To Love, Honor, and Perish

by Christy Barritt

  He stood and walked over to a ten-gallon aquarium on his shelf. He picked up a container of food and dropped some flakes into the water. The fish scrambled to the top of the water to eat. When he was done, he glanced back over at me.

  “I was upset because one frivolous lawsuit like this can ruin a company, whether it be destroying the reputation of the business or causing financial ruin from overbearing legal fees. That money could be used to help starving people across the globe—or even here in our own backyard. Juliette wasn’t listening when I tried to talk to her about it, so I thought I’d talk to her lawyer. It wasn’t a smart move. I realize that in retrospect. But I was feeling desperate.”

  “Desperate enough to kill?”

  His jaw hardened. “I’m not a killer. I like to help people. Every purchase that someone makes from us—”

  “Helps to build a well for needy people across the globe.” I nodded. “Yeah, I saw your website.”

  “I’m doing important work. Work that’s bigger than myself. I didn’t want one angry employee to ruin all of that.”

  “Then why did you fire Juliette?” Finally, I had a name. A first name, at least. “You have something against Christians?”

  “Against Christians? No, I am a Christian. You can check any survey I’ve ever filled out. You’ll see that’s what I’ve marked. But it’s one thing to be a Christian, and it’s another thing to go over the top with that on the job.”

  “How did Juliette go over the top with it?”

  He sighed again and leaned against his desk. “It’s one thing to talk about God to your coworkers. It’s an entirely different thing to talk about God with our clients. There’s a line, and she crossed it. I gave her plenty of warnings, and she didn’t care. She wanted to do what she wanted to do. When I fired her, she threatened to sue. I got notice that she was going to take me to court a couple weeks later.”

  “That’s when you started feeling desperate?”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “Now you’re playing with my words. I’m passionate about my company, Gabby. I fight for things I believe in, and I believe in helping others. I don’t want to put those things in jeopardy.”

  “How far would you go in that quest? That’s the question.”

  He sighed slowly again, grimness settling on his features. “If Juliette was a Christian, as she claimed to be, then she should have been respectful of the boundaries I placed on her here at work. She should have tried to work things out with me instead of filing a lawsuit. Look it up in the Bible. I think you’ll see that God’s Word agrees with me.”

  “I’ll look that up. But, in the meantime, where were you last Monday morning?”

  His face darkened. “I was out doing errands.”

  “If you’re innocent, then you won’t mind me asking where?”

  He crossed his arms, that teasing grin returning. “You’ll just have to take my word that I was nowhere near that law practice.”

  “I don’t take anyone’s word.”

  He stared at me. “Then you’re a smart woman.”

  ***

  I knew something was wrong when I arrived at the hospital and found Riley’s parents both in the waiting room instead of with him. My suspicions were confirmed when they gave each other a nervous glance as I walked into the dimly lit room. Riley’s father stood and nodded my way.

  “Gabby,” he mumbled.

  I didn’t waste any time. “What’s wrong? What happened? How’s Riley?”

  They exchanged a glance again. “We need to talk to you, Gabby,” Riley’s mom started.

  “Okay.” Dread—impending doom was more like it—rose in my stomach.

  “Maybe you should sit,” Riley’s dad started.

  I dropped into the chair behind me. Riley must have taken a turn for the worse. That was the only conclusion I could come to.

  Riley’s dad sat across from me. He rubbed his hands against the top of his khaki pants before leaning toward me. “Riley’s been in a medically induced coma for a week now. He’s begun to stabilize, though ever so slightly.”

  Stabilize? He still wasn’t speaking or reacting or talking. Machines were still keeping him alive. I tried to approach the subject with decorum, though. “He hasn’t gotten worse, so I suppose that’s positive.”

  “Of course he has a long way to go. But the swelling is starting to go down around his brain,” Evelyn added.

  “Okay . . .” Anxiety pinched my spine. Where was this going?

  “Riley gave us durable power of attorney, Gabby,” Ron continued.

