by Ciana Stone
It made things rather difficult for her. She saw the way Max looked at her. She knew he was attracted to her. The feeling was mutual and it was hard not to act on the attraction. But how could she, without feeling like she was taking advantage of him?
While he might be one of the most intelligent men on the planet, emotions had little to do with intellect. He’d never been involved with a woman, at least not that she knew. What would happen if she allowed herself to get physically intimate with him?
As much as she wanted to think she was protecting Max, she knew that she was also protecting herself. She and Max had grown very close, intimate in a way she’d never been with a man. They shared their innermost feelings and fears. She knew it was a new experience for him, but it was for her as well. She’d never trusted anyone as she did him and it made her afraid. If the intimacy moved to another level, she’d be putting even more faith in him. And then what? What if he didn’t live up to that faith? Could she face that possibility?
At summer’s end, the Westons would return and she’d have to leave. What would happen to her and Max then?
The thought of leaving him a prisoner and walking away had become unthinkable. But what choice did she have? Unless it could be proven that he was competent to take care of himself, there was no chance. She had to find a way to prove beyond all doubt that Max was a fully functional human being, capable of making his own choices and being on his own.
Max signed out one of their favorite phrases. A penny for your thoughts?
Nikki smiled. “Thinking about you.”
Me? He pointed at himself and blinked in a parody of coquettishness.
“Yeah, you. My favorite subject.”
Max’s smile vanished. His eyes met hers and held. God help her, she wasn’t falling in love with Max. She was already there.
—
“Doctor Abernathy will be with you in a few moments, Ms. Richards.” The receptionist smiled and indicated the waiting room. “If you’d please have a seat?”
“Thanks.” Nikki took a seat and looked around. The waiting room was tastefully and expensively decorated. Clearly, psychiatry had been very good to Charles Abernathy.
Using the name of a casual friend who’d written for the university paper, Nikki got an appointment with the doctor. She’d been surprised at just how easy it was. Now if she could just manage to get the conversation around to Max.
The inner door opened and the receptionist gestured to her. “The doctor will see you now. If you’ll follow me.”
Nikki looked around as she followed the receptionist down the hall. Her pace slowed as another woman exited a room, giving Nikki a glimpse inside. All she had time to see was a wall filing system, a desk and a computer. The receptionist stopped and knocked on a door at the end of the hall.
“Yes?” came a male voice from inside.
Pushing open the door, the receptionist gestured for Nikki to enter. “Ms. Richards, sir.”
“Thank you.” Charles Abernathy stood and walked around his desk. “Ms. Richards. Good day.”
Nikki studied him as he crossed the room to greet her. He was slight of build, around five-eight, with thin brown hair that was graying at the temples. Bright hazel eyes peered from behind stylish rimless glasses.
“Thank you for taking the time to see me, Doctor.” Nikki shook his hand then let him guide her to the couch along one wall of the office.
The doctor took a seat across from her in a thickly padded wing chair. “My pleasure. Always happy to do my part for young, eager minds.”
Nikki gave him a halfhearted smile and pulled out a small digital recorder she’d borrowed from Max. “Do you mind?”
“No, not at all.”
“Thanks.” She turned it on and placed it on the low table between them. “I’m doing a series on disabilities and people who overcome them. I wanted to focus one of the articles on speech disorders.”
Charles looked at her in surprise. “An interesting concept, yet hardly my specialty, Ms. Richards.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” She dug out her notebook and flipped through the pages, pretending to look for something. “I was sure I read a paper written by you on speech disorders, physiological versus psychological pathology or something like that.”
“No, no I don’t believe so.”
“Are you sure? I know I’ve got it somewhere. Heck! Anyway, I thought you had worked with people who suffer from speech disorders.”
“No, I’m afraid not.”
“Oh, so you’ve never had a case in which the patient had some type of speech disorder, lost the ability to speak, anything like that?”
“No.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, I seem to remember reading something about a girl who suddenly lost the ability to speak and you were her doctor.”
Charles straightened in his seat. “I believe you’re mistaken, Ms. Richards.”
Nikki flipped through her notebook again. “Oh, hold on, I’m sorry. It wasn’t a little girl. It was a young man. Richard Maxwell Weston II. Sorry, my mistake.”
Charles squirmed in his seat. “Ms. Richards, at the risk of sounding redundant, I believe you’re mistaken.”
“I don’t think so, Doctor. It was Maxwell Weston and you were the doctor who diagnosed him. Surely you can’t have forgotten something like that. Not considering who the Westons are.”
Charles stood with a glower. “I’m afraid that’s all the time I have, Ms. Richards.” He hurried to the door. “Good day.”
Nikki picked up the recorder and tucked it in her oversized handbag along with her notebook. She stopped, facing the doctor at the door. “Thank you so much for your time, Dr. Abernathy. I’m sure your…comments will make a welcome addition to my article.”
She stepped out and the door closed behind her. Looking around, she saw no one else in the hall. She dashed to the door she had seen the filing system in and tapped lightly. No answer. Carefully and slowly she opened the door. There was no one inside.
