Beloved Physician (36 page)

Pointing to her blouse on a nearby chair, Cassandra said, “Take a look at that.”

Mabel saw that the back of the blouse was in shreds. She picked it up, looked at it, then set her eyes on the girl. “Oh, honey, if it weren’t for this blouse, the belt would have cut your skin. You would be bleeding profusely. I’m going to Marshal Jake Merrell and have him arrest that beast! Then I’ll go to Dr. Logan’s house and bring him here so he can treat those horrible welts.”

Mabel dropped the blouse back on the chair and dashed out of the room.

When Cassandra heard the front door slam downstairs, she smiled to herself. She would stay on the bed just as she was so when the doctor came, he would get the impact of seeing the horrible welts when Aunt Mabel brought him into the room.

Less than an hour had passed when Mabel returned with Dr. Dane Logan at her side, medical bag in hand. When he saw the welts he frowned. “My, oh my, girl.” He turned to Mabel. “You described these stripes perfectly. I’ll have to take a close look.”

While the doctor was examining the crisscrossed wales on Cassandra’s back, Mabel said, “Honey, I went to Marshal Merrell first. He’s on his way to talk to Kirby Holton.”

Cassandra nodded.

Mabel then picked up the blouse from the chair and dangled it in front of the doctor. “Take a look at this.”

Dr. Dane glanced up momentarily, ran his gaze over the shredded blouse, then went back to his examination. A minute later, he stared at the welts and rubbed his chin as if perplexed.

Mabel’s brow furrowed. “What’s wrong, Doctor?”

“I’m thinking about treatment. I have some salve at the office that should go on these stripes. I won’t be long. I know Cassandra can’t lie on her back, but I suggest that you cover her back with a clean sheet while I’m gone.”

Cassandra gave the doctor a wary glance as he left the room, carrying his medical bag. Mabel did not notice the look in her niece’s eyes as she walked to the linen closet and took out a clean white sheet.

While Mabel was covering her, Cassandra said, “Auntie Mabel, I’m going to take that beast Kirby Holton to court and sue him for assault and battery.”

“Well, we have a good attorney here in town, honey. His name is Lawrence Pettit. He has done legal work for me on a few occasions. With Dr. Logan’s testimony in court of what that vile brute did to you, and Mr. Pettit presenting your case, the judge will no doubt sentence him to prison for a long time.”

Cassandra smiled, feeling a great sense of satisfaction. “Mm-hmm. And maybe the judge will give me a healthy settlement too.”

Mabel did not comment. It bothered her that money was the most important thing in her niece’s life. She was absolutely obsessed with being wealthy. Mabel drew a short breath. “You want something to eat?”

Cassandra shook her head. “No, thanks. I am thirsty, though. How about some water?”

Saying she would be right back, Mabel made her way down the hall. As she neared the staircase, she told herself it was no wonder that Cassandra’s parents gave up on her. In her whole life she had never known anyone as greedy as Cassandra.

Moving down the stairs, Mabel said aloud, “That girl has such an evil spirit about her. Nothing I say seems to penetrate it. Lord, You know I want so desperately to lead her to You, but I’m not getting anywhere.”

As she reached the bottom of the stairs and headed down the hall toward the kitchen, a heaviness seemed to press against her chest.

Moments later, Mabel entered Cassandra’s room with a pitcher of water and a tablespoon. Since Cassandra had to lie on her stomach, Mabel used the tablespoon to drop the water in her mouth. When Cassandra had taken her fill of the water, she put her head down on the pillow and sighed. “Shouldn’t Dr. Logan be back by now?”

“I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” said Mabel, setting the pitcher and spoon on the dresser. She then moved to a chair that stood close to the bed and sat down.

When another fifteen minutes had passed, Cassandra looked at her aunt. “What do you suppose is keeping him?”

Mabel was becoming concerned. “I don’t know.” She rose from the chair and walked to the window that overlooked the front yard.

While she peered through the window, Cassandra said, “Any sign of him?”

