The Territory of Lies

by Ana Stone

  Sydney ran back to the bedroom, threw on a pair of jeans and took off her blouse, replacing it with an old tee-shirt that Blake had given her. The words, "shrinks do it in therapy" wrinkled across the front. She grabbed her phone and returned to the living room to find Senator Tyler sitting on the couch with his head in his hands.

  He looked up momentarily as she entered the room. She took a seat in the chair that was adjacent to the couch.

  "Doctor, what am I going to do?" Tyler sighed despondently, dropping his head back down.

  "I can’t tell you that," she replied softly as she access the record function on her phone and slid it behind a picture on the end table. "That’s something you must decide for yourself. I can only listen and hopefully help you to be able to reach that decision."

  He looked up at her with red, tear-filled eyes. "I once used to wonder about men such as Hitler, Mussolini−how they could close their eyes and go to sleep at night knowing the atrocities they had allowed to happen, the lives they had let be destroyed. Now, here I am, in that same position and I find myself asking, how can I ever expect to sleep again. How can I ever live with this?"

  Sydney consider it for a moment and then leaned forward. "Senator, I'd like to put you under hypnosis, like we did this afternoon. If you can go back to when this started, remember it clearly; perhaps you can find some clue as to how you became enmeshed, whether it was truly your choice. Perhaps we can find a way for you to extricate yourself from the problem."

  He did not speak for a long time then finally he nodded. It did not take long for her to guide him into a hypnotic state. When he was relaxed and ready she began. "You previously told me that someone at the first meeting told you that there was a way to change the opinion of the people concerning increasing the budget of the military."

  "Yes,"

  "Was the subject of subsequent meetings the same−the military budget?"

  "Essentially, yes," he replied. "Normally the subject of the budget would be mentioned. Especially in the beginning. But then it started to change."

  "In what way?"

  "He would start talking about terrible things−saying things like "suppose, hypothetically a bomb were to go off in, for example, a skyscraper in the middle of New York, or Los Angeles?" He would use different examples each time and after each example he would ask me what I thought the American people would think. If their lives were in danger, if there was no place that was safe, would they welcome the presence of the military on every street corner, in front of every building and in every shopping mall? Would they welcome a leader who wanted to close our borders, cut off trade with other countries? Would they then be so against increasing the budget if the President had the military standing guard over them to insure their safety?"

  Sydney thought about it for a moment then directed another question to him. "And these men−I believe you named a General and a man by the name of Greenland? Was there ever anyone else at these meetings?"

  "At the meetings?" he shook his head. "Wes and Greenland were only at the first meeting. I'd see them around, with the others. The General was always there along with – well, never mind. There are a lot of people in this, you see, a great many. If the American public knew . . . they wouldn't trust any of us from the city mayors to the President. We'd all be hanged at dawn. But the entire contingent never met formally. I knew who they were because I saw them with him from time to time. I didn't have to ask what it was about. I knew. It was just like the times I was with him. He would tell me what was going to happen−without actually coming out and saying it. It was always posed as a hypothetical situation, a 'what if.' But I knew what he meant. I just didn't want to believe that he'd go through with it."

  "You keep saying he," she responded quietly. "Who is this person?"

  "The devil!" his voice rose in volume and filled with emotion. "A demon from the blackest hell, a creature with no conscience, no compassion, no feelings. He− "

  Sydney moved beside the Senator as his breath became labored and strained. He pushed her away as she sat down. "He found out about the money I took from that – that damn hedge fund and used it against me."

  "He threatened you?"

  Tyler laughed harshly. "Oh, he's too smooth for that. He never comes right out and says anything straight. He implies and insinuates. But he made himself clear. He reminded me how my career would suffer, maybe even be over if anyone ever found out. How my wife and family would be cast out. How they’d lose their friends and social standing. How we’d be exiles in our own neighborhood. How our lives would be over."

  "He, you keep saying he. Who is this man?"

