Hillary_Tail of the Dog (12 page)

“I guess Patrick’s home,” Jake said, and Monica relaxed. Of course that was all it was...not that she was happy to have to face him. The thought made her cringe nearly as much as the thought of Hillary trying to escape unnerved her.

“Should we go up and greet him?” Jake asked.

“I’d like to greet him with a frying pan,” Monica said, holding back what she had truly preferred to do. “You go, I’m not in the mood to confront him yet.”

“Okay, but you know it’s not healthy to keep that anger bottled up....”

“Yes, doctor, I know that and I don’t intend to,” she smiled and switched on the television. Jake walked upstairs and peeked in on Hillary. She was in bed, staring blankly at the wall across the room.

What an absolutely miserable existence
, he thought and walked on before Hillary noticed him. She caught a whiff of his cologne and turned her head to face the door, but he was gone by then.

“Hello, Patrick,” Jake said as he entered Dr. Morrison’s office. Patrick was seated in front of a large mahogany desk in front of a mahogany bookshelf jammed full of medical books. Jake helped himself to the seat across from where Patrick was sitting.

“How’d it go today?” he asked, without any greeting. Jake could feel the tension emanating from him like a cancerous radiation. He hoped he could get to the point and get out of there with as little aggravation as possible.

“Depends...Hillary opened up about the nightmare she didn’t tell you about. Apparently she dreamt that she was torturing and eating people.”

Patrick shook his head. He seemed upset by the news.

“But she said she slept better.”

“I know, and so did I, thank God. I was starting to feel like a new parent, always waking up in the middle of the night.”

“You know, I think it’s time for Hillary to be untied,” Jake said, rightfully anticipating an argument.

“What?” Jake exclaimed angrily. “You’ve got to be joking. She’s nowhere near ready.”

“You can’t leave her tied to a bed like that, fed intravenously and hooked to a catheter. I’m surprised she doesn’t have an infection.”

“I’m on top of things, and we don’t have much of a choice anyway. You know the minute we untie her, she’ll just try to run. You know her track record, or have you forgotten?”

“I think she’s desperate enough to stay put now. Besides, she’s had her short-term memory for a while now, it’s not like the times when she woke up completely unaware of what was happening.”

“She still has no idea what’s going on. You think she trusts us?”

“Some of us more than others.”

“And just what exactly are you saying, Jake?” Patrick asked defensively.

“Hillary is more comfortable around Monica and I...She seems to be afraid of you.”

“Yeah, I get it, just like Monica, she has you convinced that I raped her.”

“What I believe is irrelevant. She has to be untied. Mentally, she’ll deteriorate living like that—anyone would. I’m surprised I haven’t seen signs of depression and withdrawal, but it’s only a matter of time if you keep her like that.”

“No,” Patrick said bluntly, “it’s too soon. I’m not taking any chances.”

“She’s changed, Jake, only you’re too bitter to see it. I think your objectivity has been too compromised by what she did to you.”

“Try to remember that I’m in charge here...I brought you in on the project. I saved that girl and no one gives a rat’s ass what happens to her.”

“You yourself have said that she’s shown significant improvement. Why won’t you give her a chance?”

“I have a lot at stake here, Jake, you get to leave, go home, I’m stuck here. She’s my responsibility. She gets untied if and when I say so.”

“Why is she naked?” Jake asked accusingly, glaring at Patrick.

“Again, you’ve seem to have forgotten how she blinded me and nearly strangled Monica with her hospital gown. I’m taking zero chances with her, Jake,
zero chances
,” he mouthed the last part slowly for emphasis.

“You can’t compare how she is now with how she was then. She’s made great strides, you can’t deny it. She cries now, whimpers like a puppy, instead of acting out violently. When those things happened here, she was in a heightened stage of anxiety and fear since she had no memory of anything—anything at all. You need to empathize, Patrick—
anyone
would have reacted similarly.”

“Wow, she really got to you, huh? A grown man—a noted psychiatrist—fooled by a young psychopath. What is it? Why are you so adamant to have her untied? Are you that attracted to her that your professional objectivity has been tainted?”

