Forgotten Place

by LS Sygnet

  Johnny rose slowly. "You're right, Crevan. There is one thing I need to say."

  "Don't," I rasped. "Whatever it is, I don't want to hear it. I simply don't care."

  "Well I do care. I saved your life because I loved you, Helen. Above being one cop backing up another. Beyond that desire we have to serve and protect. I didn't want you to die because I loved you."

  The past tense echoed in my head, slammed into my heart.

  "God help me, I still do," he added softly.

  This time, when I drifted away, it was to the solitude of my bedroom. I closed the door behind me and let Crevan worry about cleaning up the mess left behind.

  Chapter 9

  The last thing I remembered was crying myself to sleep after a disastrous confrontation with Johnny. I woke in the dark, cold and disoriented. My shirt twisted around my body, bunched and uncomfortable. When I sat up, sharp pain shot down my left arm. I groaned and immediately guarded the tender limb with my right hand.

  Pain pill. Now.

  Beyond that, nothing registered. I had no concept of time, barely made sense of the fact that I needed to go from the bedroom to the cabinet in the kitchen where the prescription bottle of oxycontin waited to lure me into a perpetual state of numbness.

  I stumbled through the dark into the living room. A faint glow from the kitchen illuminated a path. Good. I left the gas fireplace burning. Chills rippled through muscle and bone and pulled the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck taut. There was an open bottle of merlot in the butler's pantry. That would do in a pinch, give a little magical assist and speed up the efficacy of the oxycontin. I detoured away from the kitchen down the hall and grabbed my stash of merlot.

  Blind to everything but the hypnotic throb of agony drumming from shoulder through every bone it touched, autopilot propelled me to the cabinet. I uncapped the bottle and shook out a handful of pills. Hey, I earned the anesthesia. I tossed them into my mouth and was about to tilt the wine bottle to my lips when a voice whispered through the darkness.

  "Wine with narcotics. Bad idea, Helen."

  The nerves wanted to scream in startlement, but the brain was too pissed off by the intrusion for an emotional response that showed how vulnerable I felt. Instead, it overrode the ability for voluntary movement.

  Light from the refrigerator spiked the darkness. Johnny unscrewed the cap from a bottle of water and held it in front of me. When I didn't move, he pried the wine bottle from my right hand. "You really didn't believe I could leave things like that, did you?"

  Bitter words joined the repugnant taste of melting narcotics in my mouth. "Why not? You had no problem leaving things the way they were in October."

  "You wanted me to leave, kicked me out as I recall. Remember?"

  "Of course I remember." I yanked the water bottle from his hand and sent a spray of liquid sloshing to the floor. "What I find impossible to fathom is why all of a sudden you have a problem with how we left things."

  Johnny pulled off a wad of paper towels from the spindle on the counter and mopped up the mess on the floor. "Did you swallow your medication?"

  "Yes," snarled. "I don't need a nurse maid."

  He didn't argue vocally, but I felt the disagreement in his posture. Johnny yanked the freezer door open and pulled out the container of strawberry soft serve that Crevan brought for dinner. A spoon from the drawer was hastily shoved into the thick dessert. He held it out to me.

  "I'm not hungry."

  "You're not taking pain pills without eating something and so help me, Helen, if I have to sit on you and force feed you, I'll do it. Now eat."

  My chest heaved with indignity, anger at being ordered around in my own home. Hell, if I had the revolver handy, it would be mighty tempting to let history repeat itself.

  "Don't even think about it," he warned.

  "I didn't say a word."

  "I know you, Helen. I heard you thinking it. You don't want to kill me for putting my foot down and making sure you don't starve to death. Now you can either stand here and eat, or you can go sit at the table, but by God, shovel that ice cream into your mouth –"

  "Yeah, yeah," New Yorker arrived in a huff. "You'll sit on me and force feed me until I explode. I got it, Orion." Stubbornness propelled me to the sofa where I curled up in my favorite corner. I spooned a tiny dab of ice cream between my lips.

