by Brown,Dick
Steam boiled out of the shower that Cass had turned on full force.
“It’s scalding.”
“Adjust it to suit yourself. I’m going downstairs to fix something to eat. When you finish your shower, clean your puke up off the floor. Lunch will be ready by then.”
Downstairs, Cass collected all the empty bottles for the trash and sanitized the kitchen counter and breakfast table with Lysol spray. When she opened the refrigerator to see what was left to eat, the smell of spoiled food almost knocked her over. She angrily raked everything into the garbage can and took it outside. The stove vent fan was turned on high so she could breathe in the air without throwing up. She picked up the beeping wall phone dangling off its hook and dialed an Italian restaurant that would deliver.
“I want a medium meat lasagna, two salads, and two mint ice teas as soon as you can get here.” She rattled off their address and hung up. There were stains from spilled drinks on the thick white llama-skin rugs and hardwood floors. Burn marks dotted the walnut end tables, where ashtrays had overflowed. The silk couch upholstery had cigarette burn holes, too. She retreated toward the kitchen when she heard Roger’s heavy footsteps on the stairs. He was dressed in nothing but a bathrobe and flip-flops. They entered the kitchen at the same time from different directions.
“Will you please sit down and explain to me what the hell happened while I was gone?” she said, trying and failing to control her anger.
“Don’t yell, my head is killing me.”
“There’s Buffering in the left cabinet above the stove,” she said.
Roger opened the cabinet in slow motion, shook several pills from the bottle into the palm of his hand, and filled a glass of water. “No party, princess,” he said.
“Stop calling me princess. Your knight-in-shining-armor image fell off his horse a long time ago.”
“All right, all right, enough with the wisecracks.” Still speaking softly, Roger began, “I was arrested and charged with arson and insurance fraud for the club fire. Larry and some of his old SMU law school buddies were here all week trying to build a defense after he posted my $50,000 bail.” He paused with a pained look on his face, his head hung low to avoid her burning stare. “I’m in some deep shit here.” Holding his glass of water, Roger shuffled from the sink to the breakfast table and sat down hard. He popped the pills and turned the glass up to wash them down.
“Sit down, Cass, there’s something else.”
“Oh, I can hardly wait.” She slid into a seat at the table facing Roger and asked, “What else could possibly go wrong?”
“Plenty. The arson detective took a second look at the fire scene and discovered some coke in the safe.” Roger paused, shaking his head. “That idiot was supposed to be an expert!” The sudden outburst startled Cass. “He swore he had torched lots of buildings without a hitch. The plan was to leave the coke in the unlocked safe with some worthless papers and no money. He was to take the coke as payment for the job. It was supposed to look like the fire was set to cover a robbery. Somehow, in his effort to stage the contents of the safe, he must have shuffled some papers on top of a small bag of coke and the investigator found it.” Roger slammed his fist on the table. “He had to pick my job to fuck up!”
Cass sat motionless, shocked and unable to respond. When she found her voice, trembling with anger, she yelled at Roger across the table. “You burned down your own club for the insurance money! And they found coke in your safe. Are you insane? First I find out you’re an arsonist. If that wasn’t bad enough, you’re dealing drugs, too! How could you be so stupid? Gramps offered to help you out, but no, you were too damn stubborn to accept his help.”
Roger leaned across the table almost in her face. “You don’t know what it’s like. How do you think I could afford to buy the two clubs, this house, and expensive cars? Yes, I had to deal drugs. I worked my way up from a campus peddler selling dime bags to students to becoming a major supplier at SMU. After that, it just got out of control. I started using and dealing out of The Hideaway Club. I was spending more than I was making dealing. Dallas police were cracking down on the streets. I owed my contact a lot of money. They’re really bad people,” he said, shaking his head. “I didn’t have a choice. I had to burn the newest club for the insurance or I would have wound up in the Trinity River wearing cement shoes. That’s why I wouldn’t let your Gramps get involved on his terms. He would have found out everything. It would have put him in danger, too. I did what I had to do.”
“Well, you’ve just shit your pants, mister big-shot drug dealer, and you’re just going to have to wear them. You have snorted your marriage and our life up your nose.”
“What does that mean? You can’t leave me. I saved your Gramps from harm. You have to tell the detectives I had nothing to do with the fire or how the drugs got there, that I was with you all night and have been set up. You owe me, Cass, you gotta help me out here. I could get life if convicted on the drug charges. I . . . can’t go to prison, I just can’t. That would be like getting the death penalty!” He collapsed back into his chair, sobbing.
“Right, let me get this straight. Help you so I can be your stay-at-home trophy wife while you’re doing drugs and screwing your waitress whores every night. I don’t owe you a damn thing and you aren’t taking me down with you. I feel sorry for you. Our marriage has been a lie for both of us from the beginning. I was just window dressing for you, and you were good in bed for me. Well, I’m through. I’ll not be a drug dealer’s wife. And I’m not perjuring myself for you if you have to go to prison for the rest of your miserable life.” Cass kicked her chair back, took a step away from the table, stopped, and turned toward Roger. “Takeout delivery is on its way, have a nice lunch,” she said coldly and turned toward the front door.
