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Tears in Hell (UPDATED OCTOBER 11th)
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<blockquote data-quote="Puppy Kicker" data-source="post: 1779004" data-attributes="member: 20284"><p><strong>Coffee n Donuts</strong></p><p></p><p><em>11:15 AM Sunday, July 18th</em></p><p><em>Riverside Community Hospital, Newport News, Virginia</em></p><p></p><p>As the elevator doors clunked shut behind them, Meadow and Rebecca discussed their next stop.</p><p></p><p>“I’d like to get ahold of Allison. I haven’t talked to her since our fiasco with the a**hole. She was a bit flustered.”</p><p></p><p>“It sounds like he was totally out of line,” Rebecca agreed. “I just don’t understand mean people like that. Have you called her today at all?”</p><p></p><p>“Tried this morning, couldn’t get through.” Meadow pulled her cell phone out of her purse. “I’ll give her a try really quick.” </p><p></p><p>“Sounds good to me.” Rebecca said. “I’m going to go talk to the receptionist lady for a sec.” Meadow half-nodded at her, occupied with whatever she was hearing on the other end of the Verizon electrons.</p><p></p><p>Rebecca approached the receptionist. Rebecca stopped at the desk and the tired looking young woman looked up from her paperwork. “Ah, Miss Richardson.” Rebecca looked confused for half a second, remembered her lie, and reconfigured her facial features into a slightly perturbed look.</p><p></p><p>“Yes. I just talked to my sister.” Rebecca turned on her worried face. “I’m worried about her. She seems very sick, and she was attacked by some mean men just a couple days ago.” Rebecca flipped to her commanding face. “I REALLY think it would be best if she had a nice policeman at her room to keep her safe.” Rebecca settled on her sweet and persuasive face. “Don’t you think so?”</p><p></p><p>The receptionist squinted at some papers on her desk. “Betty Richardson? She has one.”</p><p></p><p>“But… Where…” Rebecca began.</p><p></p><p>“No luck.” Meadow said as she approached the desk. She dropped her cell into her purse.</p><p></p><p>Rebecca gathered her interrupted thoughts. “Betty’s supposed to have a police guard?”</p><p></p><p>The receptionist nodded. “Says so right here. I’m pretty sure I saw him come in too.”</p><p></p><p>"Guess the cop wandered off. Maybe somebody should have got him a mini-fridge, some coffee, some donuts," Meadow said to Rebecca.</p><p></p><p>“You think it’s something that innocent, Meadow?”</p><p></p><p>“Nope.”</p><p></p><p>They started for the elevator, quickly, worried.</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">---</p><p></p><p>“I guess that’s his chair. Didn’t even notice it when we came by the first time.” Meadow said. “Look, even a cup of coffee on the floor next to it. Are you getting a bad feeling about this too?”</p><p></p><p>Rebecca nodded. “Let’s see if we can find him. Ummm….” Rebecca looked around. “Bathroom maybe?”</p><p></p><p>“I’m going to check on Betty first.” Meadow pushed open the door to Betty’s room while Rebecca headed towards the restrooms. They met again a minute later as Rebecca left the ladies’ room. “Betty seems to be OK.”</p><p></p><p>Rebecca was holding her nose. “Nothing in there that we want to deal with.”</p><p></p><p>“Men’s room then?” Meadow asked.</p><p></p><p>Rebecca nodded and pulled the door open as an orderly pushed a cart around the corner. He stopped his cart and gave the two women standing in the entrance to the men’s room a quizzical look. "What are you two doing?"</p><p></p><p>"Looking for a cop."</p><p></p><p>"Check the ladies’ room," he instructed.</p><p></p><p>"It stinks."</p><p></p><p>The orderly shook his head and continued pushing his cart down the passageway, muttering something about not having time for this kind of crap.</p><p></p><p>The ladies returned their attention to the men’s room. “See anything?” Rebecca asked, holding the door but not looking in.</p><p></p><p>Meadow whispered. “Someone’s on the toilet.” Louder, she said, “Hello?” Nothing.</p><p></p><p>"You look," said Rebecca, looking a bit queasy.