Final Destinations (cont'd.)

"Her medication?"

"Yes. Julie's psychotic. She's absolutely fine as long as she's taking her medication, but she occasionally goes through these spells when she refuses to take it. I wasn't paying close enough attention, and she locked me in the garage tonight and just wandered off. I'm sure she told you I was planning on killing her. That's one of her paranoid delusions, that I'm trying to kill her. The fact of the matter is, she's more likely to kill me. I've had a few close calls over the past few years, but I have to take care of her. I promised our mother I would."

Landon refused to succumb to the urge to pinch himself. He always hated it when characters in books did that to test whether or not they were dreaming. As if pinching isn't possible in dreams. But that ridiculous old cliche was all that was coming to mind at this point. Better that, though, than all the questions he had. Julie? Psychotic? She was one of the most sane of his co-workers. Happy Julie trying to kill her own brother? Who was this "brother?" Was he the insane one?

"But what about her husband?"

So, he'd managed to ask at least one of the questions, one he hoped didn't make him seem too insane.

"Her husband?"

The tone in the other man's voice didn't sound as though Landon had succeeded. He also didn't sound as though he were acting. If he were, he was doing a damn good job of it.

"Yes. She talks about her husband at work."

"Oh God. I know you have no reason to believe me, but I promise you Julie's never been married. I'm not surprised, though, if she has everyone convinced she is. She's been making up boyfriends and lovers since she was thirteen."

At that moment, Julie appeared from the bathroom. In the dark blue sweater, and with her hair combed, she was beginning to resemble the Julie from the office. But the minute she realized he was on the phone, all the color drained from her face once again.

"It's him, isn't it? Don't let him come to take me home. Please, Landon. Let's get out of here."

"Tell her it's not me," came the calm voice on the other end, as Landon struggled to find his own voice.

"Julie, it's not him. He doesn't know where you are."

"Yes it is. No one else would call at this hour."

"Hold on," he said into the phone, unconsciously wiping the sweat from his forehead. He covered the receiver as if he didn't want the person on the other end to hear what he had to say. "My sister lives in California. She's having a bit of a boyfriend crisis. Could you wait down here, please, while I take this up to my bedroom? We'll turn out the light, and you can lie down on the couch, so if your brother does happen to come, he won't see you through the window."

Somehow, his lie worked, and she was cooperative. He gave her a pillow and a blanket, told her he'd check on her as soon as he was done with his sister, suggested she try to sleep, and carried the phone up to the spare bedroom, across the hall from the other bedroom that he'd shared with Laura. Since her departure, he'd been sleeping in this one.

"She needs her medicine, and she's got to come home," he heard Joe say, as soon as he could turn his attention back to the phone. "She won't sleep at all, and don't leave her alone for more than fifteen minutes. It'll probably be best if I don't come get her. Do you think if I come by your house and leave some sedatives in your mailbox, you would be able to get her to take them? She likes hot chocolate. You could slip them into some hot chocolate. It will knock her out cold, and then you could bring her home."

"I suppose so," Landon said, doubtfully.

"Good. I'll do that then."

As his sister had been a little over an hour ago, he was gone, with no "goodbye" before Landon could say a word. What the hell? Who should he believe? Julie had never seemed the least bit psychotic to him, and she certainly didn't seem dangerous. On the other hand, neither did Joe, whoever he was. If Joe really were her brother, and not her husband, then the argument could certainly be made that she had some sort of screw loose. Sane people certainly didn't tend to go around making up husbands when talking to colleagues, especially collagues they'd worked with for three years. And, come to think of it, she'd never actually said, "my husband Joe," as far as he could recall. She'd say "my husband," or she'd say "Joe." Then again, Landon had never gone around saying "my wife Laura" after initial introductions, and there'd been no introductions with Joe. The bottom line, though, was that if she were living with her brother and not her husband, then something most likely was wrong with her. However, if Joe were her husband, pretending to be her brother, or worse, believing he was her brother, that was even more insane (and probably more dangerous).

(To be continued.)