“Ah,” Dr. Harris said, “I was just about to call you. I’m just finishing up Brian’s Death Certificate.” He signed the document with a flourish of the pen, made a copy of it on his desktop scanner and handed it across the desk.
Adrienne’s eyes went directly to the Cause of Death space. “Perfect,” she said. “Now, Dr. Harris, I need to find out about another thing. You see, Brian hadn’t written a will, but I know he always wanted to be cremated—”
“I did not!”
“—and I need to know how to go about such a thing.”
“Well,” Dr. Harris said slowly. “Disposal of the body, either burial or cremation, is usually a decision for the next of kin. Didn’t Brian have any living relatives?”
“He’d never been married. No children. I know his father’s dead and his mother . . . I don’t even know where she is. They never saw each other and I don’t think they’ve even spoken in years.”
“That’s not true!” Brian protested. “We were close. We talked all the time! Even when you didn’t know about it.”
“I know he doesn’t have any siblings and any other relatives . . .” She let the sentence die away. Then she smiled brightly. “He made me the beneficiary on all of his insurance policies. That should count for something, shouldn’t it?”
“Doctor,” Brian shouted. “Order an autopsy. I’m sure they’ll find something suspicious.”
“I suppose so. I haven’t had any other inquiries about him. Have you?”
Adrienne shook her head. “Not one. I’ll have to notify his boss. He’s been working at home most of the time, you know. But that’ll get done all in due time.”
“Okay,” the doctor said slowly. “I’ll make arrangements with a crematorium. There’s one just across the street that our patients’ families frequently use.”
“Yes, I’m familiar with it. That’ll be fine. I just want to get all this behind me.” She took a tissue from her purse, dabbed at her eyes and then rose from her seat. “Thank you, Dr. Harris, for everything. You’ve been such a big help.”
Brian thought of his mother and, instantly, he was beside her in her living room. A daily quiz show was on the television in front of her and she was enthusiastically playing along.
“Mother,” he said urgently, “you’ve got to listen to me.” Then, more urgently,
“Mother!”
But the show played on and she showed no indication of acknowledging his presence. For the rest of the day, Brian hovered nearby and repeatedly tried to get her attention, but to no avail. Then he remembered that his dad had said he could send dreams. Maybe that was the route he should try.
Brian thought of Mr. Harrigan and moved to his office. Cindy, Brian’s secretary, tapped on the door and Harrigan glanced up from the contract he was reading.
“Oh, yes, Cindy, is there something I can help you with?”
“Well, it’s Mr. Forrester, sir. He hasn’t answered any of my e-mails today and that’s not like him. I tried to call a minute ago and got the answering machine. I’m getting worried.”
“It’s probably nothing. Maybe he’s just in the shower.”
“You really think so?”
“Probably. If it’ll make you feel any better, I’ll stop by his apartment this evening.”
“Oh, yes, sir. I’d feel much better.”
Mr. Harrigan nodded curtly. “Very well.” He watched Cindy turn away from his doorway. “Probably just undergoing a treatment,” he muttered to himself. Brian whiled away the afternoon revisiting some of the places he had most enjoyed. He roamed through the park where riotous summer blossoms adorned every bed along the numerous walkways. He went to the forest where he had wandered as a boy, watching the birds and squirrels move from branch to branch, tree to tree. When twilight began to darken the sky, he thought of the apartment and found himself in the living room. Adrienne sat on the sofa leafing through a stack of travel brochures. It appeared as if she were planning a trip. Was this how she was going to spend the insurance settlement?
What about all of the debts they had piled up? Surely she wouldn’t just walk away from those. The doorbell rang and Brian followed as she went to answer it. Mr. Harrigan stood outside as Adrienne opened the door only slightly.
“Hello, Adrienne. I wonder if I might speak with Brian. It seems he’s not answered his e-mails today and Cindy, his secretary, is worried. I promised her I’d stop by to check on him.”
