CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Michaela
Sitting in the hallways outside Holden’s door was an exercise in patience. With my head angled back against the wall and my eyelids closing with the need for sleep, I was too agitated to remain still for long, yet my body refused to allow me to pace around. Exhaustion was overtaking me, my thoughts chaotic while my brain protested the fact I hadn’t seen dreamland in almost twenty-four hours.
Needing something to keep me in the present while the attorney and Angela walked in to speak with Holden, I kept my eyes trained on the police officer outside his door. Every time the son of a bitch looked at me, I smiled, mocking him for the losing battle I knew he was fighting when it came to keeping Holden for much longer. It was obvious they’d jumped to the conclusion that Holden knew more than he’d admitted. And the truth was that we both were lying through our teeth. But I refused to let Jack’s parting act from this world become a crime that would lay the blame at Holden’s feet.
Was it wrong to lie? Possibly. But when weighing the morality of my decision against the lack of morality in how Holden had been treated by our town since he was a child, I had to side with what I felt in my heart was the right thing to do.
After a few minutes, the attorney walked out of Holden’s room and I jumped up to hear what he had to say. He simply smiled at me and patted me on the shoulder, asking me to sit back down and relax while he made a few phone calls.
Relax. Yeah, sorry. That wasn’t going to happen.
Tapping my foot against the floor tiles, I leaned against a wall with the fear that sitting down again may lead to falling asleep. I had already yawned a hundred times and wasn’t willing to risk missing the moment Holden was finally freed for me to check on him. It hadn’t occurred to me until after his arrest how deeply he’d burrowed himself into my heart. What I felt for Holden was far deeper than anything I’d felt for Jack or other boys I’d dated in my past. My previous relationships had always been about the beginning, the racing heart when I saw them, the butterflies in my stomach that seemed to migrate away or die off once enough time had passed for me to learn that what I’d felt for those people was excitement rather than anything truly lasting.
For Holden, the butterflies were still there, but the wind generated by their beating wings was more like a hurricane than a gentle breeze. It was undeniable to me that I genuinely loved the man locked behind that hospital door, that I would do anything or be anything if it meant he could reach his true potential.
Maybe that was one of the hidden meanings of loving another person: Your life is no longer lived solely to achieve your own dreams, but to find happiness and value in helping them achieve theirs, as well.
Within love, there is no room for selfishness or self-centeredness. To love is to blend two souls, neither one able to rest until both are nurtured and given room to grow.
I hadn’t learned that lesson by watching my parents. My mother and father were too concerned with their own needs to truly care if the other person was happy. And in my relationship with Jack, I’d been pushed aside for his desires, his needs, his misguided pursuit of the greatness he would never achieve.
It wasn’t until Holden that I learned that in a bond where two people cared for each other, happiness could be found when they both understand that to look out for the happiness of your partner was to trust your partner would look out for yours.
I had so much trust in Holden. I could only hope that after this current problem was all said and done, I will have proven that he could trust me just as much.
Footsteps sounded down the quiet hall and I wrenched my neck to look, the hope that it was the attorney returning with good news dying as soon as I saw a man I didn’t recognize. With black hair peppered with silver, the man was dressed in khaki slacks, black shoes, and a black coat dusted with snow. His eyes met mine from across the distance, kindness radiating from them as he approached.
He didn’t need to check the room number to know this was Holden’s room. The policeman stationed outside the door was proof enough. After glancing at the guard, the man turned to me and extended his hand. “Hello, I’m Doctor Lucas Silva. Are you Angela, by chance?”
Shaking my head, I quickly realized this was the man who’d paid for the attorney for both Holden and me. “No, Angela is inside with Holden. I’m Michaela.”
His smile brightened. “I hope Mr. Grinshaw was able to help you, Michaela. He’s the best I know.”
Matching his grin, I shook his hand. “I wouldn’t be standing here without him. He was able to get me out of the police station in thirty minutes flat.”
Soft laughter shook Dr. Silva’s shoulders. “Yes, well, he’s a good man who loves what he does. And he’s been eyeing Tranquil Falls for a while now. You and Holden happened to be the first case he could legitimately use to counter the corruption within its police force.”
A throat cleared behind us, and we both turned to see the police officer glaring our direction. I scowled, but Dr. Silva merely smiled. Returning his attention to me, he touched my arm as if to lead me away from Holden’s door. I resisted, at first, but when he explained he preferred to speak away from curious ears, I walked with him.
