Chapter 2: Lust for a Lady

Grace watched through the windshield of her gray Chrysler 200 at the armored transport pulling in front of the Havenswood Psychiatric Facility. She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel impatiently as she waited for the prisoner to disembark.

Two uniformed officers opened the back doors, and brought out Catherine Balko, wrists and ankles shackled tightly. She was dressed in a light blue jumpsuit for now, but her wardrobe would be changing soon enough. To Grace's displeasure, Catherine wore the same defiant expression she had the day she was arrested.

The officers took Catherine by the arms and led her into the facility, each step feeling like a momentous triumph to Grace.

It was then that Grace noted that she was near starving. She'd skipped breakfast and hadn't gotten around to lunch yet, and she could smell the aroma of chili cheese fries from nearby. One of the hospital workers must have made a run to the hot dog stand down the road.

Grace felt her belly rumble, and memories from her childhood of eating chili cheese fries with her sister at Uncle Mickey's coney stand near her grandparents' cottage played through her head. Grace smiled fondly, and wondered briefly if Uncle Mickey's was still open. Mickey was such a sweet old man; he'd always given Nora and her extra cheese on their fries for free.

Grace put her hunger out of her mind, and hopped out of her car. Her appetite could wait.

It was standard protocol at Havenswood for a newly admitted patient to strip nude and be subjected to a full body cavity search prior to entry. While Catherine's money did earn her some preferential treatment during her sentencing, it did not get her out of the strip search.

George Buttrey had been a nurse at Havenswood for nine years, and the only pleasure he got from his job was strip searching female patients. He knew who Catherine Balko was, and he knew what she had done, and he could not have cared less. As soon as the buxom handcuffed woman walked through the doors to his hospital, George had already undressed her with his eyes.

"All right, honeytits, time to wiggle your ass on out of that there jumpsuit an' lose the undies," George said, as the officers unlocked her restraints. Catherine stared at George incredulously.

"I beg your pardon?" Catherine asked.

"You heard me," George said. "Before we get you to your padded room and give you your koo-koo meds, first things first. You're getting a strip search."

Catherine shot a glance back at her accompanying officers, who were already making their way back to the prison transport, glad to have her off their hands.

"I don't allow men to see me nude," Catherine said. "Find a woman to search me if you must."

George grinned.

"I do the strip searches, toots," George said, smacking his chewing gum.

"Let me tell you a story," Catherine said, calmly. "There was a young man named Dylan Becket, who was a guest in my home recently. Now, I was preparing for a bath, and I asked this young man to avert his eyes while I disrobed. Well wouldn't you know it, this young man pulled off the blindfold I generously provided him, and proceeded to gawk at me while I stood there, stark naked."

George grinned.

"Nice," he said. He slid his hand into his pants and fondled his genitals.

"Do you know what I did to this young man?" Catherine asked. She looked at George, awaiting an answer.

George pulled his hand from his pants and plunged his fingers into Catherine's mouth. Catherine gagged as George wriggled his dirt-encrusted digits around her tongue and between her gums and cheeks.

"Nope, and I don't give a fart," George said. He pulled his hand from Catherine's mouth, and wiped both sides of his saliva-covered appendage between her breasts. Catherine coughed loudly, and spat out a pubic hair clinging to her lips. She stared at George, open-mouthed in shock.

"Well, one body cavity searched, two more to go," George said. "Now, you gonna drop your duds for me? Or do I got to get out the hose?"

The stare Catherine gave would have curdled the blood of any person less jaded than George Buttrey. He simply leered at her disdainfully as she stripped off her jumpsuit and undergarments. His eyes passed across her body, admiring her breasts, legs, belly, and trimmed pussy. Although much of her beauty had faded since her arrest, Catherine still appeared unnaturally young for her age. George smiled and let out a wolf whistle.

"Virgin blood huh? That's your secret?"

Catherine narrowed her eyes and clenched her jaw. She seethed with rage as George circled around her to check out her behind.

"Well, you've held up damn well," George remarked.

"Are you finished?" Catherine snapped.

"Ah-yup," George said. "Time to get this show on the rode then."

