David felt more depressed than ever as he stumbled back toward his office. Kelley’s intrusion irritated him, yet in some ways Kelley had a point. Money and resources shouldn’t be thrown away on terminal patients when they could be better spent elsewhere. But was that the issue here?
More confused and dejected than he could remember being, David opened the door to his office. He was confronted by a waiting room full of unhappy patients angrily glancing at their watches and noisily flipping through magazines.
Dinner at the Wilson home was a tense affair. No one spoke. Everyone was agitated. It was as if their Shangri-la had gone the way of the weather.
Even Nikki had had a bad day. She was upset about her new teacher, Mr. Hart. The kids had already nicknamed him Mr. Hate. When David and Angela arrived home that evening, she described him as a strict old fart. When Angela chided her about her language, Nikki admitted the description had been Arni’s.
The biggest problem with the new teacher was that he had not allowed Nikki to judge her own level of appropriate exercise during gym and he’d not allowed Nikki to do any postural drainage. The lack of communication had led to a confrontation that had embarrassed Nikki.
After dinner David told everyone that it was time to cheer up. In an attempt to improve the atmosphere he offered to build a cozy fire. But when he descended to the basement, he suffered the shock of seeing yellow crime scene tape around his own basement stairs. It brought back the gruesome image of Hodges’ body.
David gathered the wood quickly and dashed back upstairs. Normally he wasn’t superstitious or easily spooked, but with the recent events he was becoming both.
After building the fire, David began to talk enthusiastically about the upcoming winter and the sports they would soon enjoy: skiing, skating, and sledding. Just when Angela and Nikki were getting in the spirit he’d hoped, headlight beams traversed the wall of the family room. David went to the window.
“It’s a state police van,” he said. “What on earth could they want?”
“I totally forgot,” Angela said, getting to her feet. “When the crime scene people were here today they asked if they could come by when it was dark to look for bloodstains.”
“Bloodstains? Hodges was killed eight months ago.”
“They said it was worth a try,” Angela explained.
The technicians were the same three men who had been there that morning. Angela was impressed with the length of their workday.
“We do a lot of traveling around the state,” Quillan said.
Angela introduced Quillan to David. Quillan seemed to be in charge.
“How does this test work?” David asked.
“The luminol reacts with any residual iron from the blood,” Quillan said. “When it does, it fluoresces.”
“Interesting,” David said, but he remained skeptical.
The technicians were eager to do their test and leave, so David and Angela stayed out of their way. They started in the mud room, setting up a camera on a tripod. Then they turned out all the lights.
They sprayed luminol on the walls using a spray bottle similar to those used for window cleaner. The bottle made a slight hiss with each spray.
“Here’s a little,” Quillan said in the darkness. David and Angela leaned into the room. Along the wall was a faint, spotty, eerie fluorescence.
“Not enough for a picture,” one of the other technicians said.
They circled the room but didn’t find any more positive areas. Then they moved the camera into the kitchen. Quillan asked if the lights could be turned off in the dining room and the hallway. The Wilsons readily complied.
The technicians continued about their business. David, Angela, and Nikki hovered at the doorway.
Suddenly portions of the wall near the mud room began to fluoresce.
“It’s faint, but we got a lot here,” Quillan said. “I’ll keep spraying, you open the shutter on the camera.”
“My God!” Angela whispered. “They’re finding bloodstains all over my kitchen.”
The Wilsons could see vague outlines of the men and hear them as they moved around the kitchen. They approached the table which had been left behind by Clara Hodges and which the Wilsons used when they ate in the kitchen. All at once the legs of the table began to glow in a ghostly fashion.