by Ann Rule
“I want you to connect with me,” he said, looking into her eyes. “Visualize your blood flowing effortlessly from your vein into my needle. I’ll insert the needle.”
There was an almost sensual feeling as he slid the needle in. With her eyes closed, she visualized what he’d suggested, and her blood draw was complete within moments with virtually no pain.
“That was excellent,” he said, once again looking directly into her eyes as he applied a bandage and put pressure on the vein. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his.
She learned that that phrase—“Connect with me”—carried with it a hypnotic power. He was so honest and compassionate that people literally trusted him with their life’s fluid.
Kate followed Dr. Branden’s recommendations carefully, and her health steadily improved.
“It worked,” she said. “I lost a little weight, my skin cleared up, and my virus symptoms were under control. I felt so much better.”
During her weeks of treatment, Kate felt she was coming to know John Branden well, and found him to be a “vibrant, interesting, warm, and caring man.” They first went over her diet diary, and he chided her gently for what she hadn’t done, but more often he praised her. She looked forward to her weekly office visits with him, finding in him almost a kindred spirit. He matched her intellectually and could discuss so many subjects that she, too, found interesting. Kate was a college graduate, a very intelligent woman with a thirst for knowledge. John was fascinating to talk with, and unlike any man she had ever known. There wasn’t the pressure that she—or anyone—felt in a dating situation; they were equals, platonic friends, with their own private lives.
Kate finally admitted to herself that she had a crush on Dr. John. She knew he was married and she totally respected his family bonds, so she didn’t think there was any harm in her having fantasies about him. She never planned on acting on them.
Once, Kate commented to Sue Branden that she was lucky to be married to such a caring and sensitive doctor. She was startled when John’s wife grimaced, rolled her eyes, and shrugged her shoulders, as if Kate had no idea what she was talking about. It was obvious Sue Branden didn’t hold John in high esteem. Maybe he was so familiar to her, Kate thought, that she no longer saw his genius.
On the other hand, Sue confided to Kate that she had once wanted to be a stewardess but had married when she was so young, and then had had two daughters to raise, and so many things to do for John.
Kate and Dr. John usually ended her office visits with casual conversations, and he sometimes inquired about the romantic side of her life. She told him she’d had several long-term relationships when she was in her twenties and early thirties, but at thirty-eight, she had finally realized she was okay by herself. “I don’t need a man to make me feel fulfilled and happy,” she said easily.
In truth, she still hoped to find her soul mate, the one man who would love and admire her, listen to her and take care of her. But she didn’t tell her doctor that.
Often, Dr. John gave her little extras, like a very professional shoulder massage. Once, he read her aura. He also told her that she gave him energy. Just being around her made him feel happier. It was a little flirtatious, but she believed it was also innocent.
When Kate’s eight-week program was completed just before Christmas on December 20, she headed in for her last office visit and found herself regretting that her friendship with Dr. John was probably over. By its very nature, it was meant to be self-limiting. He was the doctor, and she was the patient, and she was well now. But she would miss him.
She was happily surprised when he gave her a lovely quartz crystal that carried with it curative powers, telling her it was a Christmas present.
“Well,” she asked as she sat across the desk from him, “what do we do now? Am I supposed to come back for re-checks every so often?” Now that she had her health back, she wanted to stay on top of it, and John’s program was excellent.
“That would be a wise idea,” he said slowly. “Probably you should make an appointment for sometime in February.”
The room had suddenly become very quiet. She looked up at him, and he wouldn’t meet her eyes at first. And that was so unlike him.
John Branden said softly, “I need to say something more.” And suddenly this man who was usually so verbal, sometimes spewing out words almost faster than she could understand them, was tongue-tied. When he finally spoke, he stuttered and stammered. It was strange for Kate to see him almost unable to get a sentence out.
“Say it,” Kate said, half-dreading, half-hoping she knew what he was talking about.
“I can’t.”
Maybe he didn’t want to keep her as a patient. Maybe she had assumed too much, and he was going to dismiss her and send her to someone else. They had formed some kind of a bond in those eight weeks, but she wasn’t sure just what it was. Friendship, certainly. She sensed that he felt closer to her than he did to other patients, but that could just have been wishful thinking on her part.
“Just say it,” she said again.
He stood up and walked around his desk. “I think I’m falling in love with you,” he blurted.
Now she was speechless and felt stupid when she finally said, “But you’re married.” It was the kind of response a schoolgirl would blurt out.
He moved toward her and gave her an extremely chaste kiss. He massaged her shoulders and kissed her hair as he shared some of his fantasies about her. He asked if he could call her, and she couldn’t bring herself to say no. Despite her common sense, her heart and her ego soared.
Kate Jewell was stunned. She hadn’t expected this. She had been steeling herself for just the opposite. She actually knew very little about him, and he still wasn’t her physical type—but she was drawn to him. It was a ridiculous situation. His wife, who rarely smiled, and who seemed disenchanted with her husband’s charm, sat just beyond the examining room door. His two pretty daughters were in and out of the office.