“No.” With that, she turned from the window and began pacing the floor, wringing her hands.

Time seemed to drag.

When three hours had passed since the doctor had left,
Cassandra looked at her aunt, who was now back in the chair. “Auntie Mabel, I’ve had it with that doctor. I don’t want him treating me. And I sure don’t want him putting that salve on me that he supposedly went to get.”

“But, honey, you need that salve.”

“No. I’ll be all right without it. Whenever he comes back, just tell him he is not needed.”

At that moment, there was a knock at the front door downstairs. Mabel stood up and sighed. “That has to be the doctor. I want him to put that salve on you. I’ll bring him right up.”

As soon as her aunt left the room, Cassandra threw the sheet back and jumped off the bed. Her breath was tight in her lungs, and she was down to the bone in panic. Still having her skirt on, she quickly put on another blouse, slipped into her shoes, and hurried to a window that overlooked the yard at the side of the house.

She opened the window as quietly as possible, climbed out, and began inching her way along a narrow ledge toward the rear of the house, where she planned to drop onto the back porch, then swing down onto the ground and run away where nobody would find her.

Downstairs, Mabel opened the front door to discover Dr. Dane Logan there with Marshal Jake Merrell. The doctor had his medical bag in hand.

When they stepped in at Mabel’s invitation, the marshal said, “Mrs. Downing, I had a long talk with Kirby Holton. He acknowledged that Cassandra had come to his house asking for money, but he swears he did not touch her in any way, and that he absolutely did her no harm.”

Dr. Dane spoke up. “Mabel, I believe Kirby. I am quite sure Cassandra inflicted those welts on herself.”

Mabel’s jaw dropped. Her body went rigid, and her eyes widened in shock. “
What?
Why do you believe him instead of my niece?”

“Let me explain. When I first laid eyes on those welts, I knew they were not like a belt laid to her back would leave if it had hit her hard enough to shred her blouse. There would definitely be blood flowing from the welts, and there would be blood on the blouse. The more I examined the welts, the more convinced I was that she had done this to herself.”

Mabel shook her head in disbelief. “Doctor, I—I can’t believe she would do that kind of damage to herself just to try to get even with Kirby Holton for not giving her any money!”

“Well, I’m quite sure she did. I used the salve I mentioned as a reason to leave the house and be gone for at least three hours. If somehow I’m wrong, I have the salve here in my bag. But I don’t believe there will be any welts on her back at all by now.”

“What? I looked at those welts and I felt of them! They are real!”

“I’ll explain why I was gone for three hours in a moment, ma’am. But let me tell you first that during that time, I talked to Kirby in the marshal’s presence. I’m telling you, he is innocent of these charges Cassandra is leveling at him.”

Mabel was dumbfounded. Hardly able to breathe, she said, “Tell me why you were gone for those three hours.”

“This is going to surprise you, Mrs. Downing,” interjected the marshal.

Dr. Dane grinned at him, then said to Mabel, “I think Cassandra has a rare skin condition called in the medical world
dermatographia
. I explained it to Marshal Merrell on the way over here. A person with this condition can actually draw anything they want on their skin with the blunt end of a pencil or something like it. This will appear to be a reddish purple welt, but whatever is drawn on the skin will completely disappear within three to four hours. I first learned of this skin condition when a circus came to town when I was a boy, and they had a man in a sideshow who could draw on his arms with a small stick while people watched.
He would let them examine the welts to see that they were real, then challenge them to come back in three hours and look at them again. When the people came back, the welts had disappeared.”

Mabel thought of how it had been three hours since the doctor had left and Cassandra didn’t want him to see her again. Her mouth sagged open. “Let’s go up to her room. I want to look at her back right now.”

The two men mounted the stairs with Mabel, walked down the hall, and followed her as she entered Cassandra’s room.

All three of them saw at once that Cassandra was not in the bed, but the side window was open, with the breeze flapping the lace curtains. They rushed to the window, and Marshal Merrell gasped as he pointed down at Cassandra, who was lying on the ground below, near the back side of the house.