Led to another room, I walked inside the dim interior, turning just as Dr. Silva opened the door and flicked a switch to illuminate the space. Directing me to sit down, he dragged a chair over to sit opposite me. It was obvious by his expression that he was tired, but there was also a keen determination behind his eyes.
“We have several different issues occurring at the same time, Michaela. One, I’m sure you’re aware of, is the biased intentions of the police investigating both you and Holden for the disappearance of that boy. Another is information I’ve had for several years that has bothered me since patients presented with strange complaints. And the third, and perhaps the most troublesome at the moment, is the truth about Holden and his sister. I’m hoping you can help me with all these issues, if not through legal means, but by providing me information that will help me remedy all three.”
Confused where he was going with this, I asked what I believed was the most pressing question. “What happened to Delilah? And are you aware that Holden still believes she’s alive?”
His expression fell, true concern floating across his gaze as the corners of his lips turned down, the perfect posture of his body slumping back against his chair. “I wasn’t aware, per se, but I’ve had my concerns. Although I was surprised to hear from my former nurse tonight about Holden being in the hospital, I wasn’t blatantly shocked when I learned that he hadn’t accepted his sister’s death. I’d assumed as much two years ago after she passed, but I had few resources at my disposal to help him. Unfortunately, the laws in this state make it difficult to counter mental health problems, those occurring genetically or as a result of head trauma, without a patient’s consent, unless of course the patient presents as a danger to themself or other people.”
Wringing my hands in my lap, I stared at him, the exhaustion I’d felt earlier all but gone as worry coursed through my veins and forced my heart to increase in pace. “I’m not sure what you mean. Are you saying Holden has mental issues?”
He crossed his legs at the knee, his kind eyes holding mine. “I’m not sure. I’d like to hear about any unusual behavior you may have observed before I can even begin to decide what we’re dealing with.”
A breath escaped my lungs, shaky and filled with so much tension that it was bleeding into the room, the four walls suddenly closing in and oppressive. “When I first went to Holden’s house, he told me his sister was alive. She wasn’t there, obviously, but he said she was visiting family for the holidays. I had no reason to believe it wasn’t true. Nobody in town really knew what happened to Delilah. There wasn’t a grave by her parents or anything, so I just assumed Holden was telling the truth.”
“Go on,” he softly prodded, the details I was giving him being logged and analyzed behind his kind eyes.
“It wasn’t until Delilah came home that I noticed she wasn’t actually there. Holden insisted she was, but I haven’t seen her. If what I’ve learned since coming to the hospital is true, Delilah didn’t survive the injuries of her accident, so I think it’s safe to assume Holden is hallucinating. Right? Which would mean Holden has a mental illness?”
Dr. Silva gave my question some thought before asking, “Did you ever witness Holden speaking to his sister? Or to anybody who wasn’t there in front of him?”
I shook my head. “No.”
He nodded. “Then it’s impossible to determine whether Holden is hallucinating or simply suffering from a delusion, based solely on what you’ve told me.”
My brows tugged together. “Isn’t that the same thing?”
“Not necessarily,” he answered softly. “One is the inability to distinguish between what is real and what is not. Seeing or hearing something that isn’t there and believing it’s real would be a hallucination. A delusion, on the other hand, is a belief somebody has, despite evidence pointing to the contrary. It’s possible that Holden is hallucinating, which led to a long term delusion that his sister never died. However, a delusion would not create a hallucination. Given Holden’s previous head injury, I’m inclined to believe hallucinations may have played into a longstanding delusion. But without testing, I can’t be sure of the exact cause. What has he told you about his sister?”
Thinking back, I remembered the conversation I had with Holden about Delilah. It pained me to remember how upset he’d been when telling me about her problems. “He said she was afraid to go outside. And that she wouldn’t seek treatment for her injuries. He also said that she never matured beyond the date her parents died and that she waited for them to come home despite being told they’d died.” Pausing, I tried to remember all of it, a detail floating up that I didn’t think was important, but caused Dr. Silva’s eyebrows to lift when hearing it. “He also said Delilah had moments where she spaced out entirely. Like she was awake, but not there, if you know what I mean?”
Scratching at his chin, he sat up in his seat. “That’s interesting. It almost sounds like he’s transferring his own symptoms onto his perceived sister.” Dr. Silva sighed, “I’m not a psychologist, by any means. My specialty is neurology. But if there is a physical cause to his problem, I should be able to find it. I just need his cooperation.”
I sat back in my seat. “How can he not know Delilah is dead? Wasn’t there a body? I mean, death is a physical thing. There is undeniable evidence. How can a mind just skip over that?”
