Remember Me (36 page)

Sister Theresa, a small, robust woman with a sweet Irish accent , approached Raidon and Cynne'. Looking at Raidon, she smiled and said, “Poor, sweet darling, she just can't stand the sight of snakes. One somehow found
its
way inside her class room one day last spring, perhaps little Danny had a hand in that as well, and the poor dear had to be driven home, she was so shaken up. Don't worry about Danny, his bottom won't cool off for two days after Sister Katherine is finished with him.” she chuckled, then excused herself to help the remaining teachers reorganize the rest of the children, who were all snickering.
Still holding the sniffling Cynne' in his arms, he looked down at her. “It's ok, that little snake was just as scared as you.” he whispered in a soothing voice as he took a tissue from his pocket. Gently, he titled her face upwards with one large hand, and began wiping her tears away with the other. “Are you alright now?”
She looked up at him, lips still trembling, and nodded. “I feel so stupid, I know I shouldn't react that way, but snakes, oh man, I'm terrified of them.”
He gave her a gentle squeeze. “No need to be embarrassed, we all have fears. Heck, I see a spider and I'm screaming like a girl.” he lied, trying to make her feel better. “If it was up to me, I would give that Howdy Doody looking little monster an atomic wedge, with a purple tittie twister for good measure.” he growled.
She giggled, wishing she could do the same. Stepping out of his embrace reluctantly, she took a deep breath. “Well, let's get this show on the road. I have to let the sisters know you're joining us.”
                    
************************************************
Grace sat, miffed at the fact she had been made to wait, even though the posh waiting area of the Johnson Law Firm was extremely comfortable. Glancing at Alex Caldwell, who was seated next to her, she thought,
Useless fool
. Then, with a smooth smile that betrayed nothing of her annoyance, she touched his arm and purred, “Alex, be a dear, go and fetch me some coffee, will you? And when you return, see what the hold up is here.”
Like a groveling servant, he scurried away to do her bidding.
He had been gone only a moment when she spotted a short, African American woman, dressed smartly in a black designer suit, marching into the waiting area with a handsome white man following close behind. The two were in the middle of some heated discussion.
“Damn it! You're purposely helping that scum you call a client, and I know for a fact you're keeping him from us just so we can't interview him. I want to talk to him, and I mean like FIVE MINUTES ago!” the man demanded.
The tiny woman whirled around, craning her neck to look up at the man, who towered over her. “Listen, Lamont, either charge my client with something, or you back the hell off!” she replied in a belligerent voice as she poked a finger in the man's chest. “You may be the police department's new golden boy, but you're wayyyyy out of your league when it comes to me. I don't frighten easily! I'm not one of those bubble-headed, cutie-pie meter maids who are always swooning and hanging on to your every word!”
Although the two looked like they were ready to do battle, Grace could almost feel the untapped energy flowing between the two.
If they aren't lovers, they will be, someday...
she thought.
The man, Lamont, grabbed the woman's arm as she turned to leave, and she looked back at him with hellfire and brimstone in her eyes. “Hey, why all the hostility? A little testy today, are we? You know what I think you need?” he grinned, then leaned down, getting in her personal space. “I think you need a good, loooong.....”
His voice was cut off with a howl of pain as the woman slammed her four inch Prada's on top of his foot. Hard. “You overconfident, Don Juan pretty boy! Touch me again and you'll be picking your spleen up off the floor.” the woman growled, but it was apparent to Grace's trained eye that the woman had been deeply
affected
by the man's words.
Shaking his wounded foot, the man gave her a rakish smile that would excite any woman. “You may be used to bullying men, having them falling in line for you, but peanut, now you're dealing with a determined man, a REAL man. When I finally nail that rich-boy freak you call a client, I'll be back, to nail YOU. In a completely different fashion, I might add.” he finished with a smirk and a wink. Then, laughing at the stunned look on the woman's face, he spun on his heels and walked out, adjusting his tie.
“I see Detective Lemont has thrown down the gauntlet.
No doubt you'll pick it up and beat him over the head with it.” the receptionist, a newly hired, attractive, young African American woman smiled as the tiny woman approached her desk.
“He just don't know who he's messing with! He thought I made his job hard before, it's going to be impossible now!” Trying to shake off the effect Brian Lamont had had on her, she got back to business. “Lacey, could you get me William Pullman's file? Give him a call, and tell him I want him here asap. No, scratch that.” she said as she held a hand up and thought for a moment. “Just tell him I'll meet him at his condo. Also, I have a hearing with Judge Rivers, I'll need to see the files before I see him.”
Nodding, Lacey turned and hurried off to do as she was asked.
