Haunted by the Past (Original)

Chapter 57

I don't know how long I was awake or if I had ever really been unconscious, but when I next became aware I found myself lying on the bed with my head resting on Eli's shoulder while he delicately rubbed my head. Every few minutes he kissed the top of my head, then went back to reading the journal in his other hand. My eyes flickered to the words written on the page and although I couldn't make out what they were, I remembered what was said.

Brodie was dead.

And suddenly I had lost a close friend all over again. The pain of losing him was fresh and new as if he had died yesterday. I cursed myself in ever doubting him, but this revelation brought up new questions.

Henry purposely killed him? Why? Dr. Higgins implied Henry believed Brodie was responsible, but that couldn't possibly be. Of course the timing was too coincidental - the murders stopped once he died - but Triple-6 is back now. So that proves he was innocent, right? But there was no denying that these new murders were different. The work of an admirer? A copycat that wants to honor Brodie's memory in avenging him? Or was something else going on? It started to feel like I wanted to go back to the days when my friends were simply dead and I didn't have to question the meaning behind everything.

Eli lowered the journal and sighed. While he stared up at the ceiling above, his eye darted back and forth while he ruminated on the final entry.

"It's as it's written. Brodie is dead," I mumbled.

He turned to me in surprise, then his expression softened, "Yes. All this time the only thing he had to hide is the fact that his father is worse than my own."

I shook my head in dismay, "How could he kill him?"

"Isn't it obvious?" he arched an eyebrow. "Henry is Triple-6."

I sat up with a startle, "What?"

"He killed his own son so he would take the fall for him," Eli said so plainly and matter-of-factly, as if he was reading a Wikipedia entry on a long-deceased murderer, not one that was living and breathing and probably just finished his shift at the hospital down the road.

I looked away, not believing the words I was hearing. Henry Carmichael, the man who brought me extra desserts during my hospital stay, a serial killer? As absurd as Brodie was as a suspect, Henry was even more unbelievable. I closed my eyes and I could see him standing in the open door of my room with ice cream cup in hand, beaming warmly. The thought that the same man was responsible for the scene at Dr. Higgins' cabin made my skin crawl. He walked the halls of the hospital night after night while hundreds of vulnerable patients slept. Was Eli really telling me that with one hand he provided aid while with the other hand he took life?

"No, you're wrong again!" I insisted.

Eli sighed and pushed himself upright, "He puts up a good façade, but that's all it is. If it's one thing sociopaths like him are good at its emulating emotion."

"The man brought me extra desserts!" I argued. "Would a sociopath do that?"

Eli shrugged, "Bringing you extra desserts gave him an excuse to get closer to you."

"Why?"

"You would have to ask him. Maybe he wanted to see where your allegiances laid," Eli theorized. "I think it's safe to say he didn't take kindly to his son being bullied."

I thought back to Dr. Higgins' comments on Ray Drummond's death, "Revenge does seem to be a key element."

"More like hurt pride."

"Brodie was further bullied in the hospital during his recovery? Is that what Heather remembered?" I thought out loud.

"And what Henry witnessed," Eli continued. "Thus the bullies became the targets."