Authors: Steven Gossington
Chapter 51
I’ve got to get back to work
, Aaron thought.
Taking more time off wouldn’t be good for me.
It was Monday, four days after his psychotic breakdown. He lay awake in his own bed well before the alarm clock was set to ring.
I wonder how everyone will treat me.
As he opened the front door of the clinic, he heard a familiar voice.
“Good morning, Doc,” Stella said.
Aaron stopped, took a deep breath, and scanned the waiting room and the hallway. “It’s good to be back.”
Stella walked out from behind the registration desk. “Good for us, too. Otherwise, we don’t make a living. You look great.”
“Thanks. I feel good. Not just good. I feel better today than I’ve felt in a long time.”
“Wonderful. Let’s fire this place up again.”
“Did you change the light bulbs? It looks a lot brighter in here now.”
Stella smiled and put her hand on his shoulder. “No. The light bulbs are the same. I think you’re the one that’s been changed.”
Aaron sighed. “For the better I hope.”
Everything feels fine
.
An hour later, Aaron entered a patient room and saw an adolescent boy sitting on the examination table, rocking back and forth. A woman stood and greeted Aaron. “I’m Owen’s mother.”
“What can I do for you today?” Aaron said.
“Owen has had problems in school for a while, but recently he’s been acting very strange.”
Owen stared ahead of him as he rocked.
“How has his behavior been strange?” Aaron said.
“Sometimes when he talks, he doesn’t make sense, and he’s been disappearing from the house. We find him outside, usually hiding in bushes. He acts like he’s afraid of something, and he won’t leave the bushes. We have a hard time getting him back into the house.”
Aaron stood beside Owen. “Why do you hide outside?”
Owen looked down. “Because they yell at me.”
“That’s what he tells us,” Owen’s mother said. “But we certainly never yell at him. Do you think he’s imagining these things?”
“That’s possible.”
I know exactly what he’s going through
.
He’s trying to get away from the cruel voices.
Aaron turned to Owen’s mother. “I’d like to refer him to a local psychiatrist. I think he needs a thorough evaluation.”
“Can he be helped?”
Aaron nodded. “Absolutely he can.”
Believe me, I know.
Just after closing time, Aaron sat in a chair across from Stella at the registration desk. He leaned toward her. “How have you been sleeping?”
“You’re wondering how I’m doing after—”
Aaron nodded. “After we found out Brad was the one who accidentally caused your son’s death.”
Stella smiled. “I’m feeling much better about things.”
“You’re letting go of the anger?”
She swelled her chest. “Does it look that way?”
Aaron smiled. “Yes, it does.”
“I’m glad it shows.”
“I think you answered your own burning question.”
Stella looked puzzled, and then she nodded. “Oh, you mean about forgiveness.”
“Clearing out the pain with forgiveness.”
“I guess I did answer it.”
“Come on, let’s dance,” Aaron said.
Stella laughed. “Dance? Whatever for?”
“We’re both feeling good. Let’s do it.” He walked over to her and escorted her to the waiting room.
Aaron waltzed with her in circles.
“Stop a minute. If we’re going to do a happy dance, I’ll teach you the Cajun jig,” Stella said. “Follow my steps.”
As she hummed a festive Cajun song beat, they held hands and pushed and pulled their arms back and forth, with an up and down movement of their bodies combined with twirls and spins and any other variations around the floor that Stella could think of.
“Where did you learn a Cajun dance?”
“In the early years of our marriage, we’d spend a weekend now and then in Louisiana, and we’d go to Cajun dancehalls after dinner. You should try it.”
“I might do that.”
After several minutes, Stella stopped, out of breath. “You learn fast.”
Aaron laughed and walked her to the front door. “Thanks. That was fun. I could hear the Cajun accordion and fiddle playing as we danced.”
“It’s a great way to celebrate.” Stella’s jolly face beamed. “You brought back good memories for me.”
That evening, Aaron drove to Rachel’s house for dinner. A pleasant aroma of tomato sauce with a hint of garlic greeted Aaron at the front door.
They sat down close to each other at the dining room table, toasted their wine glasses, and dove into the savory meal.
“This lasagna is terrific,” Aaron said through a mouthful of pasta.
