by Saks, Tessa
“Yes,” Dr. Sutton said to both of them. “ You need protection from these bad people. Bad people whom you don’t know.”
“Exactly. They could be anywhere. I honestly don’t know who to trust anymore.”
“What about your husband, can you trust him?”
Sam turned and looked at Jonathan. She hesitated a moment before she spoke. “I want to,” she said softly, shaking her head. “But no—he might be helping in some way.”
“Jonathan—here—your husband, helping these killers?” Dr. Sutton pointed to Jonathan, who sat rigid in his chair with a sheepish look on his face, then shook his head and turned away.
“Well, I mean, not actually intending to. But if he doesn’t help me get protection, he’s helping them get access to me, making it easy for them. So yes, he helps them.”
“I see—so it’s difficult to trust anyone?”
“Yes,” Sam smiled. “Finally, you believe me.”
“Yes, I believe that you believe yourself to be in serious danger.”
“And in need of protection?”
“Yes. In fact, I recommend you get protection.” Dr. Sutton set his notepad down and stood. “Mrs. Horvath, can I speak a moment with your husband, in private?”
“Of course. Thank you, Dr. Sutton.” Sam jumped to her feet and wrapped her arms around Dr. Sutton, hugging him tight, his arms remaining glued to his sides. “I knew you would help.” Sam turned and kissed Jonathan’s cheek. “Listen to him. He knows what’s best for me.”
Jonathan didn’t smile but returned her kiss. “I’ll do whatever he says, dear.”
Sam left them and returned to the waiting room, relieved that finally she was understood.
After sitting for what seemed an eternity and reading three celebrity magazines, Sam looked up as Jonathan walked toward her. His face looked drawn and expressionless. Dr. Sutton followed him, placing his cold, bony hand on Sam’s arm. “Mrs. Horvath, will you please return to my office.”
Sam rose and allowed Dr. Sutton to escort her to his office, with Jonathan trailing behind.
“Mrs. Horvath, we’ve discussed the various options and have decided to provide you with a certain level of protection.”
“Great. That’s perfect.”
“We will need to do a deeper assessment at the hospital, but for now, we just want to do an overall health screening.”
“Health screening? But I’m not sick right now.”
“Yes, but we need to determine where you are now, in regard to your health.”
“Oh, in case they try something, and my health changes.” Sam nodded in agreement. “That’s actually pretty clever, I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Yes. Here are some forms for you to consent to my recommendation for treatment and protection.” Dr. Sutton slid a stack of papers spotted with colored labels for signing. “Shall I go over the forms in detail?” he asked.
Sam sat, flipping through the stack for a moment. “Oh no, I know I need this.” Sam reached for the pen.
“This is a legally binding contract that should be reviewed before signing. You need to be comfortable with the content.”
“It’s for twenty-four-hour protection? I would be protected by someone at all times and made to feel safe?”
“Correct.” Dr. Sutton nodded.
“And Johnny, you read it?” Sam turned to Jonathan.
“Yes, but it means you would be at a hospital, supervised at all times and would limit your ability to just come and go. It’s actually more than you need, in fact, I wouldn’t—”
“That’s fine. I want this. I trust you will do your best for me, Dr. Sutton.” Sam squinted at the forms, but refused to pull out her ugly reading glasses. She flipped to the signature flags, and started signing the forms.
“Ellen.” Jonathan grabbed the pen from her hand and pushed the papers aside. “You don’t need to do this if you would just forget about all this danger nonsense. I honestly think we should go home and think—”
“That’s exactly why I must do it!” She pulled the pen from his grip. “There is danger and I want to feel safe again. I don’t feel safe at home. No offence, but I don’t trust anyone. Now, give me those papers!” Sam pulled the stack in front of her and began signing frantically, not pausing to read anything. “You just want to ignore my problem—well, not this time.”
Jonathan stepped aside as Dr. Sutton co-signed the papers, then he handed the pen to Jonathan. “Ellen, I don’t want this for you, I think it’s better if—”
“Damn it, Johnny! I’m in desperate need of help and you can’t stop me,” Sam held the pen before Jonathan. “So sign it!” She pointed to the contract. He reluctantly grabbed the pen and began signing. When he finished, Dr. Sutton took the forms and placed them in his file.