At that moment Alex returned, placed a cup of coffee on the table in front of Grace, then approached the tiny woman as if afraid she would physically attack him. “Ms. Johnson, I'm Alex Caldwell. I retained you at the request of Granger Mortensen?” he said as he offered his hand.
Satin shook his hand, but said nothing, waiting for him to state his business.
Motioning to Grace, he beckoned for her to join them, which she did immediately.
“Grace, this is Satin Johnson.” Alex muttered.
“I need to speak with you.” Grace demanded in a tight voice, ignoring the introduction.
This ought to be good...
Satin thought sarcastically as she looked pointedly at her watch, then back up at the woman. “You'll have to make this quick, I have clients that I need to see. Next time call for an appointment, I don't like messing up my schedule.”
Grace couldn't believe she was being spoken to in such a rude manner, by some little worker bee. “Do you know who I AM?”
Satin looked at her from head to toe, clearly not impressed. “Yes, I do. You're the person who's wasting my time.” Turning, she stalked towards her office, thinking she really needed to work on her people skills. As her brother Storm had said time and time again, she would never win a contest for Miss Congeniality.
Flustered, Grace followed, with Alex following close behind.
Flopping down into her chair behind the massive desk, Satin began picking through her messages, only looking up when she heard her door close.
Grace looked around the office. Decorated in dark brown tones, the place seemed it would be more suited for a man than a woman. There was African and Native American works of art, and pictures and statues were all around the room. On the far wall a bookcase, which covered the entire wall, was loaded down with books, all except for the middle shelf, which held three framed photographs. Two older African Americans, a man and woman (who surely had to be Satin Johnson's parents), and a young, handsome man of obviously mixed heritage. Turning her attention back to Satin, she thought the young woman looked like a child behind her desk, and the illusion made her think she had the upper hand. After all, this girl was probably fresh out of school, and trying to prove herself.
“Have a seat, and tell me what you need.” Satin motioned towards two chairs, her eyes never leaving the woman's obviously nervous lawyer.
Once they were seated, Alex hesitated for a moment, then forged ahead. He knew he was skating on thin ice, but his memories of the previous night's pleasure spurred him on. The thought of having his way once again with Grace's firm, lithe body made him both delirious and bold. It had been a dream come true for him. “Mrs. Mortensen, Grace, here, is concerned about her son Granger, and she would appreciate you filling her in on any progress you've made.”
Impatiently, Satin tapped one of her long, red nails on the top of the desk as she sized them up like a predator would prey.
They don't know dick. This is nothing more than a transparent, weak fishing expedition…
she thought
.
“Mr. Caldwell, you're a lawyer yourself, and you know good and well that would be a breach of client confidentiality, and it could get me disbarred. The answer is, absolutely not. Period. I will not disclose or even discuss anything concerning my client. And to be perfectly frank, I plan on informing Mr. Mortensen about this little visit.”
Flustered yet again, Grace found herself out of her element. She was used to people bending over backwards to give her what she wanted. “Don't be a fool, dear. I know the Lieutenant Governor, personally, and I could cause this little firm problems, if I want to. I understand lawyers like you tend to help drug dealers and like-minded riff-raff, and if I told my friends of your unprofessional behavior, you could lose that little affirmative action law degree of yours in the blink of an eye.” she stammered angrily as she glared at her.

Satin's dark eyes seemed to turn into angry molten pools, and she stood slowly. Although she was short in height and slight in stature, she commanded respect by all who knew her, met her, or crossed her. “I don't give a good God Damn who you know.” she shot back. “You could be the Pope's long lost cousin, for all I care. So you know the Lieutenant Governor, big deal! As far as your hotshot friends go, when it comes down to it, when their asses are facing being someone's bitch in prison, they don't give a damn about you, they come to me. So take your petty threats and stick them where the sun don't shine. And Alex, you may want to begin considering a new career.” she finished as she marched around the desk, went to the door, and snatched it open. “Now, get your stuck up ass out of my office, before I
kick
your ass out,
GRACE.”
Dumbfounded and cowed by the little woman's fire, they both left quickly and quietly.
Closing the door behind them, Satin made her way back to her desk, muttering, “Bitch don't know who she's dealing with. Country club barfly! Assholes! You can't swing a dead cat around here without hitting an asshole!” Snatching her phone from the desk, she punched one of her speed-dial numbers and waited.
“Mortenson.”
Granger's voice answered after the fourth ring.
“Satin Johnson here.” she said, already in a foul mood and not bothering with the niceties. “Your mother and Mr. Caldwell just paid me an unscheduled visit.”
“What?” he growled.