He locked his eyes with mine. “Holden never saw the body. He was contacted by phone regarding his sister’s passing. Unfortunately, it happened when I wasn’t at the hospital to intervene. By the time I learned of Delilah’s death, Holden had already been informed and asked to make arrangements for the body. The hospital never heard from him again. I tried calling him several times and even went to his house to speak to him, but he never answered the door. After a week, I grew concerned and contacted the police for a wellness check. They did very little to confirm he was of sound mind. After that, my hands were tied. It’s like I said, as physicians, we’re given very few options unless a person is a threat to themselves or others. So, after the police contacted me to say they’d met with him and determined he wasn’t a legal threat, I contacted social services. They couldn’t help me either.”
Tears welled in my eyes. “Do you think he snapped or something? When he learned she passed?”
His lips pulled into a thin line. “Possibly. I’m not sure. He may have suffered another seizure from the stress of learning she passed, and the seizure may have caused another head injury if he fell. Or, this could have nothing to do physically with his brain, but have everything to do with an emotional response. Unless I speak to him and conduct testing, I won’t know for sure.”
The tears slid down my cheeks. “What happened to Delilah’s body?”
Sitting back in his seat, he scrubbed his palm down his face. “She would have been cremated and disposed of in a pauper’s grave.”
“A what?”
“It’s a field where the ashes of unclaimed bodies are spread together as a mass burial. There are no plots or markers. I couldn’t let that happen to her...or to Holden. So, I pulled some strings that weren’t exactly legal and paid to have the body cremated. I’ve held onto the ashes hoping that Holden would come forward someday to ask for them.”
“Thank you for that,” I croaked. Barely able to breathe past the sorrow invading every cell in my body, I asked, “What do we do next? And what about the other issues?”
Dr. Silva sighed again, the long exhalation of air pregnant with a toxic mix of emotions. “We tell Holden. And we convince him to let me help him by testing to see what is causing the hallucinations. As to the other issues, I don’t know what can be done. I’ve been trying to get help for years, an investigation into a town that seems to have several problems.” His gaze met mine. “Do you know anything about the parties in the town? The ones thrown by the high school students.”
Grimacing, I swiped a tear from my cheek and nodded my head. “Yes. I’ve been to many of them. My ex-boyfriend, the one whose disappearance is being blamed on Holden, he often bought drugs for the parties. Why?”
A stern line cut the skin between his eyes. “Did you see anything unusual at those parties? Anything that concerned you?”
Nodding again, I confessed, “The drugs were used on the girls in order to get them in bed. I didn’t fully understand exactly what was happening until I’d almost graduated high school. I thought the girls were consenting, but now, I’m not so sure. Jack and his friends started...”
My body shuddered to think about what I’d witnessed.
“His friends made it a game to pass the girls around, without their permission.”
“That’s what I thought. I was told by a friend of mine in the clinic that girls had arrived needing pregnancy tests and requesting STD tests. They’d admitted they weren’t exactly sure who they’d slept with. My friend pushed for them to go to the police, but the girls were frightened. They didn’t believe anybody would help them. I called the State Police several times to ask them to investigate, but without a girl willing to come forward, they said they couldn’t help.”
A light bulb went off over my head, an idea that would benefit not just the town, but Holden and me, as well. “I could come forward. And I already have a friend contacting other girls to come forward, too. But could we get it started with just me? I know a lot more than even the girls that were used. Jack would never let me do the drugs they gave the other girls, so I was always aware and saw more than they thought I saw.”
He scratched his chin, a habit I noticed meant he was considering some thought. “It could be a starting point, perhaps enough to get the State Police to look into the local police. If you could find more girls that were actually victims, then that would be helpful.”
Nodding, I said, “I’ll work on it as soon as Holden and I are home. Anything to stop the town from hurting him more. He didn’t have anything to do with Jack’s disappearance.”
Wrinkling his brow, he appeared to have more questions, but chose not to ask them. Instead, he glanced at his watch. “We should go see if Holden’s been released. I think speaking to him first is the best step for us to take now.”
Standing, he extended a hand to help me from my seat, and with his hand lightly on my back, he led me from the room. By the time we reached Holden’s door, it was to find the police gone, the door open and Angela and the attorney standing inside quietly speaking to Holden.
Angela turned as we approached, her fingers lightly touching the attorney’s arm. “I think we should give these two a minute alone.”
Mr. Grinshaw glanced my direction before nodding his head.
As soon as he moved, my eyes locked with Holden’s. I couldn’t stop the tears that came on like a deluge of all the fear, sorrow, worry and pain I felt inside.