Remember Me

by Rainwater, Priscilla Poole

  Walking up to the head of the bed, Cynne’ looked down lovingly at her friend, and reflected on the fact she had never had a friend quite like Cassandra, someone she felt such a kinship with. Sure, she still had female acquaintances, but had never fully trusted any of them. Cassandra was different. Not only did she trust her implicitly and without question, she also knew her friend was loyal to a fault. But it went even deeper than that. Maybe it was because at times they both felt they were lost and floundering in life, each of them being chased by their own demons. She understood very well how terrible events of the past could haunt a person. That’s right, my sister, I understand. I know first-hand how just one moment in time can change a person’s life completely, and forever.. She thought. Reaching down carefully, she brushed her friend’s bangs off her face. Frowning, she wondered if her own past would ever come back to slap her in the face. If that ever happened, she would be dead, and unlike her friend here, she knew exactly who it was who wanted her dead. At that moment her friend stirred slightly, moaned, and her eyelids fluttered open. Smiling down at her, she said, “Well hello, sleeping beauty. How are you feeling?”

  Blinking several more times, her eyes finally lit up with recognition, and a ghost of a smile formed on her face. “Sore…sleepy…but I’m glad you’re here.” she mumbled, then drifted back off to sleep.

  Cassandra, I’m going to help you…somehow… she vowed silently. Suddenly shivering, she noticed the chill in the room for the first time since coming in. Reaching for the extra blanket at the foot of the bed, she covered her friend.

  Chapter 9

  Detective Jeanine Rhodes watched in silence as the man paced back and forth with the nonchalant grace of a caged panther. So preoccupied was he, he still hadn’t noticed her standing there. The expression on his handsome features was so intense, she half expected him to bare his teeth and growl. He’s definitely a prime piece of man meat…she thought as she noted his sexy bad boy look, his compelling blue eyes, and the firm features and confident set of his shoulders. It excited her. Taking in his tall body, she unconsciously licked her lips. She loved a man she had to literally look up to, since she was quite tall herself, for a woman, at five feet eleven. She could also tell with just a glance he was wealthy. He was wearing an expensive tailor made suit, designer shoes, and a gold and diamond encrusted Cartier watch. Everything he was wearing at the moment probably cost more than what she made in six months. Now why would a woman run from a man who could give her anything, and one so handsome, to boot? You never can tell though, the pretty packaging could be the cover for a monster…she thought as her hazel eyes narrowed. She had been with the police department for eight years, and five of those years had been working as a detective. She usually could draw a pretty good bead on people, and something about this man cautioned her to tread lightly. It wasn’t exactly fear, but the fact his entire aura seemed to evoke the feeling that he was a force to be reckoned with.

  There were two other people present in the room as well. An older African American woman, whose face clearly showed signs of stress and concern, and standing off to the side was a tall, fierce looking African American man, who was watching her closely, his black eyes impaling her. Employees, maybe? She thought.

  The African American man cleared his throat, and when the man who was pacing stopped and looked at him, the man nodded in her general direction.

  Slowly, the man turned his cool blues eyes on her, which seemed to communicate the silent message, “Well, what do YOU want?”

  Clearing her own throat almost nervously, she introduced herself. “Mr. Mortenson, I’m Detective Rhodes.” she said as she flashed her police identification, allowing him check her credentials. “I need to ask some questions about your wife…” she trailed off as she put her shield and ID back into her pocket, then flipped her tiny notebook open. “…Cassandra Mortenson, also known as Karen Washington.” Unable to help it, her breath caught in her throat at his reaction.

  Granger visibly bristled, and gave her a black look. “Her name is, and has always been, Cassandra!” he snapped, irritated by the fact people were still referring to her as Karen. Though he would never admit it to anyone, he was terribly afraid Cassandra was completely lost to him. Closing his eyes, he struggled to maintain his composure.

  Standing, the African American woman went to him, and the detective saw a depth of concern, familiarity, and understanding in her eyes. It was clear the two of them shared a close bond. “Granger, we’ll get her back, but we both have to be patient.” the woman said, and leaned against his arm wearily. “I’m going to the cafeteria, get us something to eat. We both need to keep our strength up.” she said, then nodded at her curtly and left.

  “Chief, I’ll be outside getting some fresh air. I’ll make arrangements for Mrs. Ames to stay at the inn,” the tall black man said, then left as well, closing the door behind him.

  Granger focused all his attention back on the detective, who was standing motionless in the middle of the room.” Well, what would you like to know?” he asked in a brisk tone, knowing his manners were somewhat brusque, but he wasn’t in the mood for polite conversation.

  Rising her fine, arched eyebrows, she asked, “Alright, let’s start by you telling me what exactly what happened between you two before the accident? What did you do or say that frightened her so much she would run right out into the street without even looking, in order to escape you and your entourage?”

