Remember Me

by Rainwater, Priscilla Poole

  Shoveling a mouthful of the potatoes into his mouth, Buddy mumbled, “Damn good, my compliments to the chef.”

  He looks like a pig feeding at a trough…Brett thought as he watched the man eat, disgusted at his lack of table manners.

  Grabbing a dinner roll from a dish in the middle of the table, Buddy took a large gulp of wine, belched heartily, then froze as his face heated up suddenly. Feeling trickles of sweat beginning to run down his forehead, he put his wineglass down and loosened his tie.

  Studying him for a moment, Martina took a sip of her own wine, smirked, then turned to her cousin. “Brett, I found the most interesting dress shop today. The young lady creates one-of-a-kinds that are simply amazing! I’m talking, better than most of the designer stuff I’ve ever bought.”

  Now perspiring profusely, Buddy blinked several times as his vision began to blur, and he felt his face grow even hotter. With dawning horror, he began to feel numbness creeping through his entire body. Opening his mouth to plead for help, all he heard come out was a high-pitched wheeze.

  “Indeed? Did you buy something for yourself?” Brett asked Martina conversationally as he took a sip of his own wine.

  “Better than that! I made a deal with her to sell some of her stuff in my own shop. The clothing has an urban hip-hop elegance, it’s the kind of clothing that the younger crowd will love.” she replied with a sunny smile.

  Feeling like his heart was being squeezed in a vice, Buddy put both his numb hands over his chest as he felt his throat constrict, and suddenly found himself struggling to breathe.

  “Well good for you! Listen, the night is still young, would you like to take in a movie?” Brett asked her as he casually glanced at the private detective, who had somehow managed to stagger to his feet. He looks like a fish out of water, gasping for air… he thought.

  “Oh goodness, I’ll have to give you a rain check on that, sorry. I’m going to see Granger later, so I need to do some primping.” she giggled, playing with and then tossing her gorgeous red hair over her thin shoulders.

  Through a haze, Buddy noticed both of them looking at him as if studying the death throes of a dying insect, and his eyes grew even wider with horror as he finally realized what had happened, realized he would never leave the house alive.

  Looking back at Martina, Brett frowned and put his fork down. “Do you think that’s wise? The man is an animal! Why you want him is beyond me.”

  Lurching forward, Buddy grabbed weakly at the tablecloth, clutched it with one hand, then fell face forward.

  With lightning-like reflexes, both Martina and Brett lifted their wineglasses off the table, just as the tablecloth was yanked off, sending all the remaining dishes and cutlery crashing to the floor.

  “Brett, lay off Granger why don’t you?” Martina replied as she gave him her best whipped, puppy-dog look. “You have your little plaything, why shouldn’t I have mine?” she pouted.

  “Oh, alright, you‘ve got me there…” he grumbled, then looked down at the floor at the stricken man. “It seems our guest has fallen ill, darling.”

  “FALLEN ill." she giggled at the irony. “You’re so clever dear!"

  “Runs in the family, my sweet."

  Wiping her red lips and tossing the napkin down, she stood and approached the still-struggling man, watching with great interest as his body twitched and his chest heaved.

  With one last long, strangled breath, Buddy went limp, his bulging eyes glazed over, and bloody foam began trickling from his mouth and nose, onto the floor.

  Bending, she checked his pulse as she consulted her wristwatch. Looking up at Brett, she said, “Grammy’s secret recipe, works every time! But this time I added a little chemical I found in Mexico, one that speeds up the..uhhh…reaction.”

  “Is that so? Well, no matter how good something is, there’s always room for improvement.” he mused.

  “I do my best.” she purred. “Although I never took into consideration the mess the clumsy lout would make while doing the world a favor here. He ruined some of your best China.” she said as she angrily kicked several broken shards across the floor. “And look at that…stuff, coming out of his nose and mouth. Disgusting!”

  “So? You just fine-tune your new element in the recipe, that’s all.” he shrugged. Getting to his feet, he walked over and stood beside her, looking down at the corpse. “Grandmother’s mixtures are indeed amazing, they worked well with all four of her husbands. She taught you well.”

  Blushing and giggling, she nodded in agreement. Her grandmother had acquired her fortune from wealthy husbands who had become tiresome to her. She had disposed of each by poisoning, and had proudly passed her recipes down to her daughters and granddaughters. She had instructed each of them, When disposing of someone, you should always serve them a fine meal. After all, it’s the least you can do, as a good, hospitable Southern lady. Don’t forget, even horrible serial killers get a good last meal. She had then presented her with a cookbook compiled with great southern recipes, dishes that went well with the poisons. “Well, since I cooked, you should take out the trash.” she said as she nudged the body with her foot.

  “Sounds more than fair, that steak was delicious! Shame I didn’t get to finish it.”

  “I’ll cook you another one this weekend.” she replied absently, a thoughtful look on her face. Suddenly struck by an inspiration, she smiled broadly and snapped her fingers sharply. “Why don’t you bury him in the rose garden, the one near the guest cottage?" she said excitedly as she nudged the body again with the toe of her high heel shoes. “The tea roses are looking a bit puny, and he would make excellent fertilizer!”

