9781452466903_

So thats it. Id wrapped all of Pedersens comments in a nice neat package, tied it up with a ribbon and presented it to Paul.
And that takes care of Jennifer. I added with a sigh of resignation. As for Abernathy, maybe he really did have a stroke, and as for my episode with the dogs, Ill never know. Maybe theyre just a little more security conscious than in most places. Certainly those dogs would deter anybody from trespassing.
I sipped my brandy laced coffee, curled up on the corner of the seat of the wheelhouse of the Snow Goose and waited for Pauls comment.
He remained silent.
He sat in the cockpit chair, the pipe making only the occasional puff of smoke to suggest it was still alive, as he gazed out into the grayness of the thickening fog. I heard the fog horn sound its lone and eerie warning from the Point Atkinson lighthouse and I followed the wake of a harbor tug turning towards its moorings its radar scanning head rotating above the mast while the red port lights appeared only as blurs in the dense fog. The Snow Goose rolled almost imperceptibly as the wash from the tug reached her hull.
Fog, as it inevitably did, brought almost an unnatural calm to the water, a deathlike quiet as the thick, wet grayness pressed down on the sea. Maybe the fog seemed to creep into Pauls mood and his mind. It was some moments before he answered, as he turned his attention back from the harbor.
Then youre through out there? he asked. Youre calling it quits? His last comment slightly ruffled my feathers. Im not calling it quits Im just through out there, thats all. Theres nothing more I can do. As it is Ive put in more time there than was ever required. Ive still got loose ends in other places to take care of for Yvonne and I dont have that much time left. Its nearly Christmas. The S.P.A.C.E. program my part of it, the evaluations are to be completed by the end of the year.
I suppose uncovering the odd murder and the attempt on your own life makes a satisfactory conclusion.
Paul! I was more than a little miffed. I did everything I could to clear up or at least clarify what I thought had happened. Remember, you agreed with me when I said there was no point going to the police without proof. And as I recall, it was you who suggested that little midnight escapade that nearly got me killed. The point is I was wrong. Pedersen may be old and doddery but theres nothing wrong with his head. He was very thorough. He spent a lot of time going over her records, her history, her diagnosis, her medications, and he didnt find anything wrong. Hes not involved. He doesnt know the patient, so he cant be biased. Paul, I didnt want to believe him because it made it all seem so futile. Ive always trusted my instincts my intuition whatever you want to call it and I genuinely felt there was something strange not only about her, but about the whole place. But Im prepared to admit I was wrong. Even you suggested I wouldnt find anything wrong with the records. And you were right. Ill probably go on thinking its a strange place but maybe mental institutions are always strange. All I know is that Ive got to get on with what I have to do. Ill chalk up Island View as an unpleasant experience and, in time, probably forget all about it.

...(*_*)9781452466903_

"So thats it." Id wrapped all of Pedersens comments in a nice neat package, tied it up with a ribbon and presented it to Paul.
"And that takes care of Jennifer." I added with a sigh of resignation. "As for Abernathy, maybe he really did have a stroke, and as for my episode with the dogs, Ill never know. Maybe theyre just a little more security conscious than in most places. Certainly those dogs would deter anybody from trespassing."
I sipped my brandy laced coffee, curled up on the corner of the seat of the wheelhouse of the Snow Goose and waited for Pauls comment.
He remained silent.
He sat in the cockpit chair, the pipe making only the occasional puff of smoke to suggest it was still alive, as he gazed out into the grayness of the thickening fog. I heard the fog horn sound its lone and eerie warning from the Point Atkinson lighthouse and I followed the wake of a harbor tug turning towards its moorings its radar scanning head rotating above the mast while the red port lights appeared only as blurs in the dense fog. The Snow Goose rolled almost imperceptibly as the wash from the tug reached her hull.
Fog, as it inevitably did, brought almost an unnatural calm to the water, a deathlike quiet as the thick, wet grayness pressed down on the sea. Maybe the fog seemed to creep into Pauls mood and his mind. It was some moments before he answered, as he turned his attention back from the harbor.
"Then youre through out there? he asked. Youre calling it quits?" His last comment slightly ruffled my feathers. "Im not calling it quits Im just through out there, thats all. Theres nothing more I can do. As it is Ive put in more time there than was ever required. Ive still got loose ends in other places to take care of for Yvonne and I dont have that much time left. Its nearly Christmas. The S.P.A.C.E. program my part of it, the evaluations are to be completed by the end of the year."
"I suppose uncovering the odd murder and the attempt on your own life makes a satisfactory conclusion."
"Paul!" I was more than a little miffed. "I did everything I could to clear up or at least clarify what I thought had happened. Remember, you agreed with me when I said there was no point going to the police without proof. And as I recall, it was you who suggested that little midnight escapade that nearly got me killed. The point is I was wrong. Pedersen may be old and doddery but theres nothing wrong with his head. He was very thorough. He spent a lot of time going over her records, her history, her diagnosis, her medications, and he didnt find anything wrong. Hes not involved. He doesnt know the patient, so he cant be biased. Paul, I didnt want to believe him because it made it all seem so futile. Ive always trusted my instincts my intuition whatever you want to call it and I genuinely felt there was something strange not only about her, but about the whole place. But Im prepared to admit I was wrong. Even you suggested I wouldnt find anything wrong with the records. And you were right. Ill probably go on thinking its a strange place but maybe mental institutions are always strange. All I know is that Ive got to get on with what I have to do. Ill chalk up Island View as an unpleasant experience and, in time, probably forget all about it."

...

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Elizabeth Cameron