Authors: Priscilla Poole Rainwater
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Granger smiled as he watched Regan round third base. “GO! GO! GO!” he cheered as his son ran home and slid in, exactly the way he had taught him. He looked on proudly as the boy jumped up, then dusted himself off.
I wish Cassandra had stuck around to see our son grow, if she only knew what a joy she missed out on…
he thought, feeling the old, familiar pang.
Looking up in the stands, Regan waved at him with a big goofy grin.
Waving back, he heard his cell phone ring. Getting up from the stands, he stepped down and away from everyone within earshot, and answered the call.
“Mr. Mortenson,
Radon
Bishop here.”
“Yes?” he answered impatiently. Pressing the phone to his ear, he stuck a finger in the other the other one to drown out the noise of the children playing, and their parents screaming and cheering them on.
“I got a tip that your wife was badly injured, and was taken to a children’s home, ran by nuns, to recover. I believe they may know where she is now, but they aren’t talking.”
Thunderstruck, he felt his knees nearly buckle. Could it be true that she could have been hurt somehow, and complete strangers cared for her?
No.. I would have known if she had been hurt, after all, they couldn’t have treated her without notifying me. ..
He
cautioned himself.
“Where is she now?” he demanded in a voice that held no sympathy, in spite of what he just been told.
Astonished by the man’s reaction, Raidon couldn’t help but wonder for a moment if the strange behavior was because Granger himself was the one who had attacked her. He had expected the man to be pleased with the news. “Well, as I said sir, I don’t know where she is, but I feel that if I keep a close eye on the
children’s
home, it
will lead us to her eventually.” H
e replied slowly, as he brought a pair of binoculars up to his eyes with his free hand and looked, watching children lining up to go in for dinner. He had found a good spot in the woods, where he could watch unseen. Looking around slowly, he spotted the grounds keeper, and watched as the old man snuck around the corner of one of the buildings. At the moment, the man was glancing around nervously, as if afraid of being seen. Reaching down into a large purple Butterfly bush, he pulled out a mason jar, opened
it, and took a quick but healthy swing of the contents. Closing the jar quickly, he hid it back in the bush, withdrew a packet of Tic-Tacs from his overall pocket, and popped a few into his mouth. Grabbing his garden shears, he went back to work.
Maybe I should go to the liquor store, then pay the old guy a visit….
he thought.
Determined to end the hunt for his wife quickly, Granger barked, “Alright, you do that. And the minute you see her, you call me with her exact, precise location, understand? Mr. Bishop, I’ve already told you I‘ll make it worth your while if you find her quickly. I’ll triple your usual fees. I want
results
and fast.” he reiterated, then hung up.
“Dad, dad, did you see that? We creamed them!” Regan called as he ran towards him with an infectious smile spread across his face, and gave him a high-five.
The pride he felt for his son washing away the anger he had been feeling only moments before, he patted him on the back, mussed his hair up, and smiled back down at him. “You know I saw it, tiger! C’mon, let’s go celebrate! How about a pizza?”
A Pizza Hut junkie, the boy cried out, “Allll RIGHT
!”
Hugging him, he muttered, “I love you champ.” then cleared his throat, trying to keep his son from seeing him getting so choked up.
Smiling back up at him, he replied, “Love you too, dad.”
********************************************************
BANG!……BANG!…..BANG!
Rolling over in her bed and groaning, Karen rubbed her eyes, then frowned.
Probably some church group, or some kid selling something for school…
she thought hazily as she slowly began drifting off to blissful sleep once again.
BANG!……BANG!….BANG!
Startled, she sat up irritably, tossed her covers back and winced, wondering why her stomach was so sore, indeed, her entire body. Feeling a little unsteady, she carefully and slowly got up out of bed, trying to ignore the pain.
Great, I must be starting my period early…
she thought.
BANG!….BANG!…..BANG!
“Alright, I’M COMING!" she half shouted in a grouchy voice.
Stumbling to the apartment door, she opened it to see her best friend, Cynne’ Barns, standing there wearing a very put-out, grouchy expression of her own.
“Girl, I been banging on your door for ten minutes, I was about five seconds away from calling the cops.” she said. Looking at Karen’s rumpled silk gown, hair in complete disarray, and pillow imprints on her face, she knew her girl had just got out of bed. “You forgot didn’t you?” she whined as she stepped inside the apartment, closed the door behind her, then locked it.
Unable to think clearly, she rubbed her eyes, yawned, and stretched. “What time is it, and what are you babbling about?” she groaned as she made her way to the couch. Flopping down on it, she curled up and let out a contented sigh. Her eyes grew heavy almost instantly.
Slapping her leg to wake her, Cynne said, “Girl, today is the day of the street fair, and the booths are already up! You should remember, after all, you helped organize the thing for the children’s home! What’s wrong with you? Come on girl, there are some good deals, and I got money to spend.