He looked at Sam. “Good. Now, Mrs. Horvath, let’s go and get you set for your health screening and assessments.”
“Yes, right away.”
“I won’t be joining you, Ellen,” Jonathan said, his eyes downcast as he kissed her. “I’ll have Maria … uh, Carlos, send your things here.”
“Yes, I’ll put a list together of what I’ll need. Who knows how long I may be here.”
“See you soon, dear,” Jonathan said, turning to leave. “Dr. Sutton, take good care of her.”
“Bye, Johnny,” Sam called out as Dr. Sutton escorted her down the corridor to the hospital. “Where are we going first?” Sam asked with a smile.
“To a very safe and secure place,” Dr. Sutton mumbled.
***
“Jonathan, I didn’t want to tell you this, but I had another encounter with Ellen last week,” Ellen said, as she lay on the bed, staring at Solid Gold dancers gyrating to the latest hit on the small TV sitting on top of her dresser. “She accused me of being her again. It was bizarre.”
“She’s gone mad, I tell you.”
Ellen chose her words carefully. “Do you still think it’s best to continue to pretend that everything is okay—that you aren’t leaving?”
“I don’t know anymore. Every time I think she’s finally better, that maybe I should stay—she goes off and does something crazy.”
Ellen froze at his words—I should stay. I should stay! What is he talking about? Where would that leave me? Broke? Alone again? That evil soul has seduced you again. She wanted to reach into the phone and shake some sense into him. “Perhaps she won’t be so crazy if you were gone. Maybe she needs to know it’s time to move on, to accept things.”
“You haven’t heard the latest,” Jonathan said. “If it weren’t so damn idiotic, I’d howl.”
“What now?” Ellen asked, but she could well imagine the complete nonsense this vixen had come up with—yet another desperate ploy for attention.
“She thinks—no—she believes, that someone is trying to kill her.”
“What?”
“Yes. She knows the food poisoning last week was intentional. She fired Maria—”
“Maria? No. She couldn’t. She’s family.”
“Yes, she is—was. That’s what I don’t understand. She even thinks you’re behind it all.”
“Me? Why would I?”
“Well, not you specifically. It’s—now don’t get all upset—it’s your mother and Bob.”
“No? … Bob? Who—?”
“You know, your mom’s drug dealer boyfriend, who’s now back in jail.”
“Oh … yes, Bob. But that’s crazy. That’s a lie. My mother—she would never …” Ellen shuddered at the word mother. She had avoided any more phone calls from her—that strange woman with her melodrama. No surprise that her daughter would be capable of thinking that about her mother. But in a strange twist of irony, it’s actually their daughter they’d be killing, making this entirely too bizarre to comprehend. “And just why do they want to kill her?”
“To ensure that our marriage goes ahead as planned. Apparently they want my money.”
“She must be trying to deceive you, pulling a big drama just t
o get you to stay.”
“Nope, it’s real to her. She even went to the police—and hired a bodyguard.”
“Unbelievable.”
“Yes, and she hired a private investigator.”
“What for?” Ellen felt jumpy as her heart beat faster. “I mean, what could he do?” This is horrible, Sam might try to prove we aren’t who we appear to be and cause all kinds of trouble. Life with Jonathan would be lost for good. “She really has gone mad. What can you do?”
She heard his groan through the receiver. “I brought her to Dr. Sutton’s office. He listened to her, and frankly, the more she spoke, the crazier she sounded. It’s hard to watch her fall apart like this.”
Ellen smiled at the irony—Sam’s own greed biting her back. “What did the doctor say?”
“He thinks she’s suffering from delusional paranoia and possibly the start of schizophrenia. He has her booked for a stay at the psych ward to observe her for a while.”
“She agreed to that?”
“Yes,” Jonathan sighed. “Poor thing. If this weren’t so damn sad, it would be hilarious. Dr. Sutton said he would provide complete protection. She signed up for treatment as fast as the ink could flow.”
