Never Forgotten (21 page)

She arrived quickly at the Thompson Farm and pulled into the drive. Luke Thompson was dressed in jeans, a flannel shirt and a worn chore jacket, very different than the pristine doctor garb he had on the day before. He motioned to her to pull her vehicle back behind the house and followed her around.

“Hello,” Mary said, as she was getting out of the vehicle. “Thanks for…”

His punch just caught her jaw and she was knocked back against the car.

“You should have stayed out of our business,” he said, fists clenched and ready for the next hit.

Mary turned and stared at him; she rubbed her chin with her hand and waited. He moved closer.

“You should have left good enough alone,” he said, raising his fist for another blow.

Mary pivoted and caught him in the stomach with a roundhouse kick that sent him falling backwards. “And maybe you ought not to pick on girls anymore,” she said.

He screamed and lunged at her, grabbing her around the knees and dropping her to the ground. She moved to dodge his fists, rolling one way and then the other. He had her arms pinned, so she couldn’t push him off. She lifted both knees and pushed up, loosening his hold. She rolled away and jumped up. He charged, she sidestepped him and kicked his back propelling him forward. He rammed into the SUV and dropped to the ground, motionless.

Panting with exhaustion, Mary stumbled forward. She stood a few feet away from him for a few moments, trying to detect any telltale movement.
Nothing.
She moved closer, wanting to check for a pulse. She bent over and his hand reached up and grabbed her hair. He yanked her to the ground and punched her in the face.

Mary screamed and tried to get loose, but his hand was buried deep in her hair and he jerked it back, twisting her neck.

He pushed her up against the vehicle, pinning her arms and legs. He pulled back on her hair, exposing her neck. He lifted his other hand and stroked her collarbone. “I could gut you, right here and now. One quick cut along the jugular, just like we do to our chickens,” he whispered. “But, I have something much better for you. You like helping bad women so much, you can keep them company.”

His hand slipped up and tightened on her neck, cutting off her air pipe. “Go to sleep, bitch.”

Mary watched in horror as daylight darkened to black.

“Well, I’m afraid I don’t have good news,” Dr. Thorne said, walking into the examination room. “There has been increased liver damage and we don’t know what’s causing it and, therefore, what we can do about it.”

“We think it might be linked to something I drank,” Bradley said. “We should be getting the test results back this afternoon.”

Dr. Thorne breathed an audible sigh of relief, “I’m relieved to hear that. Be sure you bring those results in to me as soon as you get them,” she said. “I don’t mean to sound dramatic, Chief Alden, but you really don’t have any time to spare.”

Bradley nodded.
“Understood.”

“Well, put your shirt back on, so you don’t have all of the nurses swooning,” she said with a smile. “Then go back home and rest. Lots of fluids and when I say lots, I mean that when you feel as if you couldn’t stand putting another bit of liquid in your system, drink two more gallons. Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bradley said, reaching for his shirt.

“Good,” she replied. “I want those results this afternoon and then I’ll see you again tomorrow morning. If things don’t look better, I may need to hospitalize you.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” he said.

“Yes, let’s,” she said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She left the room and Bradley slid off the examination table and turned to get his shirt. He heard the door open behind him. “Sorry,
Doc,
is there something else you need?” he said, turning.

“Angela? What are you doing in here?”

Angela closed the door behind her and pressed the lock. “I just wanted to see how you are doing,” she said. “I’ve been worried about you.”

“Well, thanks for your concern,” he said. “But I’m doing fine.”

She moved closer and Bradley stepped back. “You don’t look fine,” she said. “You look a little yellow. You look sick.”

Bradley felt like a mouse with a cat in the room and he didn’t like that feeling. He moved forward, “Listen Angela, you need to leave this room.”

She moved closer, “I’m sorry, Bradley.”

He shook his head in confusion. “Sorry, for what?” he asked.

She shrugged and smiled.
“For this.”

She stabbed a hypodermic needle into his arm and pressed the plunger down.

“What the hell?”

Bradley staggered backwards. Angela caught him and placed him in a nearby chair. “It was the only way, darling,” she said. “I had to do it for us.”

Bradley’s vision was blurring and it was hard for him to remain conscious. “Angela,” he groaned. “You can’t do this.”

Opening the door, she reached over and pulled a wheelchair into the room. “Oh, darling, not only can I do this, I am doing this. And, I’m going to get away with it.”

She rolled the chair next to Bradley and shifted him into it. He tried to fight, but his limbs were not cooperating. “Darling, the medicine is helping you relax,” she said, running her fingers through his hair. “You look like you could use a little relaxation.”

She bent in front of him and buttoned up his shirt, and then she pulled his jacket over his arms and shoulders and zipped it up. “There you go,” she said, all nice and warm. “Don’t want you catching cold.”

She propped the door open and pushed him out of the room and down the corridor. At the end of the lab area, near the reception desk, an orderly stopped and watched them approach. He put his clipboard down and hurried to the door. “Here, let me get this door for you,” he said, and opened the door leading to the main corridor.

“Please,” Bradley groaned.

“No need to thank me, Chief,” the orderly responded smiling, “Have a nice day.”

“Thanks, you too,” Angela said.

She pushed him towards the Emergency Room entrance. Standing at the doorway stood one of his officers, Tom
Killoran
. Angela pushed him right up to the officer.

“Are you taking the Chief home?” Tom asked.

Angela smiled, “Yes I am,” she said, “He needs his rest.”

Tom nodded. “Yeah, we don’t want anything to happen to him.”

“Would you mind walking us to my car,” Angela asked. “He seems a little worse for wear today and I think I’m going to need some help getting him in it.”

“No problem, ma’am, I’ll be happy to help.”

They walked outside and found it was beginning to snow. “I’ll just run and get my car,” she said, “If you’d just stay here with the Chief.”

