The Curse of Hollister House

Chapter 26

The lights were bright, the air stale, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I was sure I was going to be sick, but I suppressed the urge.

“Dr. Whilton you are needed in the OR,” someone said over the loudspeaker.

“It’s going to be okay.” Naomi squeezed my hand.

“What is taking so long?” I asked for the tenth time in ten minutes.

“These things take time.”

I supposed they did. God, I hated hospitals. I’d spent as much time in one as I ever wanted to, but I couldn’t leave. Not with Cass in critical condition. “What if he doesn’t make it?”

“He will.”

“He lost a lot of blood.”

“Which is why God invented transfusions. Try to relax. You look like you are going to pass out.”

I glanced at Naomi and nodded. Passing out in an effort to escape the lights and the noise wasn’t the worst idea. I remembered the lights, the noise, the smell of vomit and blood after my own accident. I thought I was going to die. I hadn’t died as I thought I might, but there had been times during my recovery after the accident, before I came back to Foxtail Lake, that I’d wished I had.

“I wonder when Rafe will get here.”

“I don’t know. He said he’d be by when he had the chance. Here comes the doctor,” Naomi said.

I stood up on wobbly legs. She stood up next to me, still clinging to my hand. I wanted to hear what the doctor had to say, but at the same time, I didn’t. What if Cass was dead? What if the bullet that pierced his chest had ended his life?

“Deputy Wylander is out of surgery. It went well. He is still in critical yet stable condition, but barring further complications, I expect a full recovery.”

“Can I see him?” I asked.

“He is still in the recovery room. He won’t wake up for hours. I’m going to suggest the two of you go home. Get something to eat. I can call when he wakes up.”

I wanted to say no. I wanted to inform the man that I’d stay right here until I could see he was fine with my own eyes, but Naomi responded to the doctor before I was able, agreeing to his suggestion. She led me out of the hospital into the bright sunshine. I squinted against the intensity.

“How about we do as the doctor suggested and get something to eat?” Naomi asked.

“Let’s go to Gracie’s. She’ll be worried. I should check in with her, and I’m sure she’d happily make us something to eat.”

“Okay. If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

The ride to the lake house was accomplished in silence. After Naomi had gotten hold of Rafe and told him my story, he’d tracked down Underwood’s address. When he arrived at his home, he’d found Underwood gone and Cass in a pool of blood on his front porch. He’d been shot in the chest and had lost a lot of blood by the time the ambulance arrived. I remembered the attendant saying that it would be a miracle if he made it to the hospital alive. Thankfully, in this instance, we’d gotten our miracle.

“How is Cass?” Gracie asked the moment we pulled up.

“He’s out of surgery,” I answered. “Stable according to the doctor, but still in recovery.”

“And Underwood?”

“Rafe went after him,” Naomi said.

“He’s a good deputy. He’ll get him,” Gracie said as if to convince herself. “Can I get you girls some breakfast?”

“Breakfast would be great,” Naomi answered.

Personally, I didn’t think I could eat, but if I didn’t, Gracie would worry, so maybe a few bites. When I entered the kitchen, I found Tom on the phone. I wasn’t sure who he was speaking to, but he seemed to be asking about the status of Underwood and the case in general. Everything in my being prayed they’d catch the monster who had killed three little girls and almost killed Cass.

I excused myself and went into the bathroom, where I sobbed out all the tears I’d been holding at bay. I cried for Stella, and Hillary, and Tracy, and Cass. I cried for the loss of my own innocence and the hell the families of all the victims had gone through. When I returned to the kitchen, everyone was smiling.

“They got him,” Tom announced. “The state police got that bastard, and now he can rot in jail as he should have been doing for the past twenty years.”

I half-expected Gracie to admonish Tom for using the B word—she was very anti cussing—but in this instance, she must have felt it was warranted because she simply smiled and hugged him.

“Did he confess?”

“No, but they found a hand trowel in the trunk of his car. They are sure it is the one used to carve claw marks in Tracy’s face.”

“Why would anyone do that?” Naomi asked.

“Maybe so they didn’t have to look at the face of the person they’d just killed and deal with the guilt I have to assume even a monster would feel,” Gracie said.

Perhaps Gracie was right. It did seem like Underwood was obsessed with Stella. Maybe he was obsessed with all of them. Maybe he strangled them in a fit of rage and then disfigured them to hide his guilt even from himself.