He wrapped a latex glove around his hand, and moistened his index finger with K-Y Jelly.

"All right, spread your legs for me darlin', nice and wide," George said. "For a dyke this might feel mighty strange."

Grace happened by the arrival room just in time to see George's finger three knuckles deep into Catherine's anus. Catherine's knees buckled as George pumped his finger in and out of her tight opening.

"Serves you right," Grace said to herself, steaming. As much as she enjoyed seeing Catherine humiliated, she was not who Grace had come to Havenswood to see.

He was in his room, staring out the window, when Grace entered. Joe didn't know she was here; he would have forbidden it, but Grace wanted to be the one to tell him.

"Mr. Becket?" Grace began.

Daniel turned around to see his new visitor. He smiled when he saw her. She was pleased to see he was looking better. His beard was trimmed and his hair looked as if it had been washed recently.

"I was worried I'd never get a chance to apologize to you," Daniel said.

Grace nodded understandingly.

"Don't. You've been through too much," Grace said. She sat down onto the bed. "I came by to tell you about your son. We found his body. He'd been dead for two months- according to the coroner."

Daniel went still.

"We're still looking for your daughter, but we have a confession from the person who claims to have buried her."

Daniel stared Grace in the eye.

"He killed both of my children?" Daniel asked.

"Not he. Catherine Balko did. We got her. And we'll find Lukas, I promise."

Grace swallowed. She knew it would be a mistake to let Daniel know Catherine was downstairs, but he would likely find out regardless. Still, it seemed wrong to Grace not to tell him who had killed his son, though she left out the fact that Dylan had been discovered in a casket buried alive, with his eyes scratched out.

Daniel walked to the door and paced back to the window.

"You need to get me out of here."

"I can't do that, Mr. Becket."

"You know I don't belong here."

"Well-" Grace started, but didn't know how to finish.

"I shouldn't be in here! I was right! Lukas Balko is a fucking vampire and I'm stuck in this goddamn hell hole while he's out there!"

"Mr. Becket, you're in here because you choked your daughter and attacked your son with a knife!"

Daniel stared at Grace, examining her. He turned to the mirror and stared at his reflection.

"I- was confused."

"Confused?" Grace asked, eyebrows raised.

"She does that. She gets inside your head! Makes you do things! She's a succubus!"

"Who?"

"My wife! Lukas brought her back from the dead and that's what she is now!"

Grace sighed. The man she once knew, who saved her life fifteen years earlier, was no more. She remembered him once calmly and rationally explaining to one of her classmates who was convinced psychics could legitimately communicate with the dead how Harry Houdini and his wife had proven them to be frauds. The paranoid, delusional mental patient who stood before her now was a different man.

"I'm gonna find him, Mr. Becket," Grace said. "I swear."

"And my wife," Daniel said. "Gabby deserves peace."

Grace paused.

"I'll find her too." She hoped she sounded convincing.

Grace quickly went to the door.

"You don't believe me," Daniel snapped.

Grace stopped. Shit. She turned to face Daniel, to give him the dignity of eye contact.

"Just get well, Mr. Becket."

She walked out.

"Medicine time!"

George barged into Catherine's room, shaking a small plastic cup full of pills. Catherine leaped to her feet and backed into a corner.

"I'm not taking any more of your pills, George," she said, holding her crossed arms in front of her.

George smiled cockily. He admired Catherine's figure in her short gown. He'd personally selected it knowing it would be too small to adequately cover her figure.

"Oh, you're gonna take these pills, honeybuns. Even if they have to go in the backdoor."

Catherine spat in George's face. He grinned.

"Ooh, do that again, baby," George chuckled.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" Catherine screamed, unable to back into the wall any further than she already was.

"Little help in here?" George shouted.

Two orderlies promptly entered, grabbed Catherine's arms, and held her face down onto the bed. George lifted the bottom of Catherine's gown, and groped her panty-clad bottom with his grubby fingers.

"Oh yes," he said with a, excited smile.

He slipped his tongue into the waistband of her panties, and biting down, used his teeth to slowly slide them off. Catherine groaned in disgust.