“Oh no!” cried Mabel.

Dr. Dane whirled and ran toward the door, saying over his shoulder, “Help Mabel, Jake. I’ve got to get down there!”

Moments later, Jake Merrell and Mabel Downing came off the back porch and rushed around the corner of the house to the spot where Dr. Dane was kneeling beside Cassandra, who lay on her back, her neck twisted awkwardly. The doctor’s features were gray as he looked up at Mabel. “I’m sorry. Her neck is broken. She’s dead.”

Mabel’s knees gave way, and the marshal had to catch her to keep her from falling.

While Mabel wept loudly, Dr. Dane rolled the body facedown, stood up, then waited for Mabel to gain control of her emotions. This came within a minute or so, and then she said in a shaky voice, “You must be right about her self-infliction, Doctor. She was trying to run away.”

Dr. Dane nodded. “It appears that she was.”

Mabel swallowed. “She must have jumped off the bed the instant I started downstairs to answer your knock.”

“Mm-hmm. When she fell from that second-story ledge up there, she landed on her head. That’s what broke her neck. Let’s see if those welts are gone.”

Mabel and the marshal looked on intently as Dr. Dane knelt down, pulled the blouse loose from under the waist of Cassandra’s skirt, and exposed her bare back.

There were no welts.

Mabel gasped. “Doctor, you were right!”

“You sure were,” said Marshal Merrell in a low voice.

Mabel looked at the doctor. “I wonder why we didn’t hear her scream when she fell.”

Dr. Dane rubbed his chin. “She was probably so frightened when she slipped that it took her breath away. She must have let out a gasp, rather than a scream.”

Mabel nodded. “I should tell you that Cassandra got nervous when you hadn’t shown up in three hours and said she didn’t want you to see her again. I was to tell you that you were not needed and to send you away. Now I know why.”

Dr. Dane stood up.

Mabel said, “Doctor, Marshal, the only thing that girl loved was money. I’m so glad to know that Kirby Holton is innocent.” She frowned and added, “I think I know what she used to draw those welts on her back.”

“What was it?” asked Dr. Dane.

“I want to know, too,” said Merrell.

“I’ll show you. Would you gentlemen carry her body into the house for me?”

Trying not to do any more damage to the body, the two men carried it carefully into the house and placed it on the sofa in the parlor. Mabel covered it with a blanket. “I’ll have the undertaker come and get the body.”

Mabel then led them upstairs to Cassandra’s room, opened one of the drawers in the armoire, and took out the Chinese
backscratcher. “Here. This is what she used, I’m sure.”

When Dr. Dane looked closely at it, he noted the small spaces between the prongs. “Mm-hmm. This is indeed what she used to make the crisscrossed welts on her back.”

The marshal shook his head in wonderment. “I’m sure glad I didn’t arrest Kirby Holton.”

Dr. Dane grinned. “Me too. Well, I’ve got to get home. Mabel, I’m sorry for your loss.”

Merrell said, “Me too, ma’am. You have my condolences.”

She thanked both of them. Then the marshal said, “How about I stop by the undertaking parlor and tell Mr. Baldwin you need him to come and pick up the body?”

Mabel nodded. “I would appreciate that.”

When Mabel closed the front door as the two men were leaving, she wept silently as she returned to the parlor. She went to the sofa, pulled the blanket back from her niece’s lifeless face, and drew a shuddering breath. Her voice quivered as she said, “Well, Cassandra, now you know there is a God.”

A few weeks later

O
n Thursday, September 15, Dr. Dane Logan walked an elderly couple to the front door of his office after treating the woman for a skin rash. He told her to apply the salve he had given her regularly, and as they went out the door, he turned around and walked back in to the examining room at the rear of the building. Tharyn was doing some cleanup work at one of the examining tables, and Dane noticed that there were tears in her eyes.

He stepped up to her with concern showing on his face. “Sweetheart, are you all right?”

She looked up at him, brushed at her tears, and nodded. “I’m all right. It’s—it’s—”