Dreams of Reality (2 page)

Being a medical transcriptionist she knew the effects of these drugs to her system and did not want to go through what other patients she had typed experienced. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

She hated taking drugs, yet he sounded as if he knew what he was talking about and only wanted her to feel better. Relief filled her allowing her trusting nature to come to the surface.

Turning around so her backside faced him, she made herself relax to receive the injection, all the while listening to him.

“This is a three-month supply I will be injecting in your backside, but I’m going to schedule you to see me in a month and a half to check up on your pain and hopefully see progress. If there is soreness in the vagina, it’s merely a small convulsing side affect that your body might have from your period being stopped or slowed. A warm bath and lots of water to drink should relieve the uncomfortable sensations. Keep up your vitamin routine increasing your calcium supplement a bit.” He pushed her gown away, and then he inserted the needle in her rear, noting she only gasped a little. “I sincerely do hope the best for you,

Skye. If you need to speak to someone, please feel free to contact a colleague of mine, Dr. Ryan Carter. He’s extremely good working with the female psyche and panic attack victims.” He passed her a business card. “You will be fine if you take it easy and try not to work so hard.”

She nodded a little assured. “Maybe I should make an appointment with him? It’s not healthy of me to be so apprehensive.”

He smiled a beautiful white smile that made her gasp amazed at the brilliance. “Why don’t I let my nurse set you up with an appointment tomorrow about ten?”

“That’s good for him? So soon?” She had to wonder a bit why Dr. Himes wanted her to be a priority. If this doctor was so good, he had to have a long line of patients waiting to see him. Still, she kept this concern to herself as well.

“He’s a friend of mine, of course he won’t mind for me. Come back to the clinic tomorrow. He’ll be here.”

This made more sense. Dr. Himes was doing this as a favor to her. Maybe he valued Dr. Welch and decided to put more dedication into her. She was grateful for it, yet deep down inside she still wondered what his reasons for taking care of her were. “Thank you, Dr. Himes.” She slid off the table.

“Fine. Quite fine,” Dr. Himes said feeling a sense of dread for the kind-hearted patient. She was really sweet and very beautiful - Too bad. “There shouldn’t be any problems.”

They went to Dr. Himes' office to speak more privately.

* * *

Putting her clothes on Skye looked over at the mirror behind the door. With her hair in corn rolled braids all the way down to the middle of her back, she looked rather plain in the t-shirt and jeans. As angelic as her oval face was with the crème brown sugar of her flawless skin, the small nose, and the thick lips, she still found it hard to believe the image that came back to her in the mirror. She was pretty when she didn’t consider the image as her, but she didn’t feel pretty.

She felt ugly and dirty sometimes as she remembered the gross stench of the foster father’s breathe on her neck and the groping hands of the female counselor.

Other times she didn’t feel anything at all. She was just Skye Patterson, a plain Jane with no middle name who was just trying to type her way through the world until she died. She didn’t need any excitement or friends, other people craved to get by. She was happy to be with herself.

Although loneliness was a bitch sometimes, she typed those feelings away as she had the feelings which came when she thought about her rape.

Driving home in a daze from the day’s endeavors, she entered her Westside three bedroom residential home. Two bedrooms were upstairs the master bedroom having its own private bathroom.

The lower bedroom on the first floor was being used as her office across from the other bathroom. There was a living room as soon as one entered with the dining room off to the right. The kitchen was in the back of the house and the basement held extra things including her washer/dryer room.

Picking up the paper on her porch on her way in, an interesting article on the side bar of the front page caught her eye. Not really the article, but the man in the picture above the article. He was tall, broad shouldered, and extremely handsome. In the article some African American local businessman was being awarded a mayor’s plaque and was being honored as a community leader. Her finger rubbed the face on the paper and wondered what it would be like to meet him.

Placing the paper away from her, she shook her head, going straight to her office. Skye knew she would have a panic attack or throw up from being so nervous.

She rarely went anywhere except her office, where she earned a living as a home transcriptionist. She did medical and word processing, plus light medical billing for a couple of doctor’s. Sheila also helped her with this as well.

Going straight to her office, she pulled out her dictionary of medical terms.

A couple of hours later, although she never saw the birth control Dr. Himes had mentioned as she researched it in her medical books around her office, she remembered he said the drug was new to the market so she should find some article related to the chemical or the study of the drug on the Internet if she searched hard enough. But at this point, she did not really feel like doing anything.

There was a slight soreness in her backside from the shot and she knew she would rather spend the rest of her energy typing rather than concerning herself with a birth control she knew would never be used for sexual means. It was to slow her period down to keep the cramps away. That would be all its use for her—nothing else.

Skye had no intentions of having any sexual relations in the near future and to concern her worries with the birth control would be a pure waste of time.

Instead she turned on her computer to begin typing. Setting her fingertips to the keys relaxed her and listening to other people’s problems made her less worrisome about her own isolated lifestyle.

Maybe she would meet someone perchance in fate or something. Maybe she wouldn’t have an attack and act a ninny or shy and maybe one-day hell will actually freeze over, pigs will fly, and she’d walk in her bedroom and see Thaddeus Newman sitting there in a nice black robe – and nothing else- waiting to make love to her.

Oh yeah... not!

Chapter 2

Craig Simpson entered the private entrance avoiding the front desk of the small office of his blood brother, Thaddeus Newman, a meticulous, goal oriented young man. They had been friends since childbirth. Born in the same year and their mothers closer than anything, Craig was the brother Thaddeus never had.