"Sorry babe, but this is how it's got to be done."

He wet one finger in his mouth, and inserted it into Catherine's anus. She jerked, but the orderlies held her in place as George wiggled his finger around, lubing up Catherine's back entrance and preparing it for the incoming delivery.

The orderlies each helped to spread apart her ass cheeks, while George plugged the pills into her anus, one by one.

"There we go. There we go," George said, patting Catherine on the butt when he was finished. He left her gown up, so her ass was still exposed, while one of the orderlies handcuffed her hands to the bedpost.

"Can't have you pulling those out, now," the orderly said.

"You're just going to leave me like this?" Catherine screamed.

"'Til you learn to play nice," George said. He and the orderlies laughed and walked out of the room.

Catherine seethed, rage pumping throughout her body. Pure hatred burned the very fabric of her soul. She stared longingly out the heavily barred window, and summoning the demoness from within her, she screamed. She screamed long and loud, but her cries were only drowned out by the ramblings of the other patients in the facility.

She struggled with her handcuffs for what felt like hours, but the metal bracelets did not budge. She'd only managed to work the top sheet off the bed to place under her knees, which had grown brittle with age over the past month, and she got her gown back down to cover her naked rear again as well.

Darkness had set in, and George still had not returned to release her. She rattled her handcuffs against the bedpost, screaming, but was met only with the wails from patients from neighboring rooms.

"DAMN YOU!" she screamed, but to whom she was addressing, she was unsure. George alone was not responsible for her misery.

She buried her face into the bedspread and sobbed, praying the hard, uncomfortable mattress she'd been sleeping on for the past month could silence her agony and deny George the satisfaction of knowing how much she was suffering.

And then the door opened.

It remained open for nearly a minute, when Catherine heard footsteps enter the room and the door close behind them.

Catherine was compelled to speak first.

"Are you going to uncuff me or not?"

"I'm afraid that's not why I'm here, sister."

Catherine turned around in shock.

"Luke."

Lukas smiled.

"Hello, Catherine. You've looked better."

"Can't say the same about you," Catherine said wryly. Indeed, Lukas was dressed in one of his finest suits, with his hair was combed back in the signature style of the early 20th century. He looked no older than thirty-five, despite his much more advanced age.

Catherine on the other hand, had lost many years in her time at Havenswood; her hair was now almost entirely gray. She massaged her aching bony wrists where the handcuffs secured her.

"Did you bring me what I asked for?" Catherine asked.

"I didn't come all this way just to mock you," Lukas said. He produced from his jacket pocket a brass key. It had a carving of a skull in the handle, with deep red jewels in the eyes. A thin chain was looped through the handle. Lukas gripped the key by the chain, and held it out to Catherine. He placed it into her open hands.

"I do hope they've been treating you well here. I know how these places can be," Lukas said. He ran his fingertip against the plain white wall and a series of bitter memories coursed through his mind.

"You've never forgiven me for putting you away, have you?" Catherine asked.

"Forgiven? Yes. Forgotten? Never, I'm afraid," Lukas said. He rolled his hand into a fist, suppressing the years of hatred he once held for his sister. But that was in the past, as he assured her- and himself, time and again.

"She's coming after you, you know," Catherine said. "The detective."

"You let me worry about Harker," Lukas said. "I have something very special planned for her."

"Good," Catherine said. "I want that bitch to suffer. Promise me."

Lukas leaned forward and spoke softly into Catherine's ear.

"You have my word, sister. I know something about Grace. Something she doesn't even know yet."

"What?" Catherine asked.

As Lukas whispered into Catherine's ear, a nurse passing in the hallway glanced through the window. Ellie, who was more attentive to the patients than most of the nurses at Havenswood, quickly unlocked the door and entered. She glanced around the room.

"Who was just in here?" Ellie demanded.

Catherine shrugged. Aside from Ellie and her, the room was empty. Ellie looked under the bed and behind the door.

"I know I saw somebody. You better start talking."

"Then you're seeing things. Maybe you need to be a patient here, Ellie." Catherine laughed.

Ellie sneered, and walked out the room, slamming it behind her.

