He walked out the gates into the parking lot and continued walking. A hundred yards or so away was the highway, a two-lane rural road with shallow grassy ditches. He crossed the road and lay down in the grass and was soon asleep.

---

Cheryl Allison was preparing for a quiet evening with Scott, the man she had married seven years ago. Her job at the bank ended its days at four o'clock at the latest on most days and Scott generally worked until after five. She put a Red Baron pizza into the big countertop oven but didn't turn in on - when Scott arrived she would turn it up to 350 and pour a glass of wine and Scott would open a beer. Another pleasant evening was ahead. Then her phone rang.

She didn't recognize the number and plugged it into Google. Nothing recognizable in the resuts but something... it was a local number. She used one of Scott's burner phones to call back.

"Hello."

"You called," Cheryl said.

"Sorry, didn't recognize the number, this is Alysin."

"What's up?"

"Warren Clark. Have you heard from him lately?" Alysin asked.

"Not in a long time. He took us off the visitor list... not long after he went in. Scott and I wrote some letters but he didn't reply... like he just... wait, his release date should be coming up soon. I was keeping an eye on it but...."

"It looks like he was released a couple of days ago. Apparently he walked out of the gate and a few hours later a sheriff's deputy saw him lying in ditch across the road," said Alysin.

"Oh no, I should have.... how is he?"

"Apparently," Alysin said, "he's not physically harmed, it seems he just... anyway they have him at the hospital in the Northport General Hospital. Mental health section."

"I should have, someone should have," Cheryl said, "been there for him. Even if he didn't want it, he's going to need help. Even if he doesn't want it."

"The kind of help he'll get from the shrinks will be worse than no help," said Alysin.

"Right. I'm going up there."

"I thought you would, keep in touch."

"Will do, thanks."

So much for a quiet dinner and drinks, Cheryl thought. Scott will be here in a few minutes. She changed from the pajamas she had just put on into jeans and a sweatshirt. Scott walked in as she came out of the bedroom.

"What's up?" he asked.

"Dinner will be late," Cheryl replied. "Warren has just been released and is in a bad way."

"I'd forgotten," said Scott. "Where is he?"

"Hospital, Northport General. Mental."

"OK, let's go."

Scott's daily driver, a restored 1977 Chevy Scottsdale named Scotty, was still in the drive. They got in and were on their way.

"Fuel?" Cheryl asked.

"Topped off after work," Scott replied. "Hold on."

He didn't actually drive fast, always scrupulously observing all traffic laws since being inconspicuous was more important than anything in their lives. It was dark when they arrived at Northpoint General and went in to look for the mental health section.

"Warren Clark," Cheryl said to the woman at the desk. "We're family members."

That wasn't true but it wasn't something that couldn't be disproven in a short time. The receptionist picked up the phone.

Shortly a man that was presumably a doctor arrived - everyone else was in scrubs. The nametag confirmed it and indicated he was one Dr. Garner.

"You're Mr. Clark's relatives?" he inquired. Scott nodded in Cheryl's direction.

"My cousin," she said. "More like a brother when we we were growing up."

"This way," Dr. Garner said and they followed him to an office. He sat down and they took the two visitor seats.

"When did you last see your cousin?" Dr. Garner asked.

"It was... probably six years ago," Cheryl replied. "He began refusing visitors soon after he was.... went in. I wrote for a while but he never replied to my letters. As far as I know he did that to everyone. I intended to be there when he was released but... somehow I didn't keep track of the release date."

Dr. Garner looked at his computer monitors, moved the mouse and clicked a couple of times.

"Apparently he did that to everyone," Dr. Garner said, "as far as anyone knows. He was found in the ditch across the highway from the prison gate, apparently sleeping. A sheriff's deputy picked him up and he was sent here for mental evaluation."

"How is he?" Cheryl asked.

"He hasn't spoken since he was brought in," Dr. Garner replied. "And he didn't talk at the station either. I've requested his prison records but I don't have them yet."

"Can we see him?"

"I'll check," Dr. Garner said. "but it's up to him." He got up.

"Wait," Cheryl said. "Show him this..." She removed a necklace and handed it to him. He took it and looked at it.

"I'm pretty sure he'll remember it," Cheryl said.

"Wait here, please." Dr. Garner took the necklace and left.

"Think that'll do it?" Scott asked.

"I believe so," Cheryl replied. "I hope so."

Dr. Garner was back so soon they were worried - had he refused again? Dr. Garner handed the necklace to Cheryl. "We've been giving him a mild sedative in his food and he's a little sluggish - it's been about nine hours since the last dose so he should be relative lucid. He did actually speak when I asked, or rather nodded."

"Padded cell?" Cheryl asked as the door was opened. "It's not like he's...."

"Standard procedure," Dr. Garner replied. "I'll leave you alone but the cell is being monitored. Any sign of trouble the staff will be in there... it's for your protection and his."

"Got it," Cheryl said.