by ANDREA SMITH
I nodded remembering Gina going on about it on the phone with Ian while I was in labor at the hospital. Who could forget the bizarre questions of fact on that one?
“Well, it was only at the preliminary hearing stage back then. Apparently the case is complex and has morphed into a mass tort situation involving plaintiffs in different federal court districts. So the firm filed a Motion to centralize the case under one federal court to expedite the process. Harmon or Sinclair will give an oral argument in Baton Rouge on that date in front of the Judicial Panel on Multidistrict Litigation to see if they'll rule to grant the motion.”
I nodded as if I understood everything she'd explained but I really didn’t. I'd ask Trey more about it later. Leah was continuing to explain in more detail about the JPML and the federal judges that comprised the panel when I stopped entering the data into my computer. I was struck by the name of one of the panel members on the JPML - it was listed as Judge Preston James Tylar. I scanned his Curriculum Vitiate.
He was a federal judge appointed by the President to the 5th Circuit Court back in 1990, the same year I'd been born. I wasn’t sure of the significance of that, but in conjunction with the similarity of our names, it'd given me pause for a moment. Preston James Tylar. Tylar Jamie Preston. Weird.
“Are you okay, Tylar?” Leah was watching me from her desk, a look of concern on her face.
“Oh, yeah – sorry, Leah,” I said smiling over at her. “It’s nothing. I just got a little caught up with one of the judge’s names."
Thankfully, my Cell phone beeped indicating I had a text message so I didn’t have to explain anything further to Leah. It was Trey.
How's your day going? I haven’t had the pleasure of even seeing you in passing! Tell Leah you need a break - meet me in Conference Room 3E
I flushed and smiled. He could be so wicked…
“Leah, “I said, “I have to run to the restroom and then over to Central Filing for a few minutes."
“Okay; I've got you covered."
I gathered up a few file folders to make it look like I was about firm business and headed through the maze over to the other side of the building to the east conference room. It was located in a rarely used area of the building and this particular conference room was only used when there was an over-booking issue with the others.
I got to the doorway without being seen and slipped into the conference room. It was dark. Shit, he was probably just kidding. How stupid did I look? I turned to go back out into the deserted hallway when I felt his hands on me, pulling me back against him. His warm breath was on my neck as he whispered.
“Where do you think you're going?”
He moved in front of me quietly closing the door to the conference room and locking it. He flicked on the track lighting, taking the folders I'd brought with me, tossing them onto the conference room table. He turned back to me pulling me against him as he lowered his head and his lips found mine. We kissed as if we hadn’t seen each other in weeks instead of just a few hours. His hands slid up under my skirt and his fingers moved my panties aside as they expertly plied the folds of my sex. I knew that I was wet already.
“What’s this?” he asked inserting a finger inside of me, gently probing. “Is my baby wet for me already?”
“Is that bad?” I asked, my tongue playfully tracing his lips. I could feel his hardness against me. Before I knew what was happening, Trey had lifted me up and set me on top of the conference room table, spreading my legs apart so that he was braced inside of them.
“Trey,” I whispered, “What are you doing? Are you crazy?”
I started to wriggle out of his grasp but his arms were strong around me.
“I’m going to fuck you, Mrs. Sinclair. Right here, right now. I’m going to make you come as well. Do you have an issue with that?”
“Well, actually, Mr. Sinclair, there's one little problem. Do you think I wear my diaphragm 24-7?”
“Not a problem at all, baby.”
He reached into the pocket of his suit trousers and pulled out a foil-wrapped condom. I was surprised but not shocked. I found his lips again with mine, tasting him and feeling his fingers bringing me to rapid pleasure. This was so naughty, but so damn hot! I heard the zipper of his fly go down. He backed away from me momentarily, tearing the condom packet open and rolling the condom down the length of his very erect shaft.
