Stardust (The Starlight Trilogy #3) (12 page)

“Mama.” Nathan’s eyes widened. He couldn’t take another step. His mother rested on her back on a rickety-looking bed, dressed in a hospital garment that looked many sizes too big for her frail form.

He swallowed hard and studied her from his spot by the door. She stared at the ceiling. Blank. Unseeing. Her usual blond hair had grown out several inches, revealing gray roots that matched her complexion. But the worst part? The buckled leather restraints shackling her wrists and ankles to the bedframe.

“What have they done to you?” he whispered.

Lucille brushed his mother’s matted hair back from her forehead. “You look very pretty today, Marion.”

His mother responded to nothing. Not to Lucille’s voice, not to her touch.

“Why don’t you come over and say hello, Mr. Taggart?” The nurse addressed him in a voice suitable when speaking to a toddler, but he was too stunned to be offended.

Nathan willed his feet to move. His mother needed to see a familiar face, hear a familiar voice. That was the problem.

A rank odor assaulted his lungs and churned his stomach as he grew near. He refrained from pinching his nostrils. Dear God. When was the last time his mother had bathed?

Up close, her appearance was even more startling. Her eyebrows were not drawn in. Deep wrinkles creased her face, making her look older than her true age. Her pupils were dilated. She still hadn’t blinked since his arrival.

“Mother.” He cleared his throat in a bid to eliminate the hoarseness in his voice. “It’s Nathan. Your son.”

No response.

Lucille smiled down at her. “You were giving us some trouble earlier, but you’re relaxed now that you’ve had your medication. Aren’t you, Marion?”

Nathan shifted his gaze away from his mother’s face. He sucked in a breath. Her arms were bruised over prominent veins. The hospital was administering her medication by injection. What medication? And how frequently? Given her current state, he was afraid to ask.

“Is she like this all the time?”

Lucille linked her hands in front of her. “Considering the degree of difficulty she presents when she’s completely lucid, we find it best to keep her sedated. Comfortable, I mean.”

His mother blinked.

Hope sprung to Nathan’s heart. It was brief, like the flickering light above the bed, but something was better than nothing.

“Mother? It’s Nathan. Your son.” He bent over her. “I’m here.”

She blinked again.

Nathan placed his hand to her cheek and almost withdrew it instantly. She felt ice-cold. A tear rolled down his face. “I’m going to take care of you. I promise.”

Her lips parted.

“Are you trying to say something, Marion?” Lucille asked her question loudly, as though his mother was hearing impaired.

Nathan took his mother’s hand. “Mama? What is it? Talk to me, please.”

His mother’s eyes, no longer the ocean blue color from his childhood, fixated on his. The scream that blasted from her throat launched Nathan across the room. Convulsions racked her body, her hands and feet confined by the restraints.

Nathan’s fedora fell to the floor as he smashed his palms against his ears, trying to block out her cries. He didn’t realize he was still retreating until he collided with the far wall. Lucille called for assistance while his mother wailed and flapped on the bed as if possessed by a devilish creature.

Two nurses burst into the room. One held a needle and a brown vile. Nathan watched in horror as they yanked up his mother’s gown, turned her on her side as much as the restraints would allow, and injected her right buttock with a clear liquid. The nurses remained calm throughout the process. Just another day at the office, wasn’t it?

His mother’s convulsions grew more sporadic, less intense, until she was merely twitching. Her screams calmed to whimpers. Then, finally, silence overtook the room and she stilled.

Nathan lowered his hands from his ears. Trembling, his heart hammering against his ribcage, he could only stare, though his vision was blurred. He touched his cheeks. They were wet from tears. He wiped his face quickly.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, Mr. Taggart,” Lucille said gently. “But now you understand the severity of the situation.”

Nathan gulped. He definitely did. While he hated to see his mother tranquilized, the alternative was much worse. He’d been foolish to think a country escape would save her. No, that would be up to Dr. Littman and the rest of the staff at Bellevue. But most importantly, himself.

