by Ava Mallory
As soon as I stepped into the tub, I heard my front door open and what sounded like a parade of people walking in, talking and laughing.
“Mercy?”
The last person I wanted in my house was that woman. Why is Kitty here and who did she bring with her?
“Hello? Mercy, where are you?”
James? What is he doing here?
Someone knocked on the bathroom door. “Sorry, Mercy, James and Katherine took us sightseeing.” Tina explained.
I shot straight up. So much for a relaxing bath.
“Tina?” I asked, my voice shrieking.
“Yep. Don't worry about us. Enjoy your bath.” Tina said it as if it were a remote possibility. No way could I relax knowing that both my ex-husband and his bride-to-be were traipsing around in my house.
“Yes, take all the time you need. I'm not going anywhere.”
No, it can't be. No way. Someone tell me this is just a bad dream and I'll wake up soon.
Chapter Four
All eyes were on me as I stepped outside in a rush before the driver honked for me again. He stepped out of the car and opened the door, nodding at me as I walked to the car.
“Good Morning, Ma'am,” he said.
“Hi! It's early.” I looked around and saw the neighbor's faces as they stared out their windows at me. I could only imagine what they must have been thinking.
The driver grinned. “Sir asked that I pick you up first thing in the morning and that's what I've done. We will make our stop first, then, head on over to the manor.”
The manor? Stop?
“What stop?” I asked, thinking I must have missed the part when we discussed it.
“Ms. Bernal has asked that we purchase appropriate attire for you. Sir requires a certain aesthetic when it comes to his employees.” The driver explained.
“First of all, what is your name and, secondly, what's wrong with my clothing? I've always worn scrubs throughout my entire nursing career. Why are they a problem now? What am I supposed to be wearing?” I thought I looked pretty good. The nerve of these people.
The older gentleman blushed. “I apologize for my employer. He has very specific tastes and preferences. My name is Scooter. Scooter Briggs.” He smiled at me.
“Scooter? Well, that's a great name.” Guilt made me cool my jets. I was getting upset with someone who was just following orders. I couldn't fault him for that.
He laughed. “You don't want to know my real name. I've been called Scooter for so long, I'm not even sure I remember what my name is these days.” He eyed me in the mirror. “Shall we make that stop now?”
I hadn't been shopping in quite some time, not for clothes for myself at least. Most of my shopping was limited to groceries and items for my house. I was the kind of person who held onto things. If I paid good money for it, there was no reason to get rid of it. That was my motto. Hence, why I still drove around in my jalopy.
Taking a gander at the scrubs I was wearing, I'd guess that this particular set of scrubs had been purchased somewhere circa 1980 give or take a few years, so I suppose, I was probably due for a new set of scrubs or two, but I sure as sugar didn't want Mr. Rich paying for them. That just didn't sit well with me. I was a self-made woman. I took great pride in paying my own way in the world.
You see, I'm old school in so many ways, except when it came to traditional roles. Now, I'm no spoil sport. I loved preparing meals for my husband and daughter, but I didn't do so because it was my job. I did it because I wanted to do it. There's a difference.
“Yes, but I'm paying for the scrubs, not your employer.” I said.
Scooter smiled. “He's your employer too. Be prepared for all sorts of surprises where he is concerned. He's a bit eccentric and craves... Well, that's probably a strong word. He likes the limelight. Years ago, he fancied himself a bit of a ladies man, but when age and years of who knows what finally caught up with him, he sought out other ventures.”
“Other ventures? What kind of ventures? I'm sorry. I don't mean to pry, but I guess I must be the only person in town who doesn't know exactly what it is that Mr. Rich does for a living or, in his case, what he did.” I thought this was the perfect opportunity to gather some information and get some insight into who this man – the myth, the legend – really was and why Ruby was in such a tizzy when she'd spoken about him.
Scooter pulled the car over and turned to speak to me. “Really? You've never heard of him? Well, I think, you're the first person I'd ever heard say that.”
I didn't know how to respond to that without seeming rude. The truth was prior to this assignment, I didn't really care to know about a man that didn't have a direct influence on my life. I was no prude or anything. I was just busy.
“He's an investor. That's what he calls himself these days. You know the part of town he lives in – Richland Estates? Well, his development company built that and probably half of the developments in Northern California and beyond. He comes from old money. His family had their hands in everything from steel to oil to iron ore. Some years back, his father ran for office. Granted, it was a state office, but he held it for many, many years. All that he had, went to his beloved son, Nathaniel. He didn't leave a dime to either of Mr. Rich's sisters and they haven't stopped bellyaching about that for decades. You'll meet them and see for yourselves how bitter, they are about the whole ordeal.” Scooter explained.
