Missing: The Body of Evidence Page 18

  Nancy scrawled her signature, ripping at the paper, and charged out of the room. The last words from Logan on the subject echoed down the corridor.

  ‘Don’t even think about making your own investigations, do you hear?’

  Waiting for the elevator, it crossed her mind it would be quicker and more appropriate to jump out of the window. Logan ghosted beside her and into the elevator as the doors retracted. She sensed him drilling holes in her head with a gaze, but blanked him. As the elevator hit ground floor, Nancy went through her ritual of smoothing down her jacket and swaying her neck. Each roll of her head made her head spin. At the ping of the elevator door sliding open, she marched out toward the automatic glass door exit.

  ‘Have a nice day,’ rang in her ears from the girl at reception.

  The migraine intensified at what she took to be a sarcastic insult, and she squeezed her eyes closed, wishing she could open them to find herself in a better place.

  A sound exploded in front of her. She felt hands grab her shoulder, at the same time she heard a woman’s scream and the next she could recall was lying face down on the floor and people shouting.

  Chapter 42

  All around, people were shouting and scurrying for cover. Nancy slowly raised her head and looked in the direction of the exit in the foyer at headquarters. There were piles of broken glass from the door outside the building and spread around toward the sidewalk, but there was nothing on the floor between her and the exit. Hands gripped her under her arms and someone lifted her effortlessly to her feet. Her immediate thoughts were that it could have been a bomb or maybe someone firing off a round at the building.

  ‘You okay?’

  It was only when she heard his voice that she realized that Logan had helped her to her feet. Security guards, their guns drawn, charged around barking orders.

  ‘The door jammed when it shattered,’ Logan called out to one of the guards. ‘No one fired a gun in here and the glass is on the outside.’ He turned to Nancy. ‘The door seemed to resonate, before it exploded.’

  The how and why was of little interest to her in the scheme of what she faced. She ignored his attempt at striking up a conversation. The guards holstered their guns and one of them radioed for someone to clean up the mess.

  ‘No, I’m not okay.’

  Nancy brushed dust marks off her pants, turned and walked out through the exit, crunching glass underfoot. Her head throbbed, as if with every footstep, she was banging her forehead against a wall. Heightened senses increased the volume of every sound around her. The cacophony of exaggerated sounds offended her hearing as she made her way to her car. A sigh more in the way of a groan heaved from her mouth. The sense of relief that she experienced soon changed to anger when she climbed into her car and closed the door to the world outside. Clenched fists hammered the steering wheel until her hands felt numb, and she hoped the numbness would spread to her mind to stop her thinking. She sat back, closed her eyes, clasped her cheeks with the palms of her hands and had a yoga moment, taking slow deliberate breaths. The pounding in her brain gradually subsided.

  At the turn of the ignition key, Nancy engaged first gear and set off aimlessly along West Street. Going back to her apartment alone, she decided was not an option. With two hours to kill before her brain scan, she had the need to share her situation with someone. But there was no one that came to mind with whom she could share the shame of the situation and who would back her innocence one-hundred percent. Then someone came to mind. Someone who would listen to her ever word and share her angst, and make no judgment in return, but only send out vibes of unremitting love.

  Chapter 43

  Nancy cruised in her car along the slow lane of the freeway. The pain of being on the opposite side of the demarcation line, as a suspect, made Nancy feel as though her veins had tightened and her blood flow was looking for an escape route. It wasn’t as though the deposit into her account was a mistake. It was the motive for doing so that was lacking, from her point of view, but obviously not from Brogan’s take of the circumstances. There had to be a strong reason why she wasn’t locked up awaiting trial, but reasoning escaped her scrambled thought process.

  A vision of Kyle planting a kiss on her cheek before she left his bedside at the hospital, and the look of admiration in his eyes, rolled through her mind. Her eyes moistened, as she ran through a multitude of scenarios as to how they would break the news to him of her plight, and his different reactions. The last notion made her shudder as she imagined a picture of him mouthing off to Logan.

