Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Matt
Icould insist he gets in my rental SUV, but I’m tired of the struggle. He’s fucking stubborn. Instead, I follow at a distance to make sure he gets to the hospital in one piece. I had no idea how severe his addictions were.
In the face of losing Eden, his answer was to get high and shitfaced.
It pisses me the fuck off. Not enough to give up on him… yet.
Once I see Blaine enter the hospital doors, I hightail it back to the Center. It’s been chaos for the last day and a half.
Someone tipped off the media about the documentary, the disappearances, and a survivor of the Camp Carroll massacre being housed at the Center. We’ve been holding off national news outlets.
Although we can keep them off the Center property, they’ve now staked out across the street on land that belongs to the county. It’s been a fiasco.
The director has shifted his opinion on the attention, now relishing getting the Center noticed. In a weird turnabout, Dr. Hart is apprehensive about continuing the documentary. I’m not sure if he’s worried about Belmont College axing him or if he gives a shit about his reputation.
“Sir, could you give us a statement?” one of the pushier journalists shouts my way when I climb out of my vehicle in the overflowing parking lot of the Center.
“I’m with Dateline… would you be able to answer a couple of questions?
” That catches the attention of half dozen other crews yelling my way.
I shut them all out continuing towards the building.
Finding everyone waiting in the Director’s office, I quickly shut the door behind me. Dr. Hart’s face is bright red, and I catch the end of an argument with the director that is a continuation of the previous one.
“You deem it ethical to push on when you were trying to put injunctions in place before to keep some of the survivors from the documentary? What’s the bottom line here?” Dr. Hart asks.
Dr. Wallen leans forward to speak, but the director waves him off. “The documentary isn’t the cause of the problems as we see it. It’s the presence of the FBI and a possible murderer.”
Dr. Wallen gives a startled look at me and my supervisor.
“What’s he referring to?” Dr. Wallen asks, visibly paling.
This is where the bullshit artist I call my boss excels.
“He doesn’t know what he’s referring to because it’s merely gossip.
Mr. Hutton has been cleared of any wrongdoing in the massacre.
He’s a victim, not a suspect.” Gary puffs his chest out and gestures with his chin towards the director.
“It seems like we’ve found the person who leaked the stories to the press. ”
Sputtering the director speaks up, “Absolutely not. I resent the allegation that I’d do such a thing. In fact, I wouldn’t put it past the producers of the documentary. It gives their film more visibility.” Gary snickers at him.
Dr. Wallen shakes his head no.
“We’re not getting anywhere by pointing fingers here,” I say, trying to get us back on track.
I’m not a fan of the director. Wallen at least seems to care about the survivors.
“I suggest that the Center restricts visitors, we go back over the staff backgrounds, and you house the graduate students elsewhere for the remainder of the study.”
The grumbling in the room intensifies as everyone argues about how to proceed.
“Belmont will never go for that,” Dr. Hart weighs in.
“We had you do a criminal history check on the staff already,” the pompous director says.
“Yes, no visitors for now,” Dr. Wallen agrees at least in part.
“What’s being done about Ms. Davis and the missing survivor?” Dr. Hart turns to my boss and implores, “I’m responsible for the safety of my students. I want to know what the FBI is doing.”
“I can reassure you that we’ve got a team of people investigating this. Local authorities have their resources looking into it, also. Mr. Marcus could be extremely instrumental in all of this. We have agents stationed at the hospital to speak to him as soon as he’s able.”
Gary goes over the ways the FBI is investigating but I know the truth. We are at a loss. Rick was quick to say that he felt Caleb was responsible for all of it.
I couldn’t disagree more. Socially awkward, and na?ve, but not a danger to anyone. Not anymore.
Dr. Wallen, Dr. Hart, and my boss leave. Alone with the director, I decide to ask him about his hiring practices. “You didn’t hire anyone after we combed through your employees last May, right?” So help me God, if he overlooked the protocols the FBI handed down to him, I’m going to lose my temper.
“Of course not. That’s made things even more tough on the Center.
We’ve lost half a dozen employees over the things being whispered about around here.
People going missing, rumored druggings, and then the pressure of filming a documentary.
” He sighs, removes his glasses, to rub his eyes.
“It’s even scared off a few residents in the last couple of weeks. ”
“I can appreciate the inconveniences to the Center, but it was all outlined with you prior to taking in Hutton. You were supposed to educate your staff about safe practices while he’s here.
What about the residents? Anyone that wasn’t investigated by the FBI, who joined the Wellness Center after we checked on them? ”
The director shuffles through some files in his desk before pulling a couple of sheets out. “We had a few last-minute survivors that came in the week before Hutton arrived. Their names were sent to the FBI to check into.”
He shoves a sheet of paper at me with the names: Clarence Reilly, Ilyana Vait, Tempest Michaels, and Shawn Bailess.
“Did you get confirmation that the FBI received these names to look into?” I’m trying to reign my anger in. One of these people could be the source of all our problems.
“Yes, I did,” he says arrogantly. “Don’t try to make this a Center issue. This lies squarely on you. All of you.” He gestures wildly. “The FBI didn’t take the proper precautions, but of course none of you will take that accountability.”
I lean back and nod at him, hiding my contempt behind a professional calm. “You’re right. We weren’t prepared for the things that have happened. We won’t be making that mistake again.”
All the pent-up frustration, worry, and devastation over Eden missing have me feeling wired.
I’m almost shaking when I make my way to Hutton’s room to speak to Rick.
Staff start to smile my way, then think better of it.
My hand brushes the sheet with the names the director gave me that is folded up in my pocket.
It doesn’t matter if he says they were looked into. I’ll be meeting with each one.
“That was quick,” Rick remarks, pocketing his phone as I key into Hutton’s room. “Did you get anywhere with them?”
Hutton is doing pull ups on the bathroom doorway. He’s listening. He always is.
“We’ll see.” I toss the keycard onto the dresser by the television. “Since Hutton is clear of his charges, you’re on your own with his detail again.”
Hutton’s head whips my way, while he eases himself to the floor. Rick scratches his cheek as it reddens. “You’re quitting? I thought we had an understanding.”
“We did.” I lean against the wall. “I’m not quitting. I talked to Gary, and he’s reassigned me to another case.”
“You went over my head to Gary?” Rick’s lips thin as he glares at me. “I thought we were going to help each other out until the detail was over. Completely over.”
“We should step into the hallway to finish this conversation,” I warn Rick. Hutton doesn’t need to know what case I’m reopening. In fact, he doesn’t need to have most of the information he’s gleaned from us while we’ve been ‘protecting’ him. “It’s confidential information.”
“You’re reopening the Lassiter disappearances,” Hutton says in a monotone voice. Rick shuts his eyes sighing.
When Rick reopens his eyes, he rolls them at me. Then proceeds to steer me from the room, as Hutton says behind us. “You’re just predictable.”