Sabre propped up in the bed, reached into her nightstand, and removed her little red notebook. She read through her goals. Her last entry read, Skydive. Certain she could live without any more excitement right now, she thought it best to put it on hold for a little while. She read on, Learn another language. She made a mental note to check on some schools in Mexico where she could immerse herself in the culture.
Reading through the rest of the list, she hoped to implant the items into her subconscious. She had read somewhere, if you could transfer your dreams to your subconscious, they had to come true; your mind wouldn’t let you not accomplish them. So, every day she read through her list. She chuckled again when she saw Marry Victor Spanoli. She had crossed it off her list, but it remained the only entry in red ink, so it always jumped out at her. At six years old, red ink seemed appropriate. She wondered about the “subconscious thing.” If that entry implanted in her subconscious, she feared she may never marry – not that she was looking. She liked living alone, but maybe someday.
Sabre felt good this morning, except for a slight headache. She stepped out of bed with a smile on her face and headed downstairs to make her coffee, thinking she needed to buy one of those coffee pots where she could set the timer and wake up to the smell of coffee brewing in the mornings. On the way down the steps, she noticed her little brown bear sitting on the wrong step. He always sat on the second-to-the-top step, but this morning he sat on the fourth step from the top. For a split second she felt uneasy, but dismissed it thinking she must have moved him when she vacuumed. She placed him back where he belonged and went downstairs and brewed her coffee.
Sabre picked out one of her favorite mugs, threw a piece of wheat bread in the toaster, and walked into the living room. The sun streamed in through the sliding glass door, making her aware the blinds were slightly open. Fear welled up inside her. She would never have left the blinds like that. Hurrying across the floor, she checked the slider and found it locked. Moving first to the front door and then the back, she checked the other locks, all locked. “I’m way too jumpy. Bob must’ve left it open last night when he came by here.”
The phone rang, startling her. She picked it up, but no one answered. She hung it up. Concerned, she ran upstairs to get dressed. The phone rang again. She picked it up and snapped, “Hello.”
“What’s the matter with you this morning? You get up on the wrong side of the bed?” Bob asked.
“I’m sorry. The phone rang a second ago and no one answered. I thought it was someone goofing around,” she fibbed.
“Sorry, I’m the culprit. I called on my cell and I could hear you, but apparently you couldn’t hear me. I kept saying hello, but you didn’t answer.” He heard her sigh. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just a little jumpy; I’ll tell you about it later. I’ll be leaving here in about fifteen minutes for court. Did you call about something special?”
“No, just to check on you. See you in a bit.”
Sabre finished getting ready and drove to the courthouse. She pulled into a parking space and sat for a moment, collecting her thoughts. Her head spinning, she thought about everything that had happened: the bat, the conversation with Mrs. Sterling, the stuffed bear in the wrong spot, and her open curtain. “Ahhh … !” She jumped, startled by the knock on her window.
“Hey, it’s just me,” Bob said. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said, as she exited the car.
“Sorry, Sobs. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“It’s okay, just lots of things making me jumpy these days. I noticed one of my stuffed animals sitting on the wrong step this morning and I don’t recall moving him, and my window blind was partially open. Do you think maybe you moved the blind last night when you checked the house?”
“I don’t recall moving the blinds, but I certainly could have. I did look around pretty carefully. What else could it be? It’s not likely someone came in your house just to move a bear and mess up a curtain.”
“You’re right. Just too much going on, and it has me a nervous wreck,” she said, dismissing the concern. She changed the subject. “I haven’t been able to get the conversation I had with Ruby Sterling out of my head. How terrified they must’ve been. I don’t know what to do with the information. What good does it do me? How am I going to protect Alexis? If I tell anyone, it might be her death sentence. I just don’t know what to do.”
Bob put his arm around his friend’s shoulder and gave her a hug as they walked towards the courthouse. “Let’s think about this. For starters, you need to keep Alexis safe. She’s probably better off at Jordan Receiving Home than she would be anywhere else right now. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” Sabre replied.