Just as Nikki started to enter the room the doctor’s voice sounded from the end of the hall. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Ladies room,” she said as she turned. “Looking for the ladies room.”
“In the reception area.”
“Thanks.”
Hurrying down the hall, she bolted through the reception room. She was sure the doctor was hiding something. But at least she knew where the file room was. Now she just had to figure out how to get back in and take a look around.
—
Richard was jarred from sleep by the persistent buzz of his cell phone. Turning on the light, he answered. “Yes?”
“Richard, it’s Mark. Sorry to call at such an ungodly hour, but I just had a rather disturbing meeting with Charles.”
If Mark was disturbed, it was reason enough for Richard to be. “Explain.”
“It seems that a young reporter showed up at Charles’ office asking questions about Maxwell.”
Richard’s initial reaction was panic. “What did Charles say?”
“Nothing. He threw the woman out.”
“I assume he got a name.”
“Yes, Jan Richards.”
Richard considered it for a moment. “Call Charles and calm him down. And make sure this reporter doesn’t ask any more questions. And while you’re at it, make sure Charles doesn’t have any documentation on Maxwell aside from the legal documents signed by Judge Bellamy.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Thanks, Mark. I knew I could count on you.”
“Always, my friend. Sleep well.”
Richard signed off and lay back. It was probably nothing. Charles was prone to overreacting. Mark would take care of things.
Turning off the light, Richard closed his eyes and concentrated on more pleasant matters, such as getting home and setting his plan into motion to win over Nikki Morgan. Yes, indeed. He had big plans for her.
—
Nikki and Maxwell were just finishi
ng lunch on the terrace. She was laughing at something he “said” when Osgood walked out, accompanied by Mark Robinson. Maxwell immediately went into his role of the dullard, looking down at the tabletop.
“Ms. Morgan, Maxwell, Mr. Robinson is here,” Osgood announced.
“Hello, Maxwell.” Mark kept his eyes on Nikki as he spoke to Maxwell, then stepped up to the table and extended his hand to her. “How are you faring? Maxwell giving you any trouble?”
“Not really,” she replied then thought again. It would not do to let anyone think that Maxwell was treating her any different than he did anyone else. “All things considered.”
She felt the light kick Max gave her under the table. He did not look up but continued to stare at the tabletop.
Mark glanced over at him with obvious disinterest. “Yes, I understand. Tell me, Ms. Morgan, do you have any experience writing?”
“Not really.”
“You’ve never been published?”
“Just in the college paper.”
“Umm, you might know a young lady I just recently met. Jan Richards.”
Warning bells went off in Nikki’s head. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Really? She said she worked on the university newspaper.”
“A lot of people do.”
“Yes, undoubtedly.”
Deborah, one of the maids, appeared at the door. “Mr. Gaynor? There’s delivery you need to sign for.”
“Excuse me.” Osgood hurried from the room.
“Well, it’s nice to see you again, Ms. Morgan,” Mark said with a smile and nodded at Maxwell. “Maxwell. Have a pleasant day.”
“Yeah, you too,” Nikki said and watched him leave then looked at Max. “Just how often does this guy drop by the house when your parents are gone?”
Max indicated zero with his fingers.
Nikki leaned on the table, speaking in a whisper. “There’s no way he knows Jan Richards. She dropped out last semester and I don’t even know if she’s still around here. That’s why I used her name when I went to see Abernathy.”
Abernathy told Robinson about the visit! Max felt the first stirrings of alarm. It was not good to get the enemy suspicious. He communicated to her to meet him in his room in ten minutes, then swiped all of the dinnerware off the table, jumped up, threw his chair into the pool and raced out.
Nikki hid a smile at the display. She met Osgood as he was rushing toward the sound.
“Just another temperamental fit,” she said as she passed him by. “I’m going to go to my room and get some work done on my paper. I’ll stop in and make sure Maxwell is down for his nap.”
Making sure Osgood wasn’t watching or following, she hurried toward the library. The door was closed.
“Damn!” She couldn’t hear what was being said through the thick doors.
Giving up on spying, she headed to Max’s room. He wasn’t there. “Max?” she called, checking the bathroom, the closet and the balcony.
“Where’d he go?”
Thinking that he’d show up since he said to meet her in his room, she sat down on the bed to wait.
—
Charles Abernathy wasn’t happy at what Mark had to say and nearly shouted into his cell phone. “I’ve already assured both you and Richard that I don’t have any documentation concerning Maxwell except the court order giving Richard and Helen legal guardianship of him.”
“Hold on.” Mark removed his Bluetooth earpiece and punched the speakerphone button on the cell phone. “Dead battery on the headset. Now, as I was saying…” He paused at his car, pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one then leaned back against the car to continue his conversation. “Richard’s concerned with the incident that happened at your office. He thinks it’d be wise to have new equipment installed to ensure there’s no danger of anyone accessing sensitive information.”
“Whatever,” Charles gave in. “But I still think it’s unnecessary.”
“Perhaps, but better safe than sorry. Remember, if Richard goes down, everyone goes down with him.”