“You bitch, come back here.” Roger leaped after Cass and tackled her legs before she had taken two steps. He pinned her under his massive body. With their faces almost touching nose to nose, he said desperately, “I can’t let you go. You have to stay and testify for me, do you understand?”
She struggled to break his grip. “Get off me, you bastard, I’m not lying for you or going to prison over your crazy scheme. Let me up right now or—”
“Or what? You’ll run home to Gramps and your high school sweetheart?”
“Or this, you big liar.” Cass brought her knee up to his crotch with all her might, smashing his balls.
Roger howled in agony, grabbed his crotch, and rolled off her just long enough for Cass to wiggle free and make another try for the door. She turned the handle, pulled the heavy door open part way, and thought she was on her way out of there.
The door suddenly slammed shut with a loud crash that cracked it down the center. Cass cried out as she was crushed against the solid wood door by the full weight and force of Roger’s six-feet-four, two-hundred-fifty-pound frame. She crumpled to the floor like a hot air balloon after a flameout. She cried in excruciating pain, first grabbing her shoulder, then drawing her legs up into a fetal position. A warm, damp sensation between her legs immediately got her attention. When she looked down there was a crimson stain spreading in the crotch area of her white slacks.
“Roger, call 9-1-1!”
Chapter 39
Baylor Hospital, Dallas
Margaret Worthington’s Cadillac screeched into a parking space at Baylor Hospital’s emergency entrance parking lot. She opened her door and came around to help Randolph out of the car because he was unsteady on his feet when he hurried. She burst through the big double doors ahead of Gramps, who lagged behind her gasping for breath. As she approached the admitting desk, she saw Roger in handcuffs being escorted from the building by two police officers.
“What the hell did you do to my daughter?” she said as she advanced toward the threesome coming up the hall to the ER exit door.
One of the polic
emen stopped her advance. “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but you have to stand back and let us through. Mr. Helms is under arrest and we’re taking him down to the station.”
She followed closely, shouting at Roger every step. “You bully, hitting a woman not even half your size.”
“Everything’s under control,” the officer said. “Now, either you step away or I will arrest you for obstruction of justice and take you downtown, too.”
“You should put him in jail and throw away the key,” she shot back. “He almost killed my daughter.” Hospital security had arrived by then and led her away from the police and Roger.
“We’ll deal with you later,” she called back over her shoulder.
The security officer accompanied her to a vacant office next to the waiting room and sat her down. The officer took her name and who she was there to visit. “Mrs. Worthington,” he said calmly, “I understand that you are upset, but you must control yourself. If you can’t do that, I will have to escort you from the building and you won’t be able to see your daughter. Now, I know you don’t want that. Mrs. Worthington?”
“I’m sorry. I just want to see my daughter,” she said to the security officer in her normal tone of voice.
“If you give me your word you won’t cause another disturbance, you can go now and check at the admitting desk to find out which bay your daughter is being treated in. I’ll be watching you.”
Margaret returned to the admitting desk and politely asked the charge nurse, “My daughter is Cass Helms. Which bay are they treating her in?”
Gramps had caught his breath and accompanied Margaret to Bay Six. The curtain was drawn, but Margaret barged in anyway and threw her hands up to her face.
“Oh my God, what did he do to you?” Tears welled up in her eyes as she carefully leaned in to give her daughter a kiss on the forehead. Gramps stood quietly beside her.
Cass, still groggy from the anesthetic the EMT had given her, said, slurring her words, “We had an argument and when I tried to leave, he slammed me against the front door. He hit me so hard it broke my collarbone and cracked some ribs.” She paused and took a deep breath but couldn’t hold back the tears. “I lost the baby too.” She managed to get it out before her sobbing became uncontrollable.
“Baby! You were pregnant? Why didn’t you tell us?” Margaret became hysterical. Gramps registered surprise, but remained in control and tried to calm Margaret down.
Cass and Margaret consoled each other for several minutes, enough time for Cass to continue. “I wasn’t sure. I had only missed one period and didn’t have any other symptoms. But I wanted to tell you. I had just taken one of those drugstore tests that day. If I was, it was so early I didn’t want to say anything until I went to Dr. McCombs and knew for certain. I hadn’t even told Roger.” She was still lightheaded, but her emotions were under better control. She continued, “He got mad because he’s charged with arson, drug possession and distribution, and insurance fraud. He wanted me to lie for him, swear he knew nothing about the fire and or how it happened. That he was home with me all evening. When I refused and tried to leave, that’s when he lost it and attacked me. I swore out a restraining order and will file charges against him for assault and murdering my unborn baby. He’s going to pay for this.”
“Oh darling, I had no idea he was so violent. Don’t worry, we’ll get Reggie Winthrop, the best lawyer in Bois D’Arc, to make sure he never hurts you again.” Margaret looked up and down the hall. “Who’s your doctor? I want to talk to him and find out when we can take you home.”
“I don’t know. I was out of it by the time I got here.”
