. Rox pulled on heavy gloves from her tool pouch and stared at the wiring. The tension in her body made her head pound.

  Just do it!

  Rox yanked hard on a bundle of wiring, releasing it from the secondary panel. A mild shock traveled up her arm and through her chest. She shook it off and shoved the metal plate back into place and started flipping on fuses. The panel box sputtered and little blue flames shot out.