by A. Turk
“My consults consider all aspects. I recommend where there can be improvements made, and then we determine how to improve your appearance and your life. I’m trying to help you find happiness. That’s our goal.”
Perkins pulled up her panties and jeans and tucked in her shirt.
He took out his black felt-tip pen and assured the patient that the marks would come off. He was with her for more than two hours, an unusually long first consult.
Garcia was turning on his charm; he wanted to close the sale. Using his eyes and body language, he overwhelmed poor Ms. Perkins. They talked about surgical options and a timetable. He convinced her to alter her lips and her chin.
Then he addressed her breasts. He carefully and slowly unbuttoned her blouse. He reached behind and with the skills of a surgeon unhooked her bra in a single motion. He laughed to himself. He could make $1 million teaching high school boys that trick.
After consideration, he determined that she needed a lift. His colleague Dr. Melvin would give her a discount with his referral. He gently cupped each of her breasts and raised them to where he thought they were appropriately positioned. He squeezed them slightly.
“See the difference? Now they’re perky.”
Perkins giggled under his touch. With the sale made and Perkins hot and bothered, Garcia changed subjects. They talked about Nashville and the fact he was new to town. At a break in the conversation, he asked her to dinner that evening. She jumped at the invitation.
He figured he’d try to expand the sale. “You know, Anna, you’ve got a beautiful smile. It’s a shame your teeth are so yellow. My partner, Dr. Nichols, can change that and give you the smile you deserve.”
She just couldn’t resist him. When she left his office, she’d signed up for a new pair of Garcia kissable lips, a new chin, and a teeth whitening by Dr. Nichols. The package deal price was $12,500. No need for a discount with this patient. They said good-bye and agreed they’d meet at Houston’s on West End at eight.
The rest of the day went like clockwork. Garcia had a procedure at three and another at five. By the end of the day, two more female patients were more beautiful and had been transformed by Garcia kissable lips.
Passing Nichols in the hallway, Garcia told him about his sale to Ms. Perkins. She was signed up for three procedures without a discount.
“That’s wonderful, Charlie. You’re learning the business side of the practice. We have a valuable service that women want, and most of our patients can afford to pay full price. If certain women can’t afford our services, then we’ll discount them slightly. I want to help as many women as possible. Even at the discounted price we’re making a healthy profit.”
At the end of the conversation Nichols reminded Garcia that they were scheduled to appear on Talk of the Town, a local morning TV talk show, the next day to promote Garcia kissable lips.
Garcia was glad that Nichols mentioned it, or he’d have forgotten. The two partners exchanged good-byes. The next morning the interview went better than expected. Garcia was not only his charming self but also vivacious. He overcame his tiredness. At the end Charlie Chase, the show’s host, thanked them and asked if they’d agree to come back on the show soon.
Over the next week, Garcia’s business increased by fifty percent. He was booked six weeks in advance for first consults. One of those first consults was Christy Howard, age thirty-six. She was a beautiful woman, and Garcia convinced her that he could make her even more beautiful. Her application stated she was a non-smoker and identified what medications she was on.
Business was good because the patients perceived him as charming and someone who could make them beautiful. Garcia’s ego grew with every ring of the phone.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
TROUBLE IN PARADISE
Sunday, April 7, 1996
Charlie was tired of listening to the broken record. Robyn was complaining again that they never went out.
“I’ve gone through all of these surgeries, and the only place I go is from here to the office and then back here to screw. The only time I get off my back in this place is when you demand to do it doggy style. I want to go out and have some fun. I want to go back on stage. I’ve got talent; you’ve insisted I did. Thanks to you I’m even hotter than ever, and you’ve got me chained to the bed.”
Charlie replied, “You know that I don’t use chains, but I do admit that I sometimes use handcuffs.
“I’ve explained we can’t be seen outside the office together, not yet anyway.”
“Who cares? What difference does it make? We’re both over twenty-one. Are you ashamed of me?”
This conversation was about to get out of control. Charlie needed to calm her down, so he turned on his magic: “That’s ridiculous. You’re my masterpiece. I’m proud of what you’ve become, but I can’t have that bitch Donna complaining to Nichols that the only reason I convinced him to provide free surgery was because you were my girlfriend.”
“I certainly don’t feel like your girlfriend. All we ever do is take out food and screw. I think you’re using me.”
“I need you to be patient just a little longer. Eventually we’ll reveal our love, and the office can know about us.”
“Why don’t I just quit, move in with you, and pursue my music? You’ve always insisted that I have talent.” Robyn whined, “I don’t want to be a receptionist. I’m a very talented singer-songwriter.”
“I don’t think that would be the best thing for your sobriety.”
Charlie learned almost immediately about Robyn’s twelve-step program; she attended three days a week religiously. She remained sober from all addictions, except one, sex. During intimate moments Robyn described her struggle with drugs and alcohol. They also discussed the temptations of the music business. Taking drugs and excessive drinking were just part of the culture. The same demons that inspired Robyn in her music haunted her as a person.
In advising Robyn about her career path Charlie was torn. He loved country music and in particular her voice, but he was scared of the risk of her falling off the wagon, which prompted him to say, “You’re better off behind a reception desk.”
