Cass was appeased a little when Killian apologized and told her they would comply just as soon as the serviceman was questioned about the missing air bag and faulty brakes.
After their departure, Cass told Inez not to allow the men in the house again, not without Tom’s lawyer being present to guide and protect her. Then she took a Tylenol to ease her pounding head.
On Tuesday, Cass awoke with the determination to stay calm and busy that day. After breakfast and against Inez’s cautions, she went to a nearby spa with hopes a shampoo and blow dry, facial, manicure, pedicure, and body massage would help her drab appearance and turbulent emotions.
Instead of relaxing her, Cass realized she was getting more and more agitated with each ensuing procedure. The masseuse’s fingers seemed to dig into her flesh, pinch her muscles; the facial seemed to irritate her skin; and the beautician seemed to claw her scalp during the shampoo and pull her hair during the light teasing and comb-out. During the manicure and pedicure, it was as if the girl was shoving her pleading cuticles back with a screwdriver and as painfully as she could manage.
Cass knew she was grimacing, moaning, and complaining at each stage of discomfort. At first, each woman tried to chat with her, but she made it very clear she wasn’t wasn’t in a mood to talk. Cass saw each woman frown and try to hurry their specialty, no doubt to get rid of her. She wondered if they were being intentionally rough or if it was all in her wild imagination or her body and nerves were exceptionally sensitive today.
Cass’s head throbbed; her face was pale; her cheeks were rosy; her eyes looked strange. She just wanted to escape the torture chamber. She knew her condition was noticeable because three of the women asked if she was all right. Despite her annoyance with them, she thanked them and told them she was fine, just getting over a twenty-four-hour virus that had weakened her.
She paid her bill, noticed she wasn’t asked if she wanted to make another appointment, and rushed to her cashmere-beige BMW. She rested her sweaty forehead on the steering wheel for a few minutes and tried to wish away her trembling. She was certain those women at the spa were gossiping about her and concluding she was having a nervous breakdown. Perhaps I am, Cass silently accepted the possibility. I’m certainly feeling and acting crazy these days! All she wanted to do was lock herself in her bedroom, take a Valium, and go to sleep until she felt better.
Cass took her own advice about the tranquilizer and rest, but they worked only until the next morning.
On Wednesday, Dr. David Hines was called over by Peter during his lunch break. Cass’s stepson had been summoned home by a worried Inez.
Following an examination and blood withdrawal with the housekeeper present, Peter joined them to hear the doctor’s report.
Cass listened to the stocky middle-aged physician as he diagnosed her condition as a major depression, delayed shock, severe exhaustion, and either a panic or anxiety disorder. He prescribed several medications, a well-balanced diet, and ample bed rest. “I really don’t want to take drugs day and night,” she told Doctor Hines. “Won’t bed rest be sufficient? Or a vacation?” She saw the gray-haired man shake his head.
“If you want to get well, Mrs. Grantham, you’ll have to follow my advice. This isn’t just a simple case of sadness and fatigue we’re talking about; you have physical and emotional problems causing your symptoms. Your blood pressure is elevated, your pulse is rapid, and your heartbeat’s a little irregular. By your own admission, you’re having headaches, dizziness, weakness, flushing, mood swings, low energy, trouble sleeping, and panic attacks. If you go away, you’ll only be taking your medical problems with you, and they’ll get worse. I would suggest hospitalization, if I weren’t sure you would resist going. If you take your medications, remain in bed as much as possible, and let Miss Doughtery take care of you and the house, you’ll be well by…at the latest, mid-April. If you refuse to follow my orders, you can wind up with severe complications that won’t leave you any choice except an extended hospital stay.”
“I feel ridiculous, Doctor Hines. I’m not the first woman to lose her husband, and I’ve never become a nervous wreck in the past when dealing with adversity.”
“People have different ways of dealing with grief, Mrs. Grantham, and it’s obvious your body is telling you something is amiss. If I’m wrong, which I can assure you I’m not, the results of this blood test will tell me.”
