of Boulder.
Eldorado Springs Drive wound through the foothills, populated by scrub oak and smaller pines. “Never been out here,” Nikki
said.
“I haven’t, either.”
The wheels hummed on two-lane blacktop.
“Beautiful,” she said.
“Peaceful.”
“Hmmm.”
Mental illness.
Brad mulled over the words. The mystery of the mind, hidden in the folds of hills beyond the tangles of life in the city.
Nothing of the placid landscape spoke to him of the killer. Less than half an hour before, they’d stood before a wall on which
a madman had glued a woman whose heels he’d drilled and drained. Now they rode through God’s country. The incongruity of the
two images brought a faint buzz to Brad’s mind.
While Brad drove, Nikki glanced at the notebook where she’d jotted down notes from a conversation she’d had with the director
of CWI, Allison Johnson.
“Something strange about her.”
“The director?”
Nikki stared ahead. “There’s our road. Before the village, she said. South on a dirt road two miles.”
Brad slowed, turned, and headed the BMW down a winding gravel road. “Isolated.”
“I think that’s the idea. It’s a privately run facility for families or patients who can afford a hefty room-and-board fee.
Used to be a convent run by nuns. There’s a place like this in Colorado Springs, something about the healthy air that once
attracted caregivers and patients.”
“It’s religious?”
“Actually, I’m not sure. Wouldn’t surprise me; health care administered by the Catholic Church has a strong history.”
“You said she was strange.”
Nikki nodded. “Maybe
strange
is the wrong word. Don’t get me wrong, she was delighted to have us. She just sounded rather eccentric.”
“Maybe she has a little of what they have,” Brad said, then added so that he didn’t sound demeaning, “Maybe we all do.”
“She said they only accept patients who display exceptional intelligence.”
Brad wasn’t sure what to make of that.
They rounded a bend and saw the large gated entrance immediately. A white sign above the heavy metal gates left no doubt: THE CENTER FOR WELLNESS AND INTELLIGENCE . And underneath, a motto of sorts: LIFE NEVER SHORTCHANGES .
A high fence ran in both directions away from the gate—the kind of fence that brought images of concentration camps to mind,
complete with barbed wire and charged lines. Beyond lay a long paved driveway bordered by manicured lawns and tall pine trees.
Brad chuckled appreciatively. The Center for Wellness and Intelligence might be mistaken for an upscale resort.
He rolled up to the guardhouse and presented his identification. “Brad Raines and Nikki Holden here to see Allison Johnson.”
The uniformed man with a badge that said he was Bob nodded and checked his log sheet.
Brad indicated the barbed wire. “Nice fence.”
“It’s not as threatening as it looks.” The guard handed the IDs back. “They installed the barbed wire and monitors last year
after someone broke in and raped two of the residents.” He hit a switch and the gates rolled back. “Head up the driveway,
visitor parking to the left. You’ll find Allison in the reception room.”
“Thank you, Bob.”
“No problem.” He sat down and picked up his phone, probably to report their arrival. A Brad Meltzer novel lay open at his
fingertips. Plenty of time to read out here.
They rolled past the trees toward a circular driveway that rounded a white stone fountain. To their right, a woman wearing
a yellow flowered dress and a large sun hat was trimming bushes that had been sculpted into perfectly formed poodles, a larger
one trailed by three smaller puppies. She waved as they passed, then stopped to watch them.
“Nice,” Brad said.
“Very nice.”
“Is she…”
“Clearly.”
He pulled into a parking spot reserved for visitors and stepped out into clean, cool mountain air. Birds chirped above them.
Shadowed by a cheerful sun,
Eldorado Springs Drive wound through the foothills, populated by scrub oak and smaller pines. “Never been out here,” Nikki
said.
“I haven’t, either.”
The wheels hummed on two-lane blacktop.
“Beautiful,” she said.
“Peaceful.”
“Hmmm.”
Mental illness.
Brad mulled over the words. The mystery of the mind, hidden in the folds of hills beyond the tangles of life in the city.
Nothing of the placid landscape spoke to him of the killer. Less than half an hour before, they’d stood before a wall on which
a madman had glued a woman whose heels he’d drilled and drained. Now they rode through God’s country. The incongruity of the
two images brought a faint buzz to Brad’s mind.
While Brad drove, Nikki glanced at the notebook where she’d jotted down notes from a conversation she’d had with the director
of CWI, Allison Johnson.
“Something strange about her.”
“The director?”
Nikki stared ahead. “There’s our road. Before the village, she said. South on a dirt road two miles.”
Brad slowed, turned, and headed the BMW down a winding gravel road. “Isolated.”
“I think that’s the idea. It’s a privately run facility for families or patients who can afford a hefty room-and-board fee.
Used to be a convent run by nuns. There’s a place like this in Colorado Springs, something about the healthy air that once
attracted caregivers and patients.”
“It’s religious?”
“Actually, I’m not sure. Wouldn’t surprise me; health care administered by the Catholic Church has a strong history.”
“You said she was strange.”
Nikki nodded. “Maybe
strange
is the wrong word. Don’t get me wrong, she was delighted to have us. She just sounded rather eccentric.”
“Maybe she has a little of what they have,” Brad said, then added so that he didn’t sound demeaning, “Maybe we all do.”
“She said they only accept patients who display exceptional intelligence.”
Brad wasn’t sure what to make of that.
They rounded a bend and saw the large gated entrance immediately. A white sign above the heavy metal gates left no doubt: THE CENTER FOR WELLNESS AND INTELLIGENCE . And underneath, a motto of sorts: LIFE NEVER SHORTCHANGES .
A high fence ran in both directions away from the gate—the kind of fence that brought images of concentration camps to mind,
complete with barbed wire and charged lines. Beyond lay a long paved driveway bordered by manicured lawns and tall pine trees.
Brad chuckled appreciatively. The Center for Wellness and Intelligence might be mistaken for an upscale resort.
He rolled up to the guardhouse and presented his identification. “Brad Raines and Nikki Holden here to see Allison Johnson.”
The uniformed man with a badge that said he was Bob nodded and checked his log sheet.
Brad indicated the barbed wire. “Nice fence.”
“It’s not as threatening as it looks.” The guard handed the IDs back. “They installed the barbed wire and monitors last year
after someone broke in and raped two of the residents.” He hit a switch and the gates rolled back. “Head up the driveway,
visitor parking to the left. You’ll find Allison in the reception room.”
“Thank you, Bob.”
“No problem.” He sat down and picked up his phone, probably to report their arrival. A Brad Meltzer novel lay open at his
fingertips. Plenty of time to read out here.
They rolled past the trees toward a circular driveway that rounded a white stone fountain. To their right, a woman wearing
a yellow flowered dress and a large sun hat was trimming bushes that had been sculpted into perfectly formed poodles, a larger
one trailed by three smaller puppies. She waved as they passed, then stopped to watch them.
“Nice,” Brad said.
“Very nice.”
“Is she…”
“Clearly.”
He pulled into a parking spot reserved for visitors and stepped out into clean, cool mountain air. Birds chirped above them.
Shadowed by a cheerful sun,
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