Amnesia (25 page)

“Put the gun down now Paul!”

The man turned to look at Bill in a confused daze, as if in slow motion. At first he just stood there staring at Bill, then looked back down at the girl. Suddenly he broke into a deranged laughter.

Bill watched in horror at the finger slowly tightening around the trigger, gently squeezing the apparatus, and in extension Carrie’s life. He raised his own gun to the level of his eyes, and sighted down the barrel, holding the weapon in a double handed grip. He could feel the sweat dripping down his forehead and stinging his eyes.

“Drop the weapon now, Paul. Don’t make me shoot.” It was a bluff. He was restrained from firing that close to an innocent bystander, but he hoped Paul didn’t know it.

“Or what,” was the jeering response from his opponent. “You wouldn’t dare shoot at me, you might hit her!” Despite the bravado, however, Bill could see his finger backing off the trigger. But he also saw the rest of his body tensed.

“I said drop your weapon,” Bill demanded forcefully. He stood motionless just a few yards from his target, and knew from photos and lectures what damage his bullet would do. Yet he had never shot a man, and didn’t want to start now with his old friend.

“Oh, I see,” Paul spoke almost amiably, “she came up here for you. You two set this up, didn’t you? Now I understand what’s really going on. You wanted her for yourself, and got her to leave me so you could be together. That’s what this is all about.” He looked over at Bill, hatred showing blood red in his eyes.

“Sorry, pal, you can’t have her. She’s mine, Lowell. I will do with her what I like. You can understand that can’t you? I heard you killed your own wife.”

The boldness of the accusation delivered Bill a stinging blow, causing him to waver slightly in his stance. For a split second the .38 Special strayed, just enough to allow an opening. Paul turned his gun toward his old home teacher and squeezed the trigger, the semi-automatic spitting out burning death.

The first shot went wide, tearing a hole through the storage room door, embedding the bullet deep into the wood wall behind. Carrie screamed at the deafening roar of the exploding gun powder, and dropped to the floor out of harm’s way. Bill brought his gun back on target, knowing that it was either his life or Paul’s. He didn’t even think about the consequences as he squeezed his own trigger.

Bill’s shot was wild and hit high on the wall above and behind the door. He dove away from the danger, back toward the storage closet, and rolled back to his feet. He pulled the gun up again as another roar sounded and a plunk sounded behind him. Splinters exploded from the eroding wood, raining pin-pricks of pain on his exposed neck. Instinctively he pulled his head down and fired off another round at his attacker.

Paul screamed in pain as the bullet tore through the flesh of his left arm. It passed completely through the arm leaving little damage. Searing pain raced to his already fevered mind and he randomly fired at Bill.

Recognizing the hail of bullets for what it was, Bill blindly fired a couple of rounds to throw Paul off, and then shifted to evade the deadly assault. He decided to head for the cover of the stairwell—bullets can’t go around corners. He was too slow.

A bullet from the Desert Eagle found its mark, hitting Bill high in the chest, spinning him around with the strength born of the closeness of the shot. Pain exploded through him as he felt the jerk in his body. He unconsciously took a step away from his aggressor and lost his balance. He fell heavily to the floor, a new surge of pain rushing to his brain. He struggled against losing consciousness as the pain pulled at him, and tried to aim again at his opponent. He heard the laughter as he tried to right himself, the burning in his chest making it hard to breathe.

“I guess you were hoping that I would just let you take Carrie. You see what happens when you don’t keep her in line. She never did figure it out. Not even when she ended up with that broken arm. But now she will learn.” He walked over to Bill, kicked his gun out of his hand and cocked his own.

“It’s too bad really. I liked you Bill. But you can’t mess around with another man’s wife. According to the bible the price of adultery is stoning. Well your stone is a .357 Magnum bullet.” He squatted down, placed the barrel against Bill’s forehead.

“Don’t worry,” Paul almost whispered, “Carrie will be joining you soon.”

A shot rang out. Another soul wended its way to heaven.

*
             
             
*
             
             
*

Lissa paced the office floor in front of the aged desk, and the even more aged receptionist, fuming over the morning’s revelations. She felt like breaking something or hitting someone. Perhaps the man sitting behind the closed door guarded by the surly secretary.

“You may as will sit down Doctor,” the aide spoke, obviously unsettled by the palpable anger seething from Lissa. “He said he was not to be disturbed, especially by disgruntled employees.”

“And you can tell him that I will stay here until he sees me!” Lissa retorted hotly.

Too many things had gone wrong this morning, especially after the things which had happened last night. She was not about to be put off.

She decided to take things into her own hands, since the Hospital Administrator was cowering behind his rather severe assistant. She strode up to his door, neatly side stepping the incredulous woman at the desk, and barged in.

Before her sat a short, portly man dwarfed behind a huge though immaculate desk, poring over a stack of printouts. The office was fastidiously clean and organized, not a thing out of place, from the perfectly straight paintings adorning
three walls, to the small bookshelf whose books were all the exact same size, arranged alphabetically by author. Even the two wing back chairs were precisely placed equidistant from the desk in exact symmetry.

This man was obviously rather compulsive, which further emboldened Lissa. It seemed so incongruous that his life could be so obviously
well-ordered
when hers was so chaotic. She charged right up to the desk, ignoring the indignant cries of the secretary who had followed her into the inner office.

“Ah, Doctor Brandon,” he intoned smoothly, “what a pleasant surprise.” He calmly took his glasses off, folded them, and placed them carefully in the exact center of the papers he had been reading.

“I tried to stop her Mr. Lavant,” insisted the older woman. “I’ll call security immediately!” She reached for the phone sitting in front of her supervisor, only to have him push her hand gently away.