Its
nine
o’clock
and you wanted to be at the booths before noon. And why are you still in your gown anyway? Are you sick?” she asked, suddenly concerned when she noticed a sheen of perspiration on her friend’s face.
Sitting back up groggily, Karen frowned in confusion, knowing she never slept past six in the morning. Disoriented, she looked down at what she was wearing, her favorite pink silk nightgown.
When did I undress and put on my gown
?
She
wondered, unable to remember. All she could remember was having a drink with Brett, then…nothing.
“Are you listing to me?” her friend asked, growing impatient, and looking at her like she was one of her uncooperative students at school.
Closing her eyes, she opened them again slowly, trying to clear her head. “I’m sorry Cynne, but something strange happened to me last night. One minute I was having a drink with Brett, we had went to dinner because he was going out of town today, and the next thing I know, I’m waking up to you banging on my door.”
Leaning close, she looked closely at her pupils to see if she was high, she knew the signs very well. When she was younger she had ran with a tough and vicious crowd, most of who either had serious addictions, or were dealers, or were extremely violent. Or all of the above. “What have you been taking?” she asked, growing more alarmed by the second. “Maybe we should get you to the emergency room.” Reaching out, she grabbed her wrist and checked her pulse. It was racing as if she had just ran a mile.
“I’m not high, if that’s what you’re insinuating, you know me better than that! Just let me get a shower and eat something, then we’ll go.” she said irritably, then pulled her wrist free.
“Karen, I’m telling you, something isn’t right with that Doctor Parker, he probably slipped something in your drink.” she said. It was something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but from the very moment she had met the doctor, she knew he wasn’t to be trusted. She also knew from watching his behavior that he wanted to be more than just Karen’s
physician. He also tried to manipulate her friend’s time, as well.
“Please, don’t start about Brett.” she snapped, holding one hand up in the air. “Just let me shower. We‘ll go grab some coffee and breakfast, my treat. Besides, I’ve had blackouts before, you know that. Brett says it’s a common after-effect from serious head injuries.” she finished in a dismissive tone, then got up and headed towards the bathroom.
Not buying a word of it, Cynne sat in silence, twirling one of her thin braids absently with one finger. “I’ll just bet he has nothing to do with those blackouts, the grinning and oh-so-eager-to-please creep.” she muttered as her eyes narrowed to slits.
*****************************************************
Sipping from her glass of wine, Martina sat waiting, watching the door for her dinner companion for the night to arrive. Still fuming inwardly, she silently scolded herself for allowing the fool to talk her into letting that bitch live. The plan could now blow up in her face any second, and she felt momentary panic at the mere thought of it.
What will I do if my Granger actually finds her?
She
thought, then nearly screamed when a strong pair of hands grabbed her shoulders from behind.
“Hello Martina.” a familiar voice said with considerable amusement.
By the barest margin she managed to not curse aloud, and put her glass on the table with a hand that trembled slightly. Turning around, she saw her cousin standing there with a smirk on his handsome face. The same age, they had both been close as they grew up, and as children, he had always gotten a kick out of sneaking up on her from behind and scaring her. Aware that she had nearly caused a scene, she glanced around at several of the tables nearby and noticed quite a few women were glancing furtively at him, with eyes that burned with deep-rooted lust. She wasn’t surprised, because in truth he
was
an unusually handsome man, and came off as very polished and charming. She also knew it was all a façade, that something much more sinister was always lurking right beneath the surface. He was as smooth as peaches and cream on the outside though, and if she was honest with herself, she knew that she would have been just as easily taken in by his charm as many other women had before, were she not his cousin and knew him so well.
“Come now, you know you can’t stay mad at me…“ Brett cooed, his smile stretching nearly from ear to ear.
Feeling her anger melting away like snow under a July sun, once again she marveled,
Oh yeah, he’s good all right…
“Sorry to have kept the lovely lady waiting.
Come here, you, give us a hug." he said smoothly, then beckoned to her with one finger.
Standing, she wrapped her arms around him, loving the smell of his expensive, subtle cologne, and felt him kiss her cheek warmly. “Brett, stop fooling about, we have a big problem.” she said as she pushed him away playfully and they both sat down. Looking around once more, peevishly, she was secretly pleased to see that the same women who had been watching him earlier were now shooting glances of envy and hostility her way.
Motioning for the waiter impatiently, Brett asked for a glass of wine for himself, and a refill for Martina.
Looking around nervously, as if she expected the police to barge in any second, she hissed, “He’s looking for her, you know who! I should have gotten rid of her while I had the chance. Now
we
have to get rid of her, right now, or all my plans will have been for naught. That bitch has been a thorn in my side for years, I wish she would have died.” she finished with maniacal hatred gleaming in her eyes.
