Remember Me (15 page)

Grabbing the cleaning tools for the gun, she took a box of bullets out, then went out onto the front porch to wait. Sitting down in her brand new wicker chair, she hummed to herself softly and began cleaning the weapon slowly and methodically. Her thoughts drifted back and forth between the present and the past, as she thought of her daughter, and her beloved late husband.
“Leo, I just know you’re up there in heaven, laughing your head off at me, aren’t you?" she giggled at one point.
“Don’t you worry my love, I’m going to look after our baby, same as you would have, you loveable old coot…”
Fifteen minutes later a black, soft-top Jeep Wrangler pulled up into the driveway. Killing the engine, the tall white man got out and approached the porch briskly. Clutched in one hand was a giant bouquet of what looked like wildflowers.
“Lordy, the devil in blue jeans…” she muttered. With a huge, disarming grin, he began climbing the porch steps, and she almost laughed when he finally spotted the large revolver she was clutching, and his once confident stride faltered. “Come on up, young man…” she called out loud with phony kindness, “….don’t mind this thing here, need to keep my gun ready at all times. You know, living so close to the woods and all, I have problems with snakes and such. Then there are always the two legged snakes I have to keep an eye out for too, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Mrs. Ames, how are you ma’am?”  he asked as he visibly turned the charm back up a notch, and finally stood in front of her chair. Reaching down slowly and carefully, he took her free hand in his, bent over, and kissed her knuckles lightly.
While her gut reaction was that he was nothing more than a dapper skirt-chaser, incredibly, she found herself charmed in spite of the fact. Struggling to maintain what she hoped was a neutral expression, she took the flowers from him and placed them on a small wicker table to her right. Gesturing to an empty chair in front of her, she replied, “Thank you, Mr. Mortensen. I may need these later, to put on someone‘s grave, if I have to. You get my drift…?”
“Yes ma’am, I do believe so.” he answered smoothly, catching her off guard.
Nodding, she continued. “So, my baby tells me you two are going to go look at some property in the mountains that she wants saved from your development. Seems to me a smart business man like yourself would already have seen that land.” Seeing the sudden look of guilt on his face, she pressed her momentary advantage. ”My Cassandra walks around with stars in her eyes,
it’s
just way she is. She could find some good in the damn Manson family. She’s been that trusting and caring about every soul she’s ever met since she was a just a toddler, and her father impressed upon her the love and concern we should all have for the land. Now SHE may believe you when you say this trip is innocent, but speaking for myself, I smell bullshit. So tell me, what are you playing at, Mr. Mortensen?”
“Please, call me Granger.” he answered smoothly. “Listen, I’m no fool myself, and that means I know YOU aren’t as well, so I’ll level with you. You’re right, I do have an ulterior motive. I was absolutely taken with your daughter from the first time I ever laid eyes on her. I also know she would never in a million years go out with what she calls a ‘big business pig’ otherwise. So I led her to believe I was considering not developing the property, until I could figure out a way to get her to fall for me.”
To her amazement, she found herself not only caught off guard, again, by his straightforward style, she couldn’t help but admire his brutal honesty. The man had actually looked her in the eye and told her he was playing her baby. In spite of her earlier resolve, she found herself beginning to thaw. Unsure what to say next, she slowly replied, “Alright Granger, thank you for respecting me enough to tell me the truth, that’s a rare enough thing with anyone, this day and age. I’ll level with you too. She’s my only child, from the only man I’ve ever loved, and ever will love, even though he’s been dead for a very long time now. If you hurt her, I’m going to put this gun here to good use.” Picking the weapon up dramatically, she stared at it with wonder and continued.
“You hurt her, and I’ll not only blow your balls off, I’ll make you eat them for lunch."
His face went completely blank for a moment, in seeming shock at her language, then he threw his head back suddenly and roared with laughter.
Unable to help herself, she giggled as she placed the gun back in her lap.
When they both calmed down, he cleared his throat and wiped his eyes. “Ma’am, you can rest assured I’ll treat your daughter with nothing but respect. Of course, the threat alone of losing my precious family jewels will serve as a reminder to always be on my best behavior.“ His voice softened, and his expression suddenly took on a somber demeanor. “You have my word as a gentleman that I’ll treat her like the treasure she is. Ma’am, this is not about sex, I can get that anywhere, anytime. She’s different. I really want to get to know her, I‘ve never met any woman quite like her.”