Nathan grabbed his fedora off the floor and walked to the door. “Let me out.”

As promised, his mother’s “old friend” waited for him in the hallway. The man’s expression was apathetic. How any friend of his mother’s could not be deeply affected by her condition was a mystery to him.

“You two may speak privately.” Lucille departed with the other nurses, leaving Nathan and the man at one end of the hallway and the security guard at the other.

“That was very difficult for you, wasn’t it?” It was more of a statement than a question. The condescension that sharpened the man’s gaze compelled Nathan to answer anyway.

“I’m fine, sir. It’s her I’m concerned about.”

The man nodded. In approval? Or maybe understanding. It was hard to tell. “You’re a strong boy.”

Nathan straightened his posture to match the man’s calm exterior. “I am not a boy.”

“Ah, yes. Your eighteenth birthday is on Wednesday.”

Nathan froze. “How do you know that? Who are you?”

“My name is Luther Jensen Mertz.”

Nathan’s jaw dropped. “Mertz. As in the boss of Starlight Studios?”

Mr. Mertz’s eyes narrowed, as if he was insulted that Nathan would think he was anyone else but the owner of the largest movie studio in the world. “That’s correct.”

“I’ve seen photographs of you before.”

Mr. Mertz adjusted his tie. “Of course you have. I am a very prominent and influential man.”

Nathan dipped his gaze. Though he stood a few inches taller than Mr. Mertz, he had never felt so small and inconsequential than he did in that moment.

Mr. Mertz smirked. He seemed to feed off Nathan’s discomfort. “I was notified that the wire I had Dr. Littman send you was delivered this morning, so I came to Bellevue to await your arrival.”

“You sent the wire?” Nathan’s eyebrows furrowed. “How did you know where to find me? How did you know my mother was even here?”

“Because I was the one who had her admitted.”

Nathan shook his head. He couldn’t have heard the man properly. “Excuse me?”

“I had a cohort of mine follow her. She’d been living in various shelters and wandering the streets during the day. When I was told how greatly her condition had deteriorated, I sent him to collect her. Marion was a very dear employee for many years, and Bellevue is an excellent hospital, better than the facilities out west. Her mental illness requires top-notch intervention. Thus, here we are. As for how I found you, I have many resources at my disposal. It wasn’t very challenging.”

“While I’m grateful for your concern, sir, my mother cannot afford her treatment.”

“Yes, I know. Bad investments destroyed her fortune.”

Nathan recoiled. “Then why did you put her in here?”

Mr. Mertz’s smirk widened into a haughty grin. “I’ve heard that you’re a bright boy, a hard worker. I’ve also heard that you’re trying to make a name for yourself in the newspaper industry.”

“How did you—?”

“You will learn quickly not to question me, boy.” Mr. Mertz’s eyes dimmed. “The bottom line is this—I will pay for all of your mother’s hospital expenses.”

Nathan clutched his fedora to his chest. “Thank you, sir.”

Mr. Mertz held up his hand. “But I need something from you in return.”

“Anything.”

“I want you to work for me in Los Angeles.”

Nathan’s joy transformed to wariness. “Why? I know nothing about the entertainment business.”

“I need someone I can trust, someone to do whatever I say, a young lad I can meld into the perfect right-hand man. There will be jobs I request of you that you wouldn’t concede to complete under ordinary circumstances. Depending on me to pay for your mother’s medical bills gives you the motivation to keep your mouth shut and obey me without question.”

Nathan swallowed hard. “What kind of jobs?”

Mr. Mertz’s glare intensified. “Does it matter? Your mother needs help, and I am the only person she knows in a position to do something about it. Plus, I can ensure her illness remains a secret. You wouldn’t want her condition to be leaked to the press now, would you? Her good name will be scorned publicly and permanently. Everything she worked for professionally will be destroyed.”