  Firelight cast eerie shadows into the dark room. I squinted at the clock on the wall to no avail. "What time is it?"

  "Eleven."

  "And you've been hanging out since nine, waiting for me to come out of my room?"

  "Yes." He stared at my empty spoon.

  Chagrined but not up for another battle, I took another bite. Honestly, strawberry was my favorite, though I couldn't fathom how Crevan could've known it. Three half teaspoons later, I asked, "Did anybody call while I was asleep?"

  "Ned."

  "Do I rate more than a single word response in this conversation?"

  Johnny perched on the coffee table in front of the sofa and crossed his arms.

  "Was it perhaps my phone number that Ned called?"

  "Yes."

  "Goddammit, Orion! What did he say?"

  "You're not eating."

  "I'll have to remember to thank him for his concern but I believe he's stating the obvious."

  "You know what I meant."

  His crude psychology came into quick focus. Eat and I can get all the information I want. I gouged a huge bite out of the container and stuffed in my mouth. "Happy now?" I mumbled.

  "Getting there."

  Sharp pain stabbed through one eye. "Ow."

  "You might want to try human sized bites. Brain freeze is a bitch."

  "I hate you," I rasped. Ready, aim, fire, kill shot.

  Orion sucked the corner of his lower lip between his teeth and gnawed, but didn't respond.

  "Let me guess. Mission accomplished," I sneered. "Fine, you made your point. Tell me what Ned said or I'll call him back right now."

  "Good luck finding a phone. Or your car keys. Or the house keys to open the deadbolts."

  "You bastard. This is kidnapping."

  "What's another felony on top of what I've already done for you, Doc? Look at it this way. At least you'll live to see me prosecuted."

  The world faded away until all I could see was that unreadable mask Johnny wore. "You're bluffing. Your career means too much to you –"

  "I already blew my cover, probably shot my entire investigation into Datello's criminal activities straight to hell. What've I got to lose?"

  I played along for the moment. "Not much apparently. It seems you've already lost your mind if you're serious about locking me up in my own home and cutting me off from the world."

  "You're the one who cut yourself off from the world. The ice cream is melting, and Ned sounded like he really wanted you to know what he had to say. I'd suggest you get busy so I can tell you what happened after they left."

  There's stubbornness, and then there's stupidity. Innate curiosity was my Achilles heel. Slowly, I worked on the ice cream until about two cups were consumed and I felt like another bite would make me ill. Johnny pried the container out of my hand and returned it to the freezer.

  While he was gone, my eyes, now accustomed to the semidarkness, scanned the room. The kitchen phone was indeed gone. The bastard wasn't kidding. If I weren't so damned weak, I could throw him through the wall of windows in the family room and make my great escape.

  "You look like you're plotting something, Doc."

  "Don't call me that."

  "Would you like to hear what Ned had to say?"

  I crossed my bony arms over my nearly concave chest and glared. The shiver picked a bad moment to appear and killed the effect unfortunately. Johnny reached over and tugged the afghan off the back of the sofa and wrapped it around my shoulders.

  "Yes? No? Don't give a damn about Journey Ireland or catching Datello anymore?"

  "What did he say?"

  "One o
f the nurses forgot a stethoscope or some such nonsense in one of the patients rooms. She walked in on a man dressed head to toe in black about to inject something into Journey's IV tubing. She startled the guy, and he threw her out of the way and ran off."

  "Is Journey all right?"

  "Ned said they had to sedate her. Apparently your new best friend was pretty torn up over seeing a girl with no voice screaming her head off."

  I ignored his jealousy. "I hope Shelly ordered a police guard at the door."

  "Yep, for the duration of her stay. Detective Mackenzie is playing babysitter at her bedside for the night. Crevan and I are tracking down Samantha Wine tomorrow morning after I bring you home from physical therapy."

  "You really need to butt out of my life."

  "Absolutely. Just as soon as I'm sure you're not on the verge of death. Glad this Dr. Chesney put you on Prozac today. I may have to send him a thank you or something. I wonder if he likes scotch."

