Plain Jane (12 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: Plain Jane
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It was after midnight when Trixie popped two bottles of Sapparo beer and fired up a cigarette. Flash sat between her and Fred on the sofa, something he hadn't done before. Fred fed him a few pretzels while Trixie expressed her thoughts. “I've been thinking, Fred. We're getting up in years, and God knows we've got more money than we know what to do with. I think I want to go into semiretirement. I had more fun today than I've had in a long time, and now that I've had a taste, I want more. I want to spend good quality time with Flash and enjoy him.”
“Give up writing, Trix? You got to be kidding. It's all you know. All either one of us knows.”
Trixie had prepared herself for every possible response. “That's because we haven't taken the time to do anything else. We've let our editor push us into doing one book after another. After we had a couple of best-sellers, and they knew what we were worth monetarily, we should have called some of the shots and set our own deadlines so that we could have had a life. That's it, Fred. We haven't had a life.”
Fred looked bewildered. “So what do you propose, darlin' ?”
“I don't want to cut off my nose to spite my face, so how about you write the books, and I'll edit them. We'll talk to Frasier and tell him we're cutting back to two books a year, and if he doesn't like it, he can shove it where the sun don't shine.”
Fred looked stunned. “I—Well—” he stammered.
“I know it's a bolt out of the blue, but something happened to me when I took on that dog. It was like when we took in Jane. She was so bitter, so hostile, and so miserable she wanted to lie down and die, just like Flash did. We saved her, Fred. You and me. But she doesn't need us anymore and, damn it, Fred, I liked that feeling of being needed. I felt like I counted for something back then with Janie, and I know you felt the same way. I need to be needed even if it's by a dog. We're old, Fred. Whatever time I have left in this world, I want to use doing good for something or someone. Right now that someone is a dog. That's the best I can do as far as an explanation goes. I can edit in the morning and racy it up a bit when you slow down, but that's all I'm willing to do from here on out. What do you think?”
“I think it's about time!” he shouted, grabbing her and hugging her. “I can't wait to call Frasier and give him the news. I wish we had one of those phones where you can see the other person.” He pushed back from her. “You're sure you don't just want to quit altogether?”
She shook her head. “No. At least not yet. I think we need to taper off slowly. Going from writing three books a year to two is good for now.” She upended her beer. “I know I won't be able to traipse around in those fields shooting off my gun and chasing Flash for more than a year or two. I'm seventy-hmm,” she mumbled against the bottle top. She snuggled up against the big dog. “Fred, you should have seen him. He
loves
the siren and those flashing lights. The excitement of it all is what he lives for. I'm going to call Ramos, the desk sergeant, tomorrow and get the phone number of the guy who trains the K-9s. I'll offer him a small fortune to come out here and work with Flash one day a week. For realism, we'll bring Olive over to be trained.” She stared straight ahead, her thoughts swirling.
“I'm with you, my little love muffin. One hundred percent. I've become very fond of this dog, and whatever makes him happy makes me happy. It's a good thing our Janie knows her business, or we'd be singing a different tune right now.”
They cuddled Flash between them.
Trixie got up. “So who's going to brush Flash's teeth tonight? Me or you?”
“I'll do it,” Fred offered. “You go on up to bed. Flash and I will just sit here for a while and watch that old rerun of
Casablanca
.”
“You might want to clean off his feet, too. I have a feeling he's going to be sleeping with us now. See you in the morning, Fred.” She leaned down to kiss him and found herself kissing Flash's nose instead.
“Hey, Romeo,” Fred said. “That's
my
girl!”
 
 
Jane stared across the room at the fish tank. Within minutes the tension was leaving her shoulders. Mike should be arriving soon, she thought, her heart taking on an extra beat. She sipped her cup of green tea, her eye on the tiny clock next to her chair. So far Brian Ramsey hadn't canceled his appointment but it was only 3:45. He'd canceled as late as three minutes to four, which meant he could still do it.
The buzzer on her intercom went off. “Dr. Sorenson is here, Dr. Lewis,” her new office temp bellowed in a very unprofessional tone. Jane winced.
Jane pressed the button, and said, “Show him in, Wynona, and speak a little softer when announcing people, please.”
The door opened, and Mike walked in. “Wow!” he said, glancing behind him. “Leather jumpsuit, spiked hair, green lipstick, and an eyebrow ring.” Mike grinned as he flopped down into the chair next to Jane.
“Looks are deceiving. She's actually a scheduling genius and a whiz at filing and bookkeeping. I'm almost all caught up thanks to her.” She leaned toward Mike. “I just wish she would dress a little more conservatively. I try not to look at her,” she whispered. “It's only until Lily gets back. Would you like some tea or coffee? Wynona makes very good coffee, too.”
“Okay, I'll take coffee. What's your feeling, Jane, is he going to be a no-show?”
“My bet is he'll show. I told him if he canceled one more time at the last minute, that I would bill him. He didn't like that.” She handed Mike a mug. “Frankly, I think this is a game of some kind with him. He's playing with me. You've read his file. What there is to it. What do you think?”
Mike leaned across the little table that separated their two chairs. “Truthfully?”
“Of course, truthfully. What an odd question,” she said, looking at him in bewilderment.
“What I think is you associate this guy with your friend's rape at LSU. I think he said or did something that triggered your memory about that night. I could be wrong. Let's play it out when he gets here and go on from there. Worst-case scenario, we boot his ass out of here or introduce him to my battery guy, who, by the way, just donated tons of the stuff to two different schools. Ask me why, Jane.”
“Why, Mike?”
“So he can buy more batteries, of course. Does that make sense to you?”
“Absolutely.”