Nathan blanched. This was blackmail through and through.

“Your present interests may lie in journalism, Mr. Taggart, but I think you’ll find the motion picture industry much more fascinating, especially since you’ll start at the top as my personal executive assistant, instead of slaving away for years without a guarantee of ever earning a prominent title, as would be the case with the newspaper business.

“No one will ever know that your job is related to your mother. I won’t reveal our arrangement to anyone, and nor will you. There are conditions to my offer, of course. I will teach you everything you need to know in order to fulfill your duties to my studio and to me. You will be respected by industry professionals, connected to everyone who’s anyone in town, and you will achieve all the acclaim you desire. I will provide you with a house, a car, living expenses, and travel expenses, anything else you need. However, you will not earn a salary, as you will be indebted to me. Understand?”

Nathan searched Mr. Mertz’s face for any signs of sympathy, remorse. “So you want someone to work for you who will remain discreet and ask no questions. And you would actually let my mother be put out on the street if I declined.”

Mr. Mertz glanced at the door guarding her room. He gritted his teeth. A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Yes. Now give me an answer, or I leave immediately and you’ll never hear from me again.”

Nathan exhaled a shaky breath. If he agreed to Mr. Mertz’s proposition, he would live on the other side of the country, so he couldn’t visit his mother often. Also, he’d be working in the industry she’d tried to shield him from his entire life. On the other hand, if he refused, she wouldn’t receive the treatment she so desperately needed. And it would be selfish to request a transfer to a Los Angeles facility if Bellevue hospital was one of the best mental health institutions in the country.

He stuck out his hand. “We have a deal.”

Mr. Mertz’s lips curled into a smile that seemed more sinister than celebratory. He made no effort to accept the handshake. “Go home and pack your belongings. A studio car will pick you up from that abysmal apartment of yours at seven-thirty to take you to the airport. Your flight is booked for nine o’clock tonight.”

Nathan lowered his hand. “My flight is booked already? But how did you know—?”

“Enough!” Mr. Mertz’s scowled. “You are not allowed to question me from now on, boy.”

Nathan bowed his head. His mother. He was doing this for his mother. “Yes, sir.”

Nathan had only seen his mother a few times since that visit six years ago, most recently in October when she had one of her worst psychotic episodes to date. For months, he thought his mother’s condition might have improved, but since she was so strongly sedated, no one could tell. He requested the hospital decrease the dose of her medication. Two days later, she grabbed a metal fork during dinner and drove it into her arm. Nathan flew to New York City as soon as he received the news, lying to Olivia and his friends about the purpose for his trip.

Dr. Littman continued to press for a lobotomy. However, Nathan had conducted his own research and found that the procedure often did more harm than good. Despite his mother’s horrifying incident, he stuck to his decision, because doing the right thing was important to him. In so many aspects of his life—except loving Olivia—he had done a lot of wrong.

Onscreen, his mother danced with her leading man at a lavish party, smiling and laughing, so bright and lively. The film ended with a close-up and a fadeout. As the score swelled to a triumphant conclusion, Nathan blinked back tears.

The houselights came on and the couple walked up the aisle.

“Wasn’t Marion Whitney the greatest?” the young man said.

His female companion beamed. “She sure was. I wish she was still acting today.”

“Hey, mister.” The young man directed his attention on Nathan. “Don’t you think Marion Whitney is one of the most talented actresses in movie history?”

For the first time in a long time, a genuine smile spread across Nathan’s face. “Yes, she most certainly is.”

After the couple left, Nathan stared at the blank screen. His mother had loved acting. She belonged in motion pictures and shone in every role. At least he’d managed to preserve her legacy. He still had one last job to do, however—one he could no longer put off.

Within an hour, Nathan stood at the front gates guarding the home of Luther Mertz. He had never been here before—never been invited in the entire time he’d worked for the man—but he rang the buzzer without hesitation.

“Mertz residence,” came the response from the intercom.