Date: Fri, 11 Jun 2010 15:58:42 -0700 (PDT)
From: Jerlar <jetdesk2@yahoo.com>
Subject: Nurse and the Patient, Part 11

This story contains graphic sexual scenes between males. If material of
this nature offends you then you should not read this story.  Additionally,
if you are under 18 years of age in most states you are not allowed to read
this story by law.
  This story is purely a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to person's
living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely
coincidental.
  The author claims all copyrights to this story and no duplication or
publication of this story is allowed, except by the web sites to which it
has been posted, without the consent of the author.

Mark Stevens
Jetdesk2@yahoo.com



Nurse and the Patient, Part 11


	The next morning Jonathan took Lance to see Doctor Todd. He sat
quietly in the chair in the exam room listening to the doctor talk with his
patient.
	"Lance, your legs are healing very nicely," Doctor Todd said. "In
fact, I think you are ready to graduate to a walker," he added.
	He warned Lance not to over do things. "Just take it easy," he
advised.
	"Should he start out a little at a time on the walker?" Jon asked.
	Doctor Todd gave a nod and said, "Definitely work into using the
walker." He looked closely at Lance and continued. "I think you will know
when to use the walker and when to use your chair. You are the one who
knows your body best. I want to see you back here in two weeks," he told
both Jonathan and Lance.
	They left William Todd's office, and Jon drove to the medical
supply company the doctor had suggested and picked up a walker for
Lance. Then he drove home and helped Lance into the house.
	"Are you going to behave while I'm gone?" he asked his patient. His
lips formed into a grin as he asked the question.
	"Hell, I always behave," Lance assured him.
	"Yeah, sure you do."
	With Lance parked in his chair in the den, Jon hurried to his room
to pick up the briefcase Tony had suggested and to change into a business
suit. He returned in a few minutes looking more like an auditor than he did
nurse.
	"Leaving for work?"
	Jon nodded. "I am now Terry Watkins, Auditor, and no longer Jon
Davis, Nurse."
	Lance became serious, and he warned, "Be careful. Now that this has
started, I'm having second thoughts about the entire set up."
	"I'll be okay," Jon assured him. "Besides, now that I have you, I'm
not planning on going anywhere."
	"Are you going to the company or to the house?"
	"House," Jon answered. He gave his pocket a pat. "I have my cell if
you need anything."
	"Just be careful."
	Jon leaned over and gave Lance a kiss. "Love you, Babe."
	On the way to Sam Thompson's home Jon practiced what he would say
to Sarah, or whoever greeted him at the door. Already his heart was
beginning to race as if he had been jogging rather than driving to his
destination.
	He parked his car, reached for his briefcase and made his way up
the walk. His legs felt like rubber as they carried him up the steps. He
reached for the bell and heard the chimes echo behind the heavy door.
	The door opened, and suddenly he was face to face with the same
person that had admitted him the day before.
	"Good morning, Sarah," he greeted. "Terry Watkins of Barnes Taylor
& Watkins," he added.
	"I remember you," she answered curtly. "Please come inside."
	On the way over Jon had decided to start in Sam's office first and
then head down to the store room. He thought perhaps a few minutes behind
the closed office door would help to slow his heart beat down, giving him
time to form another plan where the store room was concerned.
	"Sarah, I will be in Mr. Thompson's office going over some files."
	"Is there anything I can get you?" she asked.
	He shook his head. "I'm fine, thank you."
	Sarah disappeared from sight just as quickly as she had the day
before on his visit, and Jonathan quickly made his way down the hall. He
turned to his left and reached for the door knob. It turned silently under
his fingers, and the door opened and moved back making no sound as it slid
across the thick carpet on the floor.
	He quickly closed the door and walked over to the big mahogany desk
standing in the middle of the room. He placed his briefcase down in the
center and quickly opened it. He took out a note pad and pencil and walked
over to where the filing cabinets stood covering one entire wall.
	He had no idea where to begin searching, so he opened the top one
on the left. He searched through several of the files but saw nothing that
looked anything out of the usual. Everything seemed to be in order and
seemed to contain information about Smyth Oil Company.
	A few minutes later he was startled when a knock was sounded on the
door.
	"Come in," he called."
	The door opened, and Sarah came inside the room. "I was just
checking sir," she greeted. "Is there anything you need?"
	"No, Sarah, I am fine. Thank you, though. I will call if I need
anything."