  "I don't need you."

  "Therapy is what, at six-thirty?" His hands clapped loudly against the tops of his thighs. "It's pushing midnight now. You should probably go back to bed. If I suggest that you sleep in your clothes, it would probably assure that you don't, so by all means, Doc, as you were."

  "You high handed son of a bitch."

  "Either you go back to bed now, or I'll put you there. I doubt you'd like the experience."

  I really had no choice but to retaliate with any means at my disposal. Having him hanging out while I slowly regained some strength was a fate worse than death, worse than life in prison. "I never cared much for the experience the last time you took me to bed. Why should anything change now?"

  That one hit the mark. His shoulders sagged. "Well then, you really are one hell of a liar, Helen. But you can relax. I can't think of a single man alive that would find you attractive in your current condition."

  "Zack," I said.

  "Excuse me?"

  "You can't think of a single man alive that would find me attractive in my current condition. Zack does. He's my date Saturday night."

  "Well we'll have to make sure you have time to shop for something that won't emphasize the starvation, since none of your current wardrobe fits the bill. Can't have you disappointing your latest conquest, can we?"

  It occurred to me that we'd sit there trading barbs all night. All it would accomplish was more frustration for me and more determination from Orion.

  "I'll go back to bed now, but not because you say so. You're right about one thing. I need to get my strength back. The sooner I do, the sooner I can leave this place and never look back."

  "Pleasant dreams, Doc."

  I stomped back to the bedroom and slammed the door.

  Prozac.

  Maybe it was another weird dream like the ice cream sundae chasing me around the house. Now it was Johnny chasing me around with a quart of ice cream instead.

  No such luck. I woke to the aroma of brewing coffee and toast. The tea kettle whistled loudly before I got through the kitchen door.

  "Good, you're up. I was about ready to wake you." Johnny poured boiling water over a teabag. "One egg, scrambled, toast and a cup of tea. I'd suggest you eat without a fight this morning. Amy is expecting you to arrive on time."

  Time for a different tactic. "This really isn't necessary, Johnny." I pulled the bottle of Prozac out of the cabinet and made a show of popping the prescribed pill.

  He didn't respond, simply slid a plate across the breakfast bar and poured himself a cup of coffee. I wasn't sure how much more of his presence I could endure. In the battle of wills, he had an unfair advantage. Johnny didn't feel the cold hand of death beguiling him into giving up, and I did.

  I perched on the edge of the stool at the bar and dug into breakfast with mechanical determination. Cooperate and he'll go away. It seemed like the easiest course of action.

  "I called Zack this morning."

  Wary eyes rose from the perfectly scrambled eggs. "Why?"

  "We need the details on what David might've been doing that prompted the probe into Datello's activities. Did you forget already?"

  "No. I figured you might've..."

  "What, cancelled your date Saturday night? Not on your life, Doc. It'll do you some good to get out of the house and socialize with people for an evening. What do you wanna bet we can put five pounds on just by regular meals between now and Saturday?"

  "Whatever it takes," I muttered.

  Johnny braced his arms on the counter across from me. "I've been thinking about this thing. Actually, I spent most of the night using the computer in your office digging into some background on Linder. He doesn't strike me as courageous enough to stroll into the hospital and try to kill Journey again."

  Unbelievable. "Oh yeah? Why is that?"

  "I started thinking about the criminal record Ned mentioned last night, particularly the arrests for solicitation, so I decided to get some more information. In both cases, the guy was caught seeking some rather kinky sex favors from undercover officers."

  "And this makes him a coward?"

  "Let's just say he appreciates the submissive role in certain situations. I believe there is a specific term for his fetish, if I understand that DSM book of yours correctly. It's called infantilism, and it's classified as a part of para... para..."

  "Paraphilia," I said. "I'm familiar with the term."

