The Doctor Sneak Peek Page 3

  Just to be safe, he stayed in for a few weeks after everyone retired for the night and tried his best to behave.

  To be perfect.

  Yes, Miss Haggerty had it coming, so he decided to use food as a weapon of sorts against her.

  He had simply ladled out Miss Haggerty’s portion and then dumped the drugs into the pot afterward.

  Miss Haggerty’s bowl had gone out first and he had spit in it for good measure before taking it to the large table the adults all sat at.

  To keep it straight, Oliver opened up a can of chicken noodle for the kids, stating that there hadn’t been enough of the tomato.

  No one cared and he got the bowls out to the social workers first and then to the kids.

  This was important because Oliver wanted her to be wide awake for what was going to occur in just a little while.

  Judgment Day.

  It happened faster than he’d hoped, as one by one the social workers all started heading upstairs to bed.

  The kids too, because they were not allowed to be downstairs without adult supervision.

  There was some whining and complaining, but they went without too much more of a fuss.

  Oliver side-eyed Miss Haggerty and he obediently took up the rear as he headed upstairs and towards his small room.

  The young man heard first the click of the lock of his door and then a moment later the lights went out.

  Miss Haggerty always threw the switch at the end of the hall to either turn the lights on or off to make sure that no one was up past lights out.

  It was something like a prison warden would do.

  Now that he was ‘locked in’ for the night, Oliver sat on the edge of his bed and waited.

  Patiently.

  He had planned for this particular day because he had learned that this was the very day which began his eighteenth year.

  Oliver was legally an adult now and no longer a ward of the state, something he’d learned at the library, so he could simply leave.

  No one acknowledged his birthday nor had anyone discussed him leaving the orphanage but he could definitely leave.

  No one, not even Miss Haggerty, could do a damn thing about it either and he would leave, but not just yet.

  During his many quiet nights of snooping in Miss Haggerty’s office after hours, he had come across his file.

  The file-cabinet drawer had been locked, but picking the lock had been fairly simple.

  He had learned many things about himself that he had not known previously, such as the names of his biological parents.

  Stuart and Elaine Perritt.

  Perritt.

  That was his last name and he had smiled as he tried it on for size the first time he mouthed the word while reading through the thick file.

  Oliver Perritt.

  It suited him.

  More reading showed that when Oliver had been about eight years old, a private investigator had been sent there looking for him.

  Yet he had not been informed, nor did things change for the better. In fact, things got worse after that and Miss Haggerty’s punishments included sending him to the basement more frequently.

  There was nothing further about what that entailed with the PI, but he was positive that Miss Haggerty knew something about it.

  Feeling his heart begin to race, he noticed a sheet of paper with Miss Susan’s name at the top of it.

  Oliver’s eyes skimmed over the sheet of the official looking paperwork and he shuddered a breath as he read about how Miss Susan had been wrongfully terminated, at least in his eyes, for trying to help him by filing a report with the regional manager.

  Miss Haggerty had exhausted all of her tricks and lies to cost Miss Susan her job, using made up lies, the whole ordeal upsetting his savior so much that she stated that she could no longer do social work.

  Miss Susan had lost her whole career just to try and save him and even after all of this time, he loved her still for loving him.

  No wonder he had never heard from her again. Miss Haggerty had yet again interfered and made sure that Oliver had nothing.

  A short time later, Oliver faced his nemesis once and for all in her final hour.

  Her nose was bleeding from when he’d sucker-punched her after catching her unaware in the back hallway to the basement.

  First, Oliver had made a commotion loud enough in the front vestibule just after three in the morning to rouse her so that Miss Haggerty would come down to see what was going on.

  Second, he had lain in wait against the shadows of the living room, watching her completely unaware of him as she gingerly crept towards the front door.

  Now that she was on the first level of the house it was time for stage two.

  Oliver next headed towards the basement, making enough of a racket to divert her attention there.

  He’d already deduced that she’d tried to rouse one of the men to come down there with her, but Oliver had seen to it that none of them would be disturbed.

  So Miss Haggerty had come to the top of the basement stairs and opened the door to peer down.

  Before she could even fathom what was going on, Oliver had put his hand on her back and shoved her.

  Hard.

  She screamed, falling off balance as she lurched forward over the first three steps and then tumbled down the remaining six.

  Whimpering, Miss Haggerty laid on the floor as tears slid down her cheeks.

  There was a streak of blood on the hem of the long, white nightgown the old biddy wore.

  Good.

  Oliver tapped the cane, which he had stolen from Miss Haggerty’s room after she’d drunk herself to sleep, loudly as he descended the steps and loomed over her.

  The woman had been shocked to see him standing there and the first thing that she did was scream for help before Oliver struck her with the butt of the cane.

  In the same manner of which she had done to him many, many times to the point that he was able to do it to her expertly.

  Now she lay before him, cowering on the floor as her shoulders shook with sobs.

