The House Across The Street

by Melanie Jones Brownrigg

  She sighs deeply and goes quiet. “Go on,” I urge her.

  “One day, Elena and Richard were paying more attention to each other during a surgery, than they were to the patient receiving a quadruple bypass. It was Elena’s job to keep count of the sponges used and to make sure the same count was removed. But like I said, they were too busy ogling each other and one was missed.” Rachel pauses for a moment and then goes into sponges. “The lawsuit calls them ‘retained surgical items.’ If left in, they can cause localized pain, discomfort, and bloating. In some cases, they can lead to sepsis or death. In Mr. Martin’s case, the foreign object became infected and, ultimately, he died. It was during his autopsy when the medical examiner found the sponge and ruled it as being the cause of death. Shortly thereafter, Mr. Martin’s wife hired an attorney and filed a civil lawsuit against Richard, the nurse, the hospital and anyone else her attorney thought they could list as defendants.” Rachel swallows hard. “At first, Richard thought he could simply point the finger at Elena and claim she didn’t do her job, which would leave his medical license with only a small blip, rather than being revoked. Richard still holds out hope that passing the buck to Elena will work for him … but only if I keep my mouth closed.” She draws a deep breath into her lungs, sighing it heavily out and then continues. “Richard knows I want out of our marriage, but he won’t agree to a divorce because of something I know. Until his trial is over, I’m stuck with him since a spouse can’t be forced to testify against another spouse, unless they are willing to. Richard has made it perfectly clear. I am not to testify against him … unless I want to end up dead.”

  “I see,” I say when Rachel pauses. “What do you know?”

  Rachel nervously licks her lips. “I overheard him on speakerphone. He didn’t think I was home, but I was. He was talking to someone in medical records and they were discussing some x-rays. When Mr. Martin began having complications, Richard thought he was just having a hard time recuperating. It was only after Mr. Martin became gravely ill before Richard ordered tests to take a closer look. The hospital uses Ray-Tec sponges. They look like a 4 x 8 piece of gauze with a blue string woven through it. The tiny string is the only part to show up on an x-ray. It’s very thin and extremely hard to see. In fact, the x-ray technician didn’t spot it. When the technician emailed the images to Richard, I overheard Richard talking to himself. He said something to the effect of, “My God, there it is. A sponge was left in.” Richard decided to keep his mouth shut and let Mr. Martin die, rather than admit the truth about the sponge, simply because it made him look sloppy in his job … which he was. He was afraid of losing his position and thought it was better for one man to die and for him to concentrate on how many lives he had saved. In other words, he thought the good outweighed the bad.” Rachel blew out a breath. “It was at this point when Richard heard me on the other side of the door. He confronted me about what I had overheard. I confessed to hearing everything and tried to convince him to go in and remove the sponge. I thought maybe by handling things in an aboveboard way, Richard could get past what happened. This was when he told me about the affair, and he admitted they hadn’t been paying close attention. Against my many protests, he still felt it was better to sweep things under the rug. Richard somehow managed to get hold of the original x-rays and destroy them. I suspect Damien Williams may have played a part in that endeavor, but it’s purely speculation on my part. Anyway, Richard felt assured everyone would think Mr. Martin, with age against him, died because his body couldn’t withstand the trauma of the surgery. He never expected Mrs. Martin to order an autopsy which ultimately revealed the sponge. And of course, initially, he thought if push came to shove, he could blame Elena for not counting properly. According to Richard, she’s turning against him to save her own hide and now he’s scared to death I’m going to do the same and open my mouth and testify against him. Currently, because of spousal privilege, I haven’t even been questioned. But he knows, if I am, I won’t cover for him. He’s scared right now. And in his mind, he believes if we stay married until after the trial I won’t be deposed. He wants you out of my life and he wants me to move back in with him and pretend to be the happiest couple on the planet. For months he’s reached out to Brenna and Catie, enlisting them in his endeavor, using them to convince me to go back to him. He paints me as being bitter about the affair and blames me for us drifting apart, rather than forgiving him for what he calls his worst mistake ever. In their eyes, Richard faltered once during our marriage and I’m being completely unfair. My friends continually remind me of all the wonderful years that Richard and I had together.” Rachel blinks a few times and sighs deeply. “If the civil trial goes badly for Richard, the District Attorney’s office is planning to file criminal charges against him for criminally negligent homicide. He could go to jail … but if it comes out about him knowing about the sponge and choosing to cover it up, he could be charged with manslaughter, and possibly be imprisoned for the rest of his life. The possibility has put an enormous amount of pressure on Richard and arguments between us have become progressively more hostile. A few times he has slapped me, claiming he was trying to knock some sense into me.” She closes her eyes for a moment. “But never has he tried to kill me … like I thought he might today.”