“That won’t be necessary Agnes. It appears that Doctor Brandon has something to say, and I doubt anything would stop her at this point,” he clarified resignedly. Lissa could tell that he was clearly not surprised, nor was he too concerned. He obviously knew something she didn’t.

“That will be all Agnes. If I need you, I’ll buzz,” he dismissed the gawking woman, and then turned to Lissa. “Won’t you sit down? Let’s see if we can all be civilized. That’s better. Would you like something to drink? No? Well then, what’s on your mind?”

Lissa’s anger wouldn’t be so easily mollified. “I think you know what’s on my mind. It appears that my medical license has been suspended, as have been my privileges at both St. Alphonsus and here at St. Luke’s. I’d like to know what’s going on!”

“Yes, I thought that might be what spurred our little visit. Well, as you know, the state controls your license, not me. You will need to take this up with them.”

“I already have!” she countered. “They told me that the request originated in this office. I would like to know why!”

“Please stop shouting Doctor. I would hate to cut our conversation short, but I insist that you remain civil. Yes, I made a phone call, but not even I can control the Idaho State Board of Medicine. I simply made them aware of certain, shall we say, incidents that have been brought to my attention.”

“What are you talking about?” His calm composure while discussing her career was infuriating her, and she fought to keep her emotions under control. It just didn’t make any sense.

“Well, we could start with the man that nearly died of a potassium overdose, something that has not been completely explained. Nor has the fact that you knew, without any evidence mind you, what the problem was. That’s quite a feat.”

“But that wasn’t…I didn’t…it was only…,” she sputtered, incredulous that the incident would have backfired on her. She didn’t have time to worry about it as Lavant bored into her with increased intensity.

“Then a man, someone with whom you have had recent contact, comes barreling into the same room with the patient, pistol whips a nurse, and disables a guard. A man with a long scar down his face? The man, according to the police, who goes by the name of Rudy Scardoni who has a long criminal history; including several murders, I might add. We caught the two of you together on a security camera, down by the staff elevators. Does any of this sound familiar?”

Lissa turned white at the revelation. She hadn’t known anything about her stalker coming back, let alone hurting anyone else. “Is…is the patient…okay?”

“Yes, Doctor, your plot fell through, although we aren’t quite sure why yet. We’ll find out. Oh, and while we’re at it, that mysterious patient you and your police officer friend admitted, the one that was beaten so severely, he was also moved to a more secure location—away from you and your ‘friend.’

“And let us not forget that a man died on your door step last night. It seems that people around you get hurt, Doctor. Obviously, we want to keep our patients safe, which means to keep you away from them.”

He paused a moment, letting it all sink in. Lissa in turn sat mutely staring at the man, her anger gone, replaced by fear and depression as she heard the summary, all of which was true. Tears threatened to escape as she realized that in his position she wouldn’t want her around either.

“Now I don’t know what your role in all of this is,” he continued more conciliatorily, “and I hope that it is truly innocent. If that is the case, once this is all cleared up, we will gladly reinstate your privileges, and make sure the record is expunged.” Then the hard edge returned.

“However, if you have anything to do with any of this, I will do my utmost to ensure you never so much as take a person’s pulse again. Not here—not anywhere. Now if you will excuse me, you interrupted something rather important.”

He picked up his glasses and resumed perusing the material on the desk, oblivious to the shaken girl sitting opposite him. Slowly she stood, mumbled a thank-you, and headed out the door. She completely ignored the unkind remarks thrown her direction from the administrative assistant, and headed out the door. She walked down the hall, still dazed at the comments Lavant had made, the pain in her heart threatening to erupt at any minute.

She was staring at the floor as she walked, and didn’t notice the approaching man until she ran into his chest. She looked up into the caring eyes of Darrion Stanton, the man who had comforted her so recently, asking nothing in return. Right now she needed comfort again, and here he was. She stood staring at him, undecided if she should run from him or beg him to hold her. In the end he made the decision for her.

Gently he slipped his arm around her waist and led her to the doctor’s lounge. There he turned and pulled her into a hug. Hesitantly she allowed his arms to encircle her, and allowed her emotions the release they sought.

“It’s been so awful,” she sobbed. “First my car, then that evil man, and then the shooting. Now this.” Her voice cracked as another series of sobs broke free. She continued to wet his shirt with her tears for a few minutes more then pulled back slightly. He walked her over to the bench and together they sat.

“What happened?” he asked quietly, gently prodding her to talk out her frustration.

“They took away my medical license,” she said painfully, tears still streaming down her face.

“Oh, no,” he commiserated. He handed her his handkerchief to wipe her eyes and face.

“This morning,” she confirmed, nodding. “I went into work, and the sheriff was waiting with a writ, so it would all be official. Right in front of Carla and all my waiting patients. It was so humiliating!”

“Oh, Lissa, I can’t even imagine!” He sat back against the cushion, and drew her into him, smoothing her hair down her back. “Did you talk to anyone at the ISBM?”

“Yes, they pointed me to Lavant. And Lavant just reminded me that everyone around me is in danger. Oh, Darrion, I don’t want people to get hurt. I just want to help!”

“I know, I know,” he soothed. “What are you going to do now?”

“I don’t know,” she confessed. “I guess I’ll go back to my apartment, I’ve got some…uh…friends there that don’t mind being around me.”

“Okay. But is that safe? After all, with the car, and the shooting last night, I wonder if you should be there at all.”

His words stung her afresh, which started more tears. He pulled her head down to his chest, and let her cry it out. Once she had again composed herself, he pursued the issue further.

“Why don’t you come out to the house until this all gets cleared up?” He could sense her hesitancy, and pushed a little harder. “It just seems that if the hospital, and even the police, are concerned, you should take steps to protect yourself. I just don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you!”