  ‘Lucky escape.’

  The sound of car horns brought her to her senses as she realized she had drifted over the line and she swerved back into her lane. There wasn’t time to signal as the sign for her turnoff flashed by her vision and she swung hard right. The front left hand tyre clipped the barrier at the intersection to the overpass and the steering wheel spun, breaking her hold of the wheel. A quick glance in the rear-view mirror and she slammed down hard on the brake pedal. The car came to a screeching halt and straddled two lanes with the engine stalled. Her entire body trembled and she could hear her heart pounding.

  A loud blast of a Claxon horn, followed by the hissing of air brakes and a clunk made her jump. She snatched a glance in the direction of the noises, to see the driver of a truck leaning out of his window and cursing obscenities at her. Nancy fixed him a glare and not taking her gaze from him, she restarted her engine.

  The truck’s windshield shattered, which gave her a fleeting mild shock. She snickered at the dark thought that a clipped stone from a passing vehicle had paid him back for his foul-mouthed rant. The driver of the truck, jumped out of his cab, removed his based ball cap and scratched his head. For some strange reason he kicked his front tyre as if kicking his dog for something the cat had done. She turned her attention away from him, manoeuvred her car and set off over the overpass.

  The sign over the gates of her destination came into view. Driving through the entrance, she followed the signs for the parking lot. Nancy parked and headed along the pathway. She knew exactly where she was going, even though it had been five years since her last visit. Grasping at the hope her presence would not seem hypocritical; a balancing thought struck her…who else would know.

  The cemetery sprawled over a large area and it took fifteen minutes to arrive at her mom’s tombstone. Nancy knelt on the moist grass and took the decaying bunch of flowers from the vase. Nancy looked at the words on the card. ‘Happy anniversary. All my love, your devoted husband, Doug.’ The words of affection from her dad surprised Nancy.

  Nancy placed the dying flowers at the side of the grave, but took the card and put it under the vase.

  ‘Sorry, Mom. I’m too messed up to have remembered to bring fresh flowers.’

  She ran her fingers across the inscription of her mom’s name.

  A touch brushed her shoulder and she snapped her head around. The figure of an old man surprised her so much that she lost her bearings and in her rush to stand, she fell on the grass landing on her backside.

  ‘Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,’ said the old man, and held out his hand to help her to her feet, while holding a bunch of flowers in his other hand.

  She gladly accepted his assistance, sprang to her feet and brushed the dew from her pants.

  ‘I heard what you said. Take these.’

  He split his bunch of flowers in two and held out half of them in the clutch of his arthritic knurled hand.

  ‘No, I couldn’t.’

  ‘Edna wouldn’t mind, besides your mom and Edna are probably sitting on top of their tombstones right now, chatting away as friends. Go on take them.’

  His gentle smile was infectious and he thrust the flowers at her in a way that it would have been impossible to refuse.

  ‘Thank you. You’re very kind.’

  ‘It costs nothing, just a warm heart and besides, I need a few brownie points... for you know?’ The old man said, and pointed a crooked finger skyward and
chuckled.

  ‘I could do with a few brownie points of my own in the here and now, never mind the hereafter.’ They both laughed.

  ‘So, I’m guessing you’re here, hoping your mom will give you some comfort?’

  ‘You could say that.’

  ‘Thought so, I can see it in your troubled eyes. Problem is they don’t talk back here, they just listen, but it does help. You’d need to talk to a spiritualist if you really need to hear what they think. It worked for me. Anyway, must go or Edna will think I’m chatting you up for a date.’

  He turned and hobbled away, chuckling, with his frail legs at odds with the strength in his arms from when he pulled her to her feet. Nancy felt warm inside at his gesture and arranged the fresh flowers in the vase.

  Nancy knew the old man was right. All she could do was to hope that her mom would somehow hear her pleas for help and guidance. She stood before the tombstone and closed her eyes with her hands clasped in prayer.

