Life Everlasting

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Life Everlasting Page 29

by Robert Whitlow


  “And the movement of his foot and hand,” Ted said. “What do you think?”

  Sarah laughed. “I think it’s the preview to a miracle. Neurologically, it’s staggering. Only the right side showed recovery, but it’s incredibly significant. His chart doesn’t indicate the spinal cord nerve was severed when he fell, but it’s the first sign that a return of function is possible. We’ll notify his doctor first thing in the morning.”

  Ted looked at his watch. It was almost 2:00 AM. Sarah saw him.

  “You can go home and get some sleep,” she said.

  Ted shook his head. “No. There is someone we need to thank and praise.”

  Alexia thought about Ted and Sarah during the drive from Charleston to Santee. She’d not been with them at the cottage, but she ventured out on her own journey of faith by talking to Sean Pruitt. Even though it was late, she called Ted’s number at the old parsonage. The phone rang several times before the answering machine came on. She left a message and tried his cell phone. It, too, routed her to an answering message. A report to and from the minister would have to wait for the following day.

  Saturday morning, Alexia decided to go to the office for a few hours and catch up on paperwork. When she arrived, there was a message with a name and phone number in the seat of her chair: “Urgent—call ASAP.” When she saw the name on the slip of paper, Alexia didn’t need the phone number. She had memorized Rena’s numbers weeks before, as every call from her client routinely fell in the urgent category. Alexia buzzed the receptionist. Saturday was a busy day for Rachel Downey, and she kept a full staff on duty.

  “Did you leave the message on my chair?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did the caller give any other information?”

  “No, the woman didn’t even want to leave her name at first. She sounded upset.”

  Alexia picked up the slip and called the number.

  “Where have you been?” Rena asked anxiously. “I tried all your numbers, but you didn’t answer.”

  “I forgot to turn on my cell phone when I left the house and just received your message at the office. What’s going on?”

  “Your minister friend spent the night at the cottage with the night-duty nurse, which could get her fired if I cared about that sort of thing. But anyway, when I saw him leave, I called over to find out what was going on, and the morning nurse told me that during the night Baxter moved his foot and hand.”

  “He moved his foot and hand?”

  “It wasn’t more than a twitch, but that’s not the problem. They also talked to him, and I don’t know what he said. We have to do something before he wakes up and starts causing trouble.”

  Alexia’s head was spinning.

  “He moved,” she said softly, more to herself than to Rena.

  “Are you listening to me? I’m afraid that he will try to blame me as a way to direct attention away from himself. I mean, if he talks to Detective Porter, there’s no telling what he might say. And I know the detective will believe anything that accuses me of doing—”

  “Hold on,” Alexia interrupted, regaining her focus. “Let me get this straight. Did you go over to the cottage after you talked to the nurse?”

  “No. We just talked on the phone.”

  “Did the nurse say that Baxter accused you of anything?”

  “No, she didn’t mention it, but I’m not sure what happened.”

  Alexia looked at the clock on the corner of her desk. Sarah Locklear’s shift would have ended over an hour earlier.

  Rena continued to speak rapidly. “She said Baxter wanted to see me, but I don’t want to go over there by myself. I’m scared.”

  “I’ll be right over and go with you,” Alexia responded.

  “Will you be there as my attorney?”

  “Yes, I’m still representing you.”

  “Which means that no matter what Baxter says, you won’t repeat it to anyone?”

  Rena’s paranoia constantly kept Alexia testing the limits of ethical guidelines. She wanted to see Baxter for herself but chose her words carefully since her visit could have legal implications for Rena.

  “There might be exceptions, but Baxter doesn’t pose a threat to you or anyone else.”

  “He would if he lied,” Rena shot back.

  “No, you don’t understand. The only thing I would have to report would be the possibility of future criminal conduct. Any accusations he makes against you would be about past events and protected by the attorney-client privilege.”