“So, there's bad blood? That's such a shame. Is there a Mrs. Rich?” I asked because I hadn't seen any photos of someone who could be his wife.
Scooter laughed a hearty laugh. “Oh, that's a road you don't want to go down. Mr. Rich lives alone these days, well, except for Cash, of course. Now, we don't speak about his ex or make mention of anything related to marriage where Mr. Rich is concerned.”
“How did Cash come to live with him? Where are Cash's parents?” I asked, hoping I wasn't pushing my luck with all of my questions.
The question brought our conversation to a halt. Scooter's smile faded and was replaced by frown lines.
“Let's call this one of those things that we don't discuss, privately or publicly. Well, here's the credit card. I've been instructed to tell you that Mr. Rich would prefer that you wear a traditional nurse's uniform. I'll wait right here for you while you shop.” He said, eager to change the subject.
I wonder what that's all about. I took the card, but no way was I planning on using it.
*
“You're late,” Lucilla said as she handed me a tray with assorted breakfast items on it. “Take this upstairs to him and make sure he eats all of it. I don't know what's going on, but he hasn't been interested in eating lately.
You think it might have anything to do with all that food he has stashed in his closet?
I walked up the stairs, carrying the tray and my bag, ready to report for duty. My crisp, white uniform that was in desperate need of fabric softener must have met her approval because she didn't protest.
I knocked on Cash's bedroom door.
“Who is it,” he yelled in a singsong voice.
If anything could ease tension, it was the sound of a child's voice. When I opened the door, I was surprised by the way he looked. His eyelids drooped. His skin was pale.
“How are you feeling today,” I asked, reaching for his wrist to feel his pulse. It beat rapidly.
“My head hurts,” he answered, closing his eyes.
“How long has it hurt?” I asked, counting his respirations.
“Forty years,” he answered, grinning at me.
I adjusted the pile of blankets that were wrapped around his tiny body. “Are you cold?” I asked.
He shook his head and helped me remove the blankets. “No, but Lucilla thinks I am. She's always babying me.”
His blue pajamas were drenched in sweat. I immediately pulled all of the blankets off of him. “Let's take your temperature, then, we'll get you out of those clothes.”
Cash cooperated. He was lethargic, but relatively coherent. Af
ter I had him settled, I stepped out of the room for a moment to deposit his wet clothing and blankets into the second floor laundry room, all the while keeping my eyes out for any sign of Lucilla or Nathaniel.
When I returned, Cash had fallen asleep. His breathing was nice and easy, but I still had concerns and I made a phone call to his doctor.
The first question Dr. Lazaro asked was, “Did he sneak out again?”
“Sneak out? He just had surgery, remember? I doubt that he went anywhere.” What an odd question to ask.
Dr. Lazaro cleared his throat. “You're right. I just never know when it comes to Cash. He is a stubborn one. Doctor's orders are not his strong suit.”
It seemed to me that there was a lot of secrecy around Cash. I'd have to find out why that was.
“Why aren't you with Cash?” Lucilla was carrying a basket of laundry up the stairs.
I explained that I'd just stepped out to speak to his physician.
Lucilla abandoned the basket and immediately rushed into his room.
“He's asleep,” I warned her, but that didn't stop her.
“Cash, what's wrong? Why didn't you tell me that you weren't feeling well? Wake up. We have to get you into an ice bath. You're burning up.” Lucilla urged him.
“No, you don't. I'm going to follow the doctor's orders,” I told her. “He needs to take a fever reducer every four hours and drink plenty of fluids.”
“But, he's just a baby. His body won't be able to take that fever.” Lucilla touched her lips to his forehead. I had to stifle a giggle, because I'd seen that done thousands of times and had done it myself over the years. Call it mother's intuition or an old wive's tale, we all had our own methods of diagnosing when a loved one was ill.
Cash opened his eyes for a moment and grinned at Lucilla. I could see that their bond was strong. I quietly went about my duties, making notes of his current state.
That's so sweet, I thought as I watched her tend to him.
Lucilla voice bellowed out. “I've raised this child since he was an infant. He's like one of my own. Look, I don't know why Sir Rich hired you, other than to say because he was trying to impress little what's her name, but we did well on our own here before you got here. I know Cash. I know what he likes. I know his routine. Maybe this was a bad idea. In fact, I know it was a bad idea. I'm going to take a stand. Besides, after what happened, who knows what the financial situation will be around here. Maybe, it's just time for you to go.”
Did she just fire me?
Cash's eyes popped open. “Why are you yelling at her? I like her.”
Thank God someone liked me!
Lucilla looked at him and sighed. “I'm just saying that some things are going to have to change, but when it comes to Cash, I am in charge, not you. Please, remember that you work for him, not the other way around.”