  Looking into Rachel’s scared face, I find myself too stunned for words and simply drag her closer to me and hold her head to my chest. “Oh, Rachel,” I finally manage in a soft tone.

  “There’s a prequel to all of this,” she says, surprising me, because what she said was a lot. “Throughout the years, I wanted to have a baby. The older I grew, the more urgent my need was. Richard always had an excuse as to why the timing wasn’t right. He was either busy studying for his medical license, or trying to complete his residency, or procuring a job, or busy in his profession. There was always something to delay having a child. I was having some serious menstrual cramps and my gynecologist changed my birth control. Accidentally I became pregnant. I was excited to death and hoped Richard would be convinced the baby was meant to be. He didn’t see it my way and ordered me to get an abortion. I refused and it was a horrendous argument. A few weeks into the pregnancy, there was a charity event for the hospital and much of the donations were going to the American Heart Association. Richard was expected to attend and, as his wife, so was I. Ready to leave, we were coming down the stairs together and, according to Richard I tripped over his feet, lost my balance and tumbled to the floor. When I landed at the bottom, I was disoriented, but still conscious. The next thing I knew, I woke up in bed and had supposedly lost the baby. I can’t prove anything, but I highly suspect that Richard purposely tripped me. And I believe he injected me with something to knock me out and then he performed an abortion.” Tears well in Rachel’s eyes and I hold her close again. “After that, Richard never touched me again. A few months later, he and Elena hooked up. According to Richard, but for my pregnancy, he would’ve never strayed. Therefore, he blames me for everything that started this whole shitstorm.”

  “I’m sorry,” I offer about the baby. I can tell she is still overly upset about the loss of her child. “Can I ask why you’re still on the pill?”

  She frowns. “After Elena turned against Richard and he was so adamant about getting back with me, I was afraid he might rape me. The way I see things now, Richard is the last person I would ever want to father my baby. It’s just a precaution.”

  I nod an understanding into her hair. “He may want me out of your life, but I’m not leaving, not with knowing he can cause harm to you. We just need to make sure you keep the doors locked when I’m not here and you need to be extra careful when you’re out alone.”

  Suddenly, Rachel is like a precious gift to my soul and I will not let anything happen to her. There is no way I am leaving her. And what I realize is … I am home.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Rachel

  If the judges got wind I had violated the gag orders, before they held me in contempt and threatened m
e with jail, I intended to present pictures of my neck and expose Richard for strangling me and inform them I was discussing my death threat with a police officer, which I was. As least this was what I had planned in my mind. In truth, I was unable to carry the burden anymore and needed a shoulder to cry on. Jackson seemed more than willing to oblige. When he pulled me next to him, I noticed his chest was strong and his shoulders were broad. And when he looked at me, his vivid blue eyes were filled with tenderness and compassion. For the first time, in an exceedingly long time, I was enjoying the warmth of a man. Though he was only soothing me at the time, I desperately needed a friend and it felt … loving. Each time he muttered into my hair and snuggled me against him, I wanted to lift my head and kiss him. My God, what was happening to me? This comforting feeling must be only my vulnerability. There was no way I was in love with Geico man. I needed to gather my emotions and put myself together. I needed to get out of Jackson’s arms. Distance was what I needed.