Looking at her with a neutral expression, he was silent for the moment. Three years earlier he had entered into the plan to help her get rid of Cassandra, because at the time he thought it would be fun to use his skills to help her get the man she so desperately wanted, and he had always enjoyed participating in her little schemes.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Well, if you would have allowed the original plan to progress, you would be that…” he stopped short as he struggled with his own hatred and unreasonable jealously of Granger Mortenson. The man had everything he had always coveted. Vast fortune, power, and most of all, he had possessed Cassandra, a woman he felt should have been his. The original plan had been to deteriorate Cassandra’s mental state to the point where she would have been committed, and of course, he had planned to have her under his care, since he had became her doctor months before the attack. It was quite simple how he had gotten close to her to begin with. Martina had casually mentioned his name to Grace Mortenson, after the older woman had told her about the strange behavior her daughter-in-law had been exhibiting. Grace then told Granger that he should have Brett treat her, and from that moment, she became molding clay in his hands.
As a matter of fact, the plan had been almost
too
easy. What Grace Motenson
didn’t
know, was the fact Martina had paid a maid five thousand dollars to switch Cassandra’s herbal supplement for a drug compound he had developed that would cause psychotic behavior. The maid did as she was told, and her reward had been a bullet to the head, and her body being dumped in a drainage ditch. Martina had felt that if the maid would betray her employer, she would do the same to her once the five thousand dollars was gone. Perhaps squeal on her to Granger, or maybe even try to blackmail her. The plan had been running smoothly, until Grace had told Martina that Granger was thinking about having his wife committed so she could receive care. And, being as spoiled and impatient as ever, his hot-headed cousin couldn’t wait a bit longer to get her hands on Granger and his fortune, and that’s when she had brutally assaulted Cassandra, nearly killing her. Believing the woman was dead, she had wanted him to dispose of her battered body, and he was positive
that if she had known, at the time, that the woman was still alive, she would have finished the job.
But then something strange had happened. For reasons he was still unsure of himself, he had found himself smitten with her out of the blue, and knew right then and there that he couldn’t let her die, so he slowly nursed her back to health. When Martina had found out the woman had survived, she had been livid, but he had managed to convince her that he could make sure Cassandra would never return to Granger.
Seeing that he still wasn’t willing to let the woman go, Martina sat back, crossed her arms over her chest, and stuck her lower lip out like a petulant child.
In spite of himself, he laughed.
“I had every right in the world to do away with her! I saw Granger first, I wanted him first! Everyone knew that Granger was meant for me! I want her dead, do you hear me?” she hissed as she leaned forward again. Looking around the room furtively once more, she looked back at him and demanded in a low voice, “Just kill her.”
His earlier mirth vanishing, he pinned her with a withering glare as his eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared with fury. “Don’t push it, Martina. I told you before, I won’t allow you to harm her, ever again!” he said through gritted teeth, as his gray eyes took on the look of a predator.
Taken aback by his sudden change of demeanor, she cast her eyes downward, uncharacteristically intimidated. With a hand that trembled ever so slightly, she picked up her wineglass and took a tiny sip.
After studying her silently for a few moments, his face softened. “After last night, she’ll remember only what I instructed her to remember. Don’t worry, I’ve made sure she’s absolutely terrified of Granger.” he said, basking in the knowledge of his own power, and proud of his work. He had manipulated her mind so that she would only trust him. Closing his eyes dreamily, his body hummed with pleasure as he remembered the feel of her in his arms, what it had felt like to kiss her, to hear her comply with his every suggestion.
Looking back up at him hesitantly, she saw his eyes open, eyes that shone brightly with a savage, inner fire. Excited, she gave him a girlish giggle. Leaning close to him, she asked, “What did you do to her? How can we be sure it worked?”
Just then the waiter came with their fresh drinks, and asked if they were ready to order their meal.
Not even gracing him with a glance, she waved him away as if he was an annoying housefly.
With a carefully neutral expression on his face, the man turned and left.
“So, tell me, how do you know it worked?” she demanded, her voice childlike. An evil, demented look came over her face, an expression that would have frightened anyone other than him.
Leaning back and crossing his arms, he sighed. If there was one thing he had always hated, it was having anyone, family, friends, or colleagues, questioning his abilities. Reminding himself that he had already hurt her feelings earlier, he remained calm. “ Several years ago myself and two other chemists made the perfect drug to use with hypnosis.
What it does, it basically allows me to form Cassandra’s mind, mold it like clay."
Giving her a smug smile, he proudly bragged, “I’ve been giving her low doses for three years, along with other drugs, in order to suppress her memory. Last night I gave her a large dose, and under hypnosis, I told her that Granger was the one who savagely beat her and left her for dead. And that she must stay away from him, at all costs, because if he finds her again he will kill her this time.”