The Wager (12 page)

M
alcolm Brooks packed up his belongings in the hospital room as a nurse came to wheel him down to the exit. He felt ecstatic as his doctor had released him that morning.

"I can make it down on crutches," he offered.

"Against the rules, Mr. Brooks."

Malcolm obediently sat down in the wheelchair.

"I'll do anything to get out of here," he thought.

His butler and part-time chauffeur, Lorenzo Rodriquez, was waiting for him at the hospital door. He helped Malcolm out of the wheelchair and got him into the back seat.

"Where to Mr. Brooks?"

"Home."

Malcolm smiled as he anticipated the comfort and serenity of his large estate and looked forward to being surrounded by his large animal collection. It made him feel needed..

"Trump?"

"Picked him up this morning, Mr. Brooks."

Malcolm suddenly felt the cell phone in his pocket start to vibrate. He quickly pulled it out as the phone went into its customary musical summons.

"Hello," he wondered who was calling. Only several people had access to his private number. He was surprised to find Monica Mason on the other end. He had not seen or heard from her since his first hospitalization.

"Malcolm we've got to talk!"

"I'm just heading home from the hospital. I need a few days to recuperate, I'm afraid."

"Malcolm, I'm pregnant!"

"Pregnant?" Malcolm went into a complete panic.

"The doctor says I'm about three and a half months into the pregnancy."

Malcolm groaned to himself. Three and a half months ago was about the time he took Monica to Las Vegas for a holiday.

"But we were using birth control."

"The Doctor says it must have failed."

Malcolm tried to calm himself. He panicked but then remembered that all he had for an heir to his business was Lorne. He was convinced that Lorne would destroy the business in six months if he was given total charge. Malcolm suddenly realised that perhaps Monica having a baby was a good thing. He acknowledged that one of the greatest disappointments of his life was not having children.

"But with Monica? And at his age?"

"I'll have to get an abortion. This will ruin my career chances. I was just beginning to move forward."

Malcolm felt an even greater panic strike him. He was a lapsed Catholic but still considered an abortion the worst possible choice to the problem. He made an instant decision.

"No Monica! I'll come right over. Stay calm. We need to discuss this."

Malcolm told Lorenzo that something had come up. He redirected him to a jewelry store. Malcolm started to go into the store but felt quite fatigued over the latest crisis. He handed Lorenzo one of his credit cards, handed it to his employee and instructed him to go into the store and purchase an expensive engagement ring. When Lorenzo came back Malcolm stared at the ring in the box he had handed him.

"Great. A huge diamond. Monica will be pleased." He directed Lorenzo to go to Monica Mason's residence.

Monica met him at the door as he limped in with his crutches. Lorenzo remained in the car. Malcolm could tell that Monica had been weeping profusely. Her contact lenses were missing and dark circles were evident under his eyes. He sat down rather heavily in one of Monica's armchairs.

"Don't worry Monica. We'll get married," he promised.

Monica stared at him in complete amazement. She came over to the armchair, sat down in his lap and kissed him with great enthusiasm.

"I didn't think you cared, Malcolm."

Malcolm kept his real feelings to himself.

"I've always wanted children," he managed.

Malcolm managed to convince himself in his mind that he was doing the right thing.

Monica went bananas over the large diamond as Malcolm had thought she would.

"I want to go back to my career once the baby is born," Monica insisted.

"Of course," Malcolm readily agreed. "We'll hire a nanny. And I'll be around more to look after the baby. I need to cut back on my hours, anyway."

"What about a honeymoon?"

"A world cruise. I'll arrange it."

Monica threw herself into Malcolm's arms again.

N
orm Dixon could not believe that the Director of the Care Home would not let him interview his staff nor show them the composite of the man John Broughton suspected might have something to do with his mother's disappearance. The Director quickly ended his interview and was accompanying him to the door himself.

"You realise your client is suing us for negligence?"

"That explains it! No wonder that man is downright defensive," Norm thought to himself. "Maybe this home had something to do with the woman's disappearance. But why would John Broughton hire me to find his mother if he stands to gain a large settlement by blaming the home. He should have told me they were suing the home."

Norm Dixon decided that he would have to find a way to talk to the staff despite the Director's edict.

Later that night he came back to the care home.

"Hope he's not put out a memo to his staff to keep quiet about the disappearance," he thought. He decided that a bold approach was the right way to go. He walked right through the front door and went up to the receptionist. He pulled out his identification.

"Here about the disappearance of Bea Broughton."

The middle-aged detective breathed a sigh of relief as the receptionist did not show any sign of apprehension. She pointed out the window to the woods in the distance.

"She must be lying out there in those woods somewhere. This is the second time that the local police have been incompetent. They don't seem to be able to find anyone, any more."

"This has happened before?"