Rachel smiled. “It’s one of my specialties.”
After dinner, Rachel stood and walked over to a window that looked out to the trees behind her house. “I got some weird news today.”
Aaron joined her. “What?”
“Remember I told you about my ex-fiance?”
“How could I forget? The doctor in prison for Medicare fraud, right?”
“That’s him. A friend at the hospital called me and said he’s not in prison anymore.”
“Maybe they released him for good behavior or some other reason?”
“I don’t know why he’s out. But I wonder if he’s still mad at me.”
“Why would he be mad at you?”
Rachel sighed. “I’ll tell you the whole story someday.”
Chapter 52
Aaron felt less stressed since starting his new antipsychotic medication, and he experienced no significant side effects. Even his anxiety over Race calmed down a bit.
One afternoon—nine days after Aaron’s return to work—his new neighbor Emily knocked on his front door.
“Hello, Em—”
“We’re moving out tomorrow.” Emily’s wide eyes were bloodshot. “I haven’t slept in a week.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I think that house is haunted.”
“The Taggett’s old house? Haunted?”
“Our kids told us about a light moving around deep in the woods in back of the house. And I saw it, too, a few nights ago.”
“A light? Like a flashlight?”
“No, not really. It’s a faint light, and it floats around.”
“That’s weird.”
“We hear strange noises at night. Sometimes it sounds like moaning, from deep in the forest. It’s too creepy.”
“I don’t think I could sleep in that house, either.”
Emily shivered. “I heard stories about that crazy guy who killed girls. He used to live in that house.”
“Race Taggett.”
“What happened to him? Is he in prison?”
“No. They haven’t found him. The police think he’s hiding out somewhere in the Big Thicket.”
“We’re staying in a motel tonight.” She looked back at the trees across the road. “We’ve got to get away from here.”
“I don’t blame you.”
Aaron closed and locked the door. He felt tightness in his throat.
Race is still roaming out there, somewhere.
Chapter 53
Tucker Boudreaux rushed into the clinic near closing time the next day, his hair ruffled with a cowlick jutting straight up.
Aaron hurried over to him. “What’s wrong?”
“I’ve been worried sick. Mama told me about something I’d said.”
Aaron smiled. “Now, what are you worried about? Did you say something about me?”
“Not you, your
bele,
your girlfriend.”
“Rachel? What about her?”
“I’m afraid for her. Somebody is going to hurt her, soon.”
Aaron’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
“Just please keep a close eye on her. I’ll feel better.”
“Okay, I will. Thanks for letting me know.”
Aaron frowned as he watched Tucker leave.
A short time later in the parking lot, Aaron called Rachel on his cell phone.
“Hi, Aaron.”
“I just called to say hello. Is everything all right?” he said.
“Sure. It’s nice of you to think about me.”
“Nothing unusual has happened recently?”
“No . . .” Rachel paused.
“What? Rachel?”
“Well, now that you mention it, I thought I saw someone in the woods behind my house a few days ago. I’d forgotten about it.”
“Keep your house locked up at night.”
“I don’t think you need to worry. I’ll stay safe and secure.”
“Maybe I should come over and check it out.”
“You know you’re welcome anytime, but I think all is well here.”
“I’ll visit you now. It’ll make me feel better to see you.”
“Wonderful. I’ll rustle up some food for dinner.”
Aaron’s stomach knotted up as he started up the Volvo.
It’s probably nothing
.
He called her again on the way. “I’m almost to your house. I should’ve offered to bring some food or drink.”
“That’s okay. I’ve got everything we . . .”
“Rachel? Are you there?”
“My eagle is making quite a ruckus out back. I’ll see you in a minute.” She ended the call.
Aaron gunned his car along the last stretch to Rachel’s house. He whipped into her driveway, jumped out of the car, and sprinted to the back yard.
Pulling up at the rear edge of the sanctuary fence, he spotted a figure jogging toward the edge of the forest with long hair flapping. Something was draped over the figure’s shoulder.
Aaron cupped his hands around his mouth. “Race, stop.”
Just shy of the trees, the figure slowed and turned around. Aaron ran up closer and stopped about ten feet away. Race’s eyes studied him, like a big cat examining its prey.