  “She was scared, terrified of me.” I don’t understand it myself, believe me... he thought miserably. Sitting down on the couch heavily, he ran his strong hands over his face, and released a frustrated breath. “Detective, I don’t know the complete story. You see, I thought my wife simply abandoned our son, Regan and me. He was almost four years old when she left…I mean…disappeared. She had threatened to leave several times, up till that point. Well, I was away on a business trip when it happened. When I returned home, all her stuff was gone, except her engagement and wedding rings, which she left on our nightstand. All her clothing, luggage, and jewelry was gone, and I found out later that over six hundred thousand dollars had been transferred from an account I had had set up for her, the money had been transferred to an offshore account. Only when I hired a private investigator recently did I finally discover she had been viciously attacked by someone, and had no memory of the attack itself, or her past. When she first….. left, I was too prideful to go looking for her. If only I had known she had been hurt, I would have moved the heavens and the earth to get to her…" his voice trailed off softly.

  Giving him a thoughtful look, she carefully considered what he had said. “Mr. Mortenson, your wife was missing for three years. May I ask why you decided to look for her after so much time had gone by?”

  Looking up at her in shame, his shoulders sagged, and his voice softened. “Like I said a minute ago, I’m a prideful man. It’s just one of my many flaws, one that Cassandra pointed out to me dozens of times.” he replied, and chuckled softly at the memory. With a small, sad smile, he continued. “She used to tell me my pride would be my downfall. When I thought she just up and left us, I was hurt, and embarrassed, even though I knew she was unhappy at the time. I never thought she would actually do it. But to answer your question, I felt it was time for me to move on, and find a suitable mother for my son. Recently, Regan has wanted to know whatever became of his mother, and I felt he deserved the truth. So I set out to find the truth.”

  While he seemed sincere enough, over the years she had learned to believe very little of what she heard initially, until she was certain she had all the irrefutable facts. “Uh huh. Now, about this statement of yours about her being attacked, did that happen right here, in this town?”

  Instantly, the deep sense of guilt was back, and seeped through his entire being. “That, I can’t tell you. At the moment, it seems the person who knows the most about her attack is this Doctor Parker.”

  Scribbling the name quickly in her notebook, she nodded. “How did yo
ur wife come up with the name Karen Washington? Do you know anyone by that name?”

  At the present, it was a something he was paying Raidon Bishop to look into, how her false identity came into being. Shaking his head, he answered truthfully, “I never heard the name before yesterday.”

  She scribbled several more notes, reflecting that the case was becoming stranger by the second. “I understand you’re staying at the Rosetta Inn?"

  “Yes.”

  “Alright, Mr. Mortenson, I have your contact information. I’ll be getting back in touch with you later, after I have more information. For now, I’m going to check on the status of your wife.” she finished as she flipped the notepad shut and stood.

  Rising to his feet, he extended his hand, giving her a firm handshake. “By all means, feel free to contact me any time of the day or night. And of course, all the information my private detective has is at your disposal as well.”

  The touch of his hand instantly sent delightful shivers up and down her spine, and she was surprised to feel rough calluses on his hands. Holding his hand a bit longer than necessary, she was disappointed when he finally pulled it free and began pacing again. Oh, well, so much for mixing business with pleasure… she thought as she turned and walked out.

  ******************************************************

  “Doctor Parker, can I have a word?” Joy Bishop called the moment Brett stepped out of the lab.

  His back still to her, he quickly but nonchalantly stuffed the items he held in his right hand into his jacket pocket. Turning to address his younger colleague, he put on his most pleasant smile. “Yes, what is it?”

  “Doctor Parker, Mrs. Mortenson’s husband is demanding another psychologist take over her care.”

  Unable to help himself, the smile vanished in an instant, and was replaced by something far more unpleasant. “Doctor Bishop, no one else will see to her care but me. While I can understand his concerns for her welfare, HE needs to understand that I’m her doctor because that’s the way she wants it. This supposed husband of hers, well, he’ll just have to accept that and learn to live with it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of work to do.” he said, then turned and walked away.

  “Listen, doctor……” she called after him, but was ignored.

  Turning a corner, he glanced over his shoulder to make sure she wasn’t following him. Satisfied, he slipped quietly into another patient’s room, glad to see that the room’s occupant, a male patient, was sleeping. Taking the vials of blood from his pocket, he peeled the labels off, wadded them into a ball, and tossed them into the wastebasket. The unmarked vials he tossed into the hazardous waste container. “Blood tests gone, and the orders for them removed from the computer.” he muttered with an evil smirk.

  Pleased with himself, he left the room quietly to see Cassandra, aware that he needed to reinforce his hypnotic suggestions to her. These idiots aren’t smart enough to catch a man like me, at anything… he thought as he passed a nurse in the hallway and smiled at her pleasantly.

  ************************************************

  Joy frowned, wondering what Doctor Parker had meant by calling Granger, the supposed husband. The whole situation between him and Cassandra just seemed off-kilter somehow. Personally, she felt the ethical thing for the doctor to have done would have been referring Cassandra to another doctor, if for no other reason than to satisfy her husband. Somehow she suspected the woman wasn’t in the best of hands, and was completely unaware of it.

  “Joy, we need to talk.” Raidon’s frustrated voice cut through her thoughts.