"Two years ago. A male, Alzheimer's patient. Never did turn up. That's when we moved the most deteriorated patients up to the sixth floor."

Norm pulled out the composites that John Broughton had made.

"Ever seen this man?"

"No, but that huge Rottweiler looks familiar."

The detective started in surprise. He pulled out the composite of the large dog.

"This dog? Wherever did you see him?"

"The night the woman disappeared. Several dogs and their two handlers were here. Said they were part of the Visitor Dog Program. He was one of them, I swear."

Norm's intuition told him that he was on to something. The hair stood up on the back of his neck. He asked for the name of the Coordinator of the Visitor Dog Program.

"Don't know. Didn't even know that we had a program. But the administration never tells us night staff what's going on."

"How would I find out?"

"Call the Administration Office. In the morning."

The Detective asked if anything else unusual happened the night Bea disappeared. His sixth sense kicked in as the receptionist told him about all the comings and goings that night, including the dog visitors, the surprise inspection of electrical wiring, a couple practising on the grand piano for a forthcoming concert and an unusual number of people in the laundry crew.

"Mind if I go up and ask some more of the night staff about that night."

"Go right ahead. Try the third floor staff. That's where the woman disappeared from."

Norm went through to the elevator and pressed the button for the third floor. He located the floor nursing station and went over to it. He identified himself and let the nurse know he was investigating the patient disappearance case. Norm showed the composites of the man and the Rottweiler to the floor nurse.

"That dog," the nurse decided. "He was part of the Dog Visiting Program that night. Him, a Rhodesian Ridgeback, a big poodle, and a Malemute."

"You're sure?"

"Either him or a dog that looked just like him."

Norm Dixon was ecstatic. He thanked the nurse and went on to interview the rest of the staff. By the time he was through he had descriptions of the two people inspecting the electrical installations, the two people practising on the grand piano, and the identification of the man in John Broughton's composite as a laundry worker who had only been seen that night.

"Now if I can just find out who these people are." He drove off to the Tyneburst Cafe. Norm went up to the manager and pulled out a composite of the large man.

"Don't know his name," the manager dashed his hopes, but the fellow comes in all the time. 'With that dog." He pointed at the composite of the large Rottweiler. And once he had a Sheep Dog with him. Norm realised he was going to have to keep the Tyneburst Cafe under surveillance.

The next morning his suspicions were confirmed as the clerk in the administration office informed him on the phone

that the care home did not have a visiting dog program nor did they have an upcoming concert lined up for their patients. The City Hall representative stated that they definitely did not schedule inspections for night time. By late afternoon not even a word of protest about his unauthorized visit had reached the detective and he concluded that the Director, the home administration office people, and its night staff were not communicating adequately with each other.

The detective's trained mind told him that an organized group of people must have removed Bea Broughton from the care home that night. Suddenly a hunch struck him.

"Maybe members of that Seniors dog walking club she belongs to?"

He picked up the phone and called John Broughton. He got through on the second ring and told him that there had been a series of unusual incidents at the care home the night his mother disappeared. He filled in the details as his client listened with great interest.

"Do you know the names of any of the dog walkers in the club your mother belongs to?"

Norm felt great disappointment as John replied in the negative but his spirits picked up again as he let him know where the seniors met.

"Down by the ocean where the river runs into the sea."

"Serenity Cove?"

"Yes, I think that's where they meet."

Norm felt his adrenaline surge as he now at least had a hypothesis to proceed on.

"The Detective thinks Mother is out there somewhere," John reported to his wife. "And that the members of her dog walking club might have had something to do with her disappearance."

"Ridiculous!" Orphelia shouted. "That detective is just setting you up for big bucks."

"What if he's right?"

"Then we'll be ruined financially, John. Or we'll have to get the Detective to get your mother back into that nursing home before she's able to run off somewhere if she hasn't already."

"Run off somewhere?"

"Out of the country. We wouldn't have the right to bring her back."

"You want her back in that home despite what happened?"

"It's in our best interest, John!"

K
oney Pratt sighed with nostalgia as Tyler Thompson came into the suite he had rented for her at his favourite hotel in the French Quarter. The smell of magnolias was coming through the open windows and the bright sunlight was luring everyone out onto the excitement filled sidewalks of the French Quarter.

"I'm not sure why I left here. I feel like I've come home at last."

"Oddly enough, I always feel the same way when I come here."

Honey stared at the handsome gentleman in the latest of Armani designed casual wear. Her heart beat increased and she felt warm vibrations around her heart as Tyler complimented her on her light cotton, very becoming outfit.

"Y'all must have lived here in a past life," Honey pronounced.

"In that case I wonder if I was the slave or the master?"

"I think you were the butler, Sugar," Honey said as she received the psychic impression of a tall, distinguished looking, tuxedo-wearing black man of about sixty years of age. His clothes were of the Abraham Lincoln era.

