The Corn Snake Preteneds to be a Rattler for Intimidation Purposes Only

“Ok,” said the inspector as he stood in the hall way with the head nurse. “I agree, I don’t see any other way that this can be done.”

                “I’m glad you understand,” said the nurse as he looked knowingly at the man. “I feel like it would be too dangerous for us to attempt to move him without using a sedative.”

                “We are going to need to get permission from the judge in order to put him under again,” said the nurse. “You’ve already kept him here past his twenty-four hour holding period.” He gave the inspector gave him a stern look.

                “Well what were we supposed to do? The maniac was bleeding out in his cell,” exclaimed the man. He then threw his hands up to his forehead and grimaced, “Oh shit…”

                The nurse place his large hand on the investigator’s shoulder and asked, “Are you alright?”

                “Yeah,” he replied, shrugging off the nurse. “Just a hangover.”

                Last night had been a total disaster, not that he remembered much of it; just visions of the shrink sneering down at him, him toppling out of a chair, and throwing up on the carpet. He could remember a fight, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember what it had been about. That worried him. He hated the idea that that creep may or may not have something over his head. He likes to pretend to be all innocent and clever, but he really is only a dirty little sneak. Sometimes the investigator wondered if the shrink was the monster that he should really be fighting.

                “I have something in my desk that might help you,” offered the nurse.

                “Nah, I’ll be fine,” muttered the inspector. “I’m going to go ahead and find that judge to get your approval. Let me know if anything important happens.”

                “Will do,” said the nurse. “Drink lots of water, you’re dehydrated and need lots of liquids.”

                The inspector just gave him a dark look before turning around and stalking down the hallway.

                “Why the hell couldn’t he have just text me this? Making me walk all the way over here and then back. Does nobody you the damn phone anymore?!” he muttered to himself. He wasn’t feeling very charitable today.

                “Hey!” called the nurse behind him.

                “God, what is it now?” he mumbled to himself. He turned back around and tried to put on the best polite smile he could muster. “Yes, sir!” he called down the hallway towards the advancing man.

                “I forgot to mention,” said the nurse. “The lunatic has got himself a lawyer.”

                The inspector searched his face for any sign that he may be kidding, “Are you serious?” he asked.

                “Yes sir, it was some fierce, little woman with a fancy suit and briefcase,” he said. “She looked like she meant business.”

                “Well, that’s not good,” said the inspector, almost to himself.

                “No sir,” agreed the nurse.

                “Where is she now?” the inspector shot a glance back towards the room where Mr. Brooks was being held.

                “Not here anymore,” the nurse said. “I over-heard them talking in there. I think she is going to go see that shrink.”

                “Oh shit,” swore the inspector and he took off down the hall way. He had to get there before she did. This was going to end so badly.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

                It seemed like she had been around the building at least twice, and there was no sign of the shrink’s office. She began to wonder if her client actually knew what he was talking about. He had been through a rough couple of days, on top of whatever psychological ailment that he obviously was suffering from. No. that’s not right. He wasn’t suffering, she suddenly realized. Besides the fact that he was in a prison hospital, he seemed just fine and dandy. Maybe that’s what was so unnerving about him; you knew he was sick, but not because he told you or showed it.

                She walked by the elevator for the third time, and sighed. She was getting nowhere. She looked down at her watch to see how long she had been pacing the halls, but then she realized that she didn’t know what time she had gotten up here. That’s not helpful. Maybe she should go back down? She could go back across the street and tell the voice that he had gotten it wrong. But she stopped. She couldn’t do that.

“Your dispensable,” the voice crept through her mind. He would surly fire her on the spot.

                She glared at the elevator button, maybe she could go back and tell him that he wasn’t in the office? But then he would just send her back over here with a note to put on his door. Maybe she could just knock on of the other offices and ask for directions? And look like a child who lost their mother in the grocery store!? No way. If she was going to get to the shrink, she was going to do it on her terms, with her own power.

                She turned at the heel and began to trace her steps back down the hallway, when the elevator gave off a soft chime and the doors slid open. She turned and faced the elevator, squared off her shoulders and put on the best professional smile she could muster. Not too big to look fake, but not too small so that it makes her look creepy.

                A man wearing an extremely wrinkled suit jumped out of the elevator and looked manically both directions until his eyes landed on Bethany. Before she could shield herself with her bag, the man had sprung over to her and grabbed her arm. She tried to pull away, but he had her in a vice grip. “Hey buddy,” she said. “What the hell do you want?!” He smelled of bile, and she didn’t even want to know the origin of the stain on the front of his white button up. He reached behind him and pulled out his wallet and flipped it open saying, “I am the head investigator on the Brooks case.”

                She looked into his crazy eyes and said, “I’m so relieved. Now what the hell do you want with me?”

                “Are you Mr. Brooks’ attorney, Bethany Rodgers?” he pulled her closer to his body, which made her begin to resist the urge to throw up all over the red carpet.

                “Yes, I am,” she stammered. “Now let go of me!”

                He released her and crammed the wallet back into his pocket, “You shouldn’t be up here, ma’am. I’m going to have to escort you back downstairs.”

                “You don’t understand, inspector,” she shot back at him. “I have an appointment with the court psychologist on behalf of my client.

                The inspector held the door open to the elevator and began motioning her in and said, “I’m sorry but you don’t…” but was cut off by a new voice that had entered the hallway.

                “How do you know what my appointment schedule looks like?” Bethany looked up at the other man that had joined them in the corridor. He was much taller than the inspector; however, he was much thinner as well. He had sharp features and rather large eyes. He wore awkwardly casual clothing, jeans, sneakers, a t-shirt with a blazer over it, and his hair was rather long and shaggy.

                “Ms. Rodgers, I assume?” he looked down at Bethany.

                Bethany straightened up and squared off her shoulders again and reached out her hand to the man in the blazer, “I am Bethany Rodgers. Would you mind if I had a few words with you in your office?”

                The man smiled and took her hand in a firm grip; she was almost alarmed by how long and boney his fingers were. “Of course not,” he said cheerfully. “Right this way!” and he lead her off in the direction she had originally came from.

                Of course, she thought to herself, she had just missed it.

                “Come along, if you wish inspector,” called the shrink behind him at the dumbfounded officer. He was still stationed at the elevator beckoning Bethany in, with a look of morbid shock on his face.