  “What’s that have to do with anything right now? We all want the same thing. We all want Riley to recover.”

  Evelyn nodded. “Exactly.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “As soon as we’re able, we’d like to have Riley transferred to a hospital up in D.C., closer to where we live.”

  I forced myself to remain seated and to stay calm. “Why would you do that? I’m here.”

  “We’re going to have to make some calls in terms of his health and what doctors can and can’t do,” Mr. Thomas said. “If Riley were in a hospital closer to us, we’d feel more comfortable.”

  “So you can get back to work and Riley won’t be an inconvenience to you?” Indignation laced my voice.

  “It’s not like that, Gabby,” Ron started. “It’s just that he could be in the hospital for months. It’s not realistic to think that we can stay here that long.”

  “You don’t need to. I can take care of him. I’m his fiancée.” My emotions felt so strong that I could almost feel them materialize inside of me, as if they were a physical force.

  “But we’re the ones authorized to call the shots,” Ron said quietly.

  I swallowed, my throat burning as I tried to tamp down my feelings. “Are you sure?”

  They glanced at each other. Finally, Mr. Thomas spoke. “We don’t have the paperwork, Gabby, to be honest with you. But Riley told us . . .”

  I stood up. “I beg you. Please don’t move him. He’s my fiancé. We’re supposed to be married right now.”

  “Gabby, the doctor talked to us today,” Ron started. His features looked strained, and he appeared to be aging with every breath.

  I dropped back into my seat. “Okay.”

  “He’s uncertain about the prognosis, at this point,” he continued.

  “With every day that goes past, it’s a good sign, right?”

  They glanced at each other again. “The swelling isn’t going down as quickly as they’d like, nor is Riley as responsive as they want him to be.”

  “He had a traumatic brain injury. It takes time.” Even I knew that.

  “None of us knows what Riley will be like whenever he comes out of this,” Evelyn said. “He could be like a different person—personality wise, physically, intellectually. We don’t know.”

  “I know that. I’m prepared to help him however I can.”

  “That’s just it, Gabby. We have the time, the resources to really be there for him,” Evelyn started. “That’s why we think it’s a good idea to move him up north as soon as we can. The hospital is one of the best in the country for traumatic brain injuries. Plus, there’s a doctor there who’s been doing some innovative things.”

  Innovative sounded like another word for experimental to me. “Define ‘innovative.’”

  “It’s new,” Ron said.

  “New? New as in ‘trial’? New as in ‘we don’t know what the outcome is’? New as in ‘let’s use Riley for a lab rat’?” The words came out harsher than I intended. But it needed to be said.

  “It’s not like that. The doctor goes to our church—” Evelyn started.

  “Just because he goes to church with you doesn’t mean he’s not a whack job.” I needed to keep my words more in check. I knew I did. But my emotions were bubbling up to the surface. This was my fiancé!

  “Maybe you just need some time to sleep on this, Gabby,” Ron started. “You’ve been through a lot. We all have.”

&nbs
p; I shook my head, not ready to back down yet. “What’s this doctor’s name?” I needed to do my own research here.

  “Dr. Stephen Moreno,” Ron responded.

  “What kind of innovative therapy is he trying?”

  “He combines hypothermia with electric impulses—”

  I raised my hand, feeling a headache coming on. All I could see was Riley being electrocuted. “On second thought, don’t tell me right now. I can’t handle anymore. My brain is on overload.” I squeezed the skin between my eyes, my head suddenly pounding. His parents wanted to take Riley away from me. “Don’t I have any say in this?” My voice broke.

  Riley’s dad squeezed my arm, but I pulled away. The man felt like a traitor. Not like that father I never had. That’s what I’d secretly hoped Riley’s family might be. But no—they were just as selfish as my own family had been.

  “We’re not doing anything right now,” Riley’s dad said. “But we just want you to think about this. We want you to be prepared . . .”

  I stood and shook my head. “I’ll be prepared all right. I’ll be prepared with a lawyer.”

