LETHAL OBSESSION

by Carey Regenold

  When Gene heard the man’s voice out in the waiting room, he cringed. Oh shit. He’d almost forgotten about that little deal. Stupid jackass didn’t waste much time getting over here, he thought. The whiny voice grated on Gene's nerves.

  “I need to see the sheriff, now.”

  Gene could see the unkempt man from his door that was slightly ajar. He wrinkled his nose and could smell his body stench already. Gene hated to bring him in the office but it didn't look like he had any choice in the matter. This was a private deal.

  The homeless, whiskered man was standing over the dispatcher in a threatening manner. With a sigh, Gene got up from his chair. Better get this bit of unpleasantness over with now, he thought. Gene walked to his office door with a clenched jaw.

  “Jason, get in here.”

  With a smug leer at the dispatcher, Jason walked through the door and Gene locked it. Without another word, the sheriff took out his wallet and peeled off a wad of bills. The street man looked at the money in his hand and scowled.

  “Dis ain’t enough. You promised me two hundred for the job. You owe me another hundred, Sheriff Stone. Hell, I did what ya asked, scared the bejesus out of that woman. Almost fell out of the damn tree to do it. Fork it over, Sheriff." He held out his grimy hand.

  With a tight angry face, Gene peeled off another wad of bills. Pushing them into the man’s hand, he said. “Okay, Jason, take it and shut up. Now get the hell out of here. And just as a reminder, I think you already know what happens to wagging tongues around here. Do we understand each other?”

  Jason gave a rotten-toothed grin. “Shore do, Sheriff. I ain't sayin nothin." He made a gesture of a finger raking his throat. "Ya don’t need to worry none bout ole Jason. He knows what he's supposed to do.”

  Gene closed his office door and waved a bandana around to disperse the sour body odor. "Damn," he muttered to himself. Using the cloth, he tried to wipe Jason off his fingers where the money was exchanged.

  Ellen sat in the kitchen, hands around her warm coffee mug. She stared out over the distant hills as the morning sun turned them from hazy purple to a dusty gold. After Gene left, she tried to go back to bed but sleep was impossible. Her conscience poked and prodded her until she finally gave up. Happy thoughts about the project went up in smoke. She had no idea how to even get started on her own.

  Ellen took another sip from her cup and shivered. Maybe Mark's death has finally sent her over the edge. She must be going crazy. Vivid flashes of memory pounded her senses. Why did she allow a married man to touch her like that? Of course Ellen was dreaming and thought it was Mark, but in her conscience that was no excuse. Drinking liquor and falling asleep next to Gene was her sin.

  Self-revulsion made her feel ill. How could she betray Mark this way? But Mark was no longer here to betray. So why did she feel so guilty like she had been cheating on him? Ellen ran a trembling hand over her face. She was not handling this widowhood thing well at all and did not need the additional burden of self-hate. Missing and grieving for Mark was bad enough.

  “I’m sorry, Mark. I'd like to find a nice man some day but certainly not one who already has a wife.” Her barely whispered words echoed inside her ears. She felt the warm tears and quickly wiped them away. “Get hold of yourself, Ellen. Just grow up and deal with it.”

  “Senora? Did you need something?”

  Ellen looked up in surprise, not realizing she had spoken aloud. “No Juanita. Thank you. I’m fine. I'm going to take a walk. Need to get some fresh air.”

  Ellen got up and headed for the bedroom. Pulling open a drawer, she slipped on some jeans and a sweatshirt. She grabbed a brush and ran it through her long hair peering closely into the mirror. The vision staring back looked haunted. Her fingers touched the dark circles around her eyes. She looked like walking death. How long was this agony going to last?

  Right then Ellen made a determined decision not to see Gene Stone again no matter what the circumstances. She would rather deal with a burglar herself. Ellen would get on with her life and it was going to start right this minute. Just as she was walking out the door the phone rang.

  "Anderson residence.” Juanita looked up at Ellen who shook her head signaling she did not want to talk to anyone.

  “Mrs. Anderson can no come to phone, Senor...I’m sorry. I don’t know...excuse me, Senor. I no lie.”