“How dare you question my integrity? You’re the one she’s accused of raping her!” Jake shouted, growing hot in the face with anger. He was usually very level-tempered. It took quite a lot to get a rise out of him and here, in a manner of minutes, Patrick had gotten him to the point of no return.

“You have no trouble doubting mine, do you?”

“This isn’t even about that anyway, you’re the one changing the issue. I don’t like being at odds with you, but Hillary needs to be treated better, and she needs to be untied. If you don’t, I’ll be forced to go above you.”

“Good luck with that,” Patrick said haughtily, “she’s expendable, Jake, try to remember that. If you try to pull the plug on this project, you might as well go in there and hold the pillow down on her head because you know damn well that’s pretty much what will end up happening to her.”

“Then I’ll contact the medical board and let them know that you’ve been conducting unlawful and unethical human research.”

Patrick let out a facetious burst of laughter.

“Then in addition to murder, you’ll be committing suicide,” he said, equally amused by Jake’s concerns as he was annoyed by them.

“I guess you seem to think that you can do whatever the hell you want to that girl and no one will stop you,” Jake said angrily.

“I’m not mistreating her, Jake, she’s tied up because it’s necessary, not because she’s my sex slave. Try to stay focused—don’t let her deceive you. I have no interest in that girl other than professionally—I swear it.”

“Even if that’s so—and I’d be willing to believe it is—it still does not excuse the way she’s living. I’m talking about the quality of life here, Patrick. If she’s kept like that much longer, you might as well just kill her, and all the work you’ve done with the Neuronentin will be for nothing.”

“I can’t watch her twenty-four seven, Jake, what do you really expect me to do? Give her free range of the house? What you propose just isn’t feasible. This house isn’t set up to be a prison.”

“Perhaps you should have thought about that before you embarked on this research project of yours.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. It’s been started, there’s been progress and I’m not about to blow it.”

“But you are, can’t you understand? Under these circumstances, she’s bound to regress.”

“Jake, you have to believe that I’m not trying to torture Hillary...I’m not being cruel and I’m certainly not abusing her in any way. I want nothing more than for her to be cooperative enough to eat on her own, go to the bathroom on her own and roam around the room on her own accord. She’s just not at that stage yet, not even close.”

“And what if you never think she’s reached that stage?”

“I just don’t trust her...I don’t trust her at all. And that last nightmare she had just makes me even more uneasy about taking such a big step.”

Jake sighed. Patrick was adamant about keeping Hillary bound to the bed, fed intravenously and connected to the urinary catheter. He was in no position to convince him otherwise. Worse, there was nothing he could do about it and Patrick knew it. He would make a point of visiting Hillary more often—daily, if need be, to ensure that she had enough mental stimulation and hope to keep from becoming anxious or depressed. He hoped that he could rely on Monica to help keep her calm and rational...and safe. He hoped, for Hillary’s sake, that her allegation of rape was merely fabricated. He smiled thinly as Patrick stared at him.

“I think I have an idea,” he said excitedly.

“Do tell,” Patrick said, as he folded his arms and waited to hear Jake’s brilliant idea.

“I can hypnotize her...find out whether she remembers anything, find out about...confirm that she’s lying about the rape.”

Patrick was shaking his head.

“You know I don’t believe hypnotism is a reliable method.”

“Well I completely disagree, and with all due respect, I’m the expert in the field,” Jake said, smiling smugly.

“First of all, I’m the head of this operation, which you seem to keep forgetting. Secondly, I don’t know what your hypnotic escapades would yield—she might fake it—more deceit and manipulation for you to swallow and thirdly, I don’t think you’re impartial anymore. You want Hillary released, how would I know you’re not botching the findings to achieve that end?”

The smile left Jake’s face.

“I’ve had just about enough of you undermining my profession and my professionalism. I don’t
‘botch my findings’
as you say, and if you’re so concerned about that, you can always be present. In fact, I would prefer it.”

Patrick tried to think of a reasonable excuse to deny Jake’s proposition, but aside from him skepticism about hypnosis in general it was not a bad idea.

