He took it over to his bed and laid it out, searching for a paper in the file.
He glanced up again when it sounded like Brad was pounding on something in the attic, his voice cracking with anger as he screamed wordlessly.
Ellis looked heartbroken but determined.
From behind her, a hand yanked her. She turned to find Julie standing there. “Come on!” Julie said, urgency on her face.
Julie dragged her through the wall and across the hall to Brad’s room to his closet. The door flew open and papers spilled out.
Julie grabbed her hands and stared into her eyes. “Believe!”
Then they were on the move again, Julie dragging her out of the room, up the stairs, then through the attic door.
Brad lay on the floor, his body smudged with dark spots that looked like charcoal, as well as splashes of paint. He rolled around on the floor, naked from the waist up, ranting and wailing.
Julie dragged her over to the couch and pointed. “Believe!”
The couch slid away and the little door behind it flew open. Papers blew out, white sketch paper at first, then newspaper, which all turned dark and spotted with mildew until Mandaline had to put her hands up to protect her face as a sea of nasty, decomposing papers blasted out at her.
She sat up in bed, heart pounding as a loud crack of thunder split the night. Her pulse raced as she remembered the dream.
And knew what she had to do.
Ellis locked his bedroom door before he unloaded his .38 and locked it in the gun safe in his closet. For the past couple of hours Brad had raged in the attic, crying, screaming, ranting ever since Mandaline left.
He didn’t even dare disturb him to give him his meds. He didn’t want to have to Baker Act him, but if Brad didn’t settle down by morning, he would.
He also knew he couldn’t get any sleep tonight. He needed to stay awake and alert to whatever Brad did.
He retrieved Brad’s file from the top drawer of his file cabinet and rifled through the paperwork until he found the standing durable power of attorney order he wanted, the one that gave him control over Brad’s health care needs.
The one that would allow him to have him involuntarily committed, if need be, without a judge’s order.
He left it on the top of the pile and closed the folder. If he needed to call the sheriff’s office before morning, he wanted that ready so he could have them take Brad immediately, without having to wait for a court order or having to hunt for it.
He changed into a pair of shorts and propped himself up in bed with pillows and his laptop to try to get some work done.
And still, above him, Brad raged.
He never wanted it to come to this. He didn’t want to forcibly admit Brad to the hospital, but it was obvious that whatever was wrong with him was progressing at an alarming rate. He couldn’t wait any longer. He had to get him help first thing in the morning. Hopefully after Brad had worn himself out.
At first he didn’t hear the pounding on the kitchen door over the noise from the attic and the rain. Until he heard a horn blasting outside, followed by more pounding.
He quickly ran downstairs to find Mandaline standing at their door, holding her car keys, barefoot and wearing nothing but a T-shirt, which was soaking wet and sticking to her body from standing in the rain and knocking.
She pushed her way in. “Where’s Brad?”
“He’s upstairs.” He caught her arm. “I don’t want you up there. I don’t know what he’s capable of at this point.”
She wrenched her arm free. “I need a flashlight and a crowbar or a hammer or something.” She raced into the living room, Ellis on her heels.
“What?”
“Goddammit, quit arguing with me. You’re wasting time. I think I know what’s wrong!” She ran through the living room and around the other side of the wall to the space where the downstairs powder room was going to go. She climbed through the framing, peering up into the darkness. Then she gave a triumphant cry.
Returning, she snatched up a large framing hammer from a pile of tools in the corner of the living room and started up the stairs. “I need a flashlight. Hurry! Go get me one.”
He ran back into the kitchen and grabbed one from a box of supplies and followed her upstairs. He found her in Brad’s closet, swinging the hammer at the back wall.
“What the hell are you doing?”
She snatched the long, heavy Maglite from him and pointed it at the wall as she frantically pounded at it with her other hand. She didn’t bother answering his question.
“This won’t work!” she finally yelled, frustration in her voice. “It’s not heavy enough. I need a damn crowbar, or a sledgehammer, or something like that.”
Now wondering if he was the crazy one and maybe Mandaline and Brad were sane, he ran downstairs, the sound of Mandaline pounding away at the rear wall of the closet starting again. He finally located a short pry bar and ran back upstairs with it. She’d made a small hole in the wall, but not much progress.
“Move,” he said. He shouldered her out of the way and wedged the pry bar into the hole she’d made and started trying to enlarge it while she held the Maglite trained on it. “Mind telling me what’s going on and why we’re destroying my house?”
“Just rip it open. Please!”
The desperation in her voice squelched any further questions. “Stand back.” He used both hands to stab the pry bar around the edges of the hole to loosen the lathing behind the drywall. When he had a hole large enough for her to stick her head into, she pulled him out of the way and did just that, cramming her arm and the flashlight in first.
Her scream sounded positively ecstatic. She snatched the pry bar from him and ran out of the closet. It was only when he heard her on the stairs that he realized she was going into the attic.
“Mandaline, no!”
But she was already upstairs and in the attic by the time he reached the base of the attic stairs. He pounded up after her, praying Brad wasn’t as dangerous as he sounded.
When he got there Brad was still lying in the middle of the floor, but staring at where Mandaline was trying to pull the couch away from the wall.
“What are you doing?” Ellis yelled.
“Help me!”
He helped her move the couch away from the wall. Then like a shot she had the door to the little storage space open and writhed through until she had her body half inside it. The sound of pounding and prying filtered out of the space for several minutes. There wasn’t enough room he could get down there and look to see what she was doing.
Brad slowly sat up and watched but didn’t move.
At least he’s stopped screaming.
Ellis wasn’t sure at first if her yell was triumphant or not when she emerged from the small space. She had a wild look on her face and black filth spattered on her cheek and arms. She threw a handful of gunk on the floor, where it landed with a wet splat.
“It’s newspaper and stuff, what someone used for insulation in the walls years ago. It was jammed in the walls and in the space around where the vent stack goes into the roof. It’s black mold.” Now she was crying. “There’s a leak in the plumbing vent stack where it goes through the roof. It’s all wet in there. The water’s been seeping in around the vent stack and all that stuff is moldy. It runs down behind his closet. How long ago did they redo the roof?”
He struggled to think. “Um, over a year ago, at least.”
“And the plumbing?”
“Not long after that. But I don’t know if that was the original or a new vent stack.”
“So it’s been leaking for over a year. That crap’s been growing moldy for over a year.” She shook her head as she pushed past him and went to Brad. “Come on,” she said.