“Okay, talk to Marla. Don’t tell her what you know because she’ll have to write it up in a report. Just tell her you have some reason to believe Alexis could be put in harm’s way. She’ll trust you and beef up security the best she can.”
“Good idea,” Sabre responded. Not thinking clearly, and with her head still aching, she appreciated Bob’s help.
“Then you call Detective Carriage and see if he has found the Sterling file yet. Maybe there’s a clue in there.”
“Do you think I should tell Detective Carriage what I know?”
“Can you trust him?”
“I don’t know. He’s been very helpful, providing me with information he has found. He followed up on Mattie for me and has kept me informed on everything. Well, as far as I know, everything. I do have to admit I wondered in the beginning why he seemed so anxious to help me. And Ruby did tell me the thugs said they had the police in their pocket.”
“Do you think he is somehow involved with all this?”
“I just don’t know. He could be. In my gut I don’t think so, but I’m just not willing to take the risk. What if I’m wrong?”
“Good reasoning. See, you are thinking logically. So, get whatever information you can from Carriage and we’ll take it from there. We still have five days before the hearing. In the meantime, I don’t want you at the office by yourself, and I think you should stay with us for a few days.”
“Do you think there’s a connection between this case and all the crazy stuff happening to me?” Sabre grimaced.
“Perhaps, in which case, even the slightest thing we’ve been writing off to coincidence may be a part of some diabolical scheme.”
“No, that’s just too crazy.” Sabre tried once again to dismiss it all. “Look, I’ll be fine. I promise not to be at the office alone, but I’m not staying with you and your family. Besides, if someone is after me, it’s only going to put all of you in danger as well. In fact, are you sure you want to hang around with me? You never know,” Sabre said in a spooky voice.
“You joke, but I think we need to take this seriously. Look, I have a friend, JP, who’s a private investigator. You met him just a couple of months ago at Corey’s school play, remember? Tall, nice-looking guy, very intense?”
“Yeah, the one who reminded me of the movie star, what’s his name … Robert Urich.”
“He’s the one.”
“So, what about him?”
“Well, I’m sure you could stay with him for a little while. I’ll give him a call and make the arrangements.”
“Bob, I’m not leaving my home. You’re overreacting. I’ll be fine.” Sabre had made up her mind. “Let’s finish up here.” They walked into the courthouse and went to work.
With Sabre’s head bandaged, the scratches, and her black eye, word of the incident didn’t take long to spread around the courthouse. Everywhere she went she had to explain what had happened. She shared with Judge Cheney, Mike, and the court clerks in Department Four what had really occurred. The rest of the questions were answered with silly responses – things like “wild date” or “got to fix that trapeze.” Bob made up an elaborate story about some guy on stilts. The stories kept changing from one courtroom to the other. Some people kept pushing the issue. When they did, th
e stories just became more preposterous.
Bob and Sabre completed their morning calendars and walked out of the courthouse together. “Wreaking havoc in the courthouse about your accident was fun,” Bob said.
“Yeah, it broke up the monotony for sure, but I started to run out of clever things to say. You, on the other hand, seemed to improve as the morning went on. And the story you and Mike cooked up together–about the whips and chains and leather – please! I should be so lucky.”
“Mike really got into it. I think he had that little social worker going for awhile.” Bob laughed. “So, what’s up, Sobs? Time for lunch?”
“Yup. Pho’s?”
“Sure, it’s close and I have a trial this afternoon. How about you?”
“No, but I have a doctor’s appointment at three o’clock. I plan to stop and see Carla on the way. She’s worried about me. I think she just needs to see I’m okay. Also, her therapist asked me to stop in sometime between one and three today. He wanted to talk to me.”
After lunch, Sabre drove to see Carla. Things had been pretty bad for Carla since her encounter with Dr. Steele, whom she believed to be Ron. She had suffered a relapse, and didn’t seem to be gaining any ground. During Sabre’s visit, Carla mostly sat and stared at the walls. Sabre held her hand and talked to her until time for her appointment with the therapist.
