Viper's Nest by Shirley Raye Redmond

Author:Shirley Raye Redmond [Redmond, Shirley Raye]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: christian Fiction
ISBN: 9781611165012
Publisher: Pelican Ventures Book Group
Published: 2015-06-30T16:00:00+00:00

8

“Allan, come look at this.” Wren’s voice was shrill with the excitement of discovery.

Her face glowed with an eagerness Allan found appealing. He felt a stirring inside, the sort he hadn’t experienced in quite some time. He allowed his gaze to linger longer than he should have on her full, parted lips.

“What is it?”

Wren had opened one of the boxes from Dr. Leadill. Inside there was a stack of file folders, faded with age, some notebooks, an appointment calendar with the spiral edging partially unraveled, and a small metal box labeled INFIRMARY. Wren had opened this and now held several index cards in her hand.

“Here’s proof!” she declared, eyes wide with delight.

“Proof of what?”

Wren handed him one of the cards. As she did so, her arm brushed against his. He felt the softness of her flesh through her sweater. Or had he only imagined it? With an effort, Allan forced himself to concentrate on the matter at hand.

“Your mother and Freddy Grizzard were in the asylum infirmary at the same time. Maybe they knew each other. They may have met briefly and spoken to one another. See?” Wren handed him a dog-eared index card.

Allan read the faded handwritten notes scribbled upon it. There was his mother’s full name and the dates she’d been admitted into the infirmary following her near-fatal fall from the staircase. Grizzard was mentioned as well but only by his last name. Apparently, he had been treated for a burn on his arm.

“It doesn’t say Fred Grizzard,” he observed.

Wren gave him an incredulous stare. “The name Grizzard is hardly a common one. Who else could it be?”

“Remember, Wren, there were thousands of patients in the asylum.” Handing her the card, he picked up one of the bulging files from the desk. As he quickly glanced through the contents, he noted lists of patients who’d died at the asylum, with notations by each name indicating that they had either been buried on hospital grounds or family members had claimed their bodies. It was obvious, even with only a quick perusal, that his mother had been one of the few lucky ones who had been buried by her family.

He scanned another series of lists stating the sorts of illnesses and accidents treated in the infirmary, everything from broken bones and whooping cough to physical complications caused by spina bifida and tuberculosis. One man had been kicked in the head by a mule. He apparently had survived the injury, but never regained his full mental faculties.

“So why do you think Dr. Leadill really loaned you these files?” Wren asked, slipping the index card back into the box.

“To help me with the research for my book,” he replied, giving her a sidelong look.

“Do you really think so? I don’t.”

“Then why do you think she offered to let me look through them?” Allan asked.

“Well, she said she wanted to be acknowledged in your book, but it can’t be that simple.”

“Why not?” he demanded.

“Because she wants to read the manuscript before you send it to your editor,” Wren reminded him.

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