  Tyler fell back against the couch and breathed rapidly. Just as he opened his mouth the doorbell rang. Sydney whirled around to look in the direction of the door then turned back to Tyler, quickly bringing him out of hypnosis. "Senator, there’s someone at my door. Either you can wait in my study or you can remain here. The choice is yours."

  He looked from her to the door then over at the bar. "Can I have a drink?"

  She was not sure he needed more alcohol but at the moment she didn’t know what else to do. "Sure, help yourself." She jumped up and walked to the door. “Blake!"

  "You busy?"

  "Actually, I do have a guest. Bbut you're welcome to join us."

  "Your boyfriend? His tone was sarcastic.

  "Hardly, young man." Senator Tyler turned from the bar with a glass of Scotch in his hand and looked in Blake's direction. "Although that is a lovely dream for an old man. Please, join us. I was just entertaining−or should I say boring my lovely hostess with tales of her father and I in the old days."

  Blake walked in and extended his hand. "Blake Edwards, sir."

  "Good to meet you, Blake," Senator Tyler shook his hand. "Ned Tyler."

  Blake was experienced enough to hide his surprise at finding Tyler here. "A pleasure sir." He inclined his head then looked at Sydney. "I hate to intrude but I needed to talk to you about something. Do you think I could speak to you in private for a moment?"

  She looked from him to the Senator then nodded. "Why don't we go into the kitchen. Senator, if you'll please excuse us?"

  Tyler nodded and Sydney walked into the kitchen. "I didn't know you were so chummy with your patients," Blake said as soon as they were alone. "Isn't this a little unorthodox?"

  "According to who?" she asked, wishing that he had not shown up while Tyler was there.

  He looked away for a split second then back at her. "I don't know. But the point is−"

  "The point is," she interrupted. "Why are you here, Blake?"

  "Syd, I just−look, regardless of how things stand between us I just don't want to see you get mixed up in something that'll land you in trouble. I know the bureau wanted Tyler's files and there has to be a reason. Have you stopped to consider that he's probably being followed?"

  She inhaled sharply. "The FBI is having him watched?"

  "It's possible."

  "Then they know he's here!"

  Before he had a chance to speak she left the room and walked into the living room. She picked up her phone from behind the picture on the end table. “Excuse me," she said to the Senator as she dashed down the hall.

  Blake followed her as she went into her study. "What's that?"

  She whirled around, putting the phone behind her back. "What?"

  "That." He grabbed her arm and pulled it from behind her back. "What's going on, Syd?"

  "It's none of your concern," she said defensively. "This is a professional matter and I'm not disposed to discuss it with you. Also, I don't believe you have any right to ask. This is my home and what I do here is my business."

  "Then why are you acting so paranoid?"

  "I'm not!"

  "Oh, no?"

  "No!"

  "You know something, don't you?"

  "Know something?" she repeated and backed up. "About what in particular, or just about things in general?"

  "Cut the crap! Come on, Syd. Tyl
er's into something and you know what it is."

  "That's absurd!" she protested, turning her back on him.

  He stepped behind her and whispered in her ear. "Is it?"

  She looked up over her shoulder at him. "Blake, he's just a patient with a problem. That's all. And you know I can't talk to you about it."

  "I don't think that's all it is." He took her by the shoulder and turned her around. "And your eyes tell me I'm right. Something has you rattled."

  Sydney dropped her gaze. She wished she could tell him what she knew but she couldn’t tell anyone. And besides, you don't have any proof, she reminded herself. And without proof it's still just a story from a troubled man.

  "I'm just tired," she said at last. "That's all."

  After a long silence she looked up at him. His hazel eyes were filled with worry and caring and her heart swelled with feeling. At that moment, she wished he would put his arms around her and hold her. She wished she could put her arms around him. The feelings that had been building up for him over time came to the surface and she was shaken by it.

  He stared down at her in silence then nodded. "Okay, Syd, whatever you say. But when you get in over your head, you know where I'll be."