  “Oh, I wasn’t worried about the future. I’m getting out of here as soon as possible.”

  Alexia remembered Rena’s threat to become a fugitive. “But not before we take care of the situation in Charleston. I met with Sean Pruitt last night. He’s done a good job on the motion to suppress the subpoena for the videotape and will schedule a hearing as soon as possible. Once that is settled, you can go wherever you want.”

  “I don’t want to talk about that right now. How soon can you get here?”

  “Within five minutes. Stay in the house and watch for my car.”

  Before staring the engine, Alexia hit the memory button for the old parsonage. The answering machine responded. She left another message for Ted.

  Rena opened the front door of the house and came outside as Alexia parked beside the cottage. Alexia stood beside her car and waited. Rena had not taken time to properly brush her hair. She wore workout clothes that didn’t match.

  “How do you want to handle this?” Alexia asked.

  “You do the talking. Tell the nurse and the aide to leave the room, and I’ll stand where Baxter can’t see me.”

  “What do you want me to ask him?”

  “I thought about that while waiting for you. Get him to admit that he tried to push me off the cliff.”

  Alexia’s mouth dropped open in amazement. “How do I do that?”

  “You’re the lawyer. That’s your job.”

  Rena started to walk toward the cottage, but Alexia didn’t budge.

  “Most people don’t willingly admit to attempted murder,” Alexia said. “We have no idea whether—”

  “Come on,” Rena interrupted. “You’ve got to go on the offensive and nail down his story before anyone else can try to manipulate him.”

  Alexia walked slowly behind her. “I thought you were concerned that he was going to accuse you.”

  “I am, but if you get him to tell the truth while he’s weak, it will be hard for him to change his story later.” Rena slipped her hand in the pocket of her pants and pulled out a digital voice recorder. “I brought this, and I’ll be standing close enough to the head of the bed to pick up his voice.”

  They reached the front door of the cottage. Rena cracked it open, peeked inside, and motioned with her hand. A nurse that Alexia had never seen before came to the door. She was obviously excited.

  “The night nurse called and told me Baxter was more alert,” Rena said.

  “Yes, but the most amazing thing is that he exhibited voluntary movement in his right hand and foot. We’ve left a message with the neurologist’s answering service.”

  “Is he awake?” Rena persisted.

  “No, he’s sleeping.”

  “Have you talked to him?”

  “No.”

  “Okay. I’d like to be alone with him.”

  The nurse nodded. “The aide and I will be in the kitchen.”

  “No,” Rena responded. “I want total privacy. Go over to the main house. The front door is open, and the kitchen is to the left through the dining room. There’s coffee in the pot on the counter.”

  Though Rena was agitated, Alexia could see clearly that she had a plan to carry out.

  “If he has any distress—”

  “I’ll let you know, and you can be here in less than a minute.”

  Alexia watched the bewilderment in the nurse’s eyes and could see her evaluating whether to refuse a direct order from her patient’s wife.

  “Alright
,” the nurse replied. “But please keep the visit short. This is outside our protocol.”

  “The only problem you’ll have is if you tell me I can’t have private time with my husband. I want to see for myself how he’s doing.”

  The nurse’s brow furrowed at the direct threat. She turned toward Alexia.

  “Who are you?”

  “Alexia Lindale.”

  “A friend of mine,” Rena added before Alexia could say anything else. “Please get the aide and leave. We’re not going inside until you’ve left.”

  While they waited, Alexia said, “You didn’t have to be so rough on her. She’d already agreed to leave.”

  “She needs to know that I’m the boss. I’m sick and tired of doctors and nurses telling me what I can and can’t do. Ever since the first meetings with the doctors in Greenville, they’ve tried to run my life.”

  Alexia didn’t answer. Rena’s state of mind didn’t accommodate diplomacy at any level. The nurse and aide came to the door. The aide glanced nervously at Rena, who ignored the look.