  If you can hear me, Mom, I love you. Please guide my through the crap I’m going through, and if you can, get into that mind of Dad, please tell him I need him to come through. I’ve no one but Dad to turn to and I’m dreading telling him what’s happened.

  In the stillness of the day, long forgotten memories of the happy times spent with her mom flooded her inner mind. A last glimpse of her mom, sitting in a chair at the side of her hospital bed and taking her in her arms, was as clear as if it had just happened and the words she spoke on that day reverberated in her head.

  I’ll always love you, Nance, and just remember: whatever happens, I’ll always be there for you.

  A wailing howl escaped from her mouth as if a lone lost-wolf was trying to find its pack. Tears rolled unashamedly down her cheeks, until she could sob no more. As quickly as the grief had struck her, warmth enveloped her and the tears subsided. She wiped away the tears with her sleeve, blew a kiss in the direction of the tombstone, ran her hands down her jacket, swayed her head from side to side and marched back to her car.

  After the scan, I need to talk to Dad and to make him listen.

  Somehow, the dread of visiting her dad, made her fear of the MRI scan a minor diversion in her day.

  Chapter 44

  Her throat tightened, she took out a tissue from her pocket and wiped the sweat from her palms. Fear of the MRI scan procedure took hold at the forefront of her mind. Nancy hesitated as she approached the automatic glass door at the entrance to the hospital. Smashed glass twice in a day was, in her mind, a coincidence, but all the same, it made her wary of entering. The door slid open and two nurses exited. She quickened her pace and slipped through the entrance. Nancy stood in line, three deep, and waited her turn.

  The middle-aged woman at reception greeted her with a glance over her spectacles.

  ‘Yes?’

  Nancy took the appointment letter and handed it over the counter. The cleaners had been a little on the overly zealous side with the chemicals, and her stomach tightened in a knot. The woman typed Nancy’s details into her computer.

  ‘Insurance card.’

  She handed over the card. The woman smiled as if the card were a badge of honour and handed her a printed form to sign. Nancy signed the form, and the woman returned her card and letter.

  ‘Fourth floor, room four-zero-eight.’

  ‘Got it.’

  ‘Next.’

  Palpitations started as she entered the elevator. A bead of sweat ran down from her forehead, onto her nose, and dripped onto the floor. Nancy wiped her forehead with her sleeve as the door opened and she stepped out into the corridor. Her head started to pound behind the socket of her left eye as she found the room number. The number zoomed in and out of vision and she gripped the door handle for support. If the confines of the elevator ride had brought her to the point of anxiousness, then she dreaded to think what her reaction would be to finding herself enclosed in the scan machine. Gently, she tapped on the door, opened it, and walked into a reception area. A young woman in a white-starched overall greeted her with a friendly smile.

  ‘My name is Sandra. Do you have the appointment letter?’

  Nancy handed her the letter.

  ‘Don’t worry, it’s painless.’

  ‘Does it show that much?’

  ‘Afraid so. Please fill in this form for any past illness, allergies, or surgery. Although it mentions it on the form, I have to ask if you have a pacemaker fitted, or any other metal inserts.’

  ‘No, none at all.’

  ‘Good, when you’ve completed the form, leave your jacket in the cubicle and I’ll look after your purse. Just make sure your pants pockets are empty and you’ve removed all jewellery.’

  Nancy leaned on the counter, completed the checks on the form and signed. Sandra took her arm and guided her to the cubicle. The pounding in her head intensified, she sat, cradled her head in her hands and then tugged at her hair.

  ‘Are you okay in there?’ Sandra asked.

  ‘Yeah, coming.’

  Her heartbeat raced even more vigorously as she exited the cubicle, and Sandra led her to the scan room.

  ‘I’ll hand you over to Jim, our radiographer,’ Sandra said, and passed Nancy’s completed form to Jim.

  Her legs weakened at the sight of the scanner, which looked to her like a giant elongated clothes drying machine, but open at both ends.