  “You must be hungry. Let me prepare us something to eat,” I suggested as a ruse to clamber from Jackson’s wonderful embrace.

  “No, I’m fine. Right now, all I want to do is make sure you’re okay,” he said in a deep, magnetizing, reassuring tone.

  “Oh, Jackson,” I heard myself moan in a low voice. Jesus Christ, what was going on in my head? Jackson wasn’t here as a … boyfriend. He wasn’t even here as last night’s date. For goodness’ sake, he was here because of his job. That’s right, Rachel, listen to yourself. A job. And then he’d be gone, and we would never see each other again. Besides, I didn’t want to jump out of one frying pan into the other. Jackson and I hadn’t even known each other a full week. I was only lonely and vulnerable right now and he was just there. Silly me. I simply needed to bury my vulnerability and stand strong.

  “Well, I need to use to the restroom anyway. So, while I’m up, I’ll cook us some supper.”

  Restroom was something no one would balk against.

  “Oh, well, okay,” he reluctantly agreed.

  He released his solacing hold on me so I could rise off the bed. My arms felt immediately cold and I held myself, trying to imitate the feeling. After using the toilet, I washed my red, splotchy face and examined the fingermarks around my neck. Richard was losing it and I needed to be careful. My heart broke for Richard. He had worked his whole adult life to get where he was. And he had made it, became exactly what he dreamed to be. It had taken a hard toll on him and a lot of strong dedication. I understood the journey he had traveled. Our marriage had seen his struggles and accomplishments. It was beyond sad for Richard’s career to hinge on one fatal mistake … a mistake weighing heavily on me. I wanted him to be able to get past it. But doing so meant I had to keep my mouth shut about the x-rays. It made me an accomplice. So far, I hadn’t volunteered to open my mouth, but Richard knew my conscience was getting the best of me. Today he toyed with the idea of shutting me up for good. In the end, he knew he had to plan better … make my demise look like an accident so as not to call attention. Yes, I needed to be extremely careful because of what I knew and what I might tell. It all came down to a sponge. If only he had removed it … if only.

  Chapter Forty

  Jackson

  It breaks my heart to release her and watch her leave the room. My arms feel empty without her filling them. As my eyes follow her perfect figure when she leaves the room, it comes as a big surprise to me to realize I didn’t make a move on her while she was right there in striking distance, and oh so very vulnerable. Sexual advancements were second nature to me, and I had refrained in favor of comfort. What is going on in my head?

  While Rachel is in the restroom, I first go to the window and check to make sure Foster and Hutchins are still at home. I spent a great deal of time comforting Rachel and am extremely relieved to see both cars in their normal positions. Next, I go to the kitchen and search the fridge. In a sealed container, there is plenty of roast and trimmings remaining for us to have a good meal. Pulling it out, I begin filling the plates. While one is heating in the microwave, Rachel comes in.

  “Oh, leftovers again?” she asks.

  “It’s easy. And after the day you’ve had, I thought it might be a relief not having to cook.” I give her a thin smile and she barely nods. “Besides, it’s the last of it and I’d hate to see it go to waste.”

  She prepares two small salads to go with it and I give her the heated one while mine is still spinning around on a turntable. While she makes us glasses of tea – yes, I’m a teetotaler at Rachel’s house, though I did notice she had a strawberry daiquiri last night – I wait for the beep and then pull out my piping hot dinner.

  We sit at the table and discuss Foster and Hutchins mending a fence.

  “Exciting,” she mocks, and I shake my head at her.

  “We talked to Mr. Cox after they left. He freaked out and headed for San Antonio to stay a few days with his daughter.”

  “Good,” she decides. “Now I’ll rest easier without having to worry about him.”

  “If it’s okay with you, Rob is coming over in a little while. We’re going to keep watch on the Foster house and see if they go out tonight and try something at Mr. Cox’s house. Mr. Cox left several lights on with timers set up. To Foster and Hutchins, it will look as if he’s at home. If they try to go inside, we’ll at least have them for breaking and entering.”

