Cry From The Grave
Chapter 29
Anna Barber had managed to work through her first two hours without plunging into one of her sour moods. While some argued this was due to a personality defect, she maintained that no one worth their salt could stay in hospice care for too long without the presence of death invading their spirit. Some days, she believed, it was all she could do to roll out of bed and face the patient, people whom she didn't know would be alive in half a year, a month, or in some cases a week.
Still, this seemed like a morning of generous contentment, even if not joy, for Anna was performing her tasks with smooth efficiency. She had checked the charts for three patients while Beverly Overton took the others in an agreed division of labor. Breakfast had started on time and neither Helen Smith, Verna McBride, nor Daryl Goodspeed had overtly complained as she checked their vitals. The only uncomfortable moment was when Goodspeed requested his medication levels be changed and was none too pleased when Anna told him that, until they had a licensed physician as acting executive director, she couldn't just sign off on any medical orders.
It was when Anna crossed the narthex toward Isabel Andrews' office that she noticed an anomaly. Light was peeking out from under the walnut-stained chapel doors. Anna's brow scrunched at this discovery. She recalled having seen Father Giles' car in the parking lot before she arrived, but the rush of clocking in, signing shift change reports, gathering supplies, and beginning her checkups on patients, the priest's whereabouts never crossed her mind. Until now.
She arrived at Isabel Andrews' door, and the nursing director turned to her, cupping her hand over the phone.
"Anna," she said furtively, "have you seen Father Giles anywhere?"
"No," Anna replied. "I mean, I just walked past the chapel and there seems to be a small bit of light peeking under the closed doors."
"Well, his wife's on the line and she's hysterical. She just woke up about thirty minutes ago. She said he was going to work here last night and go home late. She didn't think he'd wake her then, but she believed for sure she'd see him this morning. Are you sure you haven't seen him at all today?"
Shaking her head no, Anna remained silent and stone-faced, bolted to the spot.
"Come with me, Anna," the nursing director ordered, and they traversed to the southeast hall, making their way to the chaplain's study.
No one. Locked.
Angered, they circled back into the narthex. Passing the chapel, Isabel noticed the light peeking out under the chapel doors.
"Why is a light on?" she asked aloud. "Rory doesn't have them on unless a service is imminent. Office doors locked and the lights on in the chapel?"
"It doesn't make sense," Anna sighed, as she saw to her consternation that her boss was grasping the door handle and pushing the wooden slab forward.
Nothing could have prepared anyone for the grisly vision spread at the feet of the large crucifix in the front. The body lay still, cold and blood-spattered, neatly placed on the altar. As Anna stumbled forward, her voice caught in a choke she could not overcome. Father Giles lay with his eyes looking toward heaven, his head badly bruised and a trail of blood leading from the middle aisle toward the altar, where it pooled eerily behind his head. And if that were not enough, the cross altarpiece was laid neatly across his chest, which rose and fell no more.
It was at that moment that Anna Barber heard a piercing scream of hope-demolishing terror. It was in the next instant she realized the scream belonged to her.
It was when Anna crossed the narthex toward Isabel Andrews' office that she noticed an anomaly. Light was peeking out from under the walnut-stained chapel doors. Anna's brow scrunched at this discovery. She recalled having seen Father Giles' car in the parking lot before she arrived, but the rush of clocking in, signing shift change reports, gathering supplies, and beginning her checkups on patients, the priest's whereabouts never crossed her mind. Until now.
She arrived at Isabel Andrews' door, and the nursing director turned to her, cupping her hand over the phone.
"Anna," she said furtively, "have you seen Father Giles anywhere?"
"No," Anna replied. "I mean, I just walked past the chapel and there seems to be a small bit of light peeking under the closed doors."
"Well, his wife's on the line and she's hysterical. She just woke up about thirty minutes ago. She said he was going to work here last night and go home late. She didn't think he'd wake her then, but she believed for sure she'd see him this morning. Are you sure you haven't seen him at all today?"
Shaking her head no, Anna remained silent and stone-faced, bolted to the spot.
"Come with me, Anna," the nursing director ordered, and they traversed to the southeast hall, making their way to the chaplain's study.
No one. Locked.
Angered, they circled back into the narthex. Passing the chapel, Isabel noticed the light peeking out under the chapel doors.
"Why is a light on?" she asked aloud. "Rory doesn't have them on unless a service is imminent. Office doors locked and the lights on in the chapel?"
"It doesn't make sense," Anna sighed, as she saw to her consternation that her boss was grasping the door handle and pushing the wooden slab forward.
Nothing could have prepared anyone for the grisly vision spread at the feet of the large crucifix in the front. The body lay still, cold and blood-spattered, neatly placed on the altar. As Anna stumbled forward, her voice caught in a choke she could not overcome. Father Giles lay with his eyes looking toward heaven, his head badly bruised and a trail of blood leading from the middle aisle toward the altar, where it pooled eerily behind his head. And if that were not enough, the cross altarpiece was laid neatly across his chest, which rose and fell no more.
It was at that moment that Anna Barber heard a piercing scream of hope-demolishing terror. It was in the next instant she realized the scream belonged to her.
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