Fractured Eden (3 page)

Stumbling over a box on the floor, he threw his hands in the air. “Hell, maybe moving here was a crazy idea.”

He opened the box and unwrapped a photograph of his parents. He propped the framed photo on one side of his desk, then sat and studied their smiling faces.

I sure do miss you two.

His eyes filled with tears as the memory of that night flooded back. A knock on his front door. “Are you Aaron Rovsing?” a policeman said. “Your parents have been shot by a robber who broke into their house. A neighbor heard the shooting and called us. We have the shooter in custody. We believe he’s hopped up on drugs.”

Aaron’s voice was raspy. “My parents, shot? Are they okay?”

The policeman shook his head. “I’m afraid not. I need you to come with me . . .”

Aaron lay in bed later that night, listening to rain pounding his roof and thunder shaking his walls, the windows lit up every few seconds by lightning. After half an hour or so, the lightning and noise subsided, and he drifted off to sleep.

Thunder was replaced by a booming voice. A man appeared out of a mist. “My daughter OD’d. You killed her,” the man shouted at Aaron. “It’s time to even the score, you bastard,” he said and swung a machete at him. Aaron lurched backward and raised his arm, impeding the man’s forearm, but the blade struck his lower left face, opening a deep wound that spurted blood like a fountain.

Aaron sat up screaming. He turned on a bedside lamp and looked around the room, sweat dripping from his face. His hand went to his jaw and sensed wetness but no painful fresh wound; his finger traced the deep, long scar from the machete. He examined the pillow and sheets. They were wet, not bloody.

Damn nightmares.

Aaron stood against the bed until his breathing slowed, then he walked to the bathroom and studied his face in the mirror.

I hope he’s still not after me. If he is, I’ve got to put up a better fight next time.

                                         
Chapter 3

“No, Doc. Those boots won’t do.”

Stella stood in Aaron’s office doorway shaking her head, her hands on her hips.  

Aaron glanced down at his new boots, and his face reddened. “I thought they looked okay when I bought them.”

“After work, I’ll take you to a decent boot store, and we’ll get you some good Texas boots. You want to look like you’re at home on a real ranch, not a dude ranch.”

Aaron stomped his foot. “Let’s do it.”

“I hope you have a pair of shoes around here.”

Aaron laughed. “I do. Now that you mention it, these boots aren’t very comfortable anyway.”

Stella snorted. “Honey, I’m surprised they’re still making boots that ugly.”

Aaron turned on his computer, opened up a daily medical news bulletin, and scanned a few articles.

“Shortage of physicians across the U.S. …”

“Americans are still too obese …”

He switched to a local news source, and the first headline read: “Local woman dies from overdose of prescription pain pills.”

His stomach tightened and he clicked off the internet. He sat back in his chair and gazed out the window. After a few minutes, he sighed and walked out into the clinic.

Aaron smiled as he entered the room of his first patient of the day. “Good morning, Ms. Brighton. I met you at the restaurant a few nights ago.”

“Please call me Marley, and do you remember Cristal?”

“I sure do. Is she sick today?”

“She came down with a fever last night, and sniffles, and coughing.”

Aaron examined the five-year-old Cristal. She smiled at him as he listened to her chest with his bright yellow stethoscope.

“That looks like a toy,” she said, pointing at the stethoscope.

“It works well enough for me, though. Now breathe deep in and out.” He completed a physical exam.

“I don’t find anything serious. I think she picked up a virus. Kids need to work their way through viral infections, you know. It helps strengthen their immune systems.” Marley helped Cristal down off the examination table.

Aaron sat at a computer terminal in the room and printed out a prescription for a medication. “This can help her congestion, if she needs it. Give her plenty of fluids and acetaminophen for fever or pain.”

Cristal looked up at him. “My daddy travels a lot.”

Marley stroked Cristal’s hair. “She hasn’t seen her father in a while.”

“He’s big and tall like you,” Cristal said.

“Come on, little one, we have to go now.” Marley took Cristal’s hand.

Out in the hallway, Marley turned to Aaron. “By the way, we’re neighbors. I live three houses down from you.”

“I’m happy to know that. I’ll try to be a good neighbor,” Aaron said.

“It’s a quiet neighborhood. Not much happens.” She and Cristal walked away.

Sometimes after people say that, things start to happen
. Aaron’s forehead wrinkled.
Now what put that idea in my head?

He and Stella stood in the front lobby. Through the window, he saw a potbellied man in a police uniform approach Marley before she opened her car door.

       “That’s our constable, Keller Greevy,” Stella said. “He’s got the hots for Marley and follows her around. Problem is, he’s married.”

Aaron whistled. “Oh, boy. That could be trouble.”

“He thinks no one notices, but it’s obvious to everybody.”

“Marley’s husband travels a lot?”

“Sure, he travels, with other women. Not long ago, he ran off with a sweet young thing.”

Aaron’s eyes widened. “He left Marley? Where did he go?”

“He and his girlfriend left town, but I heard they’re not too far away. He’s a creep and deserves a bad end, leaving Marley and Cristal like that.”

“Those are mighty strong words.”

Stella touched his shoulder. “Honey, it all comes around.”

They watched as Marley shook her head at Constable Greevy and stepped into her car.

Keller swatted at insects buzzing around his head, then retreated to the front wall of the building and stood with his arms crossed as Marley backed up and drove away. When her car was out of sight, he turned and walked into the clinic.

“So you’re the new doc. Welcome.”

Aaron nodded.

“I’m your constable. I try to keep the peace around here.”

“I’m sure that can be a tough job,” Aaron said as they shook hands.

“Some days are tougher than others, just like your job.”

“So there is crime in these parts.”

“Sure, like everywhere else. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have a job now, would I?”

Keller turned to Stella. “Have you seen Forrester?”

