Читать книгу Unfinished Business - C. A. Walters Walters - Страница 10

This was the place the latest reports had come from. Nestled in the hills near the town of Lowell, Massachusetts, the little nursing home looked quaint and peaceful.

For the most part, the patients were content, this was a bit more upscale than most, and there were nice gardens to relax in, and the food was on a much better level than most.

Of course, there were the Alzheimer’s patients, lost inside their own minds, bodies still alive, but seemingly nobody home. Most people felt truly bad for them, but there was always the exception.

Russell Winston was a loner. Acne scars left his face looking like a bas relief of the lunar surface, and the under bite he was stuck with didn’t help any either. All but ignored by the opposite sex, Russell had turned to fantasies and masturbation as a teenager, and had not really progressed much beyond that in the intervening fifteen years or so.

At first, getting the job as an orderly on the night shift had been a bummer, but then again, he didn’t have a night life anyway. Somehow he had lucked out and gotten accepted into a Certified Nurse’s Aide program at the local community college, and with a little creative cheating, had managed (barely) to graduate. Since he had a clean police record (the police scared him so badly he didn’t even speed!), he had been able to land a job in this particular home. The pay wasn’t great, but they did have major medical, and that was a help, since he had also been “blessed” with minor but very irritating health problems, not the least of which was chronic psoriasis, which made the skin on his arms somewhat disgusting to look at.

After a couple of months in the home, he realized that some of the Alzheimer’s patients had no idea where they were, or what was going on. One night, old lady Nelson had wet herself (again), and he had to change her diaper. After he washed her, he decided to have a little fun. Since she was naked anyway, it was nothing to get a little lubricating jelly, and do his thing.

Since he got away with it, he started making a habit of “getting a little” every couple of nights, either with her, or whoever happened to be available. One time, he even buggered old man Jacobs. But Ms. Nelson was by far his favorite. She might moan a little, but other than that, she didn’t even acknowledge that he was in the room.

Unfortunately for him, one of the nurses had gotten suspicious, and called the anonymous hot line maintained by that wonderful organization that put together such nice parties for the old folks.

The Hunter had received word that something awful was occurring there, because he was tied in to the organization’s computer network.

He decided to do a little surveillance, so he would have firsthand knowledge of just what was going on there.

Hacking into their computer system was a snap, so he placed an order for a repairman to come do routine maintenance on the sprinkler system that week.

Arriving at the home, in a set of coveralls with the logo of a local fire equipment supply company, he charmed the receptionist with a little smooth talk.

She liked the way his brown eyes were set off by the darkness of his black hair. And at six foot two, with such wide shoulders and slender waist, he definitely fell into the category of “hunk”. After setting her mind at ease, he set to work checking the sprinklers.

Of course, he also fulfilled the real reason he was there, placing a few hidden cameras and microphones in strategic locations. This way he could monitor some of the patient’s rooms, and verify what he had been told.

Two nights later, the microphone in room 203 picked up the sound of a muffled woman’s voice, then a man saying “Just keep quiet, this will only take a minute. If you knew what was going on, you’d love what I’m doing. I know I’m a great lover!”

Turning to the video feed he had set up in the light fixture, he saw the lady who lived in that room; face down on the bed, with an orderly on top of her, his pants down around his ankles, thrusting into her like it was their honeymoon. The muffled voice was explained by the fact that he kept her face pushed into the pillow, not hard enough to suffocate her, but enough that she could not be heard. A bottle of lubricant was visible on the floor next to the bed, apparently dropped there by the orderly.

Looking into his database, he found that the woman listed in that room was 83 years old, and suffered from extreme dementia. So nobody would believe her if she did tell, and she probably wouldn’t remember enough to say anything anyway.

The Hunter turned off the video and audio feeds, and started researching the orderly he had seen in the video. Name, address, it was all at his fingertips, thanks to the home’s database.

This one was a real animal, a total loser who didn’t deserve to waste the oxygen of real people. The Hunter would make certain that his habit of doing so would soon come to a stop.

Now all he had to do was to study his prey, and make his plans. This one would be special, no quick death for him, he had to suffer some of the pain and degradation he had visited upon the patients he was supposed to have been helping, and the Hunter wanted to send a message to anyone who would do such a sick thing to a sweet old lady like that. A strong message…