Chuckling, he replied, “That I do. This here is my home away from home, I have more than one, matter of fact. This facility, and the one I maintain in Montreal, are ran by a very competent protégé' of mine.” Releasing her hand, he took his seat behind the large desk.
Cassandra liked him immediately. His warm, open smile, gave her a sense of comfort unlike any other doctor she had ever been treated by, including Brett Parker, and the thought filled her with vague feelings of guilt yet again.
Opening a desk drawer, the doctor withdrew the medical file on her that Brett Parker had reluctantly sent to him. Opening it, he read for a moment, then picked up the chart his own nurse had filled out, studied it for a moment, then leaned back and looked at the couple with a puzzled expression on his kind features. From what his own nurse had noted in the examination room, Cassandra had stated Dr. Parker had had her on some type of medication, but there was no mention of it in the records he sent. He wasn't very surprised however. When he had spoken to the man on the phone, requesting that Cassandra's medical records be sent to him, the man had came off as rude, paranoid, belligerent, and condescending.
“Doctor, do you really think you can help restore her memory?” Granger asked in a hopeful voice.
Tired from his long flight, he let out a long, audible breath, then leaned forward and rested both forearms on the desk. “Mr. Mortensen, Granger, I’m not embarrassed to say I've enjoyed an extremely high success rate in that endeavor. However, you must understand up front that the process doesn't, or won't, happen overnight. There are many tests we have to run first, only then can we plan a course of treatment. This isn't like treating a dozen different people who all have the flu. In cases such as that, each individual will almost always be given the identical treatment. But we're talking about the human mind here, and every individual is different.”
“I understand.” he replied.
Turning to face Cassandra, the he continued. “I'd like to admit you to the Dominion Behavioral Hospital, it's about six hours from here. There you would undergo several physical exams over the course of a week, and after that, we begin the recovery process.”
An unreasonable panic suddenly welling up within her, she shook her head back and forth vigorously. Although she didn't understand her own sudden apprehension at the thought of being in a psychiatric hospital, she knew there was no way she was going. “No, I can't, I won't go to a place like that.”
“Cassandra, the doctor knows best, it's his specialty. If this is the only way you can recover your memory, honey, I'd suggest you follow his advice.” Granger said as his blue eyes bored into hers.
Crossing her arms under her full breasts, she shook her head in a stubborn, childlike manner, showing no signs of relenting. “No way. Doctor, either you treat me outpatient, or not at all. Brett never felt the need to hospitalize me.”
Snorting derisively, Granger glared at her in spite of his best efforts not to, then turned and faced the doctor. “Do you want to know what Brett Parker's treatment…I refuse to call him doctor…do you know what his treatment has accomplished in the last three years? Jack shit, that's what. But for some reason, known only to her and God, she seems to think he's some kind of miracle worker.” he finished as he turned to glare at his stubborn wife again.
Clearing his throat tactfully in order to head off an argument between the two, Doctor Zachrich looked at her and replied, “Alright, if that would make you more comfortable, fine, we could see how an outpatient approach works. But it would at least require daily visits.”
Calming down somewhat, she considered the proposal for a moment, then replied, “Ok, but I can only come in once a day, late in the afternoons. I work at an orphanage, and my classes are all in the morning.”
Biting his lip to keep from speaking and making things worse, Granger drummed his fingers on his leg instead. He was growing impatient with her, she seemed to fight him, and everyone else but Brett Parker, at every turn.
As an expert in human behavior, Doctor Zachrich could easily see Granger was upset, and quickly steered the conversation in another direction. “Cassandra, I'm going to have the nurse take you down for an MRI right now, and we'll see about getting you checked in here. Outpatient, of course.”
“Alright.” she replied, obviously relieved that there had been no confrontation with her husband.
Punching a button on his intercom, the doctor summoned the nurse, then looked at Granger. “Mr. Mortensen, would you remain here for a few moments, please? There's some additional information I'll be needing.”
“Anything you need.” he replied, just as the nurse stepped inside.
“Mrs. Mortensen, this way please.” the nurse gestured with one hand and smiled.
“Nurse, would you please close the door behind you when you leave?” the doctor asked.
“Yes doctor.” she replied, and a moment later, both her and Cassandra were gone.
Walking around the desk, the doctor sat down beside Granger, in the same chair Cassandra had occupied only moments earlier. Looking him square in the eye, he spoke in a low, confidential tone. “Listen, that additional information I said I needed was just a ruse. May I speak freely?”
“Sure, say whatever’s your mind, doc.”
“This is just between you and I, agreed?”
“You have my word.” Granger replied.
“Alright. To be completely honest, some of my colleagues would consider this highly unprofessional. Mr. Mortensen, police men and women aren't the only professional community who can and will close ranks to protect one of their own. Believe me, the medical community does it as well. Most of the time, anyway. But there are exceptions to every rule.”