“They wanted to know why you retained me. I told them nothing, of course. My advice would be for you to hire another lawyer to handle your business matters, Mr. Mortensen. The guy's a snake.”
“Consider it done.” he answered grimly. “Have you found anything yet?”
“I'm going to talk to your late father's former lady friend later today. I'll call you if or when I have something.”
“Very well.” he replied, then hung up.
Sitting back down behind the huge desk, she thought out loud, “So, mother Mortensen has a secret she doesn't want me to find out about, does she?”

                  ***********************************************

Brett held his aching side, and his face contorted with agony. Moaning as he shifted his weight gingerly in his king-size bed, he finally managed to make himself semi-comfortable. His anxiety had grown progressively worse as the hours ticked away, as he hadn't heard a peep from Cassandra.
She hasn't came by see about my welfare! She hasn't even called!
He
thought forlornly, then ground his teeth together furiously.
After all I did for her, this is how she repays my love and kindness?
Suddenly, he looked up to see Martina standing in the doorway, looking incurably sad as she gazed at him.
Stepping inside the bedroom with a tray containing a steaming bowl of chicken soup and a tall glass of ice water, she cooed softly, “Brett, how are you feeling, love?” Seeing him in such pain made her want to cry all over again, but she knew it would only upset him. “You poor, sweet, wonderful man.” she said woefully as she placed the tray on the bedside stand and reached down to caress his cheek lovingly.
He cursed as his body convulsed with pain yet again, making her flinch. When it finally subsided, he slowly and carefully propped himself up against a pile of fluffy pillows she had arranged for him. “The police didn't even arrest him, Martina. Can you believe it?” he whined, much like a child who didn't get what he wanted for Christmas. “The maladroit handling of my complaint was pitiful! No wonder crime is out of control, the incompetence is rampant! The Keystone Cops actually threatened to arrest me for filing a false report!” he whined again in a persecuted voice. “If I hadn't remembered that Granger look-alike you were screw......playing with here at the house, I would have fell into Mortensen's trap, the bastard!”

“I
know!
You poor baby!” she nodded in sympathy.
Leaning back and wincing, he closed his eyes for a moment and thought back to the moment the police had informed him Granger had not been arrested. When the two
detectives had came to confront him with the proof that Granger had indeed not attacked him, he had suddenly remembered the young male prostitute. Demanding that the house be dusted for prints, trace evidence and DNA was collected, from the rooms he knew the young man had been in with his cousin. When the prints led back to the young man, whose real name was Danny Brooks, he was arrested immediately, since he already had a record for prostitution, and assault. Of course, because the unfortunate man bore a strong resemblance to Granger, it led the police to believe that it had, in fact, been a simple case of mistaken identity. The only bright spot in the entire mess, he thought, was that his own reputation and credibility had remained intact. And it certainly didn't hurt matters that the same judge (his female patient) who had issued the arrest warrant for Granger, had issued another arrest warrant for the unlucky male prostitute. Glancing at Martina with his good eye, he gave her a hang-dog look. “I'm sorry, sugar-boo.”
“Sorry for what, sweetie-kins?” she smiled as she sat on the edge of the bed carefully and began spoon-feeding the chicken soup to him slowly, as if feeding a helpless toddler.
Swallowing the delicious broth, he replied, “I'm sorry I had to tell the police about your Granger look-alike boy-toy. But it was either him or me, tea rose.”
Leaning over, she placed a tender, lingering kiss on his forehead. “Oh, pooh, don't you fret about him. He was of no importance to me, just something to kill time. As a matter of fact, I'm still impressed with your brilliance. That was some quick thinking on your feet! I mean, under pressure, remembering that he not only looked like Granger, but that his fingerprints would be all over the bedroom and living room! If it had been me, I would have panicked. You're so clever, dear! Darn it! I would have loved to have seen the look on those cop's faces when they had to apologize to you.” she said as she ran one hand through his tousled hair.
Closing his eyes, he settled back deeper in the pillows, taking comfort in the attention his cousin was showering on him. He sighed contentedly as he felt her hands caressing his face softly, and the feel of her fingers running through his hair. He tried to forget about the unsettling fact that he had miscalculated, and that Cassandra was now lost to him forever. Something clicked in his mind at that moment, and he made his decision. Clear as a bell, his grandmother's words came back to him:
If you cannot possess the person you most desire, make sure no one else can, either. Never let anyone else best you, dear. Especially not a rival for romance...