“My pleasure.”

Kneeling down next to the wheelchair, Tom shook his head. “Wow, Chief, you’ve got all kinds of good-looking women taking care of you,” he said. “You are one lucky guy.”

Bradley took a deep breath and tried to concentrate. He only had one chance.

The car pulled up and Angela stepped out of the driver’s door. Bradley looked into Tom’s eyes.

“Being…taken…against…my…will,” he said. “Help me.”

Tom didn’t see Angela stop and tense up. Instead, he laughed and patted Bradley’s shoulder. “Good one, sir,” he said. “But you used that one the other day, and I nearly fell for it then.”

Angela released her breath. “He’s such a tease,” she said brightly, “Even when he’s sick. Come along, darling; let’s get you in the car so this nice officer can get back to work.”

They got Bradley into the car and Angela waved at Tom as they drove off. “Well, that was certainly a frightening moment,” she said. “But now there are no more obstacles and you, my dear Police Chief Bradley Alden, are coming home with me.”

Bradley shook his head.

“Oh, darling,” she laughed, “you’re fighting spirit is just one of the reasons I fell in love with you.”

She reached over and ran her hand up his arm. “That and your handsome body,” she whispered. “We are going to have so much fun together.”

She drove to her home and parked her car at the far end of the driveway, behind her house. Opening his door, she half-dragged Bradley out of the car and laid him on a plastic toboggan. She pulled him through the snow to a small ground-level door.

“This used to be the Coal Shoot, darling,” she said, to the now-unconscious Bradley. “But, I found it very helpful for all kinds of deliveries.”

The toboggan slid slowly down the 45 degree angle, Angela using a sturdy rope to control the rate of descent. Finally, it slid to a stop on the basement floor. “I’ll be down in a moment, darling,” she called, “I can’t wait until you meet daddy.”

The bell over the door to Rosie’s Real Estate office jingled and Rosie looked up from her computer screen. “Stanley? What’s up?”

Stanley walked over to her desk and nodded at the screen. “You got something important going on?” he asked.

“No, I’m just answering e-mails,” she said, “It’s pretty quiet during the week between Christmas and New Year’s.”

Stanley sat on the chair next to her desk. “Did you get a call from Bradley?”

Rosie shook her head. “No, I thought he must have called you.”

“No, and that don’t sit right with me,” he said. “He’d of called if they were admitting him, wouldn’t he?”

She thought about it for a moment. “Well, he’s a fairly private man,” she said. “But he’d know we’d worry. So, yes, I believe he would call.”

“And if Mary went and got him, she’d call, right?”

“Well, of course, our Mary’s not one to leave us high and dry,” she said. “She’d call us right away.”

“Yep, I agree,” he said. “So something’s up.”

“Yes, something’s up.”

“My car or your car?”
Stanley asked.

“Your car is closer,” she answered, grabbing her purse and her coat, keys in hand.

On the way to the hospital, Rosie tried calling Mary. “She’s not answering,” she said. “That’s not like her, especially with Bradley so sick.”

“Could be she’s out of cell range,” he said. “There are a couple places out in the country where you don’t even get one bar.”

“Yes, I know, like Orangeville.”

Stanley turned to her. “Orangeville?” he asked, his eyebrows rising to his hairline. “You don’t think she’d do something stupid like go out there again by herself?”

“Well, of course she would,” Rosie said. “That’s her job.”

Pulling the car over Stanley put his elbows on the steering wheel and put his head in his hands. “It’s like having teenagers all over again,” he groaned.

“We could call the hospital and see if Bradley is still there, then we could drive out to Orangeville,” Rosie suggested.

Nodding, he turned back to her. “You are a smart cookie sometimes,” he said.

Acquainted with some of the ladies who volunteer at the reception desk, Rosie called there first. “Why yes,” her friend, Nellie, responded. “I saw the Chief being wheeled out of here about two hours ago. A lovely young lady helped him. They even stopped and chatted with the officer on duty.”

“Thanks, Nellie,” Rosie said. “You helped us solve a mystery.

Rosie relayed the information to Stanley. “Well, it must have been Mary,” he concluded. “Maybe those two young people decided they needed a little alone time.”

Smiling, Rosie nodded, “That’s probably it,” she agreed.
“Pretty silly of us to worry.”

“
Naw
, it’s because we’re friends, good friends, and it’s what we do.”

Reaching over and placing her hand on Stanley’s, Rosie smiled, “You’re right, Stanley, that’s what friends do.”

Mary woke to someone calling her name.

“Mary, wake up. Come on Mary, you can get your beauty sleep later.”

She opened her eyes and found herself staring at a translucent Jeannine. “I really need you,” Jeannine said.

Mary looked around. She was in the loft of a barn, sun filtering between the wood panels on the roof. She was against a wall, with tall stacks of hay encasing her in a small room between her and any exit. She looked down to see her hands and feet were tied with thick rope.

“Excuse me,” she said. “I hate to state the obvious, but I’m a little tied up here.”

“Mary, she has him,” Jeannine said. “Angela has Bradley at her house.”

“Well, damn,” she swore, looking around the floor, “Well, help me find something to cut these ropes.”

“Mary, you know I can’t…”

“Yes,” Mary interrupted. “But we both know that you sometimes fudge the rules and if there were ever a time for fudging - now would be it.”

Jeannine faded away. “Well, thanks for nothing,” Mary called, dropping her head back against the wall.

The wood panel cracked beneath the pressure. “What the…”

She scooted around on the floor to face the wall. Most of the walls in the loft were exposed vertical two by fours, but this section behind her was covered with about four feet of wide horizontal boards. She saw the hairline crack she caused. “Where’s there’s boards, there’s nails,” she said.