“You're...you're referring to Brett Parker, aren't you?” he asked with wonder, hope beginning to surge within him.
“Well, after examining the records he sent me, he had no choice to send them, by the way, it's required by law, I strongly feel that the methods he used to treat you wife were not only incompetent, but criminally negligent. And another thing struck me as odd too, before taking on your wife as a patient, doctor Parker was very highly regarded in his particular field. Still is, by the way. I called in a few favors and did some discreet checking, and all of his other current patients are actually doing pretty well. Everyone but your wife.”
“So you're suggesting....” Granger stammered, his voice trailing off, then rose to his feet and began pacing. “I knew, I knew it, I KNEW it.” he muttered angrily. “The bastard doesn't WANT her to get better.”
“Well, it certainly appears that way. He ran no neurological tests to assess the possibility or extent of brain injury, and it seems that for the entire three years he did absolutely nothing that would help her recover her memory. Oh, he did a fine job pencil-whipping it, but I'm the foremost expert in this particular field, and none of what he did could have helped her in the slightest. And he's smart enough, educated enough, to know that himself. And there's the matter of this mystery medication he had your wife on, none of that was annotated in her records. I understand that any day now the test results on the medication he gave her will come back, your aide, Malcolm, told me that. I'll be weaning her off of it, but gradually. Taking a patient off any type of medication cold turkey can be dangerous at times, especially if we don't know the chemical compounds.”
Stopping in his tracks for a moment, Granger looked at him gravely. “I don't trust the man myself, never have, never will. I know in my gut that he somehow played a role in her disappearance. He didn't even report her attack to the police, and went out of his way to hide it. I believe he's always wanted to have more than just a professional relationship with my wife.”
Doctor Zackrich's lips thinned with anger. “If that's true, then that alone puts him on my shit list. But listen Mr. Mortensen, in order for the treatment to be effective, I'll have to ask that you do your best to support your wife in any way you can, and for the short term, that means including reigning in your negative comments about D
octor Parker. She obviously still trusts him, and we'll have to earn her trust ourselves, in time.”
“Well, if you're sure about this.” he replied doubtfully.
“You have to understand, for three years he's more or less controlled her life, even her very thoughts, about who she is, or was. She depends on him. It seems to me she's developed a co-dependency on him, I've seen it happen before. He's the doctor, and she honestly believes he has her best interests at heart. She more than likely also feels he's been sheltering her from whoever attacked her. Don't forget, after the attack took place, when she awoke from unconsciousness, his face was the first she saw. He was there to comfort her when she was at perhaps her most vulnerable point in life. I know you don't like hearing this, no one in your position would, but believe me, it's going to take some time, and substantial proof, for her to be convinced he's never had her best interests at heart.”
Grinding his teeth at the mere thought of what could have been going on between Cassandra and Brett, he muttered, “Bastard!”
“Granger, can you tell me a little more about your past? With your wife, I mean?” he asked in a soothing voice.
Returning to his seat, Granger sighed and began telling him everything he wanted to know.
*********************************************************
“Chief, the package you requested to be sent to the inn arrived. I put it in your room, would you like to go there before we take Mrs. Mortensen to her apartment?” Malcolm asked over his shoulder from the front passenger seat.
“Yes, that's fine.” Granger replied, then turned to face his wife. “Listen, there's a wonderful restaurant at the Flagstone Inn and Resort, would you like to have lunch there?”
Cassandra had heard about the restaurant, named The Magnolia, The Flagstone Inn had been featured in 'Southern Living' magazine, and several television cooking shows had been taped there. She and Cynne' had discussed going for there this year for a special Christmas dinner, so naturally she was excited, and couldn't wait to tell Cynne' what the place was like. Her excitement subsided a bit when she glanced down and was reminded of what she was wearing, she was hardly dressed for such an upscale restaurant. “Uhh, I don't think I'll meet the dress code.” she mumbled, clearly disappointed.
Chuckling, he replied, “Of course you don't remember this, yet, but we had this exact same conversation, when we first met. Cassandra, you're the wife of Granger Mortensen, and if you wanted to walk in there in that ratty pink house robe you love so much, they'll still tell you how nice you look, and give you the best seat in the place.”
Rolling her eyes, she allowed herself a small smile. “You, Granger, are a snob.”
Shrugging his shoulders, he didn't even attempt to deny it, and instead, laced his hand through hers. He had been wanting to touch her all day, and he wanted her to be comfortable with intimacy again.
********************************************************
Arriving at the Inn, she couldn't help but look around, gawking like a country bumpkin on her first trip to the big city. The place was absolutely breathtaking. Still holding her hand, he led her through the beautiful lobby. She had read in the local lifestyle page in the newspaper that the chandeliers hanging in the lobby were the original ones from when the place was first built in the early 1920's. The entire building, in fact, had been renovated after changing hands several times throughout the decades, it had been ran down almost to a state of disrepair. The marble floors in the lobby were covered with floral rugs, and adorning the walls were elaborate tapestries and ornate mirrors. The sitting areas were tastefully decorated with antique furniture, and the center piece of it all was a huge fireplace.