  Furious, Ellen took the phone from the Juanita’s hand. "Who is this?”

  “Ellen, it's me. I have to talk to you.”

  With a look of exasperation, Ellen walked out of the kitchen and out of ear shot. “There’s nothing for us to talk about, Gene.”

  “Look, Ellen, I don’t want it to be like this between us.”

  “There is no us, Gene. You have a very sweet wife. Your time and attention belongs with her. Don't call here again."

  “Ellen, I’m sorry about what happened last night. I was out of line. It won’t happen again. I promise. But please, don’t shut me out.”

  “Look, Gene, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me and I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but...”

  “But what, Ellen? Are you saying you don’t trust me?”

  “I’m saying I don’t trust you or myself and I need to be alone to grieve for my husband. Don’t call me anymore, and don't you ever call Juanita a liar.”

  Abruptly Ellen hung up the phone and rushed out the door. She walked across the manicured lawn, unlocked her security gate, and disappeared into the surrounding forest.

  The fall sky was a magnificent blue against a backdrop of blazing red, yellow and orange leaves. Ellen looked up into the tall trees and breathed in the sweet pungent smell of wood smoke from campfires and burning leaves. There was a nip to the air and she pulled the windbreaker around her.

  It was such a beautiful day here in the forest surrounded by the serenity of nature. Mark loved this time of year. It was why they decided to move here to the Smoky Mountains. Soon all the colorful leaves would be brown and dead. She and Mark always had a cheery fire burning as they sat cuddled on the couch, eating buttery popcorn and watching the lazy snowflakes float to the ground.

  The thought of a frigid winter alone in the chalet without the warm comforting presence of her husband brought the sting of tears to her eyes. Oh God. Life was so hard. She never believed anything could hurt like this. Looking up into the towering treetops and hugging herself, Ellen felt the desolation creep into her soul. Somehow, someway, she was going to get through it. She had to. There was no choice. It was hard for her to admit, but perhaps it was time to seek some grief counseling.

  Gene listened to the dial tone for a few seconds before he slowly hung up the phone. Losing Ellen was not an option. He began rearranging things on his desk as he thought about his next ploy. Ellen Anderson didn't know who she was dealing with. Gene knew once he made up his mind, come hell or high water he would get what he wanted. Perhaps getting her to see things his way wasn't going to be as easy as he first thought. Then Gene smiled. He sure loved a challenge to sweeten the pot. Ellen would belong to him sooner or later.

  Ellen went online and was overwhelmed with lists of psychiatrists who specialized in everything from obsessive, compulsive disorders to hallucinations. Good grief, how was she ever going to find a counselor that was right for her? Most of these listings were in Knoxville. Did she really want to drive that far for a counseling session? Cedar Grove was a small town. Surely nobody here could help her, but it was worth a look.

  Reaching for the thin, local phone book, Ellen looked in the yellow pages under Physicians. Richard Carrington, Doctor of psychiatry specialized in grief counseling. At least this doctor was local and his specialty suited her. She closed the phone book. Nope, can't do it, she thought to herself. Giving out intimate details concerning Mark and Gene to a stranger? Is she crazy?

  An hour later Ellen picked up phone book again. She book marked the page and walked away. It took several more hours to work up the nerve to call for an appointment but once done, Ellen w
as committed. At least a dozen times she called to cancel but stopped herself at the last minute.

  Sitting in the quiet, attractive office, Ellen had to force herself not to get up and run. There was no receptionist, just a waiting room with comfortable chairs, couch, and a glass top table. Tasteful periodicals were stacked in a rack. Ellen picked up a "Life" magazine and started thumbing through it. The information blurred before her eyes.

  With a pounding heart, she couldn't imagine what this experience was going to be like. True confessions was not her cup of tea. Would she have to lie on a couch? Would he have a beard and look like Freud? Would he take one look at her and consider her totally whacko? Ellen already thought of herself as whacko.

  There was a beautiful, natural planted aquarium in a corner of the waiting room flanked by blooming orchids. Watching the colorful fish swim amongst the greenery was almost hypnotic so she concentrated on the tranquil bubbling waters, ridding her mind of all else.