Catherine looked to the mirror above her sink, and saw Lukas' reflection appear. The reflection stared back at Catherine.

"She will suffer beyond her last breath, Catherine. You needn't worry," Lukas said.

"Thank you," Catherine said.

Lukas nodded, and his image in the mirror faded. As it did, Catherine added:

"And Luke- tell Gabby I said hello."

It was past eleven, and Grace's butt was planted in the office chair in front of her glowing laptop screen. Her notes; everything she'd gathered on Lukas Balko; were scattered across the table next to her desk.

Grace would be the first to admit she was messy. Files and important documents were laid out all over the office, in an order that was relevant only to her. She kept three framed photos on her desk. One of herself with Ted and Kayla, one with herself with her sister Nora, and one with herself, Captain Pillar, Detective Pratt and Officer Benny Mitchel, her former partner when she was in Vice. Ever since Benny's death, Grace kept his photo in view as a reminder of the importance of good police work.

Her investigating over the past three months had turned up precisely squat. As far as she could tell, Lukas Balko didn't exist. Somehow he'd disappeared off the face of the earth, a ninety-eight year old man who needed a cane to get around his house, according to Daniel Becket and numerous neighbors.

Grace sighed, and stared up at the ceiling. There had to be something, she thought to herself. Something she just wasn't seeing.

Grace reread the emails from Lukas' business associates, not noticing the man entering through her office door behind her. He quietly made his way towards her.

Grace wondered briefly what time it was in Ukraine, and if their offices might be open so she could call. She started to search for a time zone chart when she felt a pair of arms wrap around her.

"Hi," Ted said. She jumped.

"Ted! You scared the crap out of me!" Grace snapped.

"You're up awfully late. Again." He looked at Grace's screen.

"How come I can't find this guy?" Grace asked. "Rich guys like Balko always leave a money trail. Where's he hiding?"

"Well," Ted mused, "does he have a wife?"

"He did. She passed away thirty years ago."

Ted rubbed Grace's shoulders, and kissed her on the side of her forehead.

"Well, I do know that men are very fond of women," Ted said.

"I don't think Lukas-" Grace stopped as Ted ran his hands down her sides. She was only wearing a tank top and boy shorts, and Ted proceeded to slip his fingers under the elastic waistband.

"Ted, not now," Grace said, pulling her husband's hands off her body.

"Babe, come on! We've had sex, what twice, in the last two months? What's gotten into you?"

"I just-" Grace squeezed her husband's hand. "I'm sorry. I've just been up to my neck in this thing. Look, go back to bed, just give me a few minutes and we'll have some sexy time."

Ted smiled. He kissed Grace on the cheek and made his way back to his bedroom.

Grace bookmarked a few messages in her inbox and shut her laptop down. She shot one last longing glance at her cluttered workstation before pulling herself away.

After checking on her daughter, Grace pulled off her tank top and tossed it into one of the laundry baskets on the floor next to the washer. She quickly unclasped her bra and tossed it in as well with her shorts.

With her clothes put away, Grace quietly crept down the hallway in the nude, and sauntered sexily into the darkened bedroom.

"Who's ready for whoopie?" Grace said, wiggling her hips. She shut the door behind her with her butt.

"This guy here," Ted said. He was already naked and erect, lying in bed waiting.

Grace playfully hopped on top of her horny husband. Ted grabbed Grace's thighs, and pulled them apart so he could slide himself inside her. He eased his way in, cleanly and smoothly, and as soon as he did, Grace's phone rang.

"Aw, damn it," Grace said.

"Ignore it," Ted said, thrusting inside her.

"I-" Grace began, enjoying the feel of Ted's penis inside her, "-can't. It might be important."

Grace climbed off of her husband, prying his hands from their desperate grip on her thighs, and grabbed her phone.

"Harker," Grace said. She sat at the edge of the bed. Ted rested his hand on her thigh, hoping to keep her aroused for when her call was finished.

"Oh my God. I'm on my way." Grace shut her phone and immediately got up and dressed. Ted groaned and sat up in frustration.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Catherine Balko escaped."