They all seemed to be a solid—if not particularly happy—family, in business together, comfortable with each other, acting out whatever scenarios they had established years before. Now John told her that he had been unhappy in his marriage for years. He said that he and Sue were very close to separating and would probably do so after the holidays. Sue spent so much money on frivolous things, she had put on so much weight, and she insisted on drinking Pepsi—which was anathema to a staunch nutritionist. They had been on divergent paths for a very long time, he said with some sadness in his voice.
Kate hadn’t thought about loving John in her real life—or his loving her. She knew a lot of women had crushes on their doctors. She liked him and felt safe in his presence. She had hoped that their friendship and conversations might continue. She knew there would be an empty place in her life if she couldn’t see him anymore. He had never touched her inappropriately, not until now. She trusted him, and she would miss him if she should choose to walk away because of those bright red warning lights now exploding in her brain. She doubted she would ever find such an easy relationship with any man again.
She didn’t realize how dangerous her combination of emotions could be.
Kate had to admit—if only to herself—that she had fallen in love with John, all unaware.
Right after John’s declaration of love, Kate flew an all-nighter to Boston and back. As passengers slept, she had a lot of time to think. She’d always trusted her own extrasensory perception, and, for over a month, she had felt strongly that she finally was about to meet her soul mate. Was it John? No, he’s married. But he’s unhappy. No, he has a wife. But she doesn’t complement, fulfill, or complete him.
But I, of course, could, she told herself.
Every woman in love with a married man believes that her relationship is “special,” that no one else feels as she does, and that her being with him isn’t really illicit because the two of them are in love and there are extenuating circumstances. And, with rare exceptions, they all get hu
rt when they learn that their romance isn’t special at all. There is a predictable progression, but it doesn’t seem predictable to someone caught up in it. Kate had seen it happen to fellow stewardesses and other friends, and she was cautious. An affair with a married man wasn’t something she had ever planned to have. But she was on a slippery slope.
When she left his office that day in December, she didn’t know what to expect. Maybe she would never see him again, and probably that would be best. Her mind was reeling with all the reasons not to get involved, while her heart sang with joy that this wonderful man loved her.
It was inevitable that John would call Kate, and that she would agree to see him. She found him more sincere than any other man she had ever known, and soon it didn’t matter that he wasn’t her type—because he had become her type, or perhaps her type had become John Branden. They talked for hours when they could find time to be together, and John could almost read her mind. They were that close.
They planned their first date for Christmas Eve afternoon at a health-food restaurant. He seemed shy, and they were both nervous. He told her he had never done this before but he was serious about her and would tell his wife about his feelings after the holidays. He had already told his older daughter, Tamara.
They never went into the restaurant; instead, they spent their time talking in the car. They went to Kate’s condo in Solana Beach but drank only cranberry juice.
They did not make love.
They walked on the beach, and John drove Kate back to her car by 5:00 p.m. “I literally floated over to my friends’ house to spend Christmas Eve,” she wrote in her journal.
Kate continued to fly for American Airlines, usually working as the flight attendant who served as the purser, in charge of the other attendants. She had enough seniority that she could bid on—and get—optimal flights, and she flew San Diego to New York City with twenty-four-hour layovers.
John kept his practice. Their lives, in the beginning at least, were not inextricably entwined. It was a delicate balance, but Kate thought she could keep her equilibrium.
But one day John confided once more that his marriage was virtually over and that he planned to get a divorce. He assured Kate that he’d never been with any woman except his wife and herself, that his feelings for her were an entirely new experience for him. He could not bear to go on in a loveless marriage—not when he felt the way he did about Kate.
When Kate asked him why he’d never strayed before, since he and Sue seemed so unhappy together, he explained that he needed complete loyalty and commitment from the woman in his life. He had had that with Sue—at first—and he would, of course, need it from Kate. He was a one-woman man, faithful as long as that woman was completely devoted to him. That seemed endearing to her, and Kate promised him she could give him that. It seemed little enough to ask. He assured her that he had remained loyal to his wife for two decades. Now, their goals had diverged, and they had grown irretrievably in different directions.
Sue Branden had treated Kate like any other patient, barely acknowledging her presence when she’d occasionally come to the office for follow-up appointments. Beyond her briefly confiding that she’d wanted to be a stewardess, too, Sue was an unknown quantity to Kate. If she suspected that there was anything between her about-to-be-ex-husband and Kate, she didn’t betray her feelings. Kate had the feeling she didn’t care what he did.
Tamara and Heather obviously only wanted their father to be happy. His daughters clearly adored him—especially Tamara, who was planning to follow in his footsteps. Tamara actually seemed pleased that her father was happy.
John kept his word. Unlike many married men, he really did intend to get a divorce, and he obtained a legal separation in 1990. His divorce became final two years later. He felt he was being generous with Sue by offering her $50,000. But before their divorce was legal, she asked for their town house, their new car, and generous alimony, and he agreed. Kate didn’t begrudge her any of that; Sue had been with him for twenty years, and she’d given him two daughters. It seemed that Sue was almost relieved to have a divorce; she and John clearly hadn’t been happy when Kate first met them, and now Sue could have a life of her own.
