Helltown - Jeremy Bates Page 0,53

her house for a week, eating her food and dressing in her clothes, before being discovered by the mailman. After this the community came together to form a civic association that convened with hospital administrators on how to keep the community safe, an association that existed to this day.

Given how terrified Lynette had been of the lunatic asylum growing up, it was ironic she would wind up working there. But when you grew up in a small town, and had no ambitions of leaving it, you took whatever work came your way. After graduating high school, Lynette was hired as a part-time receptionist at the local doctor’s office to cover for a woman away on maternity leave. When the woman returned a short month later, Lynette worked the odd shift at a dairy bar before hearing about a position for a medical transcriptionist at the asylum. Thankfully most of her father’s horror stories proved to be false. The lunatic asylum was by no means paradise. There were metal doors that locked behind her everywhere she went, most of the patients wandered in circles, and only a few had teeth due to the psych meds that dried out their mouths. However, there were no sadistic orderlies or rotting bodies or murderous patients—none that she came into contact with, at least.

When Spencer began working there as a psychiatrist, Lynette fell for him right away. He was not a particularly attractive man. He was stout and had a weak chin. But he had a full head of glorious red hair, and he was positively charming. They went steady for six months before he proposed to her. They married soon after and tried for years to conceive a child but were never successful. Eventually, after several consultations with their doctor, it was determined that Lynette was infertile.

Over the next decade they grew apart. Lynette stopped working at the asylum and became something of a lonely spinster, while Spencer did the opposite, immersing himself in the community and his work. Their relationship deteriorated to such an extent she now sensed he privately resented her, as if she were his ball and chain, preventing him from fully enjoying his life. She no longer thought of him as a husband but more of a stranger—a stranger living in her house and sleeping in her bed. This was accentuated by the fact that Spencer, physically, barely resembled the young man who had swept her off her feet. Some years ago he’d gotten into bodybuilding, and he could no longer be described as stout; he was a wrecking ball, with a bull neck, barrel chest, and bulging biceps. Also, he’d grown a beard. It had been her suggestion, because she’d known how self-conscious he’d been about his weak chin. But he continued to grow it out until it reached its current length, which stopped just short of his waistline.

Lynette dumped the remaining dishes she’d collected in the sink and filled the basin with hot water and dish soap. Spencer stuffed his notepad back in his pocket just as the telephone on the nearby table rang.

Spencer picked up the receiver and said hello. He listened for a few seconds, turning his back to her. “Stay there,” he said finally in a low voice. “I’m coming right now.” He hung up.

“Has something happened?” she asked.

“Yes,” he told her curtly. “You’ll be fine by yourself?”

“I think I’ll draw a bath, then retire early. I’ve been a little tired recently.”

“Can’t imagine why,” he said. “You never leave the house.” He cleared his throat. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“No, you’re right. I should look into a hobby of some sort.”

“Why don’t you join that book club at the library? They meet every Tuesday, I believe.”

“I’ll think about it.”

He nodded, took the car keys from the pegboard, then left through the back door.

Without his briefcase, she noted.

Lynette watched Spencer through the window over the sink as he hurried through the rain to the garage, pulled up the roller door, and stepped inside. A few moments later headlights flooded the gravel driveway and his silver Volvo sedan appeared momentarily before disappearing from her line of sight.

Lynette dried her hands on a dish towel, then hurried to the front of the house. She pulled aside a blind in the darkened foyer and peered through the small beveled window as the Volvo continued down the driveway and turned left, disappearing behind the forest of trees.

Lynette went immediately to Spencer’s study. She’d been contemplating divorcing Spencer for some