She studied him carefully for a moment, then leaned forward and patted his hand. Smiling for the first time since meeting him, she replied, “Cass is a bit of a Little Sally Flower Child, she’s sweet, trusting, and above all else, passionate about her beliefs and morals. Just be careful, if she finds out you’ve been playing her she’ll be fit to be tied. And when that girl gets mad, she forgets all about that love and peace stuff, believe me. You had better be even smoother than I think you are, because if you aren’t, she could end up making your life a living hell. That stays between the two of us, alright?” she finished with a wink.
Looking somewhat surprised, he said, “Yes ma’am, I understand.”
Nodding, she turned and called, “CASSANDRA? Your company is here!”
A moment later the smiling girl joined them outside, and she studied the young man’s reaction carefully, sensing nothing phony about his chaste greeting to her angel. ‘Well, maybe I was wrong about him…’ she thought as she finally relaxed.
Turning to her, Cassandra leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. “We’ll be back before dark.” she said, then suddenly froze as she spotted the weapon in her lap. With a puzzled expression, she asked, “Mom, why are you cleaning that thing, it doesn’t even work!”
Giving the suddenly laughing young man a sly glance and a wink, she said, “Was going use it to crack some walnuts for some fudge I’m making later. Don’t keep the man waiting, go on now! And don’t
bring anything
back you can’t carry in that backpack.”
Rolling her eyes she grabbed the young man’s hand excitedly and said, “I know I know, no, babies!”
Feeling someone touching her shoulder, Jocelyn looked around to see they had made it to the hotel.
Concern stamped clearly on his handsome features, Granger asked, “You alright?”
Nodding and smiling faintly, she replied, “Just remembering the good times, son.”
 

                                                        Chapter 14
Cassandra sat on a bench, staring at the overlook. The scenery had always had a relaxing, soothing effect on her. Earlier she had tried to contact Brett, but his answering service said he would be away for several hours. Not wanting to risk Granger finding her, she went to the general store, bought a long sleeve tee shirt, some snacks, and made the short hike here, where her soreness from the accident had forced her to stop.
“Well well, if ain’t Ms. Karen.” a voice interrupted her thoughts. Already knowing who it was, she turned and smiled at the man many people rudely referred to as the town bum, Box Charlie. The man had blown into town the previous winter, and she had seen him around and spoken to him on numerous occasions. The first time she had ran across the tall, ebony man, was in the hallway of her apartment building, and she had been a little afraid as he asked her if she had any spare change. But after noticing his limp and how frail his body seemed, she had relaxed and talked with him for a bit. Afterwards, she had always felt safe around him, and she would speak to him whenever she saw him around, and occasionally they would even go for walks together. The man would limp slowly beside her, often talking about his younger days as a park ranger, before he had gotten hurt in a forest fire.
Stepping around the table, shoulders slumped, he struggled to lift his thin legs over the bench, and finally settled in beside her.
Catching a strong whiff of what smelled like Irish Spring soap, she thought,
He’s the cleanest bum I have ever met. And come to think of it, I’ve never smelled booze on his breath either…..
“How are you today, missus?” he asked.
“I’m Ok, Mr. Charlie.” she replied, then dug around in her bag. Pulling out some snack crackers and drinks, she offered them to him, always worried that he may not be getting enough to eat. “Have some peanut butter crackers, and I bought some of your favorite root beer, just in case I saw you around. I must be psychic today, huh?”
“
Why, thank you kindly my young angel." he said as she handed the snacks to him.
Opening the pack of crackers, he quickly stuffed one in in his mouth and began chewing. Popping the root beer open, he took a swig, then mumbled with his mouth still half full. “Saw you had a little craziness going on. Came by the hospital to check on you, but the hospital folks told me family only, and no dirty bums.”
Touched by his concern, she marveled once again at how the man known only as Box Charlie seemed to be everywhere and know everything that was going on in town. It was probably because the greatest majority of people paid him little or no attention at all, and never minded their conversations when he was around. Most people simply walked by Charlie, who was always dressed in the same tattered clothes, with his oily box that contained what he called his
treasures
. Most of the time he was mumbling bible verses to himself, and most people avoided making eye contact with him all together. Even Cynne‘,
nice as she was, was uncomfortable around him. “Yeah, I was too busy running from my husband, wasn’t paying attention, and ran right out in front of a car.” she mumbled as she watched a deer dart across a path not far from them.
“From what you told me, you’re like ol’ Charlie here, gots parts missing from your head. So what you going to do besides running away?” he asked as he stuffed another cracker in his mouth.