Yes, Ellen thought, poor little idiot has only herself to blame. Ellen imagined herself trapped in that horrible place. What if we somehow switched back? What then? Suddenly, this was a disaster. “She’s locked up? Jonathan, how could you?”
“It’s just temporary, until she calms down. She’s a total wreck. I’m having a difficult time with all this. Damn it all. I didn’t want to do it and tried my best to talk her out of it, but she insisted—and Dr. Sutton insisted. She imagines these crazy things.”
Ellen tried to make sense of everything. “How are Brianna and Brandon taking this?”
“Hard, very hard in fact. First the suicide attempt, then the crazy surgery and makeover crap and now this—it’s as if they have lost her—hell, I feel I’ve lost her.”
Ellen sat, quietly absorbed in thoughts of her poor children and what pain they must be going through. Her heart felt heavy as she imagined them visiting their mother in a mental hospital. “Wouldn’t the best solution for everyone be for us to be together right away?”
“Now? I don’t think that is a good idea.”
“It is. That way, there’s no chance of this so-called hit. Isn’t the whole point of the hit to get rid of me—um, her, to ensure we are together?”
“Well, she’s safe now and Dr. Sutton can work on setting her mind straight. There’s no danger, right? I mean, you haven’t done anything, right?”
“You’re accusing me?” Ellen lashed out. “Jonathan, I could never. And my family … they would never.” Ellen’s nose tingled as she lied. “I can’t believe you’d even think that of me.”
“Sorry, no, I don’t. I already lied to Dr. Sutton and told him that you swore to me you don’t know anything about this and that you never warned her or whatever it is she thinks might have taken place.” He let out a deep sigh. “I’m just so frustrated with all of it.”
“There is a solution right in front of you. You just can’t see it. If she’s that concerned, and it sounds like she is, ask her if she thinks you should start seeing me to call off the hit.”
Jonathan laughed. “Hell, I’ll try anything to end this insanity.”
“So, I’ll see you?”
“I’ll call soon. Let’s just take it easy for now.”
“Of course, whatever’s best,” she conceded. All this waiting was getting tiresome and frustrating. “I miss you,” she whispered, trying her best to inject sexiness into her voice.
Ellen hung up, ignoring the feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach. She sat, staring at the TV on her dresser. A cat was playing with a mouse, batting it around like a beach ball, tormenting it without mercy before, finally, devouring it. She jumped to her feet and shut the TV off, slamming the button with her fist. She should be happy having Sam safely tucked away, knowing she was losing both her mind and Jonathan in the process. Yet right now, she felt unsure of where any of this was headed—and who would ultimately be the victor?
***
Sam sat on the edge of the hard, plastic-covered mattress that made an irritating crinkle sound every time she moved, like rubber pants on a baby. She surveyed her new room. The cut flowers in the plastic vase were pretty and the furnishings were certainly nice enough, but somehow, it was still an uncomfortable room. Sterile and lifeless. The clock ticked in unison with her heart. Only two days in and being here was worse than anything she had imagined.
Wherever she was, she definitely did not fit in. Not only was she unable to close her door permanently and subjected to the continuous moans and cries of the truly insane patients, but the nurses expected her to follow the rules as if she were one. The nurses were nice, but they treated her as if she was an actual patient. Didn’t they understand this was just a cover to protect her? Hadn’t all this been explained to them? Another wail cried out. She certainly wasn’t a patient nor would she pretend to be one.
She glanced up at the clock above her door—almost dinner now. Her stomach turned as she imagined the horrific faces awaiting her in the cafeteria—the gross, the pathetic and the sad. Most of the patients mumbled to themselves and slobbered food everywhere, a completely revolting experience.
She needed to get out. Jonathan was wrong—bodyguards and a detective were the best solution. Yes, she was safe here, but she had no idea how boring it would be and that she couldn’t do anything. Nothing to do and no one to talk to. Who could she call? She had left a message for Johnny but he was away until Wednesday. She prayed he would hurry and call her back—and more importantly, get her out of here. What had she gotten herself into?