Grace had the pedal to the floor, blasting through every red light, until she arrived at Havenswood. Numerous cruisers were already on the scene, but it looked as though Grace was the first detective to arrive.

She flashed her badge and the front guard wasted no time buzzing her in.

"How long has she been missing?" Grace demanded.

"Forty-five minutes," the guard said. "We searched every room and couldn't find her. We think she got out."

Grace looked out the window, and examined the high wire fence surrounding the facility.

"Somehow I doubt that. Let me do a search."

The guard shrugged and let her inside.

Grace hurried up the stairway until she reached Catherine's floor. Tracy, the blonde nurse whom Grace recognized was making her way down the hallway accompanied by two officers.

"Did anyone see her?" Grace shouted.

"No, Ellie last saw her around eight," Tracy said. "Three hours later she checked again and Catherine was gone."

"Let me in her room," Grace said.

Tracy unlocked Catherine's room and Grace went inside. An open pair of handcuffs lay on the floor, and the door showed no signs of forced entry. Grace checked the bars on the window. They remained solid and sturdy.

"Damn it, where the hell did she go?"

Grace hurried down the hallway. She passed by an officer guarding the door to the stairwell and headed up to the next floor.

"Grace!"

It was Joe's voice. Detective Pratt hurried up the stairs.

"How'd I know you'd get here first?" Joe asked sardonically.

"I think she's still in the building," Grace said.

"Did you check the-"

Joe was interrupted by a blood-curdling scream. The detectives hurried up the stairs, with their guns drawn and ready. They found George Buttrey lying on the landing to the next floor- in a puddle of his own blood. Grace gasped when she saw one of his eyes hanging from its socket. His other eye lay on the floor.

"THAT BITCH! THAT BITCH SCRATCHED OUT MY EYES!" George screamed.

Grace's jaw dropped open, and she covered her open mouth with her hand.

"Whe- where did she go?" Grace said, stammering.

"I DIDN'T FUCKING SEE HER, YOU CUNT!" George screamed. He writhed around, soaking his scrubs in blood and clutching his bloody eye sockets with his hands.

Joe took out his phone.

"We need an ambulance! Tell them to get up here to the fifth floor, now!"

"She can't have gone far! Stay here with him," Grace said.

George screamed and wailed, as he writhed around on the blood-soaked floor.

Grace hurried up the stairs. It seemed counter-intuitive for Catherine to go upstairs rather than down, but she did want to avoid the police. Grace spotted a drop of blood on the next landing and knew Catherine was not far off.

Grace arrived at the top floor, and stopped. Following a hunch, Grace went through a door marked "roof access." She was hit by a gust of cool winter air as she stepped outside. The door slammed behind her, leaving her in near darkness apart from the moonlight.

She spotted something lying nearby. It looked to be a gold chain, lying across from the doorway. Grace ignored it and continued searching the rooftop, sensing what she was searching for was nearby.

Grace almost didn't recognize her. Her hair, which had been mostly black just a few months before, was ghost white. Her powerful stature had diminished into an exhausted slump. She stood at the ledge, staring at the flashing sirens below.

"Stop right there, Catherine!" Grace shouted. She trained her Glock on the withered old woman; ready to fire the second Catherine gave her an excuse.

Catherine slowly turned to face the detective. Grace gasped when saw the toll her time in Havenswood had taken. Varicose veins snaked up her legs, which were barely covered by the flimsy gown the facility provided her. Her hands were little more than skin and bones. Wrinkles lined her face, disclosing her advanced age for the first time in decades.

"She wasn't a virgin," Catherine said, shaking her head. "It has to be virgin blood. Or it won't work. That damn whore lied to me!"

"Move away from the ledge, Catherine!" Grace commanded.

"Or what?" Catherine asked.

Grace paused, realizing Catherine had the upper hand, however insignificant it was. Catherine simply breathed in the cool air.

"He's going to find you, you know," Catherine said. "Lukas likes his privacy. If you keep coming after him, he's going to come after you."

"Unless I find him first," Grace said firmly.

Catherine gave just a hint of a chuckle.