Shrugging, she gazed off into the distance, feeling another migraine coming on. “I really don’t know. I found out I have a son, his name is Regan. Remember the child I told you I kept dreaming about? Well, he’s real, and he’s my son. I want to see him…hold him….have a chance to be his mother.” Pulling the photo out of her purse, she handed it to him.
Looking at the picture carefully, he gifted her with a sunny grin, showing off a mouthful of dazzling white, perfect teeth. “Handsome young man.” he replied.
He told me he‘s been homeless for ten years, how could his teeth be THAT perfect, it‘s impossible, isn‘t it…
?
She
wondered as she replied almost absent mindedly, “I’ll have to think of a way to deal with my husband, so I can see Regan.”
“I see.“
The mere
thought
of Granger suddenly triggered one of her frequent panic attacks, and she snatched her tote and began searching frantically for her medication. Grabbing the bottles with hands that were shaking badly, she dropped them. Fumbling around to grab them from the table, Charlie’s big, warm hands were suddenly covering hers gently, and she was surprised at the steadiness of those hands.
“Ms. Karen, you’re not going to find the answers you need in those pills. Let me have a look.” Lifting her hands, he scooped the bottles up and peered closely at the labels. Frowning, he placed the bottles on his far side, took both her hands in his, and spoke softly. “Baby girl, you have to put your faith and trust in your instincts, not in pills or what some head doctor tells you.
Hell, half the doctors are crazy themselves.”
“But I need…" she was interrupted as he held one hand up for silence.
“Child, I used to tell my girls this: Trust your instincts to the end, though you can render no reason.”
Amazed, she replied, “You’re quoting Ralph Waldo Emerson.”
Chuckling, he nodded, “Yeah, Sir Ralph was on to something. Now what are you going to do?”
Trust….my instinct….
After letting the words turn around in her mind and wash over her,
she stood and began gathering her tote and her trash. “I’m going to trust my instincts. Well, I’ll try to, anyway.” Smiling at him warmly, she touched his thin shoulder and said, “See you around Charlie.” Turning, she tossed her trash in a can not far from the table, and began walking away.
“See you around, miss.” his voice called after her.
She had only walked a short distance before she realized she had left her medication on the table, where Charlie had placed it. Turning, she started to ask him to toss them to her, but he was gone, and so were the bottles. “How the hell did the old man move that fast?” she muttered.
Looking around one last time, she shrugged and mumbled, “Oh well, I’ll just get it from him next time I see him out and about."
Turning, she left.
Hidden from sight behind a thicket of shrubbery, Charlie watched her leave. When she was gone from sight he looked down at his tightly clenched fists, and opened them. Looking at the little bottles there with utter disgust, he opened his old, tattered and worn cardboard box, and tossed them inside angrily. Standing to his full height, gone was the frail slump of his shoulders, and his dark eyes narrowed to slits. Putting the box down on the ground, he pulled a cell phone from the lower pocket of his ragged army jacket, then punched a number angrily, all the while muttering to himself. “Of all nature’s gifts to the human race, what is sweeter to a man than his children? Marcus Tullius Cicero.”
When a voice on the phone answered, he spoke gruffly. “I need you to meet me at the airport, I need you to do something for me.”
Flipping the phone shut, he tucked it back into his pocket. Picking up his box, he started down the opposite, rarely traveled trail. He was no longer limping.
         ***********************************************************
On his way back to the office, Raidon was in a foul mood. His guy had lost that slimy bastard Buddy Martin. Afterwards, the guy searched the private eye’s office and apartment, but it was clear the grease ball had flown the coop. What little cash the man had had in the bank had been withdrawn as well.
I should have clapped the bracelets on that drunk fuck
myself, and
took him to the cops while I had the chance…
he thought miserably.
His cell phone tone went off, and he gripped the steering wheel with one hand as he grabbed the phone from the dashboard and deftly flipped it open with the other.
“Bishop here." he answered, hoping against hope that someone had found Cassandra, or picked up Buddy‘s trail.
“You have to keep Ms. Washington from Doctor Parker, he’s doing things to make sure she doesn’t remember who she was!” a muffled voice on the other end said urgently. A
woman’s voice.
“Who are you? Can we meet?” he asked, quickly pulling to the side of the road. Flipping his wireless, satellite laptop open, he looked at the number on the caller ID, then quickly put a trace on the call.
“No! If we meet, he’ll know. He’s already planning on leaving the country with her, I saw the tickets! He doesn’t know I saw them, they’re under false identities, a Mr. and Mrs. Joshua Ferro. He even has a passport with her picture, under the name Debbie Ferro.”