  The office door opened and Ellen startled and nearly leaped from the chair.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  "Mrs. Anderson? I'm Rick Carrington. Would you like to come in?"

  Ellen knew her mouth was hanging open. She found herself staring into the greenest eyes she had ever seen. He was so young, almost boyish in appearance. The doctor's smile was warm and genuine and his thick, sable hair looked soft and slightly curly. This man didn't look like a doctor at all. Dr. Carrington did not fit her idea of a psychiatrist. Clutching her purse against her body, Ellen got up on trembling legs and walked into the inner office trying to hide her nervousness.

  "Please have a seat and make yourself comfortable." He motioned to a leather chair next to his rather large, messy desk. "Would you like some coffee or maybe water?"

  Ellen looked toward the couch. "No thank you. Do I have to lie down?"

  "Not unless you want to."

  "The chair will be fine."

  Rick settled himself behind the desk and gave Ellen a warm, dimpled smile. "I get the feeling I'm not what you expected."

  "No, you're not at all what I expected."

  "Is that good or bad?"

  "Well it's good. You look young and..." she almost said handsome as her face bloomed with color.

  "Good is a good way to start. Can you tell me about yourself? Anything you feel comfortable talking about will be fine. Everything we discuss in this office is absolutely confidential. I will be taking notes and I hope that doesn't bother you."

  Rick leaned back in his chair relaxed and waited for her to start. Ellen looked down at her hands trying to gather her thoughts. Already she could feel her earlier anxiety melting away. She liked this doctor. It was crazy but Ellen felt recognition. Perhaps she had seen Dr. Carrington around town.

  "I lost my husband in a plane crash five months ago. Mark and I were very close and happy. It's been hard."

  "I'm sorry."

  Ellen could see it in his eyes. He was truly sorry.

  "I haven't done well with widowhood."

  "I don't know of anyone who would."

  Ellen noticed the photo of a pretty woman with two small children. Dr. Carrington had his happy family. Could he really understand what she was going through? The silence between them continued until Ellen felt herself beginning to fidget. He was waiting and she was at a loss for words. Why was she sitting here? Seeking psychiatric help may not have been a good idea.

  "I guess I'm wasting your time."

  "Not at all."

  He was probably used to crazy people taking up his office space with nothing to say.

  "Mrs. Anderson," Rick leaned forward over his folded hands. "You made this appointment for a reason. And no, you are not crazy or somehow a mental deviant for coming here. "You're in pain, a lot of pain. I know I can help you."

  Ellen looked at him as tears stung here eyes. Trying to hold back a sob, she said, "how do you know that?"

  "I just know."

  She wasn't sure what it was about this man that drew her. Maybe it was his youth or warm smile, but whatever it was, Ellen knew she could trust Dr. Carrington with the secrets of her innermost soul. She needed someone who could be objective and hear her out. It was time to open up and start telling her story.

  "I came from an abusive home but I don't think that has any influence on my present situation. I put myself through school, got my MBA and was proud of how far I'd come. Then I met my husband Mark, and life for me became more wonderful than I could have ever imagined. Losing him like I did, one minute here, the next minute gone, well it threw me into this weird place."

  He nodded and Ellen kept talking. "My husband died in a plane crash. This law officer notified me of Mark's death. Knowing it was illegal he fixed it so I could get into the crash site. After that he started calling and coming over a lot just to see how I was doing." Ellen saw a concerned look pass over the doctor's features but he nodded and said nothing. "We became friends and I started getting attached to him. Having a companion felt good. It was so difficult being alone. He didn't tell me he was married. I found out. Now he's saying he has feelings for me, that he loves me. I told him not to call me but he does anyway. I don't have a clue how to handle this."

  "How did you feel after you found out he was married?"

  "Betrayed, like he lied to me."

  "He did lie to you. A true friend would've included his family in the comforting process."

  "I know, and I thought that would be the end of it, but it wasn't. I don't want to see him, and I do want to see him. Does that make sense?"

  "Of course it does. Loneliness can make one do some very uncharacteristic things."