He was ready and so was I. He scooted me to the edge of the table, placing each of my legs around his hips. He'd pulled my skirt up around my waist. His hand guided his hard erection into my womanhood gently. He teased me a bit going in and out very slowly but not fully. I wanted the full length of him inside me. My hands clutched his butt pulling him in deeper. Finally he buried himself fully into me. I moaned softly with the pleasure it gave me.
"Mmmm, that feels so good,” I said rotating my hips in a circular rhythm.
“Do you like that?” he asked rocking slowly back and forth inside of me.
“Ummm . . . yes,” I said feeling the head of his erection massaging my sweet spot again and again. I was quickening and Trey knew it. He wanted to prolong our pleasure. He stopped his gentle thrusting and I whined in protest.
“Easy, baby,” he crooned softly to me. “We aren’t in any hurry here, are we?”
He started rolling his hips against me once again and his gentle thrusting in and out of me. My hips gyrated as I leaned back against the table, moving my legs up to his shoulders. I knew he liked it.
“God, Tylar,” he rasped, his momentum now picking up as he buried himself into me deeply.
His in and out thrusting was becoming stronger and stronger. I felt the swell of my climax ready to peak. Trey was moaning now. He stopped suddenly and I felt the throb of his climax emptying inside of me. It was the tiny push I needed to give way to mine. My core contracted in response, squeezing him over and over again as I came with him. We both moaned softly with the sweet pleasure of our orgasms.
When I got back to my work area, the wall clock read 3:45 p.m. I'd only been gone for thirty minutes. Leah was on a call with someone so I finished up the data inputs in Mr. Harmon’s schedule then sorted the incoming mail, date-stamping it in and distributing it.
I wondered how Susan was doing with her afternoon interview with Sheila Bradley. Susan had referred to her as "Nurse Bradley.” She probably liked the idea of a registered nurse being Preston’s babysitter. Susan could fill Trey and I in on the details at dinner.
At five, Leah and I cleaned off our desktops and filed any remaining file folders away. She took off telling me she'd see me in the morning. Her surgery was scheduled for Wednesday morning so tomorrow would be our last day together until she came back after surgery. I called Trey’s phone and Tonya answered.
“He’s on a phone call, Tylar,” she said. Her voice sounded strange, somehow distracted. “I’ll take a note into him that you called down here. Why don’t you sit tight until he comes by to get you, okay?”
“Okay,” I said, puzzled by her demeanor and her choice of words.
Why wouldn’t she have just said she'd have him call me as soon as he was off the phone?
I called the apartment realizing I hadn’t thought about the fact Susan had been busy with interviews and caring for Preston all day. I wanted to check and see if she wanted Trey and I to pick up something for dinner. Maybe she'd feel like going out to eat. That might be nice on our part to take her out for a nice dinner. The landline in our apartment rang and rang; finally the automated voicemail picked up. Maybe she was changing the baby’s diaper or something. The interview had to be over by this time.
Just then, Trey appeared in the office area. His face was ashen and his expression was if it was etched in stone. It reminded me a little bit of that dream that I had where Trey looked like a statue. This wasn’t a dream however.
“What is it?” I asked, a feeling of fear and panic slowly seeping in.
“We have to get to the hospital, now,” he stated firmly.
<
br /> “What? Why? What happened? Oh my God,” I was starting to shriek. “Did something happen to Preston?”
“No - it’s Mom.”
CHAPTER 10
I didn’t recall the drive to the hospital. Trey hadn't said much at all only that he'd received a called from the police indicating that his mother had been taken there by paramedics; her condition was underdetermined at this point. There'd be detectives there to interview us once we arrived he'd said.
“Where's Preston?” I asked Trey.
“I’m sure she was either left with a neighbor or is at the hospital with Mom,” he responded calmly. “Someone at the hospital is likely looking after her until we get there.”
“What kind of accident or injury happened to your mom?”
I’m not sure, but let’s please hope and pray for the best okay?”
“Okay,” I answered as Trey pulled into the Emergency Room parking lot at St. Matthews Hospital.
