Maddy's Floor by Dale Mayer Page A

listened as his old friend gave him an overview of the work area and the cases in progress. "Wow, it seems like we have some work to do."
     
    "Ya think?"
     
    Drew grinned, feeling a weight slide off his shoulders. "And I'm damn glad to be here." He glanced at the one wall beside the doorway that held several kids' pictures. "Where do we start?"
     
    "We have several cases that have been reopened. It's going to take you some time to get up to speed on everything so I suggest you start with one. Go over it so you can become familiar with it, and then go on to the next. However…" He walked over to study the board in question. "This isn't really one of them. Although, when we have a lull or spare time, feel free to look deeper. However, unless you come up with some concrete lead – well, it's not in the budget. We have to use the limited man hours where we can make a difference."
     
    Drew stepped closer to the old photos on the wall. Six of them, boys and girls, one black and one of mixed race, Mexican maybe. The others were Caucasians. The fresh happy faces tore at his heart. If they were on the wall, they were victims. Victims he'd come here to help. He read the brief notes interspersing the old photos.
     
    Glancing over at Wilson, he said, "I'll find time to go over this case though, even if it's in my spare time. I remember my uncle telling me about this one. Fascinating stuff."
     
    Wilson nodded. "And very odd."
     

***
    Doris glared at the small black cell phone. Her hand trembled so hard, she could barely hold the receiver to her ear. Her perfect asshole of a brother was gloating. Again. Jerk. In truth, he wasn't really her brother. Her mother had married his father when they were young enough to share their parents and old enough to hate having to do so. A difference she'd come to appreciate over the years. She tugged ruthlessly at the blankets, pulling them higher on her chest.
     
    "You got a bed on Maddy's floor? I don't believe you." And she didn't. Her application had been in for months – if not years. Who could remember? The days rolled into one hellish moment after another. "How did you get accepted before I did?"
     
    "Money. Something I have a lot of and you don't."
     
    John's joy made her sick. How dare he bribe his way in? And gloat about it. No siree, she wasn't letting this slide. The Haven would pay for this insult.
     
    With the new wing opening, she'd hoped her application would finally be accepted. So far, only a couple of new patients had heard about their transfer requests. If she trusted the gossip, there were another ten beds or so still to fill. Patients had been in a frenzy trying to get transfer requests in as fast as possible, only they needed their doctor's approval too. Surely, one of those beds had her name on it?
     
    She closed her phone while her brother was mid-sentence. There was only so much gloating she could handle. Besides, the second floor of The Haven was chaos. Doris watched the organized mess continue, as it did at this time of day every day. There was no weekend off from being poked, prodded and asked silly questions, with answers noted on the clipboard for all to see. Who in the world cared if she'd had her fiber and whether it was working or not? Peace was a prized commodity. Still it was better than the being in the morgue. Doris shook her head, her busy fingers pleating the sheets on her chest.
     
    She studied the others in her ward. She'd had the same three neighbors for the last six months or so. No one left here except in a coffin. They should paint the walls black to prepare everyone for that certainty. Instead, someone had painted a happy yellow color on the walls. Yuck.
     
    Still she'd been here close to a year. If John would give his head a shake, he'd understand that she was the one who deserved to be on Dr. Maddy's floor – not him. She didn't mind if he joined later – after he'd done his time on the other floors.
     
    The higher the floor here, the