  “Of course,” she readily agrees to Rob coming over.

  “We’re going to watch the whole night. We may take shifts. He’s taking a nap right now. But if he gets tired, will it be okay if he crashes for a couple of hours on the couch?” I cringe at asking her because it sounds like Rob is staying here too, which he is, but I’m not going to put it bluntly.

  She hesitates for a moment. “I suppose it will be okay. I’d hate to think a killer got away because I didn’t make my couch available.”

  I give her an earnest look. “Thank you, Rachel. I do appreciate it.” I want badly to solve this case so that I’ll be considered for the next available detective position. If I am successful, I owe it all to Rachel. She is my rock right now and I am abundantly grateful.

  Rachel busies herself with a book while I stay glued to the Foster house. I so hope they make a move later tonight. My anxiousness grows, imagining catching them red-handed. We have already arranged for unmarked patrol cars to be in the area, just waiting to haul them in.

  “Rachel,” I call to her, interrupting her reading, “do you want me to wake you if we follow them later tonight?”

  She ponders the question for a moment. “No, between Richard’s visit today and you putting yourself into possible harm’s way, I’ll be too edgy to go back to sleep.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” I assure her, pleased to see she is concerned about my safety. “Rob will be there, as well as other officers.”

  “I hope this works,” she says to me with an optimistic nod.

  “Me too,” I agree wholeheartedly.

  She goes back to her reading and I go back to my watching. It seems doubtful for Foster and Hutchins to try anything until darkness arrives and most people are asleep. Still, I keep an eye on them.

  Around eleven, Rachel triumphantly announces she has finished her book. She stretches and then declares she is going to bed. Once she is ready, she comes back to tell me goodnight. She looks demure standing in front of me in a thick robe, bunny slippers and bruising around her neck. Rising from my chair in front of the window, I cross the now darkened room and pull her into my chest. “Goodnight, Rachel,” I tell her, holding her against me. I don’t dare dip my eyes to hers, fearing a kiss will follow. I have decided she is too special, and I will not be having casual sex with her. She is better than that. She is better than me.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Rachel

  Sleep had eluded me and from the dark recesses of my room, I could hear voices coming from the dining area. About an hour ago, Rob rapped softly on the door and it creaked open and then quietly closed. For a momen
t I considered being polite and going to say hello to him. Then again, this robe didn’t cover the marks around my neck. My thoughts rested heavily on Richard, wondering if he regretted what he had done to me. Or was he too absorbed in saving his own ass to care one iota about me anymore. My heart broke for what we once had. Our marriage was rewarding, but for the occasional spats about having a child. And then poof, it was over. But now, after today, I contemplated how far Richard was willing to go to ensure my silence. Scary thoughts kept me awake, tossing and turning and unable to find solace, considering what dark and sinister possibilities lay within my own husband’s heart.

  “They’re on the move,” I suddenly heard Jackson’s voice, followed by the sound of chairs scooting across the floor and a telephone call being made. My heart lurched, wondering if Foster and Hutchins were going over to Mr. Cox’s house. Were they intending to kill him? I held my breath, listening to every sound coming down the hall.

  “Take your night vision goggles,” I heard Jackson telling Rob.

  “Got ’em,” Rob replied.

  “I’m grabbing some water bottles,” Jackson said, his footsteps quickly crossing into the kitchen.

  A second later, footfalls headed for the door and the sound of the deadbolt echoed down the hallway and into my ears. Rob’s truck purred to life and Jackson’s pile of crap sputtered and coughed, the engine barely turning over. A moment later, everything was silent. And I was left alone.

  Nothing was changed from a moment ago, except Jackson was gone. My heart thumped and my gut wrenched for no reason at all, other than absolute fear gripped me like a vice. Many a night I had spent alone in this house. Nothing should be different right now. Richard wasn’t lurking outside in the cold night air. He wasn’t, I repeatedly told myself. I needed to get hold of my fears and stop being a baby.