“Well, Mr. Harrigan, he has been feeling a little under the weather today, but I’m sure it’s nothing serious. He’s asleep right now and I really don’t think I should wake him.”
“Oh, no, no. Of course not. Let the poor man sleep. I’ll reassure Cindy. Thank you, and I’m sorry to have disturbed you.”
“That’s quite all right, Mr. Harrigan.”
“Well, you take good care of our boy now, okay?”
Adrienne nodded. “Good night.”
Adrienne eased the door closed and returned to the couch.
Brian shook his head in wonder. How could she play it so cool? One would never believe that she had deliberately murdered him. He thought of his father and the information he had given him and immediately he was beside him as he meditated under a huge tree on a hillside.
“Well, son, what did you find out?”
Brian shook his head. “You wouldn’t believe it. My Death Certificate has been filled out to show that I died of natural causes. Adrienne is lying to everyone – my boss, Dr. Harris, everyone. She told my boss that I was sleeping without the least bit of sarcasm. She told Dr. Harris that I had no siblings and that Mom and I hadn’t spoken in years –
said she didn’t even know where she was.”
“I was afraid of that,” the old man said, shaking his head.
“Dad, how do I send dreams?”
“You have to concentrate really hard and think of the pictures that you want to send –
and hope that their subconscious mind is tuned in to the same wave-length.”
“Okay, I’ll try. I want to send one to Mom. I want her to find out about the cremation and stop it before it’s too late.”
“Why don’t you try meditating for awhile before you try it? That should help increase your concentration.”
Brian nodded. He leaned back against the tree and the two men let their minds drift into oneness with the universe.
Chapter 11
In the early hours of the morning in physical time, Brian roused from his meditation. His father stirred beside him.
“Do you feel stronger?”
“Much. I think it’s time now to go see if I can get through to Mom.”
The older man nodded. “Remember, send pictures, not words. I’ll see you later.”
With the thought of her, Brian found himself in his mother’s bedroom. The clock on her nightstand read 3:05am. Mrs. Forrester was sleeping peacefully.
“I hate to disturb your rest, Mom,” Brian said. “But I really need your help.” He considered for a moment what picture would best conjure his feelings of helplessness. He envisioned himself gagged and bound from head to toe. Two threatening shadowy figures were struggling to get his body over the edge of a deep fiery pit. The flames licked up around him and his eyes widened in horrified panic. Concentrating on the picture, defining it, clarifying it, he began to project it to his mother’s mind. Suddenly, with a muffled cry, she sat straight up in the bed. “Oh, my God,” she panted. “Something is wrong with Brian. I just know it!”
Brian smiled. He had apparently gotten through after all. He watched as his mother threw back the covers, got out of bed and went to the window. He watched as she paced back and forth, around and around. He followed her to the kitchen where she put a cup of water in the microwave and took a teabag out of the cabinet. When the timer beeped, she removed the cup, dropped in her teabag and walked to the table in the breakfast nook. Staring out the window at the waning moon, she muttered to herself. “What could have happened? He looked fine at Christmas. Of c
ourse that was several months ago, but he hasn’t said anything about any problems since then.”
Brian struggled to send her a picture of Dr. Harris and to urge her to call him. The doctor had apparently believed what Adrienne had told him and only if his concerned mother showed up at the office would he be convinced that Adrienne had been lying. Brian sighed. But he had never mentioned going to Dr. Harris to his mother. That had all been Adrienne’s idea and he hadn’t wanted to worry his mom when the news had not been so good. If she checked with his regular doctor, she would learn nothing. The sky was beginning to brighten and Brian transported himself to the rooftop to watch the sunrise. He somehow never tired of the beauties of nature. As the sun peeped over the horizon, purple, pink and golden clouds reflected its splendor. Why must people let greed blind them to all of the glory that surrounded them? When the sun blazed in its entire splendor in the azure sky, Brian returned to his mother’s side. She had the phone to her ear and was tapping her foot impatiently while she waited for it to ring. “Adrienne,” she said. “I’d like to speak with Brian, please.”