"Funny you should say that. I often have the feeling I've been in some of these alleys and historic buildings before. Particularly the old mansions along St. Charles Street."

"We've all been around a long time Sugar. We keep getting recycled, you know."

"But don't remember our past lives?"

"Exactly."

"In that case we had better enjoy ourselves now before we head off for the recycling process again. Heaven knows where we'll land up next time."

Honey laughed deeply. Tyler took her in his arms and kissed her passionately. Honey felt herself responding in kind. Within minutes both were lying on the replica of a Lincoln-era, canopy-covered bed.

"His energy is delicious," Honey said to herself as vibrations caressed her vagina and heart. Pictures of herself as a housekeeper on a plantation flowed into her mind.

"We've been together before," Honey assured her latest lover quite some time later as he brought her to a full, heart expanding climax. It had been as if they had known each other for eternity. Tyler groaned as his own sensuality reached its peak and the two of them clung to each other in ecstasy.

"What took you so long to find me?" Tyler complained as they finally pulled themselves out of the luxurious bed.

"You must have landed too far North this time, Sweetie."

The phone rang shrilly breaking their mood. Tyler handed Honey the phone.

'Charlotte, what you doing Girl, calling me this soon?" Honey demanded.

"I told y'all I'd call this evening."

Tyler laughed discreetly in the background as Honey promised her daughter that they would stay out of the hot sun, wear sun screen and a large hat at the race track they were going to shortly.

'Role reversal?" he questioned as Honey finally placed the

receiver in its place after assuring Charlotte that they would be having an early night as the sunshine and fresh air were sure to tire both of them out.

"I've got reservations to the midnight show at the Preservation Hall," Tyler protested. "Pete Fountain and traditional Dixieland at its best."

"That girl! She just doesn't need to know how well we're getting acquainted," Honey laughed. "Let her think we're a couple of washed-up has-beens, romantically, of course. Thinks I'm going to embarrass her in front of all the people she knows in New Orleans."

"Of course she's right!"

"Let her find out later," Honey laughed.

The two of them left for the race track, laughing and in each others arms.

"Next time let's try Tantric sex," Tyler suggested.

Honey went into shock.

"Y'all know about Tantric sex?"

"I've been researching. Some of your New Age principles seem possible to me, somehow, since I met you."

"Researching with whom?" Honey demanded. A intense surge of jealousy went flying through he mind. Tyler laughed.

"Not with a live person. I just looked the subject up on the Internet."

Honey relaxed.

"Seems perfect for older people. As I'm sure you know, it takes us longer for the blood flow to return to the genitals after a climax. Sometimes a matter of several days. We might as well do something like Tantric sex in the meantime."

"Y'all is thinking more and more like I do all the time, Sugar."

'And Tantric sex is all about blending the energy of the two people, losing themselves in the Divine, right?"

Honey stared at Tyler in absolute amazement. By this time they had reached Bourbon Street and the cab that Tyler had ordered ahead. As they sat down in the rear seat Honey pulled Tyler against him and kissed him passionately. As they relaxed several minutes later Honey gave him the first in a series of instruction on conducting Tantric sex. She told him that first they would both undress and assume a meditation position on the rug in her suite near the African statue of fertility that was on one of the end tables. Then they would stare into each others eyes until they started to lose themselves in each other. Then she would show him how to ground through the first chakra or energy centre near the tailbone. From there Honey told him they would stimulate each of their chakras in turn until they reached the sixth centre. From there hopefully they would enter the sacred space of the seventh and commune with the Divine.

Much later that night, following the race track and the Preservation Club Tyler insisted on Honey keeping her promise to teach him about Tantric sex. Honey placed her comfortable bed quilt on the floor in front of the African statue of fertility. She showed him the standard meditation position for Tantric sex and had him running energy through his seven psychic centres until they both seemed to go into a deep sleep simultaneously. Honey and Tyler spent the rest of the night and part of the morning quite comfortable snuggled in each other's arms until the phone rang shrilly. They both ignored it but it kept ringing. Honey finally staggered up and grabbed it.

"Girl, what are y'all doing calling me this early in the morning?" she demanded angrily. Tyler started laughing discreetly..

"Oh, it's noon. Uh, what are we doing today Tyler?" Honey covered up the phone.

"Thought we would take in all the varieties of jazz down here at the various clubs. You know, Big Band, Fusion, Avant Garde, Neoclassical, the Blues and Swamp."

"Swamp?"

"Rock and roll with a touch of Cajun."

Honey took her hand off the phone speaker and told her daughter that they would be having quite a quiet day since it was Sunday.

"A tour through the old mansions on St. Charles Street followed by the evening Church service at the cathedral."

Tyler went into convulsions as Honey told her daughter not to phone too late as she would be turning in early and hung up the receiver.