“I don't understand. What did I do wrong? All I wanted to do was to make sure that he was fine. I called the doctor. That's my job.” I said firmly. Holding my ground would be paramount in this situation.
She got up and walked out of the room, slamming it behind her.
“You're in trouble,” Cash teased before closing his eyes again.
*
I prepared Cash's medications and tidied up his room while he slept. His fever had gone down pretty quickly. That, I was glad for.
I'd done all I could to keep myself occupied and out of Lucilla's way, not even leaving to take a break. That was my plan of attack for the entire time I'd be under Nathaniel's employ.
The once quiet house was soon filled with noise, coming from downstairs. I heard the doorbell ring several times and listened as a new voice entered the conversation.
Who is that? Police?
Soon, Nathaniel walked into the room. “Mercy, may I see you for a moment?”
He didn't so much as glance at his sleeping grandson. I didn't like that and, boss or not, I wanted to ask him about it. This poor little boy was ill and spent his days alone in a bedroom. The least his grandfather cold do was acknowledge his existence.
I stepped outside the room after touching the back of my hand to Cash's forehead. His temperature felt normal. I hoped he'd gotten through the worst.
Nathaniel was making his way down the stairs, and looked back over his shoulder. “I'm going to need you to speak to reporters. Have the boy cleaned up and camera ready.”
“Excuse me? What do you mean, we are going to speak to reporters? The boy's name is Cash or did you forget?”
Was that out of line?
He raised his voice. “Listen here, Miss, I know my grandchild's name. He's the only one I have. Now, get him and yourself prepared. The reporters are here.”
Detective Ortiz stood in the doorway with Lucilla watching our exchange with a stunned expression on her face.
“No reporters. I don't think it's wise to involve reporters or do interviews. And, nothing good can come from using your grandson as a pawn in whatever it is you are trying to do.” Detective Ortiz tried to warn him gently.
An impeccably dressed woman, wearing a face full of makeup, emerged from the study. “We're ready, Mr. Rich.” She called out to him.
Detective Ortiz' eyebrows quirked up as she fixed her gaze on Nathaniel. He didn't back down though. He turned to the reporter and said, “We'll be right with you.”
Lucilla put her hands up in the air. “No, that's it. Mercy, I'm afraid we're going to have to let you go.”
*
“Are you following me?” I stopped walking and turned to face the detective.
“Yes,” she said. “Do you have a few minutes?”
I nodded, annoyed that I'd been dragged into this nonsense and then spit out like I was nothing.
“What happened in there?” She pointed to the Rich house, a half a block behind us.
I explained the crazy conversations I'd had with Lucilla, Nathaniel, and the driver, Scooter. She listened, again, not taking any notes, just listening to my every word.
When I was done, she smiled, thanked me and walked away.
These people make me so mad!
“Tina, can you come pick me up, hon?” I took a few minutes to calm down before I called to ask for a ride home. I didn't believe in taking my work home and I wasn't going to start doing that now. This was my mess and I'd deal with it, except when Ruby found out, then she'd feel the need to deal with it too.
“Sure, but I thought you were working all day today?” She asked.
“I thought so too,” I said. “I just really need to take a few days to regroup and spend some time with you and Noah. This place isn't a good fit for me. I don't fit in here. The little guy is sweet as all get out, but everyone else just makes my blood pressure hit unheard of levels.
Tina didn't ask any further questions. “I'll be there in a few minutes and, I should warn you, your neighbor has organized some kind of get-together and – you're going to love this – she said you're going to be in charge of security of the neighborhood. I didn't know you were pimping out your amateur detective skills. This could be a thing, if you ever wanted to retire from nursing.” She teased.
“No chance of that happening.” I said. “She really volunteered me?”
I loved Margie, but I didn't want to be roped into yet another commitment. I didn't know the first thing about security, other than to try to remember to keep my doors and windows locked and to not lose my keys in the process. This sounded like a horrible idea. I had to figure a way out of it before things got too far out of control.
Chapter Five
I'd never seen so many of my neighbors gathered together in one place at the same time. I guess the lawn ornament thief had gotten to everyone in the neighborhood. Margie made a beeline for me as soon as she heard the door close behind me.
“Good. You're here, but I thought you had to work today?” She pulled me in for a quick hug.
I didn't want to get into a big discussion about work. I hadn't quite figured out what had happened. One minute, I'm
employed for a family, everyone else in town seemed to be in awe of and the next, I'm no longer employed there. I was just glad that my real employer was the agency and not any of the people I provided work for. I loved my patients and most of their families or loved ones, but there were those that made me want to pull my hair out and run for the hills.
“I thought this was more important right now. They have plenty of staff. I think they'll be fine without me. Anyway, so what are we doing here?” I asked, pointing to the others in the room.
She grabbed my arm and pulled me inside. “You're in charge, you tell me.”