Brian pictured Adrienne at the phone and was instantly at her side. “Oh, Mrs. F, I’m sorry he isn’t here. He left for the office early this morning. Something about a crucial meeting he had to get ready for.”
“How long ago did he leave?”
“Oh, it hasn’t been long. I doubt that he’d be there yet.”
Brian flitted back and forth between the two women.
“Well, alright, I’ll try him there in a little while.” With a worried frown, Brian’s mom replaced the phone in its cradle. “It’s almost as if he disappeared from the face of the earth,” she murmured.
Brian smiled sadly. “Well, Mom, I guess you’re right about that.”
For the next several minutes, he continued to try to present the image of Dr. Harris to his mother, but she appeared to be concentrating more on tracking him down. She picked up the phone and punched in his direct number at the office. She listened for a couple of minutes, and then punched off the connection. “Voice mail,” she said with disgust. “You can’t ever get a real person anymore.”
Brian glanced at the clock on the microwave. It would be awhile before Cindy came in. He’d better see what Adrienne was up to.
He found her hurrying down the street near the hospital. He frowned. She was dressed in her best suit and carrying a large bag. Where was her uniform? Wasn’t she on her way to work?
As she came abreast the hospital, she turned and strode across the street. Pushing through the office door of the crematorium, she approached the man at the desk. “I need to find out when my brother’s ashes will be ready,” she told him. “His name’s Brian Forrester.”
The man reached into his desk and pulled out a file folder. He ran his finger down the page, paused and looked up at her. “It’ll be a few days yet,” he said.
“Oh, no, that can’t be,” she wailed, tears rising in her eyes. “You don’t understand. I have to have his ashes by this evening.”
The man shook his head. “I’m sorry, miss, the oven isn’t scheduled to be fired up until day after tomorrow.”
“But, but,” she protested, her tears now flowing freely. “Our brother has been called up. He’s leaving for Iraq tomorrow afternoon. We have to have his ashes for the memorial service in the morning. We just have to!” The man shrugged and shook his head. “If you can’t help me, may I please speak to your manager?”
“Ma’am, I am the manager and I’m telling you we just can’t do it.”
“Oh, please, help me. We just can’t let our brother be shipped out without saying good-bye to the one person he was closest with.”
“I really am sorry, miss, but we just can’t fire up like that. I don’t mean to be harsh, but do you have any idea how expensive that would be?” He shook his head. “Takes a lot of fuel.”
“But I’ll pay. Whatever extra it costs, I’ll pay for it.”
“Two days early? It’d cost a good thousand dollars.”
“That’s okay.” She fished through her bag and pulled out a checkbook. “I’ll write you a check right now.” The man shrugged and Adrienne hurriedly wrote the check. She handed it to him with a smile. “Thank you,” she said. “I’ll come by at five this evening to get his ashes.”
Brian accompanied her back across the street. She entered the hospital lobby and made straight for the restroom. Brian paused. He felt weird about going into a ladies room. Then he shrugged.
She had entered a stall. Pulling her uniform and a large shopping bag out of the tote she carried, she removed the suit, carefully folded it and placed it in the Dillard’s bag. Then she slipped into her uniform and, taking both the shopping bag and the tote, left the restroom and headed for the elevators.
Brian sighed. She would have his ashes long before the crematorium manager found out that her check had bounced. If something weren’t done quickly, it would be too late. He thought of his mother and found her on the phone.
“Yes, Cindy, I’m trying to reach Brian. Every time I try his line all I get is his voice mail.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Forrester. Your son has been working from home for some time now. He only comes into the office whenever he has a meeting with a customer.”
“Working from home? Why, he’s never mentioned anything about it.”
“What with the telephone and e-mail he still keeps in close touch with us. At least he has – until the last couple of days.”
“But doesn’t he have a big meeting this morning?”
Cindy pulled up their shared schedule on her computer. “No, Mrs. Forrester, I don’t see anything out of the ordinary scheduled for today.”