The advice she given him had been when he was a young teenager, and he had been smitten with a lovely young black girl who was practically their next-door neighbor. But when his own feelings had not been reciprocated, he had felt the sting of humiliation, and finally rage, after she began flaunting the fact she was seeing another young man. He knew she had been
deliberately
tormenting him, and probably bragging to her friends about it, and laughing at him behind his back. But she had paid the price for daring to reject him, oh yes! He smiled softly as he recalled the way she had wheezed and begged, struggling for breath, as he slowly strangled her, draining the life from her body. Slowly. Now he would have to teach yet another woman what it meant to refuse him. It seemed to never end!
“Come here, pumpkin, Martina's gonna' make it alllll better, you'll see.” she murmured as she reached out and pulled him to her bosom, then began singing a soft lullaby as she rocked him back and forth carefully.
Smiling even more contentedly, his eyes remained closed as he sighed and buried his face in his beloved cousin's shoulder.
I'll kill Granger first, and I'll make Cassandra, that bitch, that...that TRAITOR, watch, too. Then I'll kill HER, slowly. Very, very slowly. After I have my way with her, of course...
he thought, then chuckled softly.
              
**************************************************
Cassandra looked up from her newspaper, watching as Granger ended his phone call, and noticed he seemed distracted. She knew it wasn't because of Brett's false accusations, because the Sheriff had returned hours later, practically tripping over himself in his haste to apologize, clearing him of any wrong doing. She didn't think the call he had just received was from someone in his employ either. No, it was something else altogether that was bothering him she thought, but decided to wait for him to tell her in his own time.
“Cassandra?” he called as he turned to look at her with a grave expression on his face. “I need to show you something, and I know it will be upsetting.” Opening his briefcase, he retrieved the paper work Raidon Bishop had given him, and handed the plain brown envelope to her tentatively. “I was going to wait and let the doctor tell you about this, I'm sure he could better explain everything for you, but after last night, well, I think you should take a look at this immediately.” Shoving his hands in his pants pockets, he waited for her to read the information.
Frowning, she pulled the papers from the envelope and began reading. The first page was what looked like a
breakdown
of a chemical compound. There was a long list of chemicals, but she only recognized two of them, one being Ketamine, and the other Jimsonweed. And she knew that both could be very dangerous. Flipping to the second, and last, page, she read:
Long term use of Ketamine can cause learning disabilities and impaired memory. At the high dosage found in the pills, delirium, amnesia, depression, and fatal respiratory problems could occur.
Jimsonweed: Taken in high doses, can cause hallucinations. Hallucinations that can often be more intense than those experienced while on LSD. Other side effects include mental disorientation, and extreme panic.
The combinations of drugs found in these pills have no therapeutic value whatsoever. In fact, the compound could be lethal. Because Ketamine is a Schedule 111 on the Federal Classification list, a copy of this report will be forwarded to the proper authorities. There are still other chemicals that have been yet to be identified, and a sample has been forwarded to the Virginia State Police for testing. It would be advisable for anyone taking these drugs to seek immediate, legitimate medical treatment.
Granger watched nervously as she reread the paper, knowing the betrayal from Brett was deeply
affecting
her. It had to hurt her. She had always been a trusting soul, and she had entrusted her well-being to the low-down, crawling snake for three years. And to learn the truth this way, and finally realize the full scope of the lies and manipulation, well, it would most likely devastate her.
We just can't catch a break, can we?
He
thought.
Folding the paper and taking a deep breath, she released a long sigh, then calmly put the papers back in the envelope. Grabbing her purse, she slid the envelope inside, and retrieved three bottles of pills. Putting her purse down, she made her way to where he was standing, and looked up at him solemnly. “Brett always wanted me to have them. When I go too long without them, I get sick.” she said quietly as she handed the three bottles to him. “Guess now I know why. I also know why my memories never returned.” she said as she laughed humorlessly. Feeling as if she had just received a punch to the gut, she felt nauseous for a moment, ashamed that she had been foolish enough to trust the man, and ashamed at the way she had taken his side, initially, over that of her own husband. She wanted to be angry with Brett, but couldn't summon it. She simply felt indifferent.
Well, it doesn't matter what he did. At least I know, now. And now maybe I can remember, that's the important thing...
she thought.
Loathing the man like never before for hurting such a sweet, innocent, trusting woman, his beloved wife, Granger silently vowed for the hundredth time to make the man pay dearly. Tossing the bottles on the sofa and not caring where they landed, he cupped her delicate face with both hands, and peered at her intently, making her stomach flutter. “Cass, I know this is upsetting, and you're feeling a bit overwhelmed at the moment, but just be patient. And I want you to know you're surrounded by people who love you dearly, and we're all pulling for you.”
Lifting both her hands in the air, she began caressing his hands. Even though she knew she had every right to be feeling angry and hurt, all she could concentrate on was the feeling of comfort she had at the moment, from his mere presence.
