by HELEN HARDT
“How exactly did she freak out?” the doctor asked.
“She went crazy. Screaming, yelling, pulling out a few chunks of her hair.”
“Brad,” my father said, “she acted like this and still you stayed with her?”
Yeah, not my finest moment.
“We hadn’t been together that long,” I said. “What should I have done? Abandoned her after she lost a baby? That’s not my style.”
My father harrumphed.
“Of course you shouldn’t have abandoned her,” Dr. Pelletier said. “But perhaps you should have seen that she got help.”
“I was seventeen. I didn’t realize she needed help. It wasn’t until later that I realized why she’d cracked. She hadn’t been able to manipulate the situation the way she wanted.”
“And you fear she’ll manipulate her way out of the mental health facility?”
“I know she will, if given the chance.”
“We don’t routinely strap our patients down unless they’re a danger to themselves or others.”
“Isn’t that why you were able to put her away in the first place?”
“Yes, of course. She can’t be in society in her current condition, but under supervision, there’s no reason to strap her down.”
“What about electroshock treatment?” my father asked.
I widened my eyes. Had I just heard him correctly?
“For what, exactly?” Dr. Pelletier asked.
“To keep her docile.”
“Mr. Steel, that’s not what ECT is used for, and frankly, its use is declining. It’s contraindicated in this case.”
“How much would it cost?” Dad asked.
I remained wide-eyed.
“I don’t think you’re hearing me.” Dr. Pelletier raised an eyebrow. “If your wish is to make her docile so she won’t be in control and finagle her way out of the facility, ECT will not have the desired effect. Even though it’s a stigmatized treatment, it works well for stubborn depression. It doesn’t make a patient catatonic.”
“What about that movie? One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest?”
“It’s called fiction for a reason, Mr. Steel.”
“What will have the desired effect, then?”
“Well…medication would be the way to go.”
“Perfect,” Dad said. “Drug her.”
“Mr. Steel, I’m a doctor. Unless Ms. Madigan shows symptoms of—”
“I’m not a patient man, Dr. Pelletier,” Dad said. “How much is this going to cost me?”
“Putting away a young woman who is stalking a young man and who pulled a gun on another is one thing. I may have overstepped my bounds a little there, but I can live with myself. Drugging her is another thing altogether.”
“You were paid very well for overstepping your bounds. You’ll be paid even better to do what I ask.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Steel. I cannot in good conscience—”
“In good conscience? You took my money in the first place.” My father cleared his throat. “Brad, step out of the room, please. I’d like to talk to the doctor alone.”
Seriously? “Dad, I’m an adult.”
“Brad.” He said only my name, but it was a command.
However, I was no longer a little kid who did everything his father said without question. I hadn’t been that person since I hit the age of ten.
“No, Dad. If this concerns Wendy, it concerns me. I’m the reason she’s a nutcase.”
Dr. Pelletier spoke then. “You’re not the reason for anything, Mr. Steel. If it weren’t you, it would be something or someone else.”
“What’s wrong with her?” I asked.
“I haven’t made an official diagnosis yet,” he said, “but even if I had, I couldn’t tell you. Doctor-patient confidentiality.”
“Brad, I’ll ask again. Please give me a moment with the doctor.”
“No,” I said again.
“All right.” My father cleared his throat. “You may as well know how this is done. You’ll have to do it one day yourself. More than once, I’d bet. Doctor, I appreciate everything you’ve done so far. I’m willing to offer you a million dollars in cash to make sure Wendy Madigan stays drugged up and out of my son’s life for the next year. We’ll renegotiate at that time.”
My mouth dropped open.
My father offered a bribe. A big-ass bribe. I’d known he was no saint, but this…
Still, I couldn’t bring myself to say anything. Wendy drugged out of her gourd was A-okay with me.
“Mr. Steel, I’m sorry. I can’t—”
Quicker than a flash, my father pulled a pistol from a hidden waist holster and pointed it at Dr. Pelletier’s head.
“What do you say now?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Daphne
Walk away, Daphne. Just walk away.
Whatever was inside this envelope was no business of mine.
Or was it?
I was Brad’s fiancée, after all—the future mother of his child.
And Wendy was his ex.
My hands trembled as I picked up the envelope.
Crap. It was sealed.
Walk away, I told myself again. You shouldn’t be in here anyway.
No, a better way to ask about Wendy existed. Brad’s mother was here. She seemed to like me. I’d ask her.
I found Mazie in the family room. “Where’s my mom?” I asked.
“She said she wanted to read. She’s in her room.”
“Oh.”
“Is there something you need?”
I paused a moment. “Yes, actually.”
“What is it?”
“I want to know,” I said, “all about Brad and Wendy.”
Mazie’s smile dropped. “I’m sure I can’t tell you anything more than Brad can himself.”
“He’s only told me that they were high school sweethearts and were on-again, off-again until he met me.”
“That’s about the extent of it.”
“If they were together that long, surely you’ve met her.”
“Of course I have. Many times.”
“I’m just curious. What’s she like?”