  "Yes," she whispered, "I know."

  "So." He gave her a strained smile. "I guess you better get back to your company."

  "Want to stay and have a drink?" she asked as she put the phone on the desk.

  "Okay, sure," he agreed after a moment. "But I need to make a pit stop. I'll be there in a sec."

  She smiled and left the room to return to the Senator. He was sitting on the couch, morosely nursing his drink. Blake walked into the room just as she was pouring a glass of wine. "Wine?" she asked, holding up the bottle.

  "Got any beer?"

  "In the frig."

  "I think I can find it." He started for the kitchen. The doorbell rang and he called over his shoulder. "I'll get it." He opened the door and looked at the tall dark-haired man. "Yes?"

  "This is Sydney Forrest's apartment, is it not?"

  "Yeah. I'm a friend of Syd's, Blake Edwards. Come on in."

  "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Edwards." The man smiled and walked inside. "My name is Adrian Zayne."

  Blake covered his surprise. Suddenly all three of the players in his little mystery were together in the same room. He closed the door as Adrian walked in and saw Senator Tyler suddenly turn white as a ghost. His drink sloshed out over the rim of his glass as his hand started to shake uncontrollably.

  Sydney noticed his reaction and ran over to him. "Are you all right?" she asked as she took the glass from his hand and put it down on the coffee table.

  Tyler didn’t seem to hear her. He just stared at Adrian like he was scared to death. Sydney looked from Tyler to Adrian to Blake then back to Adrian.

  "Adrian, what are you doing here?"

  "We were supposed to have dinner, were we not?" he asked as if everything were perfectly normal.

  She frowned for a moment. She hadn’t agreed to have dinner with him. “No. I don’t think so.” But as you can see, I have people here and−“

  "I can see it slipped your mind, darling,” he said with a smile and looked at Senator Tyler. "Ned, I must say that you do not appear to be at your best this evening. In fact, " he paused and looked at Blake and Sydney. "All of you seem a little−let me think, how can I describe it . . . uncomfortable."

  "Didn't you hear about the bomb in Akron?" Blake asked when no one else seemed willing to speak.

  "Yes, dreadful, isn't it?" Adrian replied and walked over to Sydney. "Darling, I can't tell you how much I've missed you."

  She drew back from him as he tried to kiss her and he chuckled. "Forgive me, I forget how shy you are−in public that is."

  Her jaw clenched at the remark. Blake wondered if Adrian Zayne knew that he had just struck a nerve. He looked at the man to see him smiling with apparent unconcern, cool as a cucumber.

  Sydney moved away from him toward the bar. "Blake, would you mind getting me a beer when you get yours?"

  Blake cut his eyes around at the people in the room then nodded. "Sure, I'll be right back." As he turned to leave the room he saw Sydney look at the Senator with a concerned expression on her face.

  More curious by the moment, he thought as he walked into the kitchen. If he was lucky, he just might find out what was going on between those three.

  Sydney sat down beside Senator Tyler as soon as Blake left. "Senator, why don't you let me take you to the guest room. I think you need to get some rest."

  Tyler looked from her to Adrian and blanched again. "No," he shook his head. "I think I should go."

  Sydney took his arm as he tried to stand and his legs gave out. "I don't think you're in any shape to go anywhere just now. Come, let me help you."

  Once she had him on his feet she steered him in the direction of the hall. “I’ll be right back,” she said with a look over her shoulder at Adrian.

  She took Senator Tyler to the guest room and helped him sit on the edge of the bed. "Can I get you something? A glass of water−anything?"

  He shook his head and refused to look at her. Sydney knelt in front of him and looked up into his lined face and frightened eyes as she took his hand. She knew there was something very wrong. He had taken one look at Adrian and looked as if he were going to have a cardiac arrest.

  "Senator, I really do want to help you. Isn't there anything I can do?"