“What will you be testing for, Doctor Hines?” she asked, worried that Tom might have given her a sexually transmitted disease, or worse…
“I’ll run a wide-screen check so I won’t miss anything. Sometimes chemicals or hormones run amuck at stressful times like this. I also want to make sure your potassium, glucose, hemoglobin, and iron levels are okay. It wouldn’t hurt for you to take a multi-vitamin and drink extra fruit juice. I want you off of stimulants: no coffee, tea, colas, or chocolate.”
“Listen to him, Cass, and do as he says,” Peter advised. “David Hines is one of the best doctors in town.”
“But he wants me to take a lot of medication, Peter.”
“If you had the flu or some other illness, you’d take medicine. Right?”
“Yes, but this is different,” she protested. “It’s partially emotional and that scares me,” she admitted to Peter. Yet, she didn’t want to get worse, which appeared to be the direction in which she was heading. Even so, she hated for potent drugs to be her salvation.
“You aren’t the first person to need help in that area; Cass. Before you know it, you’ll be your old self again.”
Cass pulled her gaze from Peter to focus it on Hines. “Are you positive this is the only line of treatment for my problem?”
The physician cupped his chin with one hand and tapped his lips with his forefinger as he pretended to think. He knew he had to do as Peter demanded or the younger man could destroy his reputation, career, and life. Besides, he told himself, he wouldn’t be drugging the woman for long and wouldn’t be doing any permanent damage to her, as Peter only wanted her incapacitated for a few weeks, not killed or made into an addict. But what worried him as much as Peter carrying out his blackmail threat was the fact he had to provide extra drugs from samples he received from pharmaceutical companies to go along with store-bought prescriptions, which would tie him more tightly to this illegal deed if it were exposed. He didn’t know how Peter had learned about his sexual practices and preferences because he had guarded that secret well over the years; so had Tom.
Hines took a deep breath and said, “Yes, Mrs. Grantham, this is what you need. If you don’t do as I say, things will only get worse for you. I promise you, none of the drugs I’ve prescribed are addictive in these dosages or for short-term use, if that’s what’s worrying you. Besides, I’m going to keep a close watch on you. I’ll check on you at least once or twice a week. However, I would advise against having other visitors; we don’t want anybody annoying and upsetting you and interfering with your treatment. In my opinion, you should confine yourself to the house and let Mrs. Doughtery and Peter tell everyone you’re away on a trip. Besides, the medication will relax you to the point you shouldn’t be driving, shopping, or going out alone; and you don’t want people seeing you—shall we say?—not at your best.”
Cass saw him smile as if he thought that statement was amusing, which it wasn’t to her. She didn’t like this creepy man, but he was Peter’s physician and had been Tom’s, and he did have plenty of so-called upper-class people as patients. She wished Dr. Burkman was treating her, but she didn’t want Jason to learn she had a mental disorder or to see her in this awful state. With reluctance, she nodded concurrence.
Hines continued, “You’ll also want to be careful you don’t take a fall while you’re dizzy and weak because that’s how you’ll feel for a while from the medication, and I advise you to take extra caution in the bathtub. Oh, yes, if those detectives come here again, Mrs. Doughtery will refer them to me and I’ll tell them you can’t be harassed because you’re under medical treatment.
Besides, that nonsense should be cleared up this week. Just lie around and nap, watch television, read, and let Mrs. Doughtery wait on you. I’ll give her my instructions before I leave; she’ll be in charge of giving you your medicine and keeping a schedule chart. You may be forgetful and might take too much or skip doses.”
“I promise to take good care of you, ma’am,” the housekeeper said.
“We both will,” Peter added.
Cass realized that Hines must have questioned Inez and Peter about mood swings and other strange symptoms. “Thank you,” she told them and forced out a smile for each person.
“Now, before I leave, I want to give you a shot to get the medication into you as quickly as possible. Very soon, Mrs. Grantham, you’ll be fine again.”