Robyn was good at her job. As predicted, the patients liked her, and she was a successful sales tool. Several patients specifically asked for the same chin as Robyn, and Charlie had actually called her into several consults to argue the merits of the surgery. Even Donna begrudgingly admitted that Robyn had made the difference in several sales.
Robyn’s hand cupped Charlie. When in doubt the couple turned to sex as the best way to solve a problem or end an argument. She slid down to the bottom of the bed. The chocolate brown silk sheets made it easy for her to get into position. Charlie winced with pleasure.
“Hum,” he begged.
She began to hum “Yankee Doodle.”
After she completed two bars, she raised her head from under the sheets.
Having provided her services, she thought she could resume her complaining: “When’s the next time you’re going to New York? I’d love to meet your parents.”
“You, of all people, know I’m too busy at work right now to get away. The only day off I have is Sunday, and I need that day to spend with you and to recover from the rest of the week.”
Robyn didn’t like that answer and jumped up from the bed and dashed into the bathroom. After a few minutes Charlie knocked on the door. He hoped to kiss and make up. No such luck. She wouldn’t open the door. He was worried about what was going on behind that door.
He stood there a few more minutes, thinking about his next move. He was so fed up that he got dressed and left the house. If she was going to lock herself in the bathroom, what good was she to him? She’d been doing that a lot lately. He didn’t really care what the hell she was doing. He knew other women, and they could satisfy his needs with no strings attached. He decided to call Christy Howard, a fiery redhead he knew for certain didn’t dye her hair.
He changed his mind about calling and decided to just show up
at her apartment. It was Sunday about ten. He’d knock and see if she wanted to go to brunch or something. He preferred something, but he was also hungry.
He knocked five times before she came to the peephole. From the other side of the door he heard, “Charlie, what the hell are you doing here? I’m not dressed.”
“That sounds absolutely perfect. Can I come in?”
After a few seconds of hesitation, the door swung open. Standing in front of Charlie was a naked woman with dark red hair on top and below. Her bright blue eyes met his, and he stepped in the foyer and put his arms around her. She had alabaster white skin, which was only accented by her red hair. They disappeared into the bedroom, and for the next two hours Charlie forgot about Robyn Eden. Christy was not only Charlie’s lover; she’d soon be a patient.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THE DISAPPEARANCE
Monday, April 29, 1996
As usual, Davis was the first to arrive at the office. By seven, Bella and Sammie were hard at work. Morty slept in; he was entitled to a late start. He’d worked hard for more than fifty years, retired for two months to care for his ailing wife, Goldie, and returned after her death as Davis’s associate on the cheap. Despite his age, the old man was still brilliant and a great asset for Davis to have in his corner. At times he could get ornery. He missed his unchallenged right to smoke his cigars anytime, anywhere in the office. He was now on a very short leash with his doctor’s daughter, Liza, leading the way. He vigorously objected, but everyone tolerated his outbursts. Morty was admired and loved by everyone in the office.
Morty’s stated purpose in life was to train Sammie. He wanted her to be a better lawyer than either Davis or himself. The two worked closely together, meeting as often as school would allow to review the day’s events and to ponder the next day’s. He knew from hard work and diligence that she would be his legacy.
There was a sense of excitement and anxiety in the air as the team prepared for a trial, a wrongful death case. The first day of trial was only two weeks away, and there was still a lot to do. Davis represented Thomas Jackson, the surviving husband of Karen and father of Jimmy Jackson, age six. The proof would show that Karen died upon impact when the tractor-trailer struck their Volkswagen Beetle, but poor Jimmy lived three days before expiring.
Davis and Sammie were on their second day drafting jury instructions. Davis had eaten almost an entire family pack of peanut M&M’s. When Bella interrupted, Davis had a Tootsie Pop in his mouth. He always sucked them till the end, never chewed them.
“It’s Dr. Nichols and Donna. I told them you were tied up, but they insisted that it was important and can’t wait.”
Davis told her, “I’ll take the call but no more interruptions. We need to get this draft done, so we can move on to preparing my opening argument.”
Davis pushed the blinking button. “Peter, what can I do for you?”
“Ben, we’ve got a big problem. Our med count is off, and there’s a tank of nitrous oxide that should be full but is only three quarters.”
“Has this ever happened before?”
Donna answered, “In all the time that I’ve been here and in charge of the medication closet, it’s happened twice, and we determined both times it was a clerical mistake. This is different. The seal on the tank was broken, and that’s no clerical mistake. Also, since January and the addition of Dr. Garcia, we’re using different narcotics and other drugs that weren’t used in our cosmetic dental practice.”
Davis asked the obvious question: “Who had access to the medication closet?”
Nichols started to answer, “Well, four of us have keys …”
Donna interrupted, “That’s not true. Both Dr. Nichols and Dr. Garcia leave their keys on their desks all day, with their offices unlocked. Any employee could use them or even have duplicated them without either of them knowing.”
Davis knew Nichols could be lax, but he had a legal obligation to guard the contents of his drug cabinet and canisters of nitrous oxide. These missing drugs were a serious problem; a crime had been committed.