John still had his practice, and he was full of inspirations about improving it, adding another clinic, branching out to other enterprises, and making even more money than he currently did. Kate didn’t care that much about being wealthy, but she supported him completely in his dreams of glory that lay ahead for them. She was anxious to keep her promise to John, and she gave him loyalty and dedication. “He was the brains, and I was the workhorse,” she recalled. “I wrote and typed up all of his grand plans, but I was all right with that.”
There were occasional bumps in the road, sides of John that Kate hadn’t known about before, but she realized that people always reveal new aspects of their personalities as familiarity and trust take over.
In December 1989—even as John was confessing that he loved Kate—he was being sued by a woman who lived in the condominium complex next door to the Brandens in La Mesa, California. She asked for an injunction prohibiting him from “peeping” at her. John never mentioned it to Kate, explaining later that it was merely an annoyance, and not worth worrying her about.
“Early in November 1989,” his female neighbor’s complaint read, “I was forced to call the police regarding my neighbor, John Branden, and report him as a Peeping Tom. He was watching me over the fence through my windows. This was not the first time he has been caught doing this. Early in the summer of 1989, John Branden was also caught watching over my fence. When confronted, he just runs off. I am afraid he may do me some harm.”
John was forty-four, and the neighbor was fifty-seven, but she was an attractive woman. He responded to a temporary restraining order granted to her in an affidavit. He explained that he was “a doctor with my own medical group,” and he scoffed at his neighbor’s claims against him, characterizing her as “emotionally unbalanced” and angry at him for reporting her to the condominium association for having too many cats. Subsequently, seven of her eight cats had been removed. He stated it was “ludicrous” to think he would watch her covertly. He had no interest in her. His daughter Tamara backed up John’s testimony, explaining that the woman seemed to be disturbed and angry—to the point of sweeping dirt at them when she and her dad were washing their car, all the while muttering obscenities.
Tamara would always validate anything her father did. He was heroic in her eyes.
A superior court judge ordered both parties to stay away from each other for a period of not less than three years.
He never told Kate about this problem with his neighbor.
More distressing was a suit brought against John, his silent partner (a naturopathic doctor), his daughter Tamara, his estranged wife, Sue, and the Bayview Clinic practice in 1992. Although John downplayed the charges against him—to the point that Kate wasn’t aware of any of the details—she saw that he was very worried about this lawsuit.
A former woman patient and her husband were suing John for medical malpractice, sexual battery, failure to obtain informed consent, assault and battery, fraud, and misrepresentation.
John didn’t tell Kate what the charges were, and he waved off her worries, saying the woman was lying. He explained that Mary Ann Lakhvir* was married to a wealthy man from a Middle Eastern culture who didn’t understand that in America women could be alone with their doctors without being shamed or ostracized. John said her husband misunderstood the close ties he formed with his patients and was so jealous that the poor woman was forced to tell lies about John to her husband.
The Lakhvirs alleged in their affidavits that they’d sought treatment for serious systemic infections but Dr. Branden hadn’t known how to treat them, leading them to endure great physical and emotional pain and suffering when he’d administered mostly ineffective massage treatments and vitamins at the Bayview Medical Group in 1990. They asserted that John Branden was not a medical do
ctor and was not licensed to draw blood from them or give Mary Ann Lakhvir a pelvic examination.
(The suit was the first step in ending the silent partnership John had with the naturopath, and he later brought in an osteopathic physician to sign insurance claims.) Kate believed that John did have a phlebotomy license and that it was legal for him to draw blood. He’d been very skilled as he’d deftly and almost painlessly slipped a needle into her arm.
But even more troubling were the Lakhvirs’ sexual accusations: They maintained that John Branden had made sexual contact with Mary Ann when he’d given her a full-body massage while she was disrobed, and that he’d kissed her while she’d been naked. They asserted that he had then removed his clothes so she could “practice massage” on his nude body and become skilled enough to give her husband home massage treatments.
Sexual battery, as defined in California statutes, means that a person must intentionally cause harmful or offensive contact with an intimate part of another person. Those parts were listed as “…sexual organ, anus, groin, or buttocks of any person, or the breast of a female.”
The Lakhvirs stated that Tamara Branden was at fault, too, as she knew—or should have known—that her father was not licensed to massage, draw blood, perform vaginal exams, or prescribe medicine.
He had also given them nutritional counseling—which he was adequately trained to do.
The case dragged on until 1993, but Kate knew none of the specifics. She felt sorry for John, because even though he tried to reassure her, she knew he was worried—perhaps even frightened. He went to great lengths to avoid being served papers on the lawsuit. He seemed to be extremely concerned over the suit, which, as he explained to Kate, was over things too minor to even consider. In the end, he gave up his practice, turning it over to his daughter Tamara for a few cents on the dollar. He no longer went into his office at all.
“He changed his appearance,” Kate recalled. “He grew a beard, and he let his hair grow so long that he was able to wear it in a ponytail.”