  “Help yourselves to coffee,” Rena said. “There is cream in the refrigerator and bagels on the counter if you want a snack. Cups are in the cabinet above the dishwasher.”

  As soon as the other women left, Rena turned to Alexia.

  “Was that nice enough?”

  “I don’t think it’s wise to make a big deal out of ordering them off the job.”

  Rena shrugged. “It won’t show up in their notes because they don’t want to get into trouble.”

  Rena pushed open the door and peeked inside.

  “His eyes are closed,” she whispered. “I’ll sneak in quietly and go to the head of the bed. As soon as I’m there, you come in and wake him up.”

  “Do you want me to ask him to move his foot?”

  “No,” Rena hissed. “The nurse already told me it wasn’t much.”

  Alexia started to argue, but Rena spun around and went into the cottage. Alexia counted to ten and opened the door. Rena was standing directly behind Baxter’s head and motioned for her to come inside. Alexia usually had more than thirty seconds to prepare for an important interview and didn’t share Rena’s expectations about the benefits of cross-examining Baxter. Most damaging admissions Alexia obtained in her cases came only after many hours of research and hard work. However, an opportunity to protect her client couldn’t be ignored.

  She approached the bed. Baxter lay on his side with his eyes closed. A foam wedge behind his back kept him stable. It was warm in the room, and his bare right arm rested outside the sheet. She sat in a chair near his head. As she did so, she thought about Ted. A few hours before, the music minister occupied the same spot for a different purpose. She leaned close to the sleeping man’s face.

  “Baxter,” she said in a soft voice.

  Rena shook her head from side to side. “Louder,” she said in an intense whisper. “No one else is here.”

  Alexia took a deep breath, and spoke in a voice that could have filled a courtroom. “Baxter!”

  The young man opened his eyes and looked directly at her with the gaze of a person waking from a nap. No confusion or disorientation marked his countenance. He opened his mouth to speak.

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  When he spoke, a thought shot into Alexia’s mind. She spoke distinctly but without extra volume.

  “I’ve been coming with the man who has been playing music for you.”

  Baxter licked his lips. “Good. Sing?”

  “No, that’s one of the nurses. I pray.”

  Alexia could see Rena gesturing but ignored her.

  “I can’t move my arms and legs,” the young man said.

  “Yes, you can,” she said. “Try to move the fingers on your right hand.”

  She stared intently at the right hand inches from her face. The fingers moved. Alexia glanced up at Rena.

  “Did you see that?” Alexia asked in excitement.

  Rena pointed at the voice recorder.

  “The doctor is coming to see you later,” Alexia continued. “He’ll tell you how you’re doing.”

  Baxter closed his eyes. When he opened them, he asked, “Where is Ted?”

  “Uh, he’s gone home,” she said. “He was here all night with you. Did you talk to him?”

  Baxter licked his lips again. “Yes.”

  “Are you thirsty?”

  He nodded slightly.

  “Would you like some water?” she asked.

  “Yes, please.”

  Baxter had been an inanimate object in Alexia’s mind for so long that the simple request caused an involuntary wave of sympathy to well up within her. He had done a terrible thing to Rena, but Baxter was still a human being. On his tray was a slender wooden stick with a tiny orange sponge on the end. Alexia dipped the sponge in a cup of water, took it out, and rubbed it across the paralyzed man’s lips. He took it into his mouth and sucked a few drops of fluid from it.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  Rena leaned forward with her eyes blazing and mouthed the words, “Ask him!”

  Alexia leaned closer.

  “Baxter, do you remember what happened at the waterfall before you fell?”

  He didn’t answer but looked past her.

  “Rena,” he said and then stopped.

  “Yes, she was there. What did you try to do?”

  “Grab,” he managed.

  “Did you and Rena get in a fight?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you try to grab Rena?”

  “Yes.”

  Alexia looked up at Rena, who nodded and held up the recorder with its red light glowing.