  They both dissolved into laughter, sounding like naughty children.

  Chapter 20

  “We have to be extremely careful Doctor Parker doesn’t find out about our suspicions, there’s no telling how he’d react.” Raidon advised the three people sitting around the table.

  Malcolm, Jocelyn, and Cynne’ mumbled in agreement as they fidgeted with their coffee cups.

  Turning to face Cynne’, Raidon’s gaze lingered sensually as he asked, “Were you able to swipe a couple of her pills?"

  Giving him a saucy smile, she pulled a folded tissue that contained the pills out of her purse, then handed them to him. “I got a good look at the bottles, and there were no pharmacy labels. Instead, there were labels with his office address, her name and address, and a series of letters and numbers at the bottom that I memorized.”

  “Photographic memory?” he asked with a warm smile and a wink.

  “Something like that.” she replied as her gaze locked with his and she licked her lips subconsciously. “DEA4431967.”

  Scribbling the information down in a small notepad, he looked back up and mumbled, “That’s my girl."

  Feeling a pleasant tingle running up and down her spine, she uncharacteristically blushed and averted his gaze.

  “Do you believe Doctor Parker was the one who hurt, who beat, my daughter so viciously?” Jocelyn asked softly, clearly concerned about her child’s safety.

  The pain and fear he saw in the woman’s brown eyes bothered him, and he reached across the table to touch her hand reassuringly, although he had already made up his mind to be totally honest about the situation. “I don’t believe he was the one who actually attacked her. I believe he came into the picture at some point afterwards, maybe to do clean up. But to be honest, it does puzzle me that he seemingly went to such great lengths to hide her and not just leave her there to die, although we’re all thankful for that, of course. He’s still not to be taken lightly, however. I’m certainly not suggesting that he helped her out of the goodness of his heart, the man has a pretty shady past, from what I’ve learned thus far.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked apprehensively.

  “Well, first of all, let’s start with the name Karen Washington, the name Cassandra had been going under the past few years. Well, before Cassandra’s disappearance and her attack, there reall
y was a woman named Karen Washington who worked under Doctor Parker, and she just happened to up and disappear one day herself. The last person who ever saw her alive was, well, him.”

  Both Jocelyn and Cynne’s eyes grew wide with a mixture of shock and fear.

  Malcolm didn’t like any of this, even though he trusted Raidon’s ability, and he was more than likely right that Brett hadn’t been the one who had attacked Cassandra. All he knew for sure was that there was something very wrong with Brett Parker. From his combat experience, he had seen the look before in other men’s eyes, the look of a bloodthirsty killer.

  Looking at the handsome private detective, Cynne’ blurted, “I’m getting the feeling there’s something you’re not telling us.”

  Raidon looked at her in admiration, charmed by the fact that not only was she sharp, she was always straight and to the point.

  Watching the two of them eyeballing each another, Malcolm became slightly irritated. Nudging Raidon’s arm with his elbow, he demanded, “If you’ve got something else to say, spit it out man!”

  “Alright. Karen Washington, the REAL Karen Washington, worked as a research tech at a facility in Radford Virginia. The facility, at the time anyway, was developing and testing drugs for the Department of Defense, which will make digging up info on what exactly they were working on extremely frustrating, but luckily I have a few favors I may be able to call in on that. Anyway, guess who was the head of that research and development team?”

  “Jesus, that freak really gets around, doesn’t he?” Cynne’ muttered.

  Taking a sip of his coffee, Raidon nodded, and then continued. “There’s more. While working under him, Ms. Washington filed a formal complaint with the facility director, claiming Doctor Parker was not following safe testing protocols. I haven’t found out yet what he allegedly did wrong, it seems the records were conveniently purged, but you can bet I will. Well, just two days after filing the complaint, she disappeared. I also know he’s been tentatively linked to several other murders, there‘s simply never been any hard evidence of any kind found. Not enough to officially charge him, anyway.”

  “Oh my God.” Jocelyn moaned as she brought a trembling hand to her mouth, suddenly feeling sick to her stomach.

  Sliding her chair over, Cynne’ put one arm around the older woman’s shoulder and patted her hand.

  “When are you going to report all this to Granger?” Malcolm asked in a quiet voice.

  Leaning back in his chair wearily, Raidon crossed his muscular arms over his chest and blew out a frustrated breath. “I think we all know Granger will fly off the handle when and if he finds all of this out. The way I see it, we can ill afford to be so preoccupied with trying to prevent him from hunting the man down himself and killing him, that we lose precious time trying to find out exactly who was responsible for Cassandra’s vicious, near-deadly attack. Or what role Brett Parker played in all this." Pinning Cynne’ with his dark gaze again, he said, “I know this, if it was my woman that had happened to, I would want kill the bastard with my bare hands. And let‘s face it, that’s exactly what Granger will do.”

  “So you think we should just keep him in the dark for now?“ Malcolm asked with a troubled look.