“Hmm, that certainly is strange. Okay, Cindy, thank you so much for your help.”
“No problem.” Cindy gave a small laugh, “But I don’t think I’ve helped much.”
“No, my dear, you really have.”
She hung up the phone and sat, tapping her fingers on the table. “What is going on?”
she muttered. “Why did Adrienne lie to me about Brian having a big meeting? What was it, crucial, wasn’t that the word she’d used?”
She pulled out the phone book, looked up a number and placed the call. “Is this Dr. Barry’s office?” she asked.
“Dr. Barry is one of our doctors.”
“This is Vivian Forrester. My son, Brian, is a patient of Dr. Barry’s. Could you tell me whether he’s been in recently to see the doctor?”
“Just a minute, ma’am, I’ll have to check his records. Please hold.” The receptionist punched the hold button and went to the bank of files that lined the walls. She selected a folder, pulled it out and began to peruse the latest record on her way back to her desk.
“Ma’am? No, ma’am, he hasn’t been in since last fall.”
“Very well. Thank you very much.”
Brian watched his mother hang up the phone and begin to pace from one room to another. He thought of his father and instantly found himself at his side as he walked along a gurgling stream of crystal clear water.
“How’s it going?”
Brian shook his head. “Not too good. I think I got through to Mom, but she hasn’t been able to find out anything. I was hoping to get an autopsy, but Adrienne is pushing through the cremation. In fact, my body is probably going into the ovens right now. I don’t know what else I can do.”
The older man shrugged. “I guess you’ll just have to concentrate on the girl then. See if you can help turn her around. That is, if you really love her.”
“I do love her,” Brian said, and then hesitated. “Or at least I did, but I’m beginning to wonder if I really ever knew her.”
Chapter 12
Sometime later, Brian found Adrienne walking through a neighborhood park. She was redressed in the suit with her bag over her shoulder and an urn in her hands. As he drifted along the path, he saw her diverge toward a picnic shelter. There, she removed the lid from the urn and dumped the ashes into a ba
rbeque pit.
“Ashes to ashes,” she murmured with a satisfied smile.
She then tossed the urn into a nearby drum marked ‘Refuse’ and dusted off her hands. From there she went to a copy shop and had half a dozen copies of his Death Certificate made.
Apparently, Brian thought, it’s time to file at least one insurance claim. No doubt the life insurance policy would be the first on the list. He popped back to his mother’s house and found her still pacing the floor. Had she been pacing all day?
She went to the phone, picked it up and punched in a number, tapping her foot while she waited for someone to answer. “Cindy, apparently you’ve left for the day. This is Vivian Forrester, I was just wondering if you’ve heard anything from Brian. Would you please give me a call the first thing in the morning? Thank you.”
She disconnected the call and immediately called the local police station. “Yes,” she said when they answered. “I want to file a missing persons report. On whom? On my son.” She paused, apparently listening. “I’m filing because nobody seems to have spoken with him in several days. I haven’t heard from him; his secretary hasn’t heard from him. Something must have happened for him not to have checked in at his office.”
She continued, giving the policeman Brian’s name, his description and the addresses of both his home and office. She finished and said, “I just know something’s wrong. Thank you, Officer.”
The next morning Brian found Adrienne at work at the hospital. She was obviously pretending to study some charts, but was actually straining to eavesdrop on a conversation between two of her fellow nurses.
“Have you seen him yet?” one asked with a giggle.
“Have I ever!”
“Isn’t he just the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever laid eyes on?”
“I think I’ll see if I can just manage to bump into him in the cafeteria.”
“I’d like to bump into him alright, but not in the cafeteria.”
Both girls laughed and went their separate ways down the corridor. Adrienne moved to the station where the graying head nurse was reviewing the day’s schedule. She returned the charts to their holder, leaned down and said in a confidential tone. “That new doctor must be something else the way he has all of the girls twittering.”
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