“Good, we're on the same page again.” He focused on the fish tank. “I like that you got big fish rather than a bunch of little ones. You named them, didn't you?”
“Sure, that's Gracie, and that long one is Slick.” Jane jumped when the buzzer sounded.
“Mr. Ramsey is here,” Wynona said in a soft, sexy voice.
Jane rolled her eyes as she pushed the return button. “Thank you. Wynona, please send him in. Oh, and Wynona, get Dr. Sorenson some coffee. Two sugars, no cream. And ask Mr. Ramsey if he would care for coffee or tea.”
Moments later the door opened. Jane stood up. “I'm so glad you could make it today, Brian. Please, make yourself comfortable.” As soon as he was seated, Jane made the introductions. “As I told you, Dr. Sorenson is going to be sitting in on my sessions for a while, and he'll also be joining me on my talk show. He has familiarized himself with your file and will be handling this session. I will be observing and taking notes.”
Mike began the session with casual questions, questions Jane knew were just warm-ups. As the session progressed, she found herself really impressed with Mike's methods. She didn't like the way Brian Ramsey kept looking over at her. She thought about what Mike had said and wondered if he was right. She could hardly wait for the fifty minutes to be up.
“Correct me if I'm wrong, Mr. Ramsey,” Mike said. “You said that there hasn't been any change in your situation? Does that mean you haven't made any effort or that your wife is holding you at arm's length?”
“My wife packed up and went to her mother's.”
“Does the mother live close by?”
“New Orleans. Not exactly around the corner. And since I have a business to run—She calls.”
“You don't call her?”
“ No.”
“No? Something isn't computing here. You came to Dr. Lewis for help. Talking is the first step. Putting a plan together is the second step. And trying to work at what you perceive to be the problem is the third step. According to Dr. Lewis's notes, she suggested you follow all three steps. Why did your wife leave?”
Ramsey rearranged himself in his chair. “Because I can't get past what happened to her.”
“Have you thought about why?”
“Sure.”
“Okay, so why?”
“I'm not so sure she didn't do something to instigate it. You know, with a look or a gesture. Women are always giving guys that come-hither look, teasing them, egging them on. They give you all these go signals, and when you move they stiff-arm you. You're a guy even if you are a shrink, so you know how it plays.”
Jane wrote down his responses word for word and wondered why these answers hadn't come out before. She'd asked practically the same questions.
“Come-hither looks are not an invitation to rape. No woman wants to be raped, to be violated like that.” Ramsey's expression mocked Mike's statement. “What would you do if someone raped you? Believe it or not, men rape other men all the time.”
Ramsey glared at Mike. “That would be the damn day when some guy raped me. It would never happen, Doc. Never,” he blustered. “If any guy even looked at me cross-eyed, I'd let him have it.”
“What do you weigh? One-eighty? One-ninety? What does your wife weigh?”
“Hell, I don't know. One-forty maybe. She's not fat, but she isn't exactly an Olive Oyl either.”
“I assume, then, that you think your wife should have fought her attacker?” At Ramsey's nod, Mike continued. “In all likelihood the rapist outweighed her by forty or fifty pounds. Unless she's taken lessons in self-defense, what chance do you think she would have had against him? And what if by fighting him, she only angered him? He might have done more than rape her, he might have killed her.” He paused for a long moment. “Is it possible you wish she had never told you what happened?”
Ramsey eyed the fish tank, then the coffee cup he was holding. He jerked his head around to stare at Mike Sorenson. “No. Yes. Jesus Christ, I don't know. What I do know is I wish to hell it had never happened.”
Mike threw his hands in the air. “Why are you here seeking help from a psychiatrist? Your wife should be here. You should be counseled together, then separately. Right now, the way I see it, you're wasting everyone's time and the insurance company's money. Well, Mr. Ramsey?”
Ramsey set his coffee cup down. “My wife didn't report the rape to the police. She wanted to, but I stopped her. We live in a small town. I own a business. That's all people would talk about. How was all that going to look? You know how people gossip. It would have ruined me financially.”
“I see. There are monetary considerations. Since you can't seem to get through this, have you thought about divorce ?”
“I think we both want out of the marriage,” Ramsey said, glancing at Jane.
“Did you have problems before your wife was raped?”
“Minor ones. Nothing serious.”
“We'd like to have you bring your wife in to the next session. That way we can level the playing field. If you're not agreeable, then my recommendation to Dr. Lewis will be to cut you loose and let you seek help elsewhere.”
“You know what? I think that's a good idea,” Ramsey said, standing up. When he reached for his jacket, Jane noticed that his hands were huge and strong. A football player's hands. Now where had that thought come from? she wondered, shivering. She opened the drapes and stood in the warmth coming through the window. “The next time you see Todd Prentice, tell him I said hello,” she blurted, surprising herself.
Ramsey stopped in midstride and turned to face Jane, a sly look on his face. “I'll do that,” he said, his cold eyes impaling her.
Jane gasped.
There were no handshakes, no good-byes. He was there, and then he was gone.
Jane stared out the window, Ramsey's answer and expression imprinted on her brain. He knew Todd Prentice.
Knew him.
When she'd mentioned his name, she hadn't really thought there would be a connection. What did it mean?
Mike threw his hands in the air. “There's
something
about that guy. . . . Now I know what you meant when you said he made your skin crawl.” He got up and walked over to where Jane was standing. “Who is Todd Prentice?”
Jane crossed her arms and hugged herself. She felt like her body was twitching from head to toe. “The quarterback Connie Bryan was going to marry. The one I told you about. He lives in Crowley.” She considered voicing her concern about the connection between Prentice and Ramsey, but decided against it. It was probably just a coincidence, nothing worth thinking about.

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