  “That would be my advice." he replied. “I have to keep digging, sooner or later we’re going to find others who were involved in Cassandra’s attack, and her disappearance. As for Brett Parker, if we expose him too soon, without enough evidence to have him arrested, she will be in great danger, I think.”

  Nodding, Malcolm replied in a grave voice. “Myself, I’m not sure what to do here, there’s so much to consider. Granger, as Cassandra’s husband, not only has a right to know all this, but I think he needs to know. He has to think not only of her safety, but Regan‘s as well. Whoever was behind all this could very well use the boy to get at Cassandra. Also, we don’t know, yet, exactly what kind of drugs he’s been prescribing….I mean, giving to her. I think we should tell him. I’m reasonably sure I can keep him from busting the doctor’s head wide open.” he finished, although his last statement lacked conviction. He had been with Granger long enough to know that when the man got angry, he was like a raging bull. Shit, if we’re not careful, very very careful, this could turn into a bloodbath… he thought.

  Absorbing everything the man had said, Raidon nodded his head slowly. While he doubted any one of them could control Granger Mortensen if push came to shove, he knew that Malcolm was closer to the man than anyone in the world, other than Regan, and he trusted his judgment.

  Things are going to get worse before they get better.. A voice whispered in Jocelyn’s mind, filling her with dread. Breaking the uneasy silence in the room, she said, “We should get back, before Cassandra wonders where we are.”

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

  Entering the large suite, Granger locked the door behind him and went in search of what he needed.

  Finding the bottle in his overnight bag, he popped the top off, shook out four tablets, popped them in his mouth, then swallowed the Excedrin PM’s, hoping they would relieve the coiled pain that ran across his tense shoulders and up his neck. Running has hands over his face, he wiped away the sweat from his four-mile evening run. He had hoped jogging would help ease the tension and sexual frustration he was feeling, but no such luck. He felt like he was on an emotional roller coaster ride from hell, one moment hopes riding high, the next moment, falling. Cassandra’s emotions seemed to run from hot to cold. When he had kissed her and she had ran off to her room after his mother’s call, she had remained there, locked in, until Jocelyn and Cynne’ had returned. Only after a great deal of pleading from them had she came out. Afterwards, as they were eating the dinner Joyclyn had prepared, she had refused to even make eye contact with him. But thanks to Cynne’, she did converse with him for a bit before they all left.

  His head fell back and he pinched the bridge of his nose, then released a tired sigh. I feel like the Sword of Damocles hangs above my head. How many times did I swear I would be a better man, a better father, than my own father? Yes, he put that Sword over my head all those years, and I now know I did no better than him. All I did was take on his demons and add my own, and the woman I love almost died. And more than likely my mother had a part in her disappearance.. He thought.

  Going into the large bathroom, he removed his sweat-drenched workout clothes, turned the shower on, and stepped inside. Squeezing a blob of body wash onto a washcloth, he began soaping the hard planes of his well-defined body, wondering what Cassandra would think, or do, if she saw him right now. Would it trigger a memory, or desire? She used to love touching my body, before things went bad… he thought. Remembering the feel of her hands on his body and how he reacted to her nails running through his hair, he shivered underneath the hot stream of water.

  The hot water reminding him of a hot summer night the year before Cassandra had disappeared, he closed his eyes, and his thoughts, along with his hand, began to drift:

  They had been driving back to the estate one evening after attending a benefit, when a sudden thunderstorm had struck. Cassandra had always loved the smell of the rain soaking into the earth, and she had rolled her window down. Sticking one arm outside, she had released a pleasurable sigh as the rain soaked her arm.

  He had never been a spontaneous person, that had always been her, but when he had seen the peaceful, beautiful smile on her face, he had immediately pulled the car over, killed the engine, then turned to her excitedly, “Care to play in the rain?” he had asked suggestively.

  His suggestion had been rewarded by a sexy laugh as she kicked off the high heels she was wearing, threw her door open, and dashed out into the pouring rain.

  And right there, on the remote mountain road that led to their estate, they had made love in the rain, on the hood of the car. Neither caring that their expensive clothing was ruined, nor that someone would drive by and see them.

  When they had arrived home they looked a complete
mess as they ran into the mansion soaking wet, giggling, ignoring Grace’s rant as they dashed to their own wing. That night they had made love again, in front of their fireplace, as they listened to the rumbling thunder and still-falling rain. Afterwards, they had quietly discussed having more children, and possibly moving from the estate.

  The memories of the passion they had shared making him hard with excitement, he began stroking his long, throbbing flesh, feeling the fire build in his belly. Starting out slowly, he mentally pictured her on the hood of the car, looking wild, untamed, legs spread wide, waiting for him. The feel of her as he had slid inside her, how hot she had felt.

  The steaming spray of water intensifying and adding a touch of realism to his fantasy, his strokes became more urgent, and a moment later he groaned loudly as his pent up desire exploded from him. Breathing heavily, he opened his eyes and found he could hardly see, the steam from the shower had filled the entire room.