  Sighing, she turned around to see her brother standing there, and from the determined look on his face she knew he was up to something. She had never understood why she always let him pull her into his schemes. He had been doing it since they were children, and usually she was the one who ended up taking the heat. Holding her hands up, she said, “Raidon, if this is about the Cassandra Mortenson issue, I just spoke to Doctor Parker, and he made it clear HE’S treating her, and no one else. And if I take a piss on his territory, it could be bad for my career, trust me. He’s golfing buddies with the chief of staff, and he’s on the board himself here.”

  Knowing his sister well, he what he always did. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders he looked down at her and gave her a playful pout. “Come on, sis! When your dumb cat was lost, wasn’t I the one who dropped all my important work and found the fleabag for you? When your Mr. Ed looking friend didn’t have a date for whatshername’s wedding, and you asked me to take her, didn’t I do it for you? Didn’t I suffer one of the most miserable days of my life, just for you? The mere thought of it makes me shudder! That coyote ugly girl slobbering all over my jacket and hunching my leg on the dance floor. You don’t know how drunk I had to get to endure that night.”

  Looking up at him wearily, amusement flickered in her eyes. The boy knew she loved him, loved him so much she would do anything for him. Groaning and shaking her head, she moaned, “What the hell? I’m in this up to my cute little butt. Tell you what, buy me dinner, then tell me what you want from me, and I’ll do it. But this time, it’s you scratch my back, and I’ll scratch yours. Soooo….my friend Carrie needs someone to cheer her up, she’s been unusually lonely and sad lately. You can scratch my back by taking her out to dinner and a movie, and giving her a little TLC. She needs to feel special.” she replied, and nearly laughed when he cringed.

  “You can’t possibly mean…that…that chick who looks like Sheneneh, from The Martin Lawrence show? The one whose eyes are so crossed you can never tell who she’s looking at? The woman who can probably lift five times her weight with one hand, while bitch-slapping me around the room with the other? Don’t you have any good-looking friends?” he whined, nearly causing her to laugh out loud again. “Or at the very least, ones who don’t have warts or a mustache? Or both?”

  Trying to give him a stern look, she was unable to pull it off. Slapping his arm playfully she giggled briefly, unable to help it. “Stop it! She’s a nice person! She has a wonderful personality, and she’s very smart. Looks aren’t everything, you know! If you want my help, you call her right now, while I’m watching you, mister! Ask her out on a date for tomorrow night.”

  Just think ‘crack the case!’ Granger Mortenson’s gonna’ pay me enough to buy that Vette, with enough left over to get Pops his bass boat… he thought. Glaring at her and looking as if he’d just eaten a dozen sour persimmons, he handed his cell phone to her and watched in morose silence as she dialed her friend’s number.

  Finished, she handed it back to him with an innocent, angelic smile.

  The faint ringing sounding like funeral bells to him, he raised the phone to his ear and waited, praying silently that she wouldn’t be home.

  “Hello?" a voice answered.

  No such luck, of course…. he thought miserably. “Well, hello there, beautiful!" he answered, amazed himself that he had actually sounded sincere.

  “Hi…” the voice replied cautiously, before asking, “Who is this?”

  “Shene…I mean, Carrie, it’s me, Raidon Bishop! Listen, sis was just telling me you might be free tomorrow evening. How about dinner or…something. Are you free?” Holding the phone several inches away from his ear at her squeals of excitement, he said loudly, “I’ll take that as a yes! Listen, I’ll call you later to set things up, I’ve got to run for now. Bye!"

  Flipping the phone shut, he glared at his sister. “There now, are you happy? And you know there’s no way I can back out of it, because you would hear about it from her. Just try to not feel too guilty when someone discovers my raped and battered body in her cellar, chained to a wall. With a pink collar around my neck, to boot, with the word BITCH spelled out in rhinestones.”

  “Just be nice. Well, come on, since you’re paying, we‘re going to Red Lobster!” she snickered.

  Chapter 9

  Jocelyn took several deep breaths as she stood nervously outside the private room Granger ha
d arranged for her daughter to be transferred to. She was grateful Cynne’ had managed to convince Cassandra to allow her to visit, but she still refused to see or even speak to Granger.

  Clutching the bag full of items she had purchased for her daughter in the gift shop, she opened the door and stepped inside, praying silently. Please, let me reach my child. Please help her to remember me. As the door shut behind her, she covered her mouth with her free hand to cover her joyous sob. Sitting on the bed was her daughter, sipping on a soda as a nurse checked her vitals.

  Cassandra looked at the woman, then titled her head, studying her. Something was pulling at her from deep within, something telling her she should know the woman. Perhaps it was because she and the woman had similar features, the same color eyes, and build.

  Sitting on the other side of the bed Cynne’ smiled, hoping to ease Jocelyn’s nervousness, and motioned for her to come closer. She waited until the nurse had left the room, then gently touched her friend’s shoulder, hoping to give her some encouragement and support. “Ka…. Cassandra, this is your mother, Jocelyn Ames.” she said in a soft voice.