“...unless, of course, you’re concerned that hypnosis would confirm Hillary’s accusation rather than dispel it....”

Jake’s comment struck a nerve in Patrick.

“For the last time, I did
NOT
touch Hillary inappropriately,” he said angrily, then exhaled heavily in an over-exaggerated way.

“Fine,” he said reluctantly, “hypnotize her, but two weeks from now. Then, and not before then, we’ll talk about untying her.”

Jake flashed his straight, white teeth in a winning smile.

“Agreed,” he said, and extended his hand out for Patrick to shake.

Patrick unfolded his arms and grasped Jake’s hand firmly, shaking it a little too roughly as if to drive home his disapproval.

You’ve got issues
, Jake thought, as he looked Patrick straight in the eyes and continued smiling.

~9~

Hillary remained bound to the bed for three weeks longer, as it turned out, due to an infection she had developed—ironically enough—because of the urinary catheter. Needless to say, her hypnosis had to be postponed.

When Dr. Bentley had first mentioned the idea to her, she seemed fascinated by the prospect of it. As the days grew closer, however, she became increasingly anxious, fearing what might be discovered about her.

“I changed my mind,” she had told Dr. Bentley.

“What do you mean? You can’t change your mind,” he responded.

“I don’t want to be hypnotized,” she informed him.

“There’s nothing to worry about, Hillary, you won’t feel a thing and you probably won’t remember much, if anything, about it anyway,” he assured.

“So what good will it do me then?” she yelled bitterly, “I don’t remember anything now, I won’t remember anything then, what’s the point?”

“I meant you won’t remember the session itself. It’s very likely that it could trigger the return of your memory, and you’ll be able to convey some information to us that’s locked away in your subconscious mind.”

Hillary shook her head stubbornly.

“I don’t want to do it,” she insisted.

“I don’t see why you wouldn’t want to do it,” Dr. Bentley replied, growing agitated by her refusal. “It’s for your own good, you know. Don’t you want to prove that Dr. Morrison touched you inappropriately? Don’t you want to be untied?”

“I’m the patient, isn’t it my choice?” she asked angrily, ignoring his questions.

“That’s usually how it works, but I’m afraid it’s not your choice, Hillary. You’re a minor and we have to do what’s best for you.”

Hillary was outraged. It was bad enough that she had been subjected to weeks—months, as she had learned—of being captive, for unknown reasons, tied to a bed, rotting away, bored to death, fed by a machine, peeing into a bag, and suffering from a painful catheter-associated urinary tract infection. Now she was being forced to undergo hypnosis. She had become rather fond of Dr. Bentley, and even Monica to a lesser extent. Not anymore. Now she hated them both nearly as much as she hated Dr. Morrison. She wished they would all drop dead.

“I won’t let you do it,” she shouted, “and you can’t make me!”

She sounded so much like a bratty child. If she were not tied up, Dr. Bentley had no doubt in his mind that she’d have her arms crossed in front of her, pouting. He tried to reason with her, to no avail. In the end, she just started shouting profanities and he left.

He had stayed away for days while she was recovering from her infection. When she was well again, he had visited her briefly, hoping to find that she was willing to cooperate. Unfortunately, her demeanor had not improved. It was a devastating setback for him, as he felt so much progress had been made, and now lost. She was angry again, distrustful and shut him out completely. He had—very briefly—considered canceling the hypnosis until she was ready and willing to cooperate.

Yet, he knew it was necessary to go forward, for Hillary’s benefit. He had grown fond of her and genuinely wanted to help her. He hated to see her bound to the bed, her mind deteriorating from lack of any meaningful stimulation. He didn’t know how she had managed to cope for so long; if he had been treated similarly, he would have gone mad within a month. Dr. Bentley knew that Hillary was at a critical stage now…she was showing signs of mental wear and tear. He hoped it wasn’t too late.

Now, a day before the scheduled hypnosis, Dr. Bentley visited Hillary, hoping to change her mind about going forward. She was lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling when Dr. Bentley entered the room. She knew it was him by the smell of his cologne. She didn’t bother to turn her head or greet him.