“She’s very intelligent. Very personable.”
I cleared my throat. “I should tell you. She came to my dorm room a few weeks ago and told me Brad would break my heart. Basically told me I should stay away from him.”
“Clearly you gave her warning no credence.”
“No. Not after I talked to Brad. But all he told me was the same old thing—that they were over.”
“My son is trustworthy. You should believe him.”
I want to believe him, but I just found a thick manila envelope with her name on it in his bedroom.
I couldn’t say that though. I couldn’t admit to snooping.
“It just seems like they were together for a long time,” I said. “He and I have only been together for a couple months, and now we’re getting married and having a baby. So naturally, I’m curious about her and the effect she’s had on his life.”
“My son adores you, Daphne.”
“I’m not questioning that.”
“Then why dredge up the past? Wendy’s gone.”
“Is she, though?”
“Didn’t Brad tell you?”
“Yeah, he told me she wouldn’t bother us anymore.”
“She won’t. That facility is the best place for her.”
I widened my eyes. “Facility?”
“Oh, he didn’t tell you, then.”
“What kind of facility?”
“A mental health facility, dear. Wendy pulled a gun on one of Brad’s friends. I think you know him. Sean Murphy.”
“She what?” I gulped. Goosebumps erupted all over me. “Is Sean all right?”
“Yes, he’s fine.”
“Oh my God, that’s why he moved out of Brad’s place.”
“That’s right. Brad didn’t tell you any of this?”
“No. He said Sean had to move b
ecause he could no longer pay the rent.”
“Brad didn’t charge him rent. Well, just a nominal amount.”
Why didn’t Brad tell me any of this? Silly question. I knew why. He was afraid it might send me over the edge, now that he knew about my past.
“Where is Wendy?”
“The facility is in Grand Junction.”
“That’s close to here.”
“It is, because her parents live here in town. But you have nothing to be concerned about, Daphne. She’s locked away, and she’s getting the help she needs. She’ll no longer be a threat to anyone.”
“Maybe she should be in a prison cell.”
“I can’t disagree with you,” Mazie said. “I never liked her much. Something about her always seemed a little…off.”
A little off.
How many times had students at my high school said that about me? Oh, they whispered it behind my back, but I heard them. I always knew.
“What seemed off about her?” I asked, not sure if I truly wanted to know.
“In some ways, she tried too hard to please George and me. I was actually gone for a while…”
Right. She’d been in a facility herself for a while. I wouldn’t bring that up, though. I didn’t want to break Brad’s confidence.
“Anyway,” Mazie continued, “she seemed almost obsessed with Brad sometimes. She hung on him all the time. I’m pretty sure they were having sex in high school.”
I knew this, but still, I hated hearing it, since the only person I’d ever had sex with was Brad, and he’d clearly had sex with many.
“Lots of people have sex in high school,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant about the whole thing.
“But you didn’t.”
“No, I didn’t.”
How did she know?
“Brad told me,” she said in answer to my silent question. “I hope that’s okay.”
“I have nothing to hide.”
Wow. What a big damned lie. I had a lot to hide. What would Mazie think if she knew about my junior year?
She’d been through something similar, so she probably wouldn’t judge me. Still, though, was I what a mother wanted for her son? An eighteen-year-old girl who’d been hospitalized and who didn’t remember much of it?
“I think it’s wonderful that you waited, Daphne. I waited as well. George was my first.”
“Oh?”
“He was. Of course back then it was much more common to wait. Now, it seems everyone’s in such a hurry.”
“Brad and I didn’t wait very long,” I said.
“True. But he says you’re special, and he’s right. I knew as soon as I met you.”
My cheeks warmed. “Thank you.”
“I know neither of you planned this baby, but I couldn’t be happier. To have a child around again will be so good for me. For George too.” She sighed. “We always wanted a houseful of kids. But it wasn’t to be.”
“I know. I’m sorry about that.”
“Maybe you and Brad will give us a houseful of grandkids.”
I stroked my belly. Had she forgotten I was only eighteen? “One, at least. We’re both so young.”
“Oh, take all the time you want and need. We’ll have one to dote on in the meantime.”
She was sweet, and she would have been a wonderful mother to a gaggle of kids. My heart hurt for her. She was going to be a wonderful grandma.
And I had to hand it to her. She’d effectively steered the conversation away from Wendy.
But I wasn’t done yet. I opened my mouth to say as much, when the phone rang.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Brad
“Dad!” I stood, my heart a mass of movement in my chest. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Sit down, Brad.”
I dropped back into my chair. What else could I do? I wasn’t going to try to take the gun away from him. We both knew how to handle weapons, but accidents could happen. I was going to be a father. I couldn’t take the chance.
Dr. Pelletier’s face went white, and he gripped the edge of his desk. “Mr. Steel, please. Put that down before someone gets hurt. You and I both know—”
“Save it,” my father said. “I know how to use this and can have a bullet inside your brain before you take your next breath. Tell him, son.”
“Leave me out of this.”
“Tell him!”