"You might. But it will cost you everything," Catherine said, knowingly. "Your career. Your marriage. Your home. Even your daughters."

Grace arched her eyebrow.

"My daughters?" Grace asked, curiously.

"Yes. Kayla, and the one inside of you right now."

Grace backed away a step.

"I'm not pregnant," Grace said.

"You're not far along," Catherine said. "But you are. And if you care about your childrens' lives, you'll leave Luke alone."

"Not a chance," Grace said. Catherine smirked, almost as if she'd been hoping Grace would ignore her warning.

"DON'T MOVE!" Joe shouted. He hurried across the rooftop and stopped next to Grace, training his gun on Catherine. His arrival didn't alarm Catherine in the slightest.

"Well detectives, I think it's time I said farewell," Catherine said mournfully, turning to face the ledge. She raised her arms like wings; with George's blood still dripping from her fingernails. "I do hope you'll consider my warning, Harker?"

"DO NOT JUMP!" Grace screamed. "DO NOT JU-"

Catherine closed her eyes, and let her body gently fall forward. Grace and Joe rushed to the ledge. Catherine was already on the pavement by the time they saw her. She lay lifelessly on the walkway as a pool of blood grew around her.

"Damn it! You okay?" Joe asked.

"Yeah," Grace said, holstering her weapon. Joe hurried downstairs, and Grace followed.

She reached the roof access door, and stopped. Lying in front of the door was the gold chain she'd noticed before. Curious, she picked it up. She could see a brass key attached to the chain, with the emblem of a skull on the handle. Grace stuffed the key in her pocket to log into evidence.

Catherine was pronounced dead at the scene at 12:12am. Grace sighed and slumped to the ground as she watched the paramedics drape a cloth over Catherine's body.

Joe leaned against the wall next to where Grace sat. He popped a cigarette in his mouth and lit the end.

"Hell of a way to close a case, huh?" Joe asked. The paramedics slammed the ambulance doors shut.

"I could think of worse ways," Grace said.

Grace arrived home hours later. She crept into the house quietly to avoid waking her family. She could hear Ted snoring peacefully in the master bedroom, so she let herself into the bathroom and softly shut the door.

As Grace emptied her pockets onto the bathroom counter, she realized she still had the brass key she picked up from the hospital rooftop. She'd completely forgotten to log that into evidence.

Cursing quietly, she vowed to turn it in the following day and pray the captain would be understanding.

Her encounter with Catherine had rattled her. Not just because she'd killed herself, but what she'd said to her before. Grace should have known better than to let Catherine get inside her head, but she made a stop at a 24-hour drug store to be certain.

Grace removed the pregnancy test from her shopping bag, which she'd hidden inside her jacket in case Ted was awake. She knew it was crazy. She knew there was no way, even if she was pregnant, that Catherine could accurately know that. But she also knew she'd been feeling ill lately, had cramps, a slight weight gain, and her period was overdue. All of those things could have been because of stress or lack of sleep, but there was no harm in testing.

Grace dropped her pants and sat on the toilet, and urinated onto the strip. She could feel her heart pounding; somehow she found herself dreading the result. When she finished, she tapped the strip onto the toilet seat, and waited patiently for the result. While she waited, she looked at the brass key that lay on the counter top. The red eyes stared back at her knowingly. The key looked old, expertly crafted, possibly a valuable antique- and it gave her the willies. Grace stuffed it into the top drawer and shut it tightly.

When five minutes had passed, Grace examined the strip. Negative. Grace let out a nervous chuckle and tossed the strip into the trash. She crumpled the box and decided to tell no one about this. She couldn't afford to appear unstable again. Not while she was on a case this important.

Content with the pregnancy test's answer, Grace stripped out of her clothes and turned on the shower. The ceiling lights flickered momentarily. Grace grabbed her silver wedding band and pulled it from her finger, and found it would not budge. She considered perhaps if her weight gain was to continue she would need to get it re-sized.

Deciding to leave the band on, Grace stepped into the shower and basked in the warm spray. The water washed across her body and soothed her nerves.

The lights flickered once again, and suddenly the room went dark.