Nichols was one step behind Davis. “Do we have to call the police? These are controlled substances.”
Davis weighed his next words carefully. “Technically you’ve discovered a crime, and your DEA license is at risk. The problem is that your entire office would be suspect based on the information that you would report. The police would interrogate every employee, and it would affect not only operations but also morale.”
Donna suggested, “We’ll change the locks, and I’ll keep the only key.”
Davis didn’t like that idea. He offered another one: “That won’t catch your thief. I suggest we install a hidden camera and catch the culprit on video in the act.”
“Can we do that?” Nichols asked.
Sammie entered the conversation for the first time. “There’s no expectation of privacy in a medication closet. You couldn’t place a camera in a bathroom or even a locker room, but as the owner of the building and the employer who’s been the victim of a serious crime, you’d be within your rights.”
Davis added, “Then, when you go to the police, you’d have a solid suspect on videotape.”
Davis didn’t want to be the bad guy, but someone had to point out the obvious: “I’ve got to ask. Does anyone suspect Robyn in light of her history?”
An uncomfortable silence followed. Then Sammie asked, “How’s her performance and attendance? Any red flags that implicate her?”
Donna immediately responded, “Her performance is excellent. She’s busy ten hours a day. Hasn’t missed a day and has been late only once. My only concern is her private relationship with Dr. Garcia.”
Immediately Nichols defended the romance: “We’ve addressed your concern. They are adults, and as long as their relationship doesn’t affect their work, it’s none of our business, right?”
The question was directed to Davis, but Sammie answered, “Doctor, you’re legally correct, but that may not be the only consideration. You promised her sister, the senator, that you’d keep an eye on her. You’ve assumed a moral obligation for this vulnerable and impressionable young woman.”
Davis looked at his niece sternly. He thought she’d just overstepped her bounds even if it was a legitimate point. In so many ways she was just like him, and he liked that. She was straightforward and no nonsense. A discussion was warranted but not a scolding.
In a louder than intended voice Nichols challenged her: “What are you saying? Spit it out!”
“Let’s just say that Charles Juan Batista Garcia is no gentleman. He’s trouble, and Robyn Eden with all of her other problems doesn’t need him.”
Davis didn’t like his niece’s last comment. It was unprofessional. He wondered whether Sammie was jealous of their relationship and it was clouding her judgment. He moved the conversation back on track. Davis gave Donna the name of a surveillance company that Davis’s firm had used in the past. He suggested that they purchase a camera that had a motion sensor so the camera ran only when someone entered the closet. Davis reminded Donna that she would have to replace the tape every day or two depending on how long the loop lasted. He also suggested that they regularly check their med count so that if the count were off, it would narrow the scope of their review of the surveillance tapes. Donna agreed to assume responsibility for the surveillance. She felt that the missing drugs reflected badly upon her, and she wanted this problem resolved.
The company installed the camera in the medication closet the next evening. Two days later Donna discovered that the three-quarters full tank was now half empty. Someone had had a party.
Donna spent the next morning in her office, fixed to the monitor, expecting to discover their drug-stealing employee. She saw that at 5:10 a.m., the medication closet door opened, and Robyn Eden entered, attached a mask to the half-empty tank, and spent the next eight minutes breathing in the laughing gas. She had no idea that her actions were being recorded.
Donna reported her findings
to Dr. Nichols, who called Davis and arranged to have him confront Robyn at the end of the next business day.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THE JIG’S UP
Monday, May 6, 1996
Upon Davis’s advice, Donna asked Robyn to stay late to inventory the office supplies. They actually began the process waiting for Davis and Sammie to arrive. The staff left at their usual seven, but Nichols hung back so he could be present for the confrontation.
Just as soon as Davis and Sammie arrived, Donna took them upstairs to Dr. Nichols’s private office where he was sitting behind his desk. Davis assured everyone that he’d handle the meeting, and Donna left to get Robyn.
Davis brought with him a small combination TV/VCR, which he and Liza used on family vacations. Caroline and Jake sat in the backseat, and the TV/VCR was wedged in the middle front seat armrest and plugged into the cigarette lighter. Jurassic Park and Indiana Jones films made the long family car rides seem much quicker with the kids preoccupied. The TV/VCR now had another use.
When Robyn entered the room, she couldn’t hide her surprise to find a room full of people. There was no need for introductions. Davis had known Robyn almost her entire life.
Davis’s tone was anything but familiar when he addressed Robyn: “Ms. Eden, please sit down. I’ve been asked to meet with you because it has been discovered that you’ve taken company property and breached the trust that Dr. Nichols placed in you. Do you want to admit what you’ve done?”
The young woman looked frazzled. She tried to speak, but the words just wouldn’t come out.
Davis encouraged her to tell the truth: “I bet you’ll feel much better if you come clean.”
Robyn hesitated, then said, “I didn’t realize it was such a big deal. I bet I’m not the only one who took stuff.”
Now it was Davis’s turn to be surprised. The videos showed only Robyn’s theft. “Who else do you know is taking things?”