	Sarah looked around the room. She appeared to be studying the
surroundings, perhaps looking for anything that might have been changed or
moved around.
	Her eyes back on Jonathan, she said, "Very well, Sir, please see
that you do. Call me if you need anything," she added.
	She turned and quickly left the room, closing the door behind her.
	Once more alone in the room, Jon took a deep breath and let it
slowly out. He was certain Sarah realized something was up, and she was
going to make it her job to find out just what it was.
	He felt he was in the middle of something, but what, he had not a
clue.
	He spent another half hour going through more files, and like the
others, they, too, looked to be in order. They were records pertinent to
the oil company, and very well organized, he thought. Jonathan wondered if
Agnes Doughty had had a hand in putting them in order. They were well
detailed and very precise, just the way Agnes came off to him when he had
met her at the office. They could very well be a product of her work, he
decided.
	Jonathan finally decided it was time to head down to the store
room. He wasn't particularly looking forward to going down there, but he
knew he had to do it.
	He walked over to the desk and closed his briefcase. He picked it
up and walked toward the door. Turning the knob, he found himself standing
out in the hall. He pulled the door shut behind him and quickly walked
across to the locked door in front of him.
	The day before Tony had given him keys to the room, and now he
reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled a ring with two keys
out. Jon pressed the key into the lock and gave it a turn. As it had the
day before with Tony, it now gave another gentle click. Jon quickly opened
the door and reached for the light switch. Suddenly he was staring at the
steps that lead down to another locked door.
	Jon stepped on the landing and pushed the door closed behind
him. With the key still in his hand, he pushed it inside the opening and
gave the lock another twist, locking the door once again.
	He carefully made his way down the dim lighted stairs and stopped
before the second locked door.  He took the second key and inserted through
the opening. He held his breath as once again, he heard another soft
clicking sound. He pushed against the door and suddenly he was met in the
face by darkness. He took his hand and reached inside searching until he
found another light switch. He gave it a flip and suddenly bright light was
everywhere.
	He quickly walked inside and closed the door behind him. As he had
with the one at the top of the stairs, Jonathan also locked this door.
	Facing the room once more, he took in the stacks of boxes. They
were everywhere. His eyes traveled across the room and stopped when they
saw the boxes in the corner that Tony had mentioned on his first visit.
	"If anything is to be found, I feel certain it will be in those
boxes," Tony had said to him.
	"Well, let's just see what we have."
	As Jonathan spoke the words, he made his way over and picked up the
top box. There was a table in the middle of the room with a couple of
chairs on either side. He decided it would make a good work station.
	He sat the box down and pulled one of the chairs back. Taking a
seat, he removed the lid. He had no idea what he was looking for. He took
out the top piece of paper and looked it over.
	The box was about half full, and by the time Jon had gone through
it, he had discovered nothing. Just information on different business deals
for one particular year. Actually he found it rather boring to read.
	He returned it to the stack and brought back a second box. He hoped
it made better reading material than the first one had. The second box was
completely full and took him longer to go through.
	Like the first box, the second didn't offer anything that could
spell trouble in any way. Just more records about Smyth Oil and business
pertaining to the company.
	By one o'clock Jon had gone through six boxes and had turned up
nothing at all. He looked at his watch and discovered why his stomach had
been churning. He had spent the past three hours searching for something
and finding nothing at all.
	He placed his box back on the stack and with his pencil made a
small check on one side of a box. When he returned that would be the box he
would start with.
	Jonathan pushed the chair he had been using back underneath the
table. He looked around the room and decided everything looked the same as
when he had entered. He unlocked the door and reached for the light
switch. He gave it a flip and suddenly he was surrounded in darkness. The
dim light outside was barely adequate for him to see the stairs that led
upward.
	He locked the door to the store room and made his way up the steep
stairs. At the top he took the other key and soon had the door unlocked. He
turned the light out and quickly stepped out into the hall. As he locked
the door behind him, Jon discovered Sarah suddenly beside him.
	"Would you