Cass extended her arm and allowed the injection. Getting well was what she wanted more than anything so she could pick up the pieces of her life and make a fresh start. Within minutes, she felt her head spin and her lids get heavy, and she surrendered to the mellow sensations tugging at her like gentle waves at low tide.
Peter looked at Inez. “Would you please brew some coffee so we can talk at the breakfast table? Doctor Hines and I will be down soon.”
Inez nodded and left the two men standing near the woman’s bed.
Hines glanced at the closed bedroom door, then at Peter. “I’ve done what you said, so don’t forget your promise of silence.”
“As long as you keep your part of our bargain, my lips are sealed.”
“Don’t worry, she’ll be under your control as long as she’s given the medication. Just make sure nothing happens to her.”
Peter caught the man’s meaning and smiled. “I certainly don’t want another suspicious death on my hands, so we’ll all be careful with those drugs. All I need is for her to stay out of my hair for a few weeks, a month at most. Then I don’t care where she goes or what she does.”
After the men left and spoke with Inez downstairs, Hines departed.
Peter told the housekeeper, “Mrs. Grantham needs watching and tending day and night and that will be a lot of extra work for you, so you’ll get that large raise and bonus that I mentioned for taking care of her. Cass should sleep most of the time, but I can sit with her while you grocery shop or run personal errands. Are you sure you don’t mind moving into one of the guest rooms for a while? If so, I can hire a nurse.”
“It’s no bother, Mr. Grantham, and your payment is most generous.”
“Excellent. If there’s an emergency or you need me to sit with her, just page me; you have my number. Remember, Inez, don’t let those detectives in to see her, and tell anyone else she’s out of town until the end of April. I’ll do the same thing. We can’t let anybody or anything upset Cass or she could have a complete nervous breakdown.”
“I understand and I’ll follow your orders.”
Over two weeks passed in a hazy blur for Cass. At times, she was vaguely aware of eating, bathing, sitting in a nearby chair for sheets to be changed, hearing the television or music or the vacuum cleaner running, and taking her medication. A few times, she knew Peter was in the room with her and was talking about Tom’s will and various businesses, but she was too dazed to grasp much of what he said or to care whether she did or didn’t understand and agree. With his help, she managed to sign papers he needed, including a power of attorney for him to handle joint business matters, with Dr. Hines and Inez witnessing her signatures. If anyone phoned or came by to visit her, she was unaware of it.
She did hear Peter say that the mechanic had returned to town and had told the two detectives that Tom had hired someone to illegally remove the air bag because he didn’t want it popping out accidentally during a fender-bender and injuring him as he’d heard had happened to others. Even so, the investigation had not been closed to that date.
She also heard Inez tell her that inquisitive people were still riding by, and staring at the house, and a few were taking pictures. She also heard the woman say something that sounded like, “Thank goodness Mr. Grantham’s not in the newspapers or being talked about on TV anymore. Folks will forget about this mess soon. You just take it easy, ma’am, and get well.”
* * *
On Thursday afternoon, March twenty-eighth, Peter Grantham left for Los Angeles on business, confident all matters were under his control.
On Friday morning while Cass was sleeping, Inez went to Peter’s residence behind the main house to do a thorough cleaning.
Jason Burkman saw the housekeeper, carrying cleaning supplies in a handled container, enter the large guesthouse and assumed she would be occupied for a while. From his vantage point at the edge of the sprawling home and concealed from a neighbor’s view by dense bushes, he had been watching and waiting for a chance to sneak inside to see if Cassandra was there and if she was all right. He had noticed David Hines’s automobile in the driveway several times during the past few weeks, and he had been in a local drugstore yesterday morning when the housekeeper stopped in to pick up prescriptions for Cassandra. If she was out of town as he’d been told when he tried to visit her again, that incident didn’t make sense to him. Nor could he understand why Cassandra would still be refusing to see or speak with him. Besides, if there was anybody he mistrusted and disliked almost as much as he did Peter Grantham, it was David Hines. Suspecting what he did about the snooty physician, he couldn’t bear the thought of David’s hands being on her. Somehow he had a gut feeling something was wrong and he felt compelled to check out his hunch.