  ‘Your hands are trembling; don’t be afraid, I’ll talk you through it.’

  A cold wave washed through her body. His words did little to settle her anxiety.

  ‘I’m not sure I can do this.’

  ‘They all say that, trust me, you’ll be fine.’

  The radiologist studied the form.

  ‘Okay, nothing to worry about here. It will all be over soon. How long it will take depends how many runs we need, but each run only takes a few minutes. All you need to do is lie still on the movable examination table, and I’ll slide a device over your head to keep your brain in the correct position. I’ll be in another room with our technologist, but I’ll be able to hear, see and to speak to you at all times. So, when you hear a voice, don’t worry, the machine won’t have fried your brain, and you won’t have died and gone to heaven, it will be me over the speakers. I may ask you to hold your breath. I may also want you to look at some pictures on a screen if the initial images warrant further investigation. Any questions?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Good, on the table please.’

  Nancy climbed onto the table and lay down. The mention of fried brain gave her the idea she would travel through the cylinder and come out the other end transformed into a Southern Fried Chicken and her thought did nothing to calm her nerves.

  ‘Just another inch this way.’

  He adjusted her into position and then moved a device over her head.

  ‘Okay, that’s perfect. Now, please don’t move. When the machine starts, the table will feed you slowly into the scanner. Back soon.’

  The sound of the scan-room door closing left her alone with her fears. The machine started to power up to speed and slowly the table moved into the scanner. Her head felt hot and she could feel her heartbeat pounding in her chest. Try as she might to stop it, her body trembled.

  ‘Please, be still and hold your breath,’ echoed in her ears.

  ‘My head feels hot.’

  ‘That’s normal. Now hold your breath.’

  Nancy fixed her vision on the monitor’s blank screen, which only induced a trance like state as the horrific events of the weekend flashed through her mind.

  A tapping and thudding noise exploded in her hearing. She screamed.

  ‘What’s happening, the noise. Get me out.’

  ‘Please just be calm, hold your breath once more. The sound is just the magnetic coils.’

  The tapping noise increased into a grinding explosion of sound, and violent vibrations from the machine shook her body, as if an earthquake had struck. Over the roar of the banging and clunking, she heard someone shout.


  ‘Good God! Power down, get her out, now.’

  The next thing she could remember was being hauled off the table, bundled out of the room and onto a chair.

  ‘Nurse, take look at her.’

  Sandra rushed over and escorted her to a recovery room. She helped her to climb onto the gurney and checked her pulse.

  ‘What happened?’

  The face of the radiologist peered over her.

  ‘Machine malfunction. First time ever.’

  She heard another male voice.

  ‘Jim, the damn thing went into reverse as if the polarity had changed before it ground to a halt. We can’t do any more scans until maintenance has taken a look.’

  ‘Reverse polarity? Impossible,’

  Nancy felt her headache subside along with the pounding in her chest, until she felt normal.

  ‘How do you feel?’ asked Sandra and rechecked her pulse.

  ‘Shook up, but fine. Everything in my vision was in black and white when I was hustled out of the room, I can’t wait to get the hell outta here.’

  The nurse threw a look at Jim.

  ‘Pulse is normal. Wait here and I’ll bring you a coffee and some cookies.’

  Nancy swung her legs over the gurney and stood.

  ‘I’ll be fine, no need for coffee. Did you get any results?’ Nancy asked Jim.

  ‘Not enough images to make a report. We’ll need to see you again, but next time we’ll need to arrange sedation. It didn’t help when one of the monitors showed a massive amount of off the scale activity on the left-hand side of your brain, but I assume it was a result of the machine malfunction. Then the monitor stopped working and developed a purple patch over the initial images.’

  Nancy laughed. ‘Sedation. It’ll have to be enough to put me asleep.’ Her laugh ended abruptly as she pondered his last words.

  Purple patch? Positor! The monitor in the interview room... the television in the cabin and now this. Two is coincidence; three is stretching it, just like the incidents with fire.