The Girl in Area One

THE GIRL IN AREA ONE A MACY ELLIS PUGET SOUND MYSTERY BOOK ONE EVA BLUE DARKNESS AND LIGHT PUBLISHING CONTENTS I. Assessment, Diagnosis, and Intervention Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 II. Cognitive Dissonance Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 III. Final Prognosis Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Chapter 48 Chapter 49 Chapter 50 About the Author What to Read Next A NOTE TO THE READER While many locations in this book are true to life, some details of the settings have been changed or borrowed from my husband’s novels, The Thomas Austin Crime Thrillers. Gonzo is the only character who’s real, her mannerisms taken from our dog Buffy, who my daughter named after the vampire slayer. I have to admit that Macy’s mother and father are exaggerated caricatures that do resemble my own parents. I couldn’t imagine more entertaining and endearing folks than my own. Any other resemblances between characters in this book and actual people is purely coincidental. One more note: after editing and helping plot stories with my husband, D.D. Black, for over ten years, I have learned a lot. But I could not have created this book without his encouragement and help. It has been a lot of fun creating worlds—both fictional and real life—with this man. Oh, and one more, one more note: I want to thanks my family and friends, my coworker family, and my patients and their families, too. You all inspire me and give my life meaning. I am so grateful. Thanks for reading, Eva Blue “Let us never consider ourselves finished nurses… we must be learning all of our lives.” - Florence Nightingale “So much to do, so little done, such things to be.” - Elizabeth Taylor “Mystery is something that appeals to most everybody.” - Angela Lansbury PART I ASSESSMENT, DIAGNOSIS, AND INTERVENTION CHAPTER 1 HANSVILLE, WASHINGTON, WESTERN PUGET SOUND I’d had a rough year, and it was about to get worse. Red, white, and blue lights pierced my sleep, jolting me awake. My eyes snapped open and I squinted at the red glow of my alarm clock. 3:18 AM A police siren blasted, then stopped abruptly. Its echo reverberated through my tiny beach house, making my heart race and transforming my confusion into fear. I rolled up and out of the permanent indentation my body had worn into my twenty-year-old bed. The first generation memory foam mattress couldn’t remember a damned thing. I floundered through my bedroom, keeping low to the ground. The floor was littered with a week's worth of dirty clothes and, in my groggy state, I tripped over a laundry basket. Adrenaline pumping through my veins, I stumbled out of my bedroom, cursing under my breath. Grabbing the baseball bat I kept near the door, I peered through the front window. The flashing lights of emergency vehicles painted the wet street in a kaleidoscope of amber and blue. Chaos was unfolding at Bob's house. My heart sank as I watched the paramedics wheel out a stretcher carrying a shiny black body bag. I knew without a doubt it was Bob, my ninety-six-year-old neighbor who lived next door. My house previously belonged to my grandmother. I moved in twenty years ago with my soon-to-be ex-husband, Kenny, when my grandmother needed help and moved in with my mother, who lives six miles away. When I was young, I was afraid of Bob. He was quiet and kept to himself. As an adult, Bob no longer scared me, but he was still quiet and kept to himself. I knew nothing about the man even though I had known him for over four decades. He had probably lived in this house next to my grandmother for decades before I was even born. The last time I saw Bob alive was just a week ago. I came home to the old man dangling halfway up a tree using a leather belt and his spiked tree-climbing shoes, no safety harness or ropes. An old chainsaw dangled from the rope tied to his belt. “What are you doing?” I had yelled. “Don’t you know I’m off duty? Don’t make me come over there and be your nurse.” I had worked in geriatrics for a decade and loved to see folks over ninety kicking ass and taking names. But seeing Bob thirty feet in the air and wielding a chainsaw scared the hell out of me. “Kid, I’m ninety-six,” he’d said. “Never needed a nurse before and I ain’t gonna need one today. You’d be needing a roofing company if this branch had come down. And, you’d be the one needing a nurse if it came through at the wrong time.” Now, as I watched the paramedics parade him across his well manicured lawn, I was overcome with guilt and sadness, realizing I hadn't thought to check on him in the past few days. Or, come to think of it, ever. I opened the door and stepped outside, the chilly night air nipping at my skin. The hum of the firetruck, ambulance, and police car engines drowned out the soft lapping of waves I would otherwise hear coming from the shore of the beach fifty feet from my house. I was still wearing my pajamas, but I didn't care. I needed to see what had happened. I approached one of the paramedics while still clutching my baseball bat. “Was it Bob?” I asked. “The old man who lives here?” He nodded. “Little dog was barking its head off for the last four hours. Neighbors knocked on the