“We'll get through this my love.” he murmured.
Favoring him with a heart-melting smile, she said nothing, and instead took one of his hands in hers and kissed the back of it.
Looking directly in her eyes, he said, “If you give me a just a liiiiitle bigger smile on that lovely face of yours, I'll give a big surprise.” he teased.
Giving him a smile like a ray of sunshine, her brown eyes began twinkling as she giggled and said, “Here you go. Now...gimmie gimmie gimmie!”
Reaching in his pants pocket, he pulled out a small cell phone and handed it to her. “This is for you. All the important numbers are already programmed in, thanks to Malcolm. Your
number will show when you push 'send' twice.” he informed her. “Regan will be expecting your call around seven tonight.”
Clutching the phone to her chest, she looked up at him, her eyes wide with excitement. “Oh, Granger, I
can’t
believe it! I have a son, and I'll be hearing his voice! If only I could remember anything about my life before. I want to remember everything about him.” she said, then stopped and looked at him as a realization hit her, hard. Feeling a pleasant tingling that began in her stomach, she looked at him solemnly again, then said in a very quiet voice, “I want to remember
YOU
. What we were like. I want to remember your…touch. Granger, about Brett, I never...”
Thrilled at hearing her words, that she wanted to remember him, he placed a finger on her lips to silence her. “Sssshhh...that doesn't matter. I had no right to ask you that, and it was wrong of me to get angry. I'm truly sorry about the way I behaved, my love.” he mumbled as they gazed at one another, both of them forgetting and forgiving the wrongs of the past. Wrongs that neither one of them had had any control over.
Standing on her toes suddenly, she pulled his face down until his lips met hers, and he felt the blood in his body surge from his fingertips to the tips of his toes as her tongue sought his, then caught his upper lip with her teeth, nipping him, then kissing him again, deeply and passionately.
Granger felt as if a river of fire was running through his veins, a fire that was being stoked by a bellows. He wanted her like he had never wanted anyone, or anything, in his entire life. His hands moved down to her lush rump, cupping her cheeks, and he pulled her into his almost painful, raging hard-on, grinding it against her.
Surrendering herself to him completely, Cassandra felt a lurch of excitement within her as his strong hands kneaded her buttocks. “Mmmmmm....” she moaned deliriously as she ran her fingers through his hair.
Although he wanted to go slow their first time back together, he knew it was hopeless. He simply had to have her. Right now. Clutching the skirt she was wearing with both hands, he hoisted the garment up around her waist, and with one hand grabbed the lacy panties she was wearing and ripped them off, letting the torn material fall to the floor. His fingers made their way to her wet passage and slipped inside, and as he worked them in and out slowly, his lips brushed across her face, then he nibbled her earlobe and whispered in a lust-filled voice, “I want you, right now. Cassandra, I know I promised to go slow, but I can't wait any longer.”
Her knees nearly buckling from his assertiveness, all she could do was whimper and nod her head weakly. “Yessss....ohhhhh...yes, now...please.” she gasped as her eyes glazed over with pure lust of her own.
“Chief!!!” Malcolm's booming voice and the slamming of the suite door penetrated the sexual haze that surrounded them.
They both jumped apart quickly, behaving like two randy teenagers who had been caught doing some heavy petting by a parent.
Blushing, Cassandra quickly pulled down her skirt, hoping that Malcolm hadn't gotten a free peep show.
Granger quickly stepped behind her, in order to hide his embarrassing, still-raging hard-on. “Goddamn it, Malcolm! You ever heard of the concept of KNOCKING
before entering?” he growled as his assistant sauntered into the room.
“Well, hello there yourself. Me? Why, I'm fine, thank you for asking.” Malcolm blinked with surprise, just as his eyes drifted to the floor. It took every resource at his command to keep from laughing out loud as he spotted the torn, lacy white panties that lay on the floor at Cassandra's feet. A huge grin spreading across his handsome face, he stammered, “Oh...wow...this is awkward. Didn't mean to...uhmmm.....what can I say? So solly Cholly.” he finished, and unable to help it, finally succumbed to roaring laughter.
Blushing in confusion, both Granger and Cassandra glanced down at the floor to see exactly what it was that Malcolm found so interesting. And funny.
“Jesus.” Granger muttered as his face turned three shades deeper of red. He knew he would never hear the end of this, from Malcolm.
Horrified, Cassandra reached down and snatched the panties up, wadding them up in one fist and hiding them from sight behind her back. “Excuse me, I need to freshen up.” she mumbled as she quickly made her way past the still-laughing Malcolm, all the while wishing the floor would open up and swallow her.