Dr. Vincent, a rather plain looking, fifty-five-year-old man, stood about five-feet, ten inches tall. He had a stocky build and a full head of bushy, brown hair, with very little grey sprinkled throughout. On his rather large nose, appearing to have been broken several times, sat a pair of “Buddy Holly” glasses. He was a gentle, soft-spoken man and was well respected in the community. His credentials from Stanford and Notre Dame permitted him to work wherever he wanted. Fortunately for Carla, he chose to work with patients in her facility, and he seemed quite pleased with the progress Carla had made prior to this recent setback with Dr. Steele.
Sabre walked into his office and extended her hand, “Good afternoon, Dr. Vincent.”
“Hi, Sabre. Thanks for taking the time to meet with me.” He looked up and his gaze went to the bandage on her forehead. “What happened to you?”
“Long story,” she said as she sat down in front of his desk. “What can I do for you, Doctor?”
Dr. Vincent, appearing impressed with her direct manner, got right to the point. “Well, you’re aware of the situation we have here with Carla and Dr. Steele. So far, we’ve averted any further problems. Dr. Hilton has been gracious enough to continue to help out in Dr. Steele’s stead, but he can’t for very long. We need Dr. Steele to come back to work. Although, I’m concerned about the trauma it will cause Carla. Dr. Steele is an excellent doctor and it’s difficult to find doctors of his caliber, but he agrees we can’t risk the damage to Carla. I think I may have a solution, one very beneficial to Carla.”
Sabre listened, hoping he wasn’t going to suggest Carla be moved. She knew it would devastate Carla. “What are you proposing, Doctor?”
“Well, we don’t know how long it’ll take, but Dr. Hilton is willing to fill in for as long as he can and Dr. Steele has agreed to work with us. But I’ll need your help also.”
“I’ll do whatever I can,” Sabre said.
“Here’s what I propose. I believe we can help Carla deal with reality by bringing Dr. Steele into therapy with her. I’ll make sure she’s fully prepared beforehand. As she gets to know him, she’ll see lots of similarities, but she’ll also begin to see the differences. I don’t think it’ll take too long before he can fill his role as doctor. Once he’s back here working, it’ll help her even further to realize he’s not Ron. The first sessions will be rough on her, though, and I’d like you to be there for her. She trusts you and draws strength from you. I think it’ll help her to see reality through your behavior.”
“You really think so?”
“I do. Carla was pretty well-grounded before this happened. Oh, she had a way to go, but this is the last big piece we need to deal with. I think it may be a blessing in disguise. She may even be able to build on it and restore some peace of mind. I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think it would be helpful. As much as I respect Dr. Steele, we can always hire another doctor. There’s only one Carla. More importantly, if we don’t deal with this and she happens to meet him on a street somewhere, we could lose her.”
“So when do we start?”
“I need a little time to prepare her. I’ll have to see how it goes. My guess is we should be ready in a week or so. I want to start as quickly as we can, but I want to make sure she’s ready. By the way, do you have a photo of Ron I could borrow for a little while?”
Sabre reached in her briefcase and pulled out a photo. Without speaking, she handed it to Dr. Vincent. “Wow! They do look alike, don’t they?”
“I thought so.” Sabre stood up to leave. “You’ll let me know, then, when you want to begin?”
“Yes, we’ll be in touch. Thanks for your help … and for the photo.”
“Thank you, Doctor. I only want what’s best for Carla.”
“Me, too, and we’re going to do whatever we can.”
Sabre had just enough time to drive to her appointment with Dr. Steele. Seeing him still felt strange, but it was getting easier. Just as Dr. Vincent had hoped to accomplish with Carla, Sabre now saw more differences and fewer similarities.
Dr. Steele greeted her with a smile when she walked in. “Hi, Sabre, how’s the head?”
“I think it’s a little better today, but I’ve had some awful headaches since I left the hospital.”