Aaron shook his head. “Please, don’t do this.”
Aaron didn’t blink as he focused on Race’s eyes, and the two men faced each other as still as statues. Aaron heard a whistling breeze from deep in the forest.
Race took several deep breaths, his eyes softening as his face furrowed into a frown. He crouched and laid Rachel on the ground.
Race cocked his head and studied the limp Rachel. “She’s not like the others, the ones that laughed at me.”
“Then why did you hurt her? Why?”
Race shot up and jabbed his finger at Aaron. “To get at you. To make you suffer, like I’ve suffered.” He snickered. “And I’m having a lot of fun doing it.”
A tremor passed over Aaron’s body.
Race sneered at Aaron. “I saw you were crazy for a while in the Big Thicket. But I want you as sane as me the next time we meet.” He cackled and fled into the trees.
Aaron put a hand to his forehead.
What am I doing in this bizarre place? Maybe I should get the hell out of here.
Aaron hurried to Rachel and kneeled down beside her. “Rachel?” he said, but she didn’t respond. He noticed that her breathing was regular.
He hoisted her up in his arms, then he stared into the trees and listened.
There’s no way I could catch that guy. I’ll let Constable Greevy know.
Aaron carried Rachel back to the house and laid her on the living room couch to look her over.
That’s a nasty hematoma on her temple.
Aaron eased her into the back seat of his car and sped toward the hospital ER. En route, she moaned a few times and then opened her eyes and managed to sit up.
“What is happening? I have a pounding headache.”
“You were conked over the head. I want to get a CT scan to make sure you’re okay. Just try to relax now.”
After a few minutes, he looked back. Rachel was curled up on her side, asleep again.
“Rachel?” Aaron shook her foot. She didn’t respond. He pressed the accelerator.
At least she’s breathing okay.
Aaron screeched to a stop in a parking space near the ER entrance. “Rachel?” he said as he turned to the back seat.
She was still unresponsive.
“Oh, boy. We need a CT scan stat.”
Several hours later, Aaron paced in a waiting room in the postoperative area.
He stopped as a surgeon walked up to him.
“We drilled a hole in her skull and drained a small epidural hematoma,” he said.
“So, she’s likely to recover all right?”
“Yes. These patients have a good prognosis, especially otherwise healthy patients like her that had a lucid interval after the injury. She had no other significant brain trauma.”
Aaron smiled.
That’s what I hoped he’d say
.
Later, Rachel was transferred to a private room. For the rest of the night, Aaron slept off and on in the chair beside her bed.
Aaron was awakened the next morning when a nurse entered the room. She checked Rachel’s monitors and touched her arm. Rachel opened her eyes, and the nurse smiled. “How are you feeling this morning, my dear?”
“Groggy,” Rachel said.
“She’s recovering well from the surgery,” the nurse said to Aaron, and then she patted Rachel’s arm and left the room. Aaron stepped over to the bedside.
“What happened to me?” Rachel said.
“Do you remember anything?”
“I was staring at my eagle. He was upset about something, flapping his wings and squawking like crazy. Then everything went black.”
“Race Taggett hit you over the head.”
Rachel’s eyes widened. “Race Taggett?”
“I stopped him at the edge of the Big Thicket. He was carrying you away.”
She shook her head. “What a nightmare.” She lifted her head. “I had to have surgery?”
Aaron leaned toward her. “You had bleeding outside the brain but inside your skull. It’s all over now. All is well. There was no injury to your brain tissue.”
“Whew. I’m glad to hear that. I do remember you were worried about me. I sure owe you one.” She laid her head back and sighed. “He must be really psycho. Do you think he’ll try again?”
Aaron looked out of the window. Appearing before him were Race’s face and eyes with that last mocking expression. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
“Why did he do that to me?”
“To hurt me. He wants me, not you.”
Rachel lifted her head. “Why on earth does he want you?”
“For some crazy reason, he’s chosen me as someone he has to defeat.”
“Surely the police or the Texas Rangers can catch him and put him away for good.”
“Maybe they can.”
Aaron stood at the window as trees in the distance swayed in a stiff breeze.
After the tornado, Race said he needs to have me with him. What the heck did he mean by that?