Grabbing a pen, he quickly wrote the information down.
“Mr. Bishop, I know for a fact that before he leaves he’s going to put me back into that state mental hospital, just to shut me up. He has the clout to convince his colleagues that I‘m delusional. He can make it so no one will believe what I‘m telling you is the truth! You don’t know how bad it is in that place! That’s what he used to make me do anything he wanted, he knows I would rather die than go back to that place.” the woman’s voice sobbed desperately.
His heart went out to the woman immediately, as he recognized and was all too familiar with the sounds of not only desperation, but people who had been backed into a corner. “Listen, please,
PLEASE
meet with me somewhere. I promise I won’t let him send you back, I can get you protection and send you somewhere safe. I’ll stop him!”
The woman laughed harshly and hysterically, the laugh of a person who had lost all hope. “There’s no saving me, you don’t know him! Please, just try to save
HER
from that monster. Doctor Parker is pure evil, if she doesn’t leave with him, he’ll kill her for sure. Please, just try to save HER. Goodbye, Mr. Bishop.”
Thoroughly alarmed, he shouted into the receiver, “No, WAIT, DON’T HANG…..” and fell silent as the connection was broken. Glancing down at the laptop, he looked at the number trace still in progress and muttered anxiously, “Shit….come the fuck on…..” Several seconds later the prompt
Trace Complete
greeted him. “Yes!!!” he hissed as he pumped a fist in the air and read the name aloud. “Sammy Byrd, the son-of-bitch‘s secretary herself.!” he said with satisfaction. “I’ve got that bastard’s nuts roasting on a fire now!” he muttered as he quickly typed in a query for her home address. When that was finished he memorized it quickly, then merged with the traffic again, engine roaring.
His heart was pumping with excitement, he knew this was the big break he had been waiting for. From the sound of it, this woman Sammy had a lot of dirt on the good doctor.
The sound of looming sirens greeted his ears and he cursed under his breath, certain he would soon be getting a speeding ticket. Pulling over to the side of the road, he waited impatiently, and was surprised as two police cruisers sped by him, followed closely by an ambulance.
A sudden feeling of dread and foreboding welled up within him, and he merged with traffic
yet again and continued the drive to the secretary’s apartment complex.
          
**********************************************************
“Oh God, please no." he muttered as he parked his Hummer a block down from Sammy Byrd’s apartment building.
Three police cruisers and the ambulance were parked in front of the building, lights flashing in silence.
Stepping out of his vehicle, he made his way to the crowd gathered there, who were all standing behind the area the policemen had taped off. Spotting an elderly lady weeping silently, he asked her in a soft voice, “Ma’am, what happened?”
“Young lady killed herself, leaped off her balcony from eight stories up.
Nice girl, too." she sobbed.
“Lord, these children these days, don’t they know there is always hope?”
“Did you know her? What was her name?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
“Sammy….Sammy, oh, my memory ain’t what it used to be, I can’t remember her last name. But she was always so sweet, always had time to stop and have a word with a doddering old stick in the mud like me.”
“I’m very sorry.” he replied gently. Patting the woman’s thin, frail shoulders, he made his way through the crowd slowly. Spotting Detective Rhodes, who was standing in the cordoned area, he called out and waved to her.
When she spotted him, she spoke briefly with a patrolman, who quickly made his way towards him and escorted him to the detective.
Looking around grimly, he caught a glimpse of blonde hair matted with blood, just as the ambulance workers zipped the body bag shut and loaded the woman’s body onto a stretcher. Glancing at the area where her body had impacted, he saw a shattered cell phone, and his stomach clinched.
Oh God, she jumped after talking to me. She didn’t even take the time to put the phone down…
he thought, and uncharacteristically began feeling queasy.
Detective Rhodes came and stood next to him in silence as the police photographer took several more photos of the phone, blood stains, and the apartment balcony overhead.
Several moments later another detective approached her and handed her a clear evidence bag that contained what looked like a hand-written note. “Found this in her apartment.” he said. “Looks as if she had been planning this for days. She even took the time to pack and label all her belongings, with post-it notes on all the boxes, explaining who gets what. Her roommate had been sleeping until we knocked on the door, and she told us that something had been bothering the girl recently. She said that a few days ago she came home crying, and tried to overdose on sleeping pills and booze, but the roommate and her boyfriend got her to throw them up. She refused to go to the hospital.”