  “Gabby . . .” Riley’s mom started.

  I didn’t pay attention. I ran out the door, my mind racing. I had to figure out a way to stop them. I’d do whatever I could.

  CHAPTER 7

  It was against my better instincts. But, as I thought back to Riley’s lawyer friends, I realized the one who was easiest to locate was Derek Waters. He was sleazy in a womanizing, ambulance chasing kind of way. But he thought highly enough of himself that he had ads and commercials everywhere. That made him easy to find. A quick Internet search, and I had his number.

  I sat in my van outside the hospital. My emotions fluctuated between mourning and anger, between intense sadness and intense rage.

  How could his parents even be considering taking him away from me? If it was so he could receive better medical care, that would be one thing. I still wouldn’t like it. But for their convenience? Moving him in his current state was risky. Then, on top of all of that, throw in some loopy doctor that they went to church with? No way.

  I pulled back my tears, frustrated with myself that I kept giving in to the waterworks—into weakness. I was stronger than this.

  At least, I’d thought I was.

  I massaged my achy tear glands. I had to figure out some options here. With shaky fingers, I dialed Derek’s number and listened to the phone ring. Finally, a woman answered. I asked to speak to Derek, she said he wasn’t available, and I told her I was a friend of Riley Thomas and I was calling to discuss a highly-sensitive situation.

  To my surprise, Derek picked up a couple of minutes later. I licked my lips, trying to collect myself. “Derek, this is Gabby St. Claire. We met at Allendale—”

  “Gabby. Of course I remember you. You’re Riley’s girl. How’s it going?”

  “Not very well, I’m afraid. Riley was shot, Derek. He’s in a medically induced coma right now. The doctors don’t know what the future is going to hold . . .”

  He was silent for a minute. “Man, I had no idea. I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Derek, Riley’s parents are talking about having him transferred to a hospital up where they live. I didn’t know who else to ask. I . . . I just don’t know—what to think, what to do.”

  “Did he write a Power of Attorney? A living will? An Advanced Health Care Directive, maybe?”

  I searched my brain. “I don’t know. We never really talked about it. Riley’s parents claim they have durable power of attorney.”

  “Where would he have put a legal document like that?”

  Frustration rose in me at my lack of answers. “I have no idea. Did he hire a lawyer? Do lawyers hire lawyers, for that matter? I’m just drawing a blank here.”

  “Don’t panic, Gabby. You could still look for those documents.”

  “Where? A safety deposit box maybe?”

  “No, probably not. Most people don’t put them somewhere hard to access because then other people can’t get to the documents when they’re needed. They need to be easily available. Check his file drawers. His office maybe. Some people even put them in their freezers.”

  “Their freezers?” What other options might he suggest? A toilet bowl basin?

  “I know it sounds weird, but if there’s a fire or flood, usually the freezer will remain sealed and untouched.” He paused a moment. “I don’t know. Riley just seems like the type who would have documents like that.”

  I nodded. Derek was right. Riley was that type. The question was: How did I get into his apartment while his parents were staying there in order to search for the documents? I’d have to think about that later.

  “That’s all I can do? There’s nothing else?”

  “If it came down to it, you could file a lawsuit to stop his parents from moving him. It would be time-consuming and costly, but it’s worked before.”

  A lawsuit. Funny, this was the second time today that someone had brought up suing someone. Garrett didn’t seem to think Christians should sue other Christians. I needed to do my own research and read the Bible to see what it said. It wasn’t something I’d ever thought about before. Not really.

  “Look for those documents, Gabby. If you don’t find them and you need to take some action, let me know. I’ll see what I can do to help. I’m actually licensed in Virginia and Massachusetts.”

  “Thanks, Derek. I appreciate it.”

  “I’m sorry about this, Gabby. Really sorry. Riley’s a stand up guy. I know we’re as different as night and day, but I don’t want this for him.”

  Derek actually seemed like he had a heart. Maybe I’d been wrong about him. Probably not, but maybe.