</p><p></p><p>"Over or under?" Meadow asked. Rebecca continued to look queasy and didn’t answer. Meadow approached the stall door. It was slightly ajar. With a single finger she pushed it. Creaking, the door swung inward. Meadow staggered backwards, slamming into the wall. “Ohmygod…”</p><p></p><p>Seated on the toilet, a wire garrote twisted around his throat, face blue and bloated from strangulation, was a young police sergeant. From Betty’s room, directly across the hallway, the steady beep of a stopped heart droned through the sudden silence.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Puppy Kicker, post: 1779004, member: 20284"] [b]Coffee n Donuts[/b] [I]11:15 AM Sunday, July 18th Riverside Community Hospital, Newport News, Virginia[/I] As the elevator doors clunked shut behind them, Meadow and Rebecca discussed their next stop. “I’d like to get ahold of Allison. I haven’t talked to her since our fiasco with the a**hole. She was a bit flustered.” “It sounds like he was totally out of line,” Rebecca agreed. “I just don’t understand mean people like that. Have you called her today at all?” “Tried this morning, couldn’t get through.” Meadow pulled her cell phone out of her purse. “I’ll give her a try really quick.” “Sounds good to me.” Rebecca said. “I’m going to go talk to the receptionist lady for a sec.” Meadow half-nodded at her, occupied with whatever she was hearing on the other end of the Verizon electrons. Rebecca approached the receptionist. Rebecca stopped at the desk and the tired looking young woman looked up from her paperwork. “Ah, Miss Richardson.” Rebecca looked confused for half a second, remembered her lie, and reconfigured her facial features into a slightly perturbed look. “Yes. I just talked to my sister.” Rebecca turned on her worried face. “I’m worried about her. She seems very sick, and she was attacked by some mean men just a couple days ago.” Rebecca flipped to her commanding face. “I REALLY think it would be best if she had a nice policeman at her room to keep her safe.” Rebecca settled on her sweet and persuasive face. “Don’t you think so?” The receptionist squinted at some papers on her desk. “Betty Richardson? She has one.” “But… Where…” Rebecca began. “No luck.” Meadow said as she approached the desk. She dropped her cell into her purse. Rebecca gathered her interrupted thoughts. “Betty’s supposed to have a police guard?” The receptionist nodded. “Says so right here. I’m pretty sure I saw him come in too.” "Guess the cop wandered off. Maybe somebody should have got him a mini-fridge, some coffee, some donuts," Meadow said to Rebecca. “You think it’s something that innocent, Meadow?” “Nope.” They started for the elevator, quickly, worried. [CENTER]---[/CENTER] “I guess that’s his chair. Didn’t even notice it when we came by the first time.” Meadow said. “Look, even a cup of coffee on the floor next to it. Are you getting a bad feeling about this too?” Rebecca nodded. “Let’s see if we can find him. Ummm….” Rebecca looked around. “Bathroom maybe?” “I’m going to check on Betty first.” Meadow pushed open the door to Betty’s room while Rebecca headed towards the restrooms. They met again a minute later as Rebecca left the ladies’ room. “Betty seems to be OK.” Rebecca was holding her nose. “Nothing in there that we want to deal with.” “Men’s room then?” Meadow asked. Rebecca nodded and pulled the door open as an orderly pushed a cart around the corner. He stopped his cart and gave the two women standing in the entrance to the men’s room a quizzical look. "What are you two doing?" "Looking for a cop." "Check the ladies’ room," he instructed. "It stinks." The orderly shook his head and continued pushing his cart down the passageway, muttering something about not having time for this kind of crap. The ladies returned their attention to the men’s room. “See anything?” Rebecca asked, holding the door but not looking in. Meadow whispered. “Someone’s on the toilet.” Louder, she said, “Hello?” Nothing. "You look," said Rebecca, looking a bit queasy. "Over or under?" Meadow asked. Rebecca continued to look queasy and didn’t answer. Meadow approached the stall door. It was slightly ajar. With a single finger she pushed it. Creaking, the door swung inward. Meadow staggered backwards, slamming into the wall. “Ohmygod…” Seated on the toilet, a wire garrote twisted around his throat, face blue and bloated from strangulation, was a young police sergeant. From Betty’s room, directly across the hallway, the steady beep of a stopped heart droned through the sudden silence. [/QUOTE]
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