  His grin drew my attention. Even though Orion claimed that he spent the night researching, the dullness in his eyes was gone, replaced by the familiar twinkling blue. The beard was trimmed down to a neat goatee again. His hair was still long enough to cover half his ears, but the suit was crisp and suspiciously similar to one that had been hanging in the smaller walk in closet since I threw him out of my life in October.

  "You tell me. Does a guy that likes to wear diapers and suck a pacifier before the girl he hires to play mommy flogs him sound like somebody brazen enough to walk into the busiest hospital in the city and try to kill somebody half an hour after visiting hours ended?"

  "Probably not. Nice visual though. I think you killed whatever appetite I had."

  One eyebrow twitched.

  "Oh for heaven's sake. I'm eating," I shoveled another bite of egg into my mouth. "So if you don't think Linder is they guy, I'd imagine that's the excuse you've come up with for me to stay home instead of talking to him this afternoon."

  "On the contrary. I absolutely think you should settle the question as soon as possible. Ned's got access to my file on Datello. He's been going over the names of business associates all night too. If there's a connection to Danny, he'll find it before two."

  "What makes you think I won't rat you out the second I get away from you?"

  Johnny shrugged. "Do what you gotta do, Doc. I'll do what I think is right and necessary. I guess either we'll have a meeting of the minds or we won't."

  "You can't keep me locked up forever."

  "I didn't think I'd need to. It hardly counts as keeping you locked up when you're going to therapy this morning and interviewing a suspect with Ned this afternoon."

  "Yet there is no freedom to come and go as I please."

  "Again, it's up to you how fast this happens. Just know that I don't make the same mistake twice. You had your shot at recuperating in your own way and in your own time, but you blew it. Now we do this my way."

  I started rearranging rapidly cooling food on my plate.

  "I'm not blind, Doc. Stop being childish and finish eating."

  I echoed the sentiment from last night. "I really despise you, Orion."

  "I know."

  After another stolen glance, and I accepted my temporary loss of freedom. At least for the time being. Somebody was bound to take pity on my situation and intervene before all good sense fled and I resorted to drastic measures again.

  All was eaten save for the crust of bread around the slice of toast. Johnny let it pass – at least this time. I doubted he'd find reason to accept future attempts at defying his will.
Like he said, resistance would only prolong the current situation.

  Instead of arguing more, I took a sullen stroll back to my room, showered and dressed comfortably for physical therapy. Johnny was waiting for me at the door to the garage. "Ready?"

  It felt like a firing squad awaited. "I forgot to take a pill."

  "You had your Prozac."

  "I meant a pain pill."

  "Hmm. Wait here. I'll get one for you."

  "I can get my own damn pills."

  "Yeah, and I can read."

  "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I perched one fist on my hip.

  "You had that prescription filled less than a week ago and it's almost half gone. Hitting the happy pills a little hard, aren't you? If they aren't helping your pain, maybe we should have a conversation with this surgeon of yours about trying something that lasts longer and works better."

  "Something stronger?"

  "Don't look so hopeful, Doc. I was thinking less addictive and more effective. Given your present state of neglect, I'm not sure how safe it is for you to take a drug that could so easily kill you."

  "I'm not suicidal. Jesus."

  For the first time since his invasion, Johnny touched me. His hands spanned my waist easily, fingers overlapping in the back. "Aren't you?"

  "That's hardly a fair indicator. You've got mammoth hands."

  "Mammoths didn't have hands, and if you'd like, I'd be happy to pull up that baggy sweatshirt and take a look at your protruding ribs. Don't tell me that you aren't suicidal. Now behave yourself and let me get the damn pill so you aren't late for therapy. Go wait in the Expedition. I'll be out in a second."

  I glanced at the keypad on the garage door.

  "Don't even think about it, Doc. You couldn't run fast or far enough, and if you try, I'll have no choice but to rip the wires out of that box so it doesn't happen again. Stop fighting me every step of the way and this will really be done before you know it."

  I snorted. "Really done. As in you leave me alone and I never have to see you again?"

  "Yes."

  I looked up sharply. "You're lying."