As we entered the lobby to the ER, several police officers immediately approached, and led us to a private waiting room off of the ER which I could only guess was used for privacy when the news was bad. I felt my throat start to close up as Trey pulled me along side of him into the room. One of the officers shut the door and instructed us to take our seats.
“Your mother will be fine,” he assured us right off the bat.
I breathed a sigh of relief and felt Trey relax beside me. Our relief was short-lived.
“Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair, when the paramedics brought your mother in a little while ago, she was unconscious due to a concussion. She started coming around just a few minutes ago and has been disoriented and extremely anxious. She's insisting that whoever bashed her over the head, took your baby daughter. Do you have a baby daughter that would've been in the apartment with your mother when the fire alarm sounded?”
“Fire alarm?” Trey asked.
“It was just a false alarm; don’t worry your building is fine. If in fact your daughter's missing, it could've been an attempt to divert attention away from the alleged perpetrator.”
I hadn’t heard anything after Trey had questioned the police about the fire alarm. Oh my God, she did it! She fucking did it. I'd known that somehow and some way my mother would come back to hurt me. It was what I'd feared and dreamt about; it was the reason for the paranoia inside of me that the pills Dr. Addison had prescribed had magically tucked away from my subconscious.
Mom had my baby. I was as sure of that as I was of my love for Trey and Preston. The bitch was mine! That was the last conscious promise I made to myself before I was blessed with darkness as my body took over and I careened into oblivion.
I was awakened abruptly by a nurse waving smelling salts underneath my nose. Trey was right there, he'd lifted me back onto my chair. The nurse had a gurney there but I refused. I knew that I'd be fine. I had to be fine because I was going to find my baby and kill that bitch.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I said, pushing the nurse’s hand away with the disgusting smelling salts.
“Sweetie,” Trey pleaded, “I think you're in shock right now, as we all are, let them help you, baby.”
His eyes were teared up, pleading with me. He was destroyed; I could see that. The problem was that he didn’t know what I knew and I knew that my fucking slut of a mother was behind this and she wouldn’t be hurting Preston; I was sure of that. Preston was worth something to her, I just had to figure out what and why.
“Trey,” I pleaded, “let’s see how your mom is doing right now. We have to see what she recalls about what happened. I refuse to believe that some random faction took Preston. I know who is behind this.”
“You do?” he asked, totally in shock. "Who?”
“My mother,” I announced very matter-of-factly. “I know that it was her. We just have to find her.”
The look that passed between my husband and the police was unmistakably one of disbelief. Okay, they thought I was nuts, paranoid; had a "Mommy issue," whatever. I knew the truth.
The detective wanted to question Trey alone, probably to see what he knew about his "Mommy-In-Law Dearest." Trey could only fill in him on what he knew for certain which included Charlie’s connection and conspiracy with her, as well as the fact that Trey’s P.I. had discovered some time back that my mom had been living with Daniel somewhere in Indiana. I could count on Trey. He'd been with me during a lot of the fallout that could only be attributed to mom and the minions that she directed such as Charlie.
Trey guided me back out to the waiting room, instructing me to sit there until the detective had finished questioning him. He made me promise that I'd sit still.
Whatever... he needs to chill. I have a plan.
Trey returned to the small room where the detective was most likely questioning him on both of our mental stability, and why we might want out baby daughter dead. I'd seen enough movies on cable to know how it flowed. I hoped that Trey wouldn’t take offense. It was standard procedure to suspect a family member after an “alleged” abduction.
My hopes were dashed when I heard my husband’s voice getting louder and louder. He dropped several “F” bombs before he exited the room, indicating that any future questioning would be conducted with his own counsel present. Weird he would seek other counsel to defend us against what? I knew damn well who the perp was. I was certain I'd be able to unravel her whereabouts given the resources I knew that Trey could afford to provide.