They were like night and day. Not much could rile Craig up, but everything seemed to make Thaddeus an active volcano. Craig had always seen Thaddeus angry or emotional about something. While in Craig’s case, he may become pique or even bothered, but never screaming mad.

Even though Thaddeus had played football all his life until he had torn a major cartilage in his knee in a Rose Bowl Game when he played in college for the University of Michigan. Ruining his football career. He still received a master’s in business management and opened up his own real estate redevelopment and construction company. Being a black businessman in an industry filled with the majority, his success was noted all over the country. He had business ventures in five major cities, but based his business in Detroit, Michigan.

Craig on the other hand had excelled in high school JROTC. After serving eight years in the Army, he joined Detroit’s police force becoming a detective in Illegal Operations for Western District.

When he entered the office, Thaddeus was on the phone. Craig caught his light cinnamon eyes and nodded him toward the nearest chair across his desk. Craig waited patiently as the large frame blood brother discussed meeting some potential customers tomorrow at the bookstore café in the strip mall he enjoyed to visit.

Once off the phone he called Trisha, his assistant in the front of the office, to enter the appointment in his planner. He coolly turned his attention to Craig.

“So what’s up, Bro?” Thaddeus asked leaning back in the chair.

Craig could hear the chair protesting the weight. “My sergeant wants to speak with you. He’s waiting in the private entrance. I didn’t want to come through the front because I didn’t want Trisha to know we were here.”

He frowned displeased by this surprise. Thaddeus did not like surprises and his strong fingers drummed irritably on the table clearly showing his irritation. Craig never visited him at work, wanting to always keep the knowledge of them being close private to others because of Craig’s job and Thaddeus many contacts.

Even when he called Thaddeus at work he used Mr. Smith so no one could put two and two together about Thaddeus Newman and Craig Simpson.

“Look Thaddeus if you don’t then don’t, but I wouldn’t ask if this wasn’t important to me and the force.”

Thaddeus calmed down a bit noting the serious look in Craig’s pitch black eyes. “Fine, show the sergeant in.” He pressed the button.

Sergeant Nolan decided not to mince words with the businessman. He had been a fan of his football season, and to sit in front of him now was almost an honor. He got right down to business. “Most of what we have to go on about this case is speculation and from leads, taps, and street sources. Trevor Coleman Sr. a.k.a. Cole Forsythe better known as Fats, has been in the underground business for about five years or more. He literally corners the drug market in the Metro Detroit area. One of the most popular drugs, which have been the bulk of his wealth, has been GHB, the popular date rape drug. He controls the market in distribution, but this of course is only hearsay. Last year, we tracked him to Venezuela, where we suspected him of buying steroids, then to Chatham in Canada. Here our agents assumed he was stocking up on the party drug, Ecstasy. We have gathered supposed evidence of his Internet commerce, where we believe he is buying key ingredients for GHB. We've had to track him down, arrest him, and have to release him at least ten times in the past twelve months, while our prosecutor’s charge him.”

“Until recently, no Michigan State Police chemist knew how to test for gamma hydroxybutryate, which is what GHB stands for,” Craig added. “He’s done his operations so well, we are having a tough time finding out if he does have any connections to these crimes and it’s no field testing of GHB on the street, so when his people who are connected to him, or even Fats himself is caught with the drug, or ingredients to make GHB we can’t fully charge him until the lab results come back, which won’t be until two to three months from now. The more we wait for the prosecution, the little our case will weigh against his lecherous attorneys.”

The sergeant continued explaining, “Fats and other wealthy crime bosses in other cities are donating large sums of money into private non-profit scientific research of late, on neuron-chemicals that may affect the brain. He uses his import/export business as a front to do his underground dealings and money laundering.”

“This is all word of mouth, right? Because if you had proof of this we wouldn’t be here discussing this.” Thaddeus questioned.

Craig nodded a bit frustrated. “We’ve been on the case for about four years and we can’t make anything stick to him or his organization. Initially, Fats was heavily into prostitution, but it’s becoming ever increasingly hard to track down all his women when he isn’t getting them off the streets.”

“Call girls?” Thaddeus suspected out loud.

“You could say that . . .” Craig trailed off. “From my resources, he’s gotten a way to take everyday women and control them at a level of subconscious behavior where these women have no idea what they are doing.”

Thaddeus looked in clear disbelief. His cinnamon eyes actually flickering in skepticism, from the sergeant to Craig. “This is all hearsay and I’m suppose to prove it?”

“Yes and no.” Craig knew Thaddeus would catch on quickly. “You see we know Fats has been using his connections approaching well-to-do gentlemen for services. Most have denied. Others when we’ve approached them have not been acceptable to the situation. We’ve decided two things: either find a john to testify or find a prostitute we can get to testify and identify the major players who are helping Fats.”

“Or both,” Thaddeus concluded.

“You understand where we are coming from then, Mr. Newman?” Sergeant Nolan smiled, relieved.

“Most definitely. You want me to be a john and get a legitimate solicitation from him, then see if I can investigate the girl?” Outwardly, he seemed uncomfortable about the idea.

“Yes, except we need you to just prod the girl for information and we will do the investigation.” Sergeant Nolan said statically.

He frowned fierce, enough to put fear into anyone who didn’t know him well. Thaddeus seemed quite displeased at the fact Craig would even consider him. His integrity in the community could be demolished if any of this was leaked. He had worked sweat and teeth to get to where he was not only financially, but also business-wise and the very idea that he could be in cahoots with a loan shark, drug-dealing pimp would destroy his career and life.