“Let me have a look.” He examined the gash on her head, changed the bandage, looked into her eyes, and asked a lot of questions.
He had an exceptional bedside manner, easy to trust and talk with. She suddenly felt very comfortable in his presence, but was her comfort zone about Ron or Dr. Steele? She tried to separate the two.
Her thoughts were interrupted by another question, “Have you had any blurred vision or been seeing any spots?”
“No.”
“Good. You’re going to be fine. Just let me know if you have any of the symptoms we talked about or if the headaches don’t go away in a few days.” His manner was so “not Ron” that for a moment she could see Dr. Steele. He said, “Go ahead and get dressed.”
Her brow wrinkled, “I am dressed. That was my head you examined.”
He chuckled. “Just a little doctor humor.” Ron had returned, always the tease. If Sabre couldn’t separate Ron and Dr. Steele, how would Carla?
“I went to see Carla and Dr. Vincent today. He said you’re willing to help Carla through this crisis. That’s really nice of you.”
“Yeah, well, I’m a nice guy,” he said, the sides of his mouth turning up in just the slightest of smiles. His dead-pan look returned. “I just hope it works for her. Dr. Vincent asked me to read her file, to become familiar with her behavior and her history. He’s really concerned about what might happen to her if she accidentally runs into me. She already had a glimpse, nearly setting her over the edge … and look at your reaction.”
Sabre, still a little embarrassed said, “I’m so sorry about that. I must’ve looked pretty ridiculous chasing you down the hall, barging into the room and then, the kicker – fainting.”
“Hey, don’t be silly.” He smiled. “I’m used to it. It happens to me three, four times a day. It must be my dashing good looks and my charming personality.”
Sabre forced a smile. She wanted him to stop joking, to be serious. She didn’t like it when she saw Ron in him. She wanted to see Dr. Steele. When he teased, it just made her tense and confused. She’d have to overcome this, or she’d never be able to help Carla. “Well, I appreciate your willingness to help. I’m sorry for any inconvenience it’s causing you with your work at the facility.”
“Don’t worry. Dr. Hilton understands and is willing to help out. And there are others who can pitch in temporarily. I have plenty of doctor friends
who owe me favors.”
“I’m sorry you have to call them in for this.”
“Don’t be. I can’t think of a better cause.” For just a second, there was silence. Dr. Steele had a blank look as he studied her face. Suddenly, he stopped staring, stood up, closed his file, and said, “Make an appointment to come back in a week. I want to check the wound.”
Sabre arose to leave. “Thank you, Dr. Steele.”
“Corbin. The name’s Corbin. My father is Dr. Steele.”
18
Joe picked up the notepad he had obtained from Steve’s house. He opened it up to the page that read in big letters, “STERLING,” underlined twice, the way Steve often wrote the case name on which he was working. He read through the notes. As usual, Steve had left a few pages at the beginning he had titled “Suspects.” He would always write down names as he came across them and later go back and fill in the reasons why he thought they may or may not be involved as he proceeded with his investigation. The rest of his notes read like a diary, which made it easy to follow and included a lot of detail. He used to tell Joe to write everything down. “You never know when some little thing will trigger something. The thing appearing to be the most irrelevant often turns out to be the key to what you’re looking for.”
Joe read through the “Suspects” section with the usual suspects listed. There were friends and family members, including Gaylord Murdock and Ruby Sterling.
Ruby Sterling: Nervous old lady. Not likely involved, but may know more than she’s telling.
Gaylord Murdock: Nothing pointing to him – no abuse, no history, his whereabouts well accounted for. Could’ve hired it done. Has the means but no obvious motive.
Elizabeth Sterling: Could’ve run off with another man, but no evidence of it. Not likely she’d leave without the kid. No one saw her at the gym that morning. Her mother the last one to report seeing her.
Then amongst the notes he read:
July 9: Bill anxious to put this to bed, not sure why. I’m following up by myself tomorrow.
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