  “Thanks, Derek.”

  I hung up. I knew where I needed to go next.

  ***

  I pulled up in front of Riley’s law office. It was located on the outskirts of the downtown area, in a small one-story building that housed two different businesses—Riley’s and an accounting office. A small parking lot with six spaces was out front and a dumpster peeked around the side of the building. Behind the space was a nice view of the high-rise towers of downtown Norfolk.

  I hadn’t been in here since the shooting. I really didn’t want to see the place where my fiancé’s life had nearly come to an end. My imagination was enough.

  The crime scene had been released last week, and I’d gotten Chad to come in and clean it up for me. There were just some things a girl shouldn’t have to do. I didn’t want to see Riley’s blood. I didn’t want to picture the scene any more than I already saw it in my head.

  I was pleasantly surprised to see Mary Lou’s Lincoln Town Car in the parking space in front of the building. What was she doing here exactly? I was going to find out.

  I climbed from my van and pulled at the front door. It was locked. Curious.

  I tapped at one of the two glass doors at the front of the building. As I waited, I cupped my hands around the glass and peered inside. I spotted a peaceful picture of Jesus calming the water directly in front of me and a plaque with “Damascus Law” above that. A white door with “Welcome” was on the left and a regal looking armchair across from it.

  A moment later, the interior door cracked and Mary Lou peered around the edge. She spotted me, lost the strained look on her face, and hurried toward the door to let me in.

  “Gabby! I didn’t expect to see you here.” She pulled me inside and immediately locked the door again. “Call me paranoid, but I just can’t leave this accessible for anyone to come in. Not now, not after what happened. Maybe after the person who did this is caught . . .”

  I stepped into the office area, a bit unnerved myself. “I understand. What are you doing here?” I glanced at her desk, hoping I’d see a clue to her presence.

  “I guess I should have mentioned it to you. I didn’t even think about it. I knew you had other things on your mind.” She ushered me toward a seat across from her desk.

  I politely declined,
insisting that I’d been sitting a lot lately.

  She picked up a stack of papers and scurried toward the filing cabinets behind her. “I had to come in and let Riley’s clients know what was going on. There were court dates and legal briefs due.” She shook her head. “Riley wouldn’t want people to think he’d forgotten about them. I’ve been on the phone and answering emails. I should have probably come earlier.”

  “Of course.” How could I have not remembered that? Last week I’d been in a daze, it seemed. Everything was a blur. Everything except me sitting at Riley’s bedside.

  Mary Lou paused for long enough to hurry back toward me and feel my cheek with the back of her hand. “You’re not looking too good, Dear. Why don’t you sit down? Let me get you some tea?”

  Before I could say no, she’d charged over to the single cup coffee maker and inserted a tea pod. The fancy machine had been a gift from Riley’s parents when he’d opened the practice.

  Just the thought of them made my muscles stretch tight under the weight of their betrayal.

  “Any updates?” Mary Lou asked, grabbing a cup and putting it under the dispenser.

  Yeah, Riley’s parents are considering taking him away from me. I didn’t say that. Instead, I shook my head. “No, not really.”

  “That’s too bad. I’m still praying for a miracle. The world just wouldn’t be the same without the likes of Riley Thomas. He’s a good man.”

  It hadn’t been that long ago that I’d believed in miracles. For some reason, all of that felt like another lifetime ago. Right now . . . right now my emotions were wreaking havoc on me. They were making me doubt everything.

  The water gurgled out from the coffee pot. Mary Lou grabbed the thick paper cup, added a packet of sugar, and stirred it with a little straw. Then she placed it in my hand and lowered herself across from me. “What brings you by here?”

  “This may sound weird, but did Riley keep any personal documents here?”

  “What do you mean?” She twisted her head.

  “I don’t know. His insurance policy or will or a living will maybe?”

  Her eyes widened. “Sweetie, please don’t tell me you’re trying to figure out what you’ll get if he dies? I thought more of you.”