Dr. Roland nodded adamantly. “You can rest assured it will not happen again.”
Annette cleared her throat of the rising lump. What Paula could have done with scissors chilled her blood. “Can I see my sister now?”
“Certainly.” Roland stood, clearly breathing easier. “But, as I said, she’s heavily sedated.”
Annette pushed to her feet. She felt so tired suddenly. So very tired. “I understand.”
As she walked alongside Dr. Roland, Annette considered the murals on the walls of the corridor. She’d seen them many times before, but she never ceased to be amazed by the detail. Each was designed to lure the minds of the patients who roamed the halls. With autism, most of those like Paula were inclined to retreat to that world in their heads that they alone knew about. The murals and sensory rooms were created specifically to draw them out, to entice them to another place. The whole center was set up in such a way to induce intellectual stimulation or to soothe an outburst in quiet rooms where pale blue was the sole color of walls, floors, and furnishings. Each member of the staff was trained specifically in dealing with the patient’s unique needs.
The place was worth every penny of the hundred-plus grand it cost each year. Paula was safe and happy, at least to the degree possible. She received the finest care available, and all new medical discoveries were hastened into trials here.
Annette didn’t care what she had to do; she would ensure that her sister received this level of care for the rest of her life.
Roland paused at the door to the room. “Let me know if you need anything or if you have any additional questions.”
Annette thanked her before stepping into the room.
Paula lay on her back, arms at her sides, sheet neatly draped over her. Definitely medicated to the max. Paula preferred curling into a ball when she slept.
Annette’s eyes burned when she touched her sister’s hair, which stood like bristles on a brush. How on earth had this happened? Paula lay absolutely still, breathing deep and steady. Annette kissed her cheek and whispered softly in her ear. “I’m here, baby.”
Though her mind was like that of a toddler, sometimes an infant, Paula was three years older than Annette. There were moments when Annette would see recognition in her eyes. Sometimes happiness. But more often than not all Annette saw was that emptiness that left her feeling so utterly desolate and completely inadequate. And alone.
Annette kissed Paula’s forehead and settled into the chair next to her bed. The wrist bracelet she wore identified her as Paula Anderson. Annette disliked the deceit when it came to dealing with Paula. No matter, the step was without question essential to her security. Annette would never take chances with her safety.
Scissors. How could such an oversight have happened? The staff were highly trained and meticulous in their work. Not once in all the years Paula had stayed here had anything like this happened.
The notion that it had now, at this particular time, roused Annette’s anxiety once more.
Could someone have made the connection?
She never allowed the FBI or anyone else to tail her here. Annette was too good for a careless mistake like that.
No need to overreact. Paula was basically unharmed. If Annette’s enemies had wanted to hurt Annette or send her a warning, there were far worse things they could have done.
Like that black sedan that had attempted to follow her when she’d left the courthouse. But she’d given him the slip. And the driver had definitely been male.
Annette shuddered at all the possibilities. She had been protecting Paula since they were little children. Some of the brats in the trailer park where they had lived as kids had liked being mean to Paula. Annette had busted heads. She had grown up tough as nails. At least she had thought she was tough, until, at age twelve, her mother had desertedthem at the Walmart. Their father had disappeared years before that. And the only other man in their lives, the bastard who’d lived with them for three long-ass years, had been dead. Murdered. But he’d deserved exactly what he’d gotten.
The foster care system had taken them in. At first Annette had dreamed of a nice home with two loving caregivers. That dream had shattered in a hurry. What she had gotten was shipped from one household to another. No one wanted to bother with Paula, considering the courts had concluded that she had violent tendencies. Guilt assaulted Annette. She couldn’t count the times she had come home from school and found Paula tied to the bed they shared or locked in a closet. Finally, the system that was supposed to rescue children had dumped Paula in a state institution. Annette had been placed in a home where rebellion wasn’t tolerated on any level. Then another and another after that. The endless stream of so-called caregivers had forced her into one abusive situation after the other. She was fully aware that there were good foster families out there, she had just never been placed with one.
At sixteen Annette had succeeded in running away and staying out of the system’s reach. She’d jumped from the frying pan into the fire. Living on the streets had been brutal. She’d learned to survive on her wits and her physical attributes.
Then one day her manager had sent her to a swanky hotel as part of a group of escorts for visiting businessmen, and Otis Fleming had noticed her. He’d taken her in and taught her how to make something of herself. She owed him everything. He had given her the skills to gain considerable wealth, and that wealth had allowed her to find Paula and place her in the perfect environment for her condition.
No one was going to take that away from her. Annette would do whatever she had to do, stop whoever got in her way, to keep Paula safe.
Images of barbaric sex with Carson Tanner intruded but Annette cast them out. Having sex with Tanner had been part of her strategy, not for her physical pleasure. She didn’t care for sex. It had been years since she had been forced to use it as a tool. She hated that she had tonow. But if that was what it took to keep Carson Tanner off balance, then so be it.
She wasn’t afraid of the local authorities. She wasn’t afraid of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. But Carson Tanner suddenly scared the hell out of her. She thought of the way he had looked at her today.
If he knew about her sister ... no, he had to be bluffing.
Annette needed to maintain control as long as possible while divulging the least amount of information. Information was power, but once released it became impotent. The time had to be right.
Timing was everything.
Her cell vibrated. Annette inhaled a deep, bolstering breath before answering. It was Daniel, her assistant. “Yes, Daniel.”