  When she finally fatigued herself and her cries whimpered off, Oliver fixed his best unwavering stare at her.

  The one he’d learned from her.

  “Who is Peter Sloane?” Oliver asked in a strangely soothing tone as he held up the yellowed, card-stock rectangle containing the PI’s information.

  He already knew, but he was curious to hear what she had to say.

  Damned if he was going to bellow and snarl like she had always done to him.

  No, he was in complete control.

  When she didn’t say anything, he slammed the cane across the older woman’s shoulder blades as best as he could with his good arm.

  The wood reverberated in his hand as it hit home against her bones with a sickening crack.

  Miss Haggerty screamed and slumped over deeper into the floor.

  She wasn’t going anywhere.

  Her muted, blue-grey eyes darted to the yellowed business card Oliver held and then back to him as she remained quiet.

  “Come n-now, Miss Haggerty.” Oliver reasoned continuing in that same soothing tone, as if the matron were a petulant child, “You’ve been holding out on me, knowing about my p-parents all this time and not saying a single word. Surely y-you don’t want to make this harder than it needs to be, do you?”

  Silence.

  It was this damn stutter of his that happened once in a while and he hated it.

  He had wanted to show Miss Haggerty that he meant business, not sound like some scared asshole that couldn’t form a complete sentence.

  Miss Haggerty seemed like she was trying to hold back a smile, as if she was going to laugh at him.

  Bitch.

  Oliver caned her again, her kneecap this time and she seemed to fall unconscious.

  A sharp slap against her cheek fixed that and she blubbered as he made ready to wallop her again.

  “He is a private investigator.” She tearfully surrend
ered, but Oliver knew there was much more to Peter Sloane than that.

  As he lifted the butt of the black cane, pointing it threateningly about an inch away from Miss Haggerty’s face, she swallowed deeply and told him the rest.

  Peter Sloane had been hired by his biological parents to locate their son and bring him home.

  Apparently they had been urged by a social worker at the hospital to give Oliver up at birth due to his disfigured arm.

  They had been advised that it was better for him and for them.

  But they hadn’t been able to take care of themselves, much less a crippled infant on top of everything else.

  They were dirt poor.

  But Stuart was a gambling man and a sudden windfall had reversed their fortune.

  Now he had wanted his son back and had sent the PI to the orphanage, believing that Oliver’s stay there was a fostering situation.

  Something that was temporary, as Stuart had been told at the time and Oliver had been left there with a promise that the couple would return for him when they could.

  Only they had never come back, at least that’s what Oliver had always believed.

  Now he was truly very angry at the loss of time that could have been spent with his family.

  Oliver had worked hard, for years, to control his emotions and he wasn’t going to sully that now and get worked up in front of Miss Haggerty.

  Let her see that she had really gotten one over on him this time.

  But he was also torn.

  Stuart and Elaine should pay for what they did to him, leaving him like they had, just because he wasn’t perfect.

  He would deal with them later.

  Right now, he had a job to finish.

  ***

  “Stuart and Elaine Perritt.” Oliver inquired as he spelled both firsts and the last name for good measure.

  Getting a hold of the private investigator had been a dead-end since he seemed to be out of business according to information, but questions Miss Haggerty had answered about his parents got Oliver what he needed to get started.

  His file from the office would fill in the rest.

  With the home address of Stuart and Elaine in hand, Oliver took one last look around Miss Haggerty’s office to be sure that he hadn’t forgotten any of his paperwork.

  He didn’t want to leave a facet of himself in this hellhole.

  The sun would be up soon and it was time for him to go before the others awoke from their deep sleeps and found Miss Haggerty.

  He had taken his time with her in that dank, dark basement room, torturing her slowly, both physically and mentally, as the woman begged weakly for mercy.

  By the time Oliver was through Miss Haggerty had not only wet herself, but had shit her pants as well.

  His experiment had gone perfectly and without a hitch.

  Oliver left the quivering old woman there, barely alive as she writhed in pain against the cold, stone floor.

  Her body shook as she blubbered and Miss Haggerty, again, pleaded for mercy.

  Ignoring her pleas, Oliver wiped down the head of the bloody, black cane before he pivoted and stalked from the room.

  Just before he closed the door, preparing to lock her in, he saw something in the shadows move out of the corner of his eye.

  This was getting better by the minute.

  Of course he knew that they wouldn’t attack her, as rats generally tried to stay as far away from humans as possible.

  But Miss Haggerty didn’t know that and he was confident that this would do her completely in.

  She was already in poor health, an unconcealed observation made due to the years of drinking wearing her down by degree.

  The sound of the cane tapping against the floor as he gripped it echoed through the empty basement corridors as Oliver Perritt exited the dimly lit passage and didn’t look back.

