Locked In

Melissa stayed with Nanette and her husband and was able to visit with her out-of-town friend as well. Melissa was grateful as hell for Nanette and Ryland, but things had now gotten to the point where she was ready to cave and sell the house. It may be the only way to stop the harassment at least on the home front as long as she made sure she wasn’t followed to wherever she moved to. At this point, she just might consider moving into some kind of gated and secure condo or apartment building. All she knew was that she refused to spend another night in the house. She took what she needed that she could fit into Nanette’s spare bedroom, and then she rented a storage space in which to move most of her valuables into. Once the house was empty and clean, she would put it on the market. When Nanette, unafraid of rodents, had gone to gather some of her things that first night, she’d seen a few rats in varying colors and marking scurrying about. After her husband bombed the place and then went through it later on, he uncovered over a dozen rats. Each had weighed around a pound and their colors ranged from white to gray, from brown to black. Some even had interesting markings. Their size and markings clearly showed that they were not wild rats. Someone had raised them and fed them well before turning them loose in Melissa’s home. Melissa had just seen a patient out right before lunch. Her stomach rumbled with hunger and she was looking forward to grabbing a bite to eat. But then a young stocky Hispanic male with a dirty shirt and sagging jeans suddenly appeared in the open door of her tiny office and curbed her appetite. “Melissa Goldstein?” “Yes?” said Melissa, pulse quickening where it wouldn’t have ordinarily quickened before Katie. How the hell had this guy gotten back here and how did he know her name? “Katie wants to talk to you.” Melissa gasped with surprise. This was new. “Yeah? So do I. Where is she?” “Why?” Melissa rose from her chair, anger slowly replacing her fear. “Well, because she’s in an awful lot of trouble and the police would like to talk to her as much as I would. That’s why. So how about you be a good Samaritan and tell me where she is. Anything would be great. An address, a phone number…” Melissa’s words were abruptly cut off when the man shot forward and slugged her. Stunned by the blow to the head, her knees buckle and she dropped to the floor. The guy turned and ran and Melissa pushed herself up onto her knees. Then she fumbled for the phone to call the police and alert security and the front desk. In just minutes, a very tall and large boned though not heavy female security guard was in her office. ‘E. Crawford’ was the name stitched onto her uniform. “Are you okay, Dr. Goldstein?” Melissa looked up. She saw the office assistant gazing in from the hallway with concern as she hiked herself up and into her chair. “I-I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I just need the police to finally catch this psychopath and everyone she’s employed to harm me.” A moment later, two uniformed policemen arrived along with a female detective. Melissa expected to be their first question somewhere along the lines of whether or not she was okay, and assessing how safe she was at the moment. Instead, the woman curtly asked, “Dr. Melissa Goldstein?” “Yes, that’s me.” “You’re under arrest for suspicion of the attempted murder of Katie Nyland,” the detective said. Time seemed to suddenly drop to slow motion. Shock and disbelief overwhelmed Melissa to the core. She had not heard what she just heard, did she? She couldn’t have. She was dreaming. She must have been. “What?” she slowly heard herself say a few seconds later. Her voice sounded as if it was underwater. “What!” she shouted louder. “Please stand up and turn around,” said the detective. “This can’t be. You’ve got it all wrong. I’m the victim. The Katie Nyland that your fellow officers say doesn’t exist has been enlisting people to assault and harass me for months and now you want to arrest me?” “Turn around, Dr. Goldstein,” said one of the male officers. The detective turned her so she could slip on a pair of cold, heavy handcuffs. “I absolutely don’t believe this. I just don’t believe it. This is like arresting a rape victim for her own rape.” The detective spoke again as she turned Melissa to face her and nudged her towards the door. “We can discuss everything at the station.” “We couldn’t do it right here? Instead, you have to embarrass the shit out of me in front of my staff and patients?” The detective and the officers said nothing. Melissa was led down the long hallway. She felt like she was moving almost in the way she would in a nightmare. But this was a real-life nightmare. One she couldn’t wrap her head around or wake up from. Once at the station, she was questioned and then thrown into a holding cell to await arraignment. Bail had been set way too high for her to afford. She called Nanette and got her voicemail. She left a message as briefly as she could, asking that she contact a lawyer for her. She sat on the built-in cement bench staring at the gray cement wall in front of her, still feeling as if she were in a dream. There were three other women in the cell. A couple of black women chatting with each other about their drug charges, and another white woman sitting at the other end of the bench. She sat with her head down, hair covering her face. Melissa couldn’t see much of her because one of the other women, who was much bigger than the girl, blocked most of her from view. The minutes turned into hours and Melissa eventually dozed off despite the loud chatter of the women and the TV that was blasting just outside in the dayroom. When she awoke she found that the only other inmate in the cell was the strangely shy woman who continue to look down at her lap, hair covering her face. “Hey,” said Melissa. “Would you happen to know what time it is?” The woman turned to face her. Melissa’s heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. It was Katie. Melissa’s mouth open to scream but no sound came out. Katie smiled, and it wasn’t a friendly smile at all. “Does it really matter what time it is, Doctor?”