  Ellen couldn't help but notice his pensive, faraway look. It only lasted for an instant but it was there. If the photo was any indication, this doctor had a beautiful family. What did he know of loneliness? "Nothing has happened between us yet but it almost did twice. The first time I thought he was single. We were in a secluded place and we began to make love. I started crying and he stopped. He said I wasn't ready. The second time was just a few nights ago. I had a burglar trying to break in and I called him. He came over and we had a drink. I fell asleep on the couch and woke up in his arms in an extremely intimate position. I stopped it but I really feel stupid." Ellen pointed to herself. "This person is not who I am. Someday I hope to be able to love again, but not yet and not with a married man. I'm upset how this man makes me feel about myself." She looked at Dr. Carrington who was jotting down notes.

  "You already know what you need to do, don't you."

  "Stay away from him."

  "That's right."

  "That is easier said than done."

  "Why is that?"

  "He's powerful and can do what he chooses. When he wants to call or come over he just does it. I think he is watching my house. This man waits for me to go somewhere in my car and then he follows me."

  Rick wrinkled his brow. "I don't understand. Most men wouldn't do something like that if the woman discourages it."

  "Well, this man just happens to be our elected county sheriff."

  Rick's sudden, shocked paleness was not lost on Ellen.

  "I see."

  The doctor knew Gene and not in a good way, Ellen thought.

  "You know who I'm talking about, don't you."

  "Yes."

  "So can you still help me?"

  "I can, but I want you to believe in yourself and to know you and no one else, holds the power over your life. Quit blaming yourself for what has happened. Guilt is a very negative, damaging emotion. I sense there is a very strong, determined woman sitting here in front of me. I believe in you, Mrs. Anderson, and I believe you can accomplish anything you set out to do."

  "Thank you for those words, Dr. Carrington."

  "You are welcome, Mrs. Anderson. I'd like to see you back in a week. Is that alright with you?"

  "Yes, that will be fine." For the first time since she walked in, Ellen was smiling.

  She left the office feeling tons lighter. Ju
st by allowing her to vent, Dr. Carrington had done wonders for her. She was curious to know how he was connected to Gene. His reaction was too dramatic to be casual. To keep it all confidential, no names were mentioned between them and she probably shouldn't have said the word sheriff. But still she would like to know their connection. Actually it was really none of her business. Gene Stone was out of her life so it didn't matter.

  Under different circumstances Ellen would find Dr. Carrington extremely attractive. With his dimpled smile, and green eyes, this man was the hunkiest of hunks. And on top of that he was one of the kindest men she had ever met. Dr. Carrington also had a beautiful wife and lovely children. And finally, he was her shrink. Enough said.

  Muttering an oath, Rick Carrington slammed his fist down on his desk so hard that pain shot up his arm. Gene Stone was a textbook description of a sociopath. This man had an uncanny knack for destroying peoples' lives then walking away from the whole mess like his hands were lily white.

  Rick liked Ellen Anderson and this situation tampered with his objectivity. The smell of big money had Stone sniffing around this grieving, vulnerable woman. From what Rick could tell she was a decent human being and didn't deserve the misery Stone could inflict.

  Rick remembered reading an article about the owner of Anderson Enterprises crashing his private jet in the mountains. At the time, he felt for the man's family and now he was professionally involved. There had to be some way to protect Ellen Anderson from the likes of Stone. Professionally and ethically his hands were tied. All he could hope for was Mrs. Anderson's strength.

  Following a morning of shopping, Ellen opened the front door and walked into the foyer. The flash of brilliant red caught her eye immediately. There on the dining room table in a magnificent arrangement were two-dozen scarlet roses. Her eyebrows knitted in puzzlement. She couldn’t imagine who in the world would send her these. They were beautiful but it was too late to be sending flowers for Mark. She walked over and put her nose to the sweet fragrance. The card only had Ellen scrawled across the front of it. Opening the envelope she read. "Ellen, all I want is for your happiness. Please believe this to be true. If your happiness means me bowing out of your life, then so be it. I will accept whatever is your choice. I will always love you, Gene"