  CHAPTER ONE

  2019

  …breaking news. We have just received information that another woman, the third in the last six weeks, Portia Riley, was reported missing just this morning by family members. Miss Riley is twenty-six years old, lives and works in the tri-state area. She was last seen coming out of a mid-town Starbucks coffee shop at approximately seven-thirty yesterday morning. Shortly afterward, her purse was found in an underground parking garage, well away from her normal route for that time of day. Like the previous cases, all of the women abducted have left no other clues behind, baffling police. This is a breaking story and we will have more later. We now turn to the weather….

  Letting out a cry as she was startled awake by the sudden noise filling the room, Avery Hansen blindly scrambled for the television’s remote control, her pink-manicured fingers feeling for the oblong, black device.

  Had she actually set the volume on the large flat-screen television this damned loud?

  “Jesus…” she grumbled as blessed silence instantly filled the bedroom and the TV darkened.

  It was preset with the volume up, the way that he always kept it.

  Five a.m. so that he could get a run in before work.

  Avery’s blue-green eyes rolled to the other side of the bed, the empty side of the bed and they filled with tears.

  Josh had been so angry last night when he left their apartment, more than she’d ever seen him the four years they’d been together.

  A stupid, idiotic fight about where their relationship was heading. She wanted to get married and have a family, but Josh was living high on life and liked things the way they were.

  Men.

  They didn’t understand anything about biological clocks and the incessant longing that most women her age had about having babies.

  True, she was only twenty-four and had plenty of time, as he had pointed out, but two cousins on her father’s side had suffered through miscarriages, IVF and a myriad of other disappointments.

  Avery wanted to get married now so that she could start having children while she still had a chance.

  In case she needed extra help with getting pregnant.

  But was she really being selfish, like he’d shot at her in the heat of the argument?

  No.

  She had simply made it clear that she wanted to be married and he knew that.

  Josh also knew that she wanted a family with him and that she felt marriage and children would complete them.

  Avery delighted in spending time on Zillow looking at houses, ones that had plenty of bedrooms and a big yard for children to play in.

  Shaking her head, Avery snapped back the sheets and sat up, swinging her legs around to the side of the king-sized bed as she planted her feet on the carpeted floor.

  Her baby-blue iPhone was in her hands next, checking to see if there were texts, emails from Josh or anything at all.

  But there was nothing new.

  Sighing dejectedly, Avery decided that two could play at that game and she headed off to take a shower.

  She appraised herself in the full mirror over the double sinks. Her body was taut and firm, she ate right and when she could get up that early she sometimes ran with Josh.

  Her long strawberry-blonde hair shimmered in the harsh overhead lighting in the bathroom as she leaned closer to the mirror to examine her eyes.

  Bloodshot.

  “Visine!” she announced out loud as she rifled around in the medicine cabinet for the tiny, clear bottle.

  Next she looked at her teeth and what years of wearing braces had given her.

  A beautiful smile.

  Running her manicured, slender fingers through long tresses she twirled her hair upward, grappling for a tortoise-shell jaw-clip to pin it all to the top of her head.

  Her iPhone’s ring-tone played a tune just as she shut off the water six minutes later and she damn-near broke her neck trying to get out of the tub to answer her phone.

  A beautiful, mocha-skinned face was on the screen wearing a wide, friendly smile as the phone continued to play the ring-tone.

  Erin.

  “Hey
Erin,” Avery sighed, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice that it wasn’t Josh.

  “Wow, good morning to you, too!” Erin replied in a sarcastic tone, which made Avery immediately apologize.

  She filled her best friend in on what had happened, quickly, as she pulled her favorite brown, leather skirt off of its hanger.

  She had chosen a long-sleeved, cream-colored blouse to go with it.

  Brown, foldable ballet-flats, her beloved Tieks, were ready for Avery to slip into.

  They were more comfortable than sneakers and she owned a pair in just about all available colors.

  There was a naysayer or two, who didn’t really care for them, but her feet loved them and they were super cute.

  “You know how Josh is.” Erin reminded her, “Once he cools off, he’ll come back.”

  Maybe, but Avery had never seen her boyfriend this pissed at her before and she was really worried that this might be it for them.

  It took a lot to get Josh really mad and yet she had managed it.

  “Forget about him.” Erin advised as Avery tried to muster up the same bravado. But all she could remember is how Josh had slammed out of their apartment late last night, making the windows rattle as he did. “I’m sorry Ayv, but if Josh was really serious about you he would have proposed already.”

  And there it was.

  The voice of reason that she so badly wanted to ignore but could not because everything being said was one-hundred percent correct.

  Only a best friend could give you uncomfortable news like that because it was for your own good.

  Deep down inside Avery knew that she wasn’t happy with this growing snarl in their relationship and if she was truly being honest, she hadn’t been in a long time.

  Josh would be content to stay as they were forever and that wasn’t what she wanted.

  They had grown into a comfortable existence with one another and Josh didn’t think they needed some piece of paper just to prove their love.

  Avery felt that it showed a lack of commitment from Josh and had told him so.

  And that’s when the proverbial shit hit the fan and he’d left her alone, crying her eyes out.