CHAPTER 28
After several days more days of torture, Sam realized she had to take control and stop all this nonsense, find a better way to feel safe. Jonathan and Dr. Sutton were convinced nothing more needed to be done, that as long as she was in here she was safe. Well, she may be safe but she was completely bored. She tried to make conversation with a few of the women. What a mistake. They spoke nonsense. Then they completely ignored her, like they had something better to do. Unbelievable. The best thing to do, she decided, was to stay in her room and ignore everyone.
Now all was quiet, except for the ticking clock and the distant cries. If she could get the hit cancelled, she could return home. She could go shopping, have parties, better parties, find new friends, perhaps take a trip to Europe—she had always wanted to see Paris and London.
She walked out into the hallway and put coins into the phone, then dialed the number. After several rings, someone answered. “Hi Mom, it's Sam.”
“Sammy. I haven't heard from you in ages.”
The sound of the familiar voice caused her heart to flicker. “Mom, it’s so good—”
“You sound funny.”
“I … I have a cold.” Sam tried to alter her voice as she crushed a foil candy wrapper next to the receiver. “Did Bob ever get that hit started?”
“Hit? What are you talking about?”
“You know. The night he joked about his friend … the one who does those favors …”
Silence. “The one who could fix things for us.”
Silence. A voice came over asking for more change. Sam dropped more money in. “Mom? You there?”
“Oh, I'm here all right and I hear just fine, too. You aren't Sammy, are you?”
“Yes. Mom, it's me.”
“Calling from a pay phone? Hell, I don't have to tell you anything. I don't know who you are, but you're not my Sammy, that's for sure.”
“Mom! Believe me. Something happened. I can't explain.”
“I'm not interested.”
“Just stop the hit Mom, That's all. Stop the hit.”
“What hit? You're crazy, you are.”
Sam tried to think of another way. “You'll help your daughter if you stop the hit.”
“Ohhh, s
o now you aren't Sammy?”
Sam's frustration rose. “You don't believe I am anyway—”
“I have nothing to say. Leave me alone.”
Sam tried to call back. No answer. “Damn it!” she yelled, as she slammed the phone back in its cradle. How could she reach her? How could she stop it? She thought of writing but her handwriting was so different from hers now, a dead giveaway. Typing. Yes, a typed letter would work. She could scare them into stopping, pretend she was aware of the whole plot and warn them to stop it before … Sam shuddered at the thought as she walked the long hallway, back to her dreary little room.
***
Hours passed and Sam waited until the night nurse, Margo, started her shift. She went up to the desk and chatted for a few minutes, then asked to use the word processor to send a formal letter to her banker. Margo agreed, even providing paper and privacy, as she had to do her rounds. Thank God for Margo, the only decent nurse of the bunch.
As she sat typing the letter, Sam realized how absurd the whole thing was. She was asking her mom to stop a hit on the woman she hated so much. Why? She wracked her brain trying to make the tone sound forceful.
Hi Mom,
It’s Sam. Something has happened. Something very scary. I can’t explain in person because they are watching me, but they are onto you. Remember when we were at the wedding? The police know all about the hit we talked and joked about. If anything happens to Mrs. Horvath, the police already know it was you and Bob. I didn’t tell them anything, but they know all the same. STOP IT!!! You have to stop it!!!. It would be DISASTROUS if anything happened, believe me. If you love me as much as I think you do, you will DO EVERYTHING IN YOUR POWER to stop the hit. And you TELL BOB I’LL KILL HIM if he doesn’t put a stop to it!!!!
Hope you are hanging tough. Hi to Benny.
Love and hugs,
Sammy XOXO
Sam printed several copies of the letter. She would send one to Rory and Benny as well. Anything to stop this dangerous hit. As the printer head clacked back and forth across the pages, she realized with much regret, she should have done this sooner. She also should have sent a bunch of money to her mom and Benny. Why hadn’t she? Oh, right, too busy feeling sorry for herself. When she gets out of here, she’ll do it. She’ll do a whole bunch of things … when she gets out.