“No. He hasn’t come around here.”

“He can be a hothead. I wouldn’t be surprised if he comes in here with some kind of injury.” Keller returned to the front door. “See y’all later.”

“Who’s Forrester?” Aaron said to Stella.

“Marley’s husband, the creep that ran off with the pretty young thing.”

Aaron joined Stella and Juliana at the table in the lounge for lunch.

“I’ve been on the phone all morning,” Juliana said. “Patients are calling for appointments. The word is out about you.”

“You can thank me for that,” Stella said. “I told the whole town you were coming.”

Aaron smiled. “I appreciate that. Word of mouth still works, doesn’t it. We’re certainly off to a good start.”

“You don’t need to worry. You’ll do well here,” Stella said.

“How can you know that?”

Stella raised an eyebrow. “Trust me. I can tell.”

“The voice of an experienced nurse. That’s reassuring.” He looked down.
I hope you’re right.

“Here, you two, have some black people’s soul fruit.” Stella held out a plate piled high with watermelon slices.

Aaron laughed and scooped some on a napkin. “I now have a new appreciation for watermelon.” He swallowed the last bite of his tuna salad sandwich. “How long was the previous doctor here?”

“Less than a year,” Stella said.

“That’s not long.”

“He was smart but a little odd, if you ask me. His interactions with patients were awkward sometimes. He wasn’t always comfortable around people.”

Aaron chuckled. “Maybe he’d be better suited for pathology or laboratory medicine. In those specialties, a doctor can usually avoid direct patient contact.”

Stella nodded. “You may be right. Patients grumbled to us about him. ‘He doesn’t listen to me’ was a common complaint.”

“Thanks for the reminder. I’ll try to always be a good listener.”

“We’ll let you know of any significant patient complaints.”

Aaron coughed and his face flushed. A vision of the chief of the medical staff and that last meeting in Connecticut flashed into his mind.

“Is anything wrong?” Stella said.

       “No, I’m fine.” Aaron took several deep breaths. “By the way, is that why the last doctor left? Patient complaints?”

“I’m not sure. He seemed anxious about something the last few weeks he was here, but he didn’t talk to me about it. I had the impression that something scared him. One day he said he was leaving, and the next day he was gone.”

After work, Aaron followed Stella’s car to a boot store in nearby Beaumont. Along the way, he dialed the radio to a station he hadn’t heard yet. The DJ said he was playing some of his favorite Cajun music.

“Here’s Johnny Janot with ‘I’m Proud to Be a Cajun.’ ”

Aaron smiled as he bobbed his head to the beat.
Interesting sound,
he thought.

Aaron noticed a strong scent of leather as he stepped inside the boot store.

Stella walked up to a sales person with Aaron in tow. “This man needs a good pair of boots,” she said. “Can you show us some Lucchese?”

“You got it, ma’am.
Sir, just have a seat there, and we’ll fix you up real good.” He measured Aaron’s foot. “I’ll be right back.”

Aaron and Stella sat down in adjoining chairs. “How do you know so much about boots?” Aaron said.

“Number one, I live in Texas. And two, I used to help my husband buy them. I have boots of my own that I wear sometimes.”

After several minutes, the salesman returned with a few pairs of boots. “He might look good in these
Lucchese Destroyed Leather Boots. This here is the 1883 Antique Buffalo.”

“Lucchese. Isn’t that a foreign name?” Aaron said.

“It’s Italian, but Lucchese boots are handmade right here in good ol’ Texas, since 1883. So if you called ‘em Texas boots, you’d be speakin’ God’s honest truth.”

Aaron pulled on the dark brown boots with tan side scrolls and wingtips and pranced around the store.

He stood in front of Stella. “I like the way these feel. What do you think?”

“They look good. You should get ‘em.”

“So, 1883,” he drawled. “I could be right at home in the Old West wearing these.” He clomped out of the store in his new pair of boots.

“Now you look like you rode in from the range for supper,” Stella said. “You’ve just gone up a few notches in the eyes of Texans.”

“That’s great to hear.” Aaron walked in a circle. “These boots are really comfortable. I feel taller and stronger, like I could kick some butt. How about a beer? Let’s you and I raise some hell in the nearest saloon.”

Stella laughed. “Now don’t get carried away. I have to get home.”

“Okay, see you tomorrow, Annie Oakley.”

Stella shook her head and smiled. “No, I’m more like Calamity Jane.”

Later that evening, Aaron stretched out on his bed wearing only his boxer shorts and boots, his hands behind his head. It was the first time he’d thought about his previous house and restaurants and routine.

I haven’t missed my old digs. That’s got to be a good sign.

                                                       
****

Constable Keller Greevy braked his patrol car to a stop in his driveway. On his way home from the police station, he’d been thinking about a missing person report. A sixteen-year-old girl from a nearby town . . . no one had seen her for two weeks.

That’s the second girl gone missing in this area in the last few months,
he thought.

He walked through the front door and saw that the kitchen light was on. “Hello, I’m home.”

As he sat down in a chair at the dining table, his wife, Valerie, slammed down a plate of grilled chicken and green beans in front of him.

Keller lurched back. “What’s the matter?”

      
“I can’t take it. Everyone knows you like that hairdresser, Marley Brighton.”

“It’s nothing. Don’t you worry about it. Your friends gossip too much.”

Valerie stomped her foot. “You’re my husband. I won’t let another woman take you away from me.”

“You’re all upset about nothing. I have to watch her. Her husband, Forrester, is a loose cannon. No telling when he’ll show up again.”

Valerie’s thin lips twitched. “You’d better stop following her, or I might have to do something to make you stop.”

Keller stood up as she wheeled around and stormed out of the kitchen.

“Do what? You’re crazy,” he said. “Stop talking like that.”