  He was quiet for a long time and just as she started to stand, thinking that he was not going to answer, he squeezed her hand. "Are you involved with Adrian Zayne?"

  She immediately opened her mouth to tell him that her personal life was not open for discussion but something in his eyes made her change her mind. "He’s a casual acquaintance. Why?"

  "Then God help you," he whispered and released her hand to lie back on the bed. "God help us all."

  Sydney stood and looked down on him, confused and somehow frightened by his remark. For a moment, she debated whether to press him on what he meant then something he had said earlier came to mind.

  …those damn jungle cat green eyes of his…

  Her own eyes widened and she felt a cold sweat break out over her body. She hurried to the door, closed and locked it then returned to the bed. She sat down beside the Senator and leaned over to look at his face.

  "Senator, I have to ask you something and I need yu to be honest with me. Is Adrian Zayne the man you were talking about earlier?"

  Tyler actually jerked at the question and his eyes grew round and scared. Sydney held her breath as she waited for a reply. For several very long seconds he didn’t speak. Then he pushed himself up into a sitting position. "Dr. Forrest, I'm going to do you a big favor - give you the most important piece of advice you've ever been given in your life. If you're half as smart as I think you are, you'll take it."

  He paused long enough to take her hand. "Get as far away from Adrian Zayne as you can and don't ever let him near you again."

  "Why?"

  "Just take the advice." He released her hand and lay back down.

  "But why?" she persisted. "Is he the man?"

  Tyler closed his eyes and breathed heavily. "I think I need to get a little rest if you don't mind. I don't feel very well."

  Sydney considered pushing him for an answer, but inside she knew she didn’t have to. Adrian was the man he had been talking about; he was involved in what had happened in Ohio. She felt like she was going to be physically ill.

  God, what am I going to do? She didn’t have time to ponder the question. Blake called out to her from down the hall. She jumped up and unlocked the door. His voice triggered something inside her, something she had been running from for a long time.

  "Sorry," she said as she walked out into the hall and saw him at the other end. "I was just showing the Senator where he could lie down."

  "You're out of beer," he said as she walked up to him.

  "That's okay, I didn’t want one anyw
ay" she replied, wishing there was some way she could tell him what she knew. But there wasn’t. And besides she had no proof. All she had was the Senator's story and her own suspicions. That was hardly proof.

  Blake looked down at her with a puzzled expression. So that he would not see the confusion and fear in her face she dropped her eyes as she gave his hand a squeeze in passing and returned to the living room.

  Adrian turned toward her from his seat as she entered. "Darling, I called and made reservations for−."

  "Adrian, I’m not leaving the Senator alone," she interrupted him, trying to keep her distaste for him out of her voice. "It’d be best if you leave."

  "Why don't I have my driver take him home?" Adrian stood to face her. "We can have dinner brought in and spend the night here."

  Sydney felt like she would scream if he touched her but she did not want him to know that she suspected him so she did not react as he took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips.

  "No." She finally responded when she felt she could speak without sounding nervous. "He needs me right now and I can't turn my back on him. I’m his doctor."

  Adrian's eyes narrowed fractionally for one split second then he smiled. "Yes, of course, I understand completely. We will reschedule."

  She nodded." Let me see you out." She walked outside with him and he took her in his arms.

  She stiffened and he released her. "Are you quite sure you are all right? And shouldn't your friend be leaving as well?"

  "I'm just worried about Senator Tyler." She steered the subject away from Blake. "I'll be fine.”

  "Try to rest. I would not want you to overtax yourself, even if it is for such a noble cause."

  "I'll be okay. But thank you for being so concerned.”

  He smiled and cupped the side of her face in his hand. "I will call you in the morning. Do be sure not to let your friend stay too long. By the way, what is he doing here?"

  She said the first thing that popped into her mind. "He came by to take a look at my computer. Blake's just−well, you just wouldn't believe his knack for computers and I've been having a little problem so I thought I'd get him to look at it."