Chapter Five
Jason had intended to peer in windows to see if he could catch a glimpse of Cassandra Grantham and convince her to see him, but the housekeeper’s departure gave him the perfect opportunity to make contact without any interference. He crept toward the back door, but it was locked. He checked the French doors to the patio to find one partially opened, perhaps to let in fresh air. The woman must have forgotten about it.
Jason sneaked inside the house and listened for a minute, but heard nothing. He made his way to the kitchen and glanced inside; no one was there, but he noticed the medicine bottles and a tablet and pencil on the counter. He went upstairs and checked each room he passed until he located the master bedroom, where he saw Cass sleeping.
Jason didn’t know how much time he had, so he rushed to her side and tried to awaken her. “Cass…Cassandra, it’s Jason Burkman. Can you hear me? Can you open your eyes? Cass, wake up.”
He waited for a minute, then tried again, shaking her shoulders this time.
Cass heard the masculine voice calling to her from far away and Jason’s image filled her dreamy mind. She struggled to rouse herself and look at him, but she was too tired and weak.
“Cass, can you hear me?” Jason asked, shaking her again, that time more firmly.
Cass moaned and moved, but couldn’t obey his summonings.
“Open your eyes! I have to talk to you.”
Cass sighed, grasped his hand, and snuggled it to her cheek as she rolled to her side.
Jason eyed the beautiful woman. Her long hair was mussed and she wasn’t wearing makeup, but she was captivating nonetheless. He sat down and gazed at her. His fingers pushed aside strayed locks of dark-brown with hints of a lighter shade. He let them stroke her cheek, fulfilling a long-denied desire to touch her. Her skin was as smooth as glass and as soft as cotton. He allowed them to wander over her full lips and wished he could steal a kiss. He drifted them down the entreating column of her neck and over a creamy-colored bare shoulder. He was warmed by the way she nestled his other hand against her flesh. He wanted to pull her into his arms and embrace her. He wanted to hold her and comfort her. He hated seeing the once-vibrant woman in this sorry condition.
Cassandra Grantham had made him feel again, desire again, after his bitter divorce which came less than fours years after losing his first and beloved wife to breast cancer. She had made him smile and made him realize he could love again. The perfect woman for him had entered his lonely world last October,
but she had been taken; now, here she lay in a terrible state, though freed from the marital obstacle that had separated them.
Maybe, Jason admitted, it was selfish and greedy of him to pursue Cass, so soon after her husband’s death; yet, he justified his actions because he didn’t want to risk losing her before he had a chance to win her Despite his desire for her, he would behave as nothing more than a friend until a proper mourning period passed and she was ready to love again. Until that day arrived, he didn’t want her to shut herself away from the world and suffer alone, or to move out of his reach before she had healed enough to be approachable. He—
Jason pulled away his hands and straightened to listen. Yes, he had heard something; the housekeeper was coming. He knew Peter was gone because he had been at the airport picking up a package when the bastard left in his company’s private jet. He quickly rolled under the bed and out of sight. From beneath the almost floor-length coverlet, he watched the woman’s feet approach the bed, stay there for a minute, then leave. It was obvious she had returned to check on Cass and probably would do so again soon. After he heard the back door close, he left his hiding place and peered outside, watching Inez until she reentered Peter’s residence.
He rushed downstairs and checked the prescriptions and schedule which he had noticed earlier. She was on heavy doses of tranquilizers and antidepressants, enough to keep her dazed at most times to near unconsciousness. It hadn’t been long since her last dose, which meant she was too affected by it for him to get through to her, but he would give it another try. He didn’t have any proof she was being drugged against her will or overdrugged without her knowledge, but a gut feeling told him to pursue the matter, especially since she was being secluded and Peter Grantham was involved. He took a pill from each container and stuffed them into his pants pocket, noting that two bottles were simply marked with an A and a B. He would check them out later in his Physician’s Desk Reference.
Love With A Stranger Page 7