  “Did you try to push her off the cliff?”

  A puzzled look crossed the paralyzed man’s face.

  “Push, Rena,” he responded. The tone sounded affirmative but was less clear when combined with his facial expression.

  “Will you tell me why you tried to push Rena off the cliff?”

  “No,” he said a little bit stronger.

  He looked at Alexia and slightly shook his head.

  “Will you talk to me?” she asked.

  Baxter closed his eyes and didn’t open them. Alexia remained beside his head. Rena peeked over the top of the bed and then walked softly out the door. Alexia pushed back her chair and joined her outside.

  “I think I got it,” Rena said. “I’ll rewind the tape so we can listen.”

  “Did you see his hand move?” Alexia asked.

  “Yes. I read on the Internet that sometimes paralyzed people will have slight motion, but it doesn’t mean they will return to normal. It scares me to think that Baxter might recover his strength and come after me. Let’s listen to the tape.”

  Rena pressed the play button. Alexia’s questions were distinct. Baxter’s responses were fuzzy but audible.

  “You nailed him down pretty good,” Rena said. “I knew you could do it. I wasn’t sure why you mentioned the music minister until I saw Baxter’s reaction. That was smart. It got behind his defenses so he would tell the truth.”

  Alexia cringed at the characterization of her methods. “I wasn’t trying to get behind his defenses, and I thought his answers were somewhat ambiguous. We’ll need more than what he just said to build a case in court.”

  “What was ambiguous?” Rena asked sharply. “He admitted the fight and that he grabbed me and tried to push me from the cliff.”

  “All that could be explained away by claiming that he was still coming out of the coma and didn’t understand what I was asking.”

  Rena held up the recorder. “Well, it’s enough for me. He mentioned the music minister by name, which shows he is oriented to his current surroundings, and his answers to your questions made sense without any extra words.”

  Alexia tilted her head to the side. “Have you been doing a lot of studying about the characteristics of paralyzed coma victims?”

  “Yes, and what’s happening with Baxter fits the information I read.”


  “Maybe,” Alexia replied. “But I’m going to check with Ted Morgan and find out what else took place last night.”

  32

  The fixed sentinels almost receive the secret whispers of each other’s watch.

  HENRY V, ACT 4, CHORUS 5

  When Alexia returned to the office, Gwen was at her desk playing a card game on her computer. The secretary glanced up from the screen.

  “What are you doing here on Saturday?” Alexia asked. “Besides playing solitaire.”

  “I stopped by to find out what happened,” Gwen responded. “I want every detail.”

  Alexia leaned against the door frame. “I talked briefly with Baxter, but I’m not sure he understood me. But the most incredible thing was—”

  “No,” Gwen interrupted. “I meant with Sean Pruitt. I called your house and when you didn’t answer, I checked here and found out you were working. The more I thought about lawyer Pruitt after our talk yesterday, the more fascinating he seems to me. I like Ted, but aristocratic-sounding Sean with lots of money, an expensive sports car, and a fancy house in Charleston deserves a serious look.”

  Alexia hesitated. Her thoughts were still on Baxter, but perhaps it was wise to avoid discussing his ability to move his fingers until the doctor had examined him.

  “Sean and I had a nice evening,” she answered simply.

  “Details,” Gwen demanded.

  Alexia obligingly summarized the previous evening’s conversation. She concluded by saying, “Maybe you shouldn’t have given up so quickly on your novel. Any romance between Sean Pruitt and me won’t generate enough suspense to make it to chapter two.”

  Gwen wrinkled her nose. “It’s your life, but it seems to me that you and Sean have a lot in common.”

  “We’ll be in court together as soon as he gets a date for the motion to suppress the subpoena.”

  Gwen closed the screen for the card game. “Give it room to grow. Have you talked to Ted about his time with Baxter?”

  “No, but according to Rena, Ted spent all night at the cottage with Sarah Locklear.”

 

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