They parked near the front entrance, and Mia stepped out of the vehicle to survey the weathered brick building. It stood to about three stories high. An intricate iron sign spread across the second story:Lost Asylum.
Nobody saw the irony in the name? She shook her head.
Manicured lawns spread out on all three sides, now yellow from changing weather. An angry cloud slid over the property. Cold and darkness slithered down.
She shivered, the gun at her waist feeling secure.
Pete lumbered up the walk and shoved open the thick door. Mia followed, automatically scanning the tree line to the west. She’d never look at a forest the same way again.
Did wolves watch?
Only darkness peered through the boughs and trunks.
She turned her attention to a reception area manned by a six-foot female nurse with shoulders wider than Pete’s. Complete in white uniform and cap, the woman frowned. “May I help you?”
Pete faltered and then hitched his belt over his belly, stepping toward the desk. Several empty chairs lined both walls, and pictures of the stars at midnight hung above them. One lone door stood to the right of the reception desk. “Yes. I’m the sheriff. We have an appointment with Eddy Johnson.”
The nurse stared down her nose at Mia. “Who are you?”
“Mia Stone. Deputy.” Mia met the woman’s gaze.
“Humph.” The nurse punched keys on a keyboard, frowned deeper, and hit a button near the wall. The door buzzed and opened. “Come this way.”
Pete waggled his eyebrows at Mia and shoved the door open wider.
The nurse clomped down the hallway, her butt swaying like two cantaloupes in her see-through white pants. “Eddy is waiting for you in the lower reception room. It’s private and quiet.” She stopped in front of a metal door and pushed it open. “I must ask you to control yourselves and not to upset him.”
“We’ll do our best,” Pete muttered, stomping into the room.
Mia followed and fought another shiver as cold air whispered over her arms. Creepy.
A man sat on a sofa facing away from them and toward a wide expanse of windows showcasing a meadow leading to the forest. A rocky mountain rose behind the trees. Howler’s Ridge lived on the other side of the rise.
Pete cleared his throat. The guy didn’t move.
The door shut behind Mia, and she surveyed the room. Two sprawling chairs angled toward the sofa but didn’t block the windows. A fireplace gaped, empty and cold, while pictures of daisies lined the walls.
Taking a deep breath of lemon-cleanser-scented air, she eased around the sofa to take a chair. “Mr. Johnson?” she asked softly.
The man nodded. White hair cascaded to his shoulders and matched the whiskers and eyebrows on his face. He sat in a ratty, maroon-colored robe with fuzzy brown slippers. “I’m Eddy Johnson.” He kept his gaze on the windows. “There’s a storm coming. A big one.”
Pete dropped into the other chair. “Do you mind talking to us for a moment?”
Eddy slowly turned his head to survey Pete and then turned toward Mia. Grooves spread out from his faded blue eyes that didn’t look anything like laugh lines. “You’re different.”
She frowned. “Different? What do you mean, Eddy?”
A smirk lifted his pale lips. “They’ve changed you.”
Mia sat back. Cold prickled down her spine.
Pete rolled his eyes. “Listen, Bub. I know they medicated you for our visit, so just relax and cooperate.”
“Did it hurt?” Eddy asked, leaning forward.
Pete clapped his hands together.
Eddy jumped.