Trey held his hand out for me to take it as he pulled me from the chair and we headed out toward the mail lobby. He asked someone at the “help” desk about his mother.
We were directed to ER 5, where Susan was currently getting treatment for whatever injuries she'd sustained during her “accident.”
As we entered ER 5 behind the curtain, Susan was laying upon a gurney. She had a bandage over one eye and another around the forehead. Oh God, what had my mother done to her? Trey immediately was by her side, leaning over, kissing her cheek. Her eyes sprang open and they were full of guilt, pain and fear.
“Oh, Trey,” she wept, “Tylar, can you ever forgive me?” She was wailing, tears flowing down her cheeks. She was near hysteria. A young doctor was beside her, giving her an injection of some sort. He turned to Trey.
“This will calm her,” he explained. “She's had a major shock with what she's been through today. She'll be out in just a few minutes.”
I needed to work fast I realized as I approached her gurney, taking her hand into mine. “Susan,” I said gently, “we want you to calm down and relax. You need to take care of your health for the moment, okay? No one is angry with you, do you understand?”
She nodded pathetically, totally grief-stricken about what had happened. I needed to get some questions answered before she drifted off.
“Okay,” I said, steadfast in my mission. “Can you please tell me what happened to Preston?”
“Nurse Bradley took her,” she choked out between tears. “During the interview, Preston started fussing to eat. I asked Nurse Bradley to hold her while I went to the kitchen and warmed up a bottle of milk. I heard the baby stop fussing while I was out in the kitchen.”
Susan was sobbing now, totally absorbed in her tears and guilt. I could see that.
“What happened?” I prodded, as Trey stood by in a zombie-like trance.
“Well, when I came out with Preston’s bottle, I saw that Nurse Bradley was sitting on the couch with her. She had her blouse unbuttoned and she was . . .”
Susan stopped to sob louder now, clearly disoriented by what she'd observed. I needed her to finish.
“What, Susan?” I pressed, my voice louder and more demanding than I'd intended.
“She was nursing the baby,” she wailed. “Preston was latched onto her breast, nursing from her!”
“What the fuck?” I said loudly.
Susan starting wailing louder; Trey had turned into a statue again.
“Susan…Susan,” I said firmly. “What happened then?” I could tell th
at she was starting to feel the effects of whatever drug she'd been given.
“I asked her what the hell she thought she was doing. She said she'd lost a baby but kept pumping her breasts. She said she'd been donating her breast milk to the Fulton County Milk Bank. I told her she needed to leave and I went to take Preston from her. She kicked me with her foot and I landed on the floor. She laid Preston on the couch, grabbed the poker from the fireplace and bashed me on the head with it. The next thing that I remember is being here.”
She continued sobbing; my heart went out to her. Trey leaned down, kissing her and stroking her hair. He told her that everything would be okay. I'd one more question that I desperately needed to ask Susan before she sank into oblivion.
“Susan,” I said loudly. “I thought Nurse Bradley had retired from the hospital; how could she have been of child-bearing age?”
Susan looked me dead in the eye when she answered. “There's no way that lady was any older than forty I swear; gray wig and all, I could tell she wasn’t more than late thirties or very early forties.”
“Wig?” I asked.
It was too late. Susan had drifted off to sleep. I'd no further description from her other than she knew that the faux Nurse Bradley had been wearing a gray wig and that she, in no way, looked liked she was old enough to have been retired after twenty years spent as a nurse.
I did recall that the resume at our apartment for this Sheila Bradley had said her nursing years had been spent at North Bay hospital where I'd delivered Preston. We needed to get there.
Trey was still in shock. He was on the phone with one of his partners letting them know the situation. They assured him they'd pull all strings possible with the authorities to get an Amber Alert issued.
The problem was we'd nothing to go on. Susan wasn't even up to talking to a sketch artist at the moment. We'd no clue what the perp was driving, though I strongly suspected it was a newer model, white SUV; the same type of vehicle that had struck Jean.