“He’s right. My dad’s a crack shot.” How well I knew. He’d taught me everything I knew, and I was as good as he was now. I’d proved it at the range.
Again, I reiterated my promise to myself never to teach another person how to shoot a gun. No way. I would not be party to any of this.
“No one’s here at your office this evening. I don’t even need a silencer.”
“Mr. Steel…”
“You’re going to make arrangements to keep Wendy Madigan so doped up that her brain can barely function. You got it? I don’t want to hear that she finagled her way out of that place. She’s a danger to my family, and I won’t allow it.”
“Mr. Steel—”
“If you don’t do it, I will put a bullet in your head. Not tonight, of course. But soon. I’ll put a bullet in yours and Wendy’s both.”
“You won’t get away with it.”
“Doctor, I assure you I’ve gotten away with worse.”
My heart dropped to my stomach.
He’d gotten away with worse?
“I tried to do this the nice way,” my father said, “with money. Now that offer’s off the table. You give her the medication, or you don’t live to see your next birthday. Your choice.”
“Fine,” Dr. Pelletier relented. “Only because I have a family and they need me.”
“Understood,” Dad said. “I have a family as well, and I’m going to make sure they’re protected from Wendy Madigan. That’s where you come in. You know she’s a dangerous person. I get that you think she can’t escape from the facility. You’ll have to trust my son and me on this. Wendy is capable of just about anything.”
“No one’s that smart.”
“She’s not just smart,” I said, finally adding to the conversation. “She’s shrewd and she’s cunning. I’ve had my lock changed half a dozen times, and she’s gotten into my home.”
Dr. Pelletier widened his eyes, shuddering. “Could you put the gun down now, Mr. Steel?”
“Fine.” Dad lowered his gun but didn’t replace it in the holster. “Don’t think we don’t appreciate this. You’ll be well compensated, once I see that you’ve upheld your part of the bargain, and no one will be hurt.”
“Except for the patient.”
“The needs of my family outweigh the needs of one mentally ill person,” Dad said. “She’s a bad seed. You’re doing a good thing, Doctor. Believe it or not, I don’t like pulling out my gun.”
Dr. Pelletier nodded weakly, saying nothing.
“Ready to go, Brad?” Dad said.
God, yes. I was more than ready. I still couldn’t quite wrap my head around what had taken place here.
“Good night, Doctor,” I said. “And thank you.”
Again Dr. Pelletier nodded.
“We’ll be in touch.” Dad walked toward the door. “Come on, Brad.”
I sat in a dive bar with my father. “I come here to think,” he said.
I never imagined my dad in a place like this. It was pretty quiet, though, situated in a seedy part of the city. A few regulars sat at the wooden bar. Dad ordered two whiskeys.
“Rotgut at its finest.” Dad took a drink. “Burns. In a good way.”
I took a sip. He wasn’t kidding. For a minute I thought I’d taken a drink of battery acid.
“I’m sorry you had to see that, son.”
I was still numb. “That’s not the first time you’ve done that.” A statement, not a question. I already knew the answer. My father had been way too comfortable to have never before been in a similar situation.
“Nope. And it probably won’t be t
he last.”
“So it’s true, then? Money can’t buy everything?”
“I won’t lie to you, Brad. Money can buy a damned lot of things. But when it can’t, a threat to a person’s life will get the job done.”
“You wouldn’t have…killed him. Would you have?”
“I haven’t had to take a life yet.”
I haven’t had to take a life yet.
Interesting words. They seemed to imply that he would take a life if he had to. I hoped like hell I was wrong in my interpretation.
“I meant what I said. I am sorry you had to see that, but you did have to see it. Do you know why?”
I shook my head. “I can’t even begin to imagine.”
“I won’t be around forever, son. You know my health situation. When I’m gone, you’ll be responsible for this family. Not just for your wife and kids, but for your mother also. My legacy will become yours.”
“I know that. I’m prepared to take all of that on.”
“I believe you are, which is why you had to see what happened at the good doctor’s office.”
I gulped down another drink of the burning liquor. It clawed down my throat, scorching a trail of ash in its wake. My father’s use of the words “good doctor” was blazingly sardonic. A good doctor wouldn’t have pulled strings with Wendy in the first place. When you’ve already sacrificed your integrity, it’s easier to do it again.
And again.
I regarded my father.
How far had George Steel gone? Doctor, I assure you I’ve gotten away with worse. Yet he said he’d never taken a life. What was worse than taking a life?
I suppressed a shudder.
“Are you saying I’ll have to do that someday?”
“Why do you think I taught you how to handle a gun?”
“Because it’s a good skill to have.”
“You’re right about that. I think I just proved it.”
“I want to be able to defend myself. Defend my family. I don’t plan to use a gun to threaten someone.”
“Don’t think of it as threatening,” Dad said. “Think of it as protecting your loved ones. That’s what I did. Wendy is a threat, and I protected you, Daphne, and your unborn child from that threat by making sure she’s kept drugged. You know as well as I do that she’d find a way out of that place if left to her own devices.”