“All right! I said okay. Just do it.”
“Good.” Mark smiled and punched the disconnect on his phone then immediately dialed another number.
“Robinson here. I want a level-three tap on Charles Abernathy,” he spoke into the speakerphone then stubbed his smoke out onto the spotless drive and climbed into his car.
—
“Where’d you go?” Nikki jumped up as Max entered the room.
He cupped his hand around his ear and signed to her.
“Robinson? You were eavesdropping on him?”
Max nodded.
“So what’d you hear?”
Max knew it’d take far too much effort with their still less than perfect mode of communication to let her know what he’d overheard. Squaring his shoulders and marshalling his nerve, he went to the computer and quickly typed in a sequence of numbers.
Nikki looked at the screen then at him, clearly puzzled. Max opened another window and called up a chart. Nikki’s expression metamorphosed from confusion to astonishment.
“A cipher!”
Max nodded, feeling his stomach knot with excitement and anxiety. She grinned at him and turned immediately to the screen, using the key to decipher his message. Before she finished, however, she stiffened and turned to him.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this?”
Max looked away. She glared at him for a moment, muttered under her breath and turned back to the screen. Once deciphered, his message read It seems that my father’s friends are not as loyal as they would have him believe.
Nikki paid less attention to the message than to the fact he could deliver it. Angrily, she whirled and grabbed his arm. “All this time you could do this and you never bothered to tell me? Well, thanks a hell of a lot.”
Max tapped out another long string of numbers. She blew out her breath and started to decode it but he stopped her and opened yet another window. Copying the string of numbers, he pasted them into the new window. Almost immediately, words began to appear on the screen.
“A decoding program?” she asked.
He nodded. And pointed to the screen. She read the message. I’ve only been able to do this for the last three years. Before that, every time I tried, the words came out scrambled and meaningless. It took me several years to master the skill. But anyway, I’m not the only one who’s keeping secrets.
Nikki looked at him as she finished the sentence. How could he know she was keeping things from him, unless…
“Simon told you.”
Max nodded.
“What exactly did he say?”
That you and he had met and that he approved of what you were trying to do to help me, but that I should remain silent about my communication skills until such time as I felt I could completely trust you.
Max watched her as she read his message. She turned and looked into his eyes and some of her anger faded.
“Well, I don’t guess I can argue with that. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I thought about it—a lot—but I just didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want you to think I was conspiring behind your back. I’m sorry.”
It’s okay, his message replied. Trust is a two-way street. Is there anything else you’re keeping from me?
Nikki blushed to the roots of her hair. There was quite a bit, but nothing she was ready to admit. Max noticed the flush but made no comment, for which she was grateful.
“You said you’ve only been able to do this for three years. How did it come about? Was it something that happened gradually or all at once?”
Until three years ago, I could think the words, but every time I tried to write or type them, they would come out a meaningless jumble of letters. I tried to use a cipher, substituting numbers for letters, but it didn’t work. It was like something was blocking me from forming words. Then three years ago I had a nightmare. Strange images that made no sense—blood in thrashing water, a cat licking its mouth as if
in anticipation while it watched a fishbowl, a demon’s face coming closer and closer to me—a lot of flashes of things that made no sense but left me in a complete state of terror. I awoke in a panic, unable to remain still, as if my body was possessed by some bizarre energy. I tried screaming but no sound came out. Without thinking I sat down in front of the computer, which I never used except to play video games. The next thing I knew my fingers were keying in numbers. I didn’t know what to make of it at first. It didn’t seem to make any sense. Then it dawned on me to try a simple replacement cipher. It worked. I looked at what I had typed and it read bang bnag - ded - wrd no - slvr kee.
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
It didn’t to me either, but I saw two complete words in what I had typed—bang and no. It was the first time I’d ever been able to form a word, and it made a thrill run through me, even if it was a mistake. From that moment on, I practiced and learned that if I wasn’t thinking about what I wanted to say, I could key in the right numbers to convey the thought. All I had to do was forget the letters and use the numbers. But the conscious act of forming words made everything gibberish.
“That’s amazing. And Simon knows?”
Yes, we communicate via the computer.
“God, Max, this is fantastic! But—” She gave him a hard look. “But that means you deliberately failed the written parts of the exam I had you take. You could’ve completed those parts using your decoding program.”
Max shrugged with a little smile and she couldn’t help but smile in return. “So I guess we don’t need to worry about a sign language after all, do we? I mean with a PDA or smart phone or something like that you can communicate anything at any time as long as your decoding program is loaded.”
It is imperative that no one else know I can communicate this way.
“Why?”
I don’t know, only that my grandfather is convinced if anyone finds out, my life will be in great danger.
Nikki thought she understood. She hadn’t taken Simon’s words as fact, but had done some checking on her own, sifting through old newspaper and magazine articles, and had found articles about the so-called rape at the estate and how Richard had acted as the hero and saved his wife from certain death when he fought and killed her assailant. She’d also read the obituaries and found listings for the two people Simon claimed worked for Richard and tried to blackmail him. The cause of death in both instances was listed as automobile accident.