“I hope you like it here. There's a spa if you would like that, and from what the young hostess told me the other day, they have a wonderful boutique, if you’d like to do some shopping.”
She looked at him like he had lost his mind, knowing full well she couldn't afford anything for sale in a place such as this.
“Ahhh, Mr. Mortensen, welcome back to the Magnolia!” a young, lovely, bubbly blond greeted him.
As only another woman could, Cassandra instantly picked up the predatory gleam in the woman's eyes.
Nodding at the woman absently and giving her a perfunctory smile, Granger looked at Cassandra and favored her with the genuine article. “Thank you, could you provide a nice table for me and my lovely wife?”
A cool look passed quickly over the young woman's face, and was replaced instantly by what Cassandra knew was a phony million-dollar smile. “Certainly sir, follow me.” she replied, never once gracing Cassandra with so much as a glance. She led them to an area that looked like a botanical garden encased in a glass enclosure, and the room was filled with the most exotic flowers Cassandra had ever seen. “Your waiter will be with you momentarily." the hostess said somewhat stiffly, then hurried off.
Pulling a chair out for her in a chivalrous manner, Granger waited until Cassandra was seated, then sat down on the opposite side of the table, so he could maintain eye contact with her.
Looking around the beautiful room, she suddenly frowned and pointed. “Granger, why is Malcolm sitting over there alone? We could ask for a bigger table, and have him join us.” she said, still pointing in his direction.
“He wanted to give us some privacy, he told me earlier. You don't really think I would deliberately snub him, do you? That man has been my right arm and confidant' for years. Besides, if he was in an ornery mood, he would be over here right now, pestering us, trust me.” he laughed.
*********************************************************
Martina couldn't believe it when she spotted Granger walking in with Cassandra, holding her hand, and a jealous rage burned deep within her when he released her hand and wrapped his arm possessively around the woman's waist. Eyes burning with hatred, she watched as the couple followed the hostess. He walked right by me, and didn't give me a second glance. She'll pay for making him hurt me like this.... she vowed silently.
“That the little sugar you want me to take care of?” the man seated at the table with her asked. Martina had supplied him earlier with a recent photo of Cassandra (one she had lifted from Brett's photo album) and he had noticed the look of anger on the red head's face when the couple had walked in.
Turning to face Zeke McCabe, she was silent for a moment. McCabe was a former State Trooper, and had been doing her family's dirty work for years. Although in appearance he looked to be a polished professional, she knew that he was a hardened criminal to the core. Looking into the man's green eyes, she saw the familiar, blood-thirsty look. “Just her, not Granger.” she finally answered. “He's is not to be touched, under any circumstances, understand? And I'll pay you a handsome bonus if you record her death. A very slow and painful one, of course.” she hissed softly, then looked around furtively.
Zeke took one final look at the couple, and the huge black man trailing behind them. While he realized that killing such a powerful man's wife could get himself killed, he thrived on danger, living life on the edge. And his love for money, of course. Shaking down drug dealers was what had gotten him fired as a police officer. “100 K for the kill, and ten for the video footage, up front. Call me when you get the cash.” he said as he gulped down the remainder of his Heineken, then stood and left.
Wiping her red lips with her napkin, Martina tossed it down on the table angrily, still watching Granger and Cassandra. Her eyes narrowed and her blood boiled as she watched the bitch say something apparently witty that had Granger laughing out loud.
Balling her fists at her side, she stood and began making her way towards them. As she slowly approached, she heard Granger speak as he lifted his fork towards her mouth and teased her.
“Oh come on, try some of my steak. Now this is a REAL meal, not that bird food you eat.” he taunted.
Giggling, Cassandra shook her head and wrinkled her nose. “Ewww, gross! That meat isn't even warmed, it's raw! I like my food cooke
d, burned to a crisp, in fact. You're gonna' catch some nasty mad cow disease!”
“ Come on....please, try it...for me?” he pouted, and Martina's vision swam as the little tramp licked her full lips, then leaned forward to sample the morsel. Why can't it be him treating ME like that? How can he be so oblivious, so callous, about my feelings for him? She wondered, feeling a yearning like she had never felt before. Glancing quickly in the direction of Malcolm's table, she saw he had spotted her, but didn't care. No matter what he thinks of me, very soon I'll be Granger's wife, and I'll make that bastard beg for his job..... She thought.
Squaring her shoulders confidently, she moved in for the kill, her dark green eyes glittering dangerously. “ Oh my goodness, Cassandra! What a surprise!” she called as she took the last few steps to the table, then stopped, glaring at her nemesis.
*****************************************
Granger shot to his feet, giving Martina a cold look that would have made anyone else back off immediately.
Remember Me Page 26