Margaret picked up the call device attached to the head of Cass’s bed and buzzed the nurses’ station. When the nurse responded, Margaret asked which doctor had treated Cass.
“Dr. Stacey Mills. She is with a patient. May I help you?”
“I want to know when I can take my daughter home.”
“I’ll inform Dr. Mills. She will be with you as soon as she finishes up in Bay Nine. Please be patient. It has been an unusually busy day,” she said.
Margaret turned back to Cass. “So you’re telling me Roger burned down his own business. Why? I just can’t believe it, he seemed so nice and ambitious.”
Cass’s speech was more organized as the anesthetic wore off. “Mom, you have no idea what Roger’s like. It’s a long story and I don’t feel like telling it right now, maybe later. I just don’t—”
A haggard-looking woman in bloodstained scrubs whipped the curtain open, interrupting Cass. “I’m Dr. Mills.” She approached Margaret. “I assume you are Mrs. Worthington. You inquired about your daughter’s discharge,” she said as she pulled her rubber gloves off and extended her arm to shake Margaret’s hand.
“Yes, I am Cass’s mother.” She shook the doctor’s hand. “Would you kindly explain her condition? Is she able to be released today? I would like to take her home to recover and hire a nurse to monitor her if you think it’s necessary.”
“I don’t think she will need a home nurse. Mrs. Helms received an extremely hard blow to her body, resulting in a broken clavicle, or collarbone, and some severely bruised and fractured ribs. Her pregnancy was in the very early weeks of her first trimester. The impact to her body triggered the miscarriage. In cases like this, when it is so early in the first trimester, the miscarriage usually expels all the tiny fetus tissue by itself and will not require further medical procedures. Since she wasn’t hemorrhaging, a D & C wasn’t necessary. She received antibiotics in an IV to prevent infection. Mrs. Helms, if you feel well enough to leave, I will sign your discharge papers and have a nurse escort you out in a wheelchair. Hospital policy,” she responded to Cass’s frown. “When you get home, I recommend no strenuous activity for twenty-four hours. You may experience some painful cramping initially, but it shouldn’t last longer than twenty-four hours. Ibuprofen will usually stop the cramping. Also, no intercourse for at least two weeks and continue on the antibiotics for at least ten days.
“As far as your other injuries are concerned, you might be sore for as long as six weeks. Be protective of your rib cage and shoulder. You are wearing a figure-eight sling, which is to be worn until the shoulder heals or you cease to have pain in the shoulder. See your family physician as soon as you can and follow his recommendations. The nurse will be right back with your discharge papers and wheel you out. I’m sorry you lost your baby, but you’re a lucky lady. It could have been a lot worse. Good luck and a speedy recovery.” Dr. Mills shook hands with Cass and Margaret and left.
Chapter 40
The plea bargain
Roger’s good friend and business lawyer remained by his side but turned the case over to a team of SMU law school graduates in his firm’s criminal case department. Fred Ackerman, the team leader, was a vicious attorney who pushed the boundaries of questionable legal practices to extreme limits. He had a reputation for getting major drug offenders off with little or no hard time. The plea bargain agreement he worked out with the First District Court’s Assistant District Attorney was nothing short of a miracle. Since Roger had no prior record, he offered the Assistant DA a slam-dunk conviction. It would add to his successful string of wins and help his race for District Attorney next election. The deal would let Roger plead guilty to the arson charge in exchange for dropping the narcotics charge down to a simple possession case in drug court. That would get him four years’ probation, drug rehabilitation, and no jail time. The ADA snapped it up.
The arson plea bargain resulted in a reduced charge of reckless endangerment, five years’ probation to be served concurrently with his drug probation and restitution damages. Since it was his own property there was no restitution, but he defaulted on the bank loan and filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy. His SMU lawyer team kept him out of jail, but he was more concerned about his drug debt that could still get him that trip to
Trinity River wearing cement shoes.
Texas homestead law allowed Roger to keep the mansion, but it had to be sold. He couldn’t afford the payments and had no desire to live in the huge mansion alone. Penniless, he was forced to work in his first night club acquisition, a gentleman’s club called The Top Hat, while he carried out the terms of his plea bargain. It was the only thing he hadn’t lost now that Cass had filed for divorce, which in Texas took only sixty days. She eventually dropped the assault charges to avoid facing him in court.
Recovering in Bois D’Arc
“I’m driving myself to Dr. McCombs today. I can’t stand sitting around doing nothing,” Cass said to Margaret after Essie finished clearing off the breakfast table. “I appreciate all the good care you’ve given me, Mom, I really do. But I’m not in much pain and I just need to do something.”
“You’ll do no such thing. I’ll drive you to Dr. McCombs until he says you can drive. I don’t want to hear another word about that, young lady.”
Pain shot through her shoulder as Cass stubbornly opened the car with her injured arm. Her shoulder wasn’t as healed as she had hoped. She winced, but didn’t let on to her mother. Cass wasn’t in the mood for the shopping trip Margaret proposed after the doctor visit. She was more careful getting out of the car and let Margaret open the door to the doctor’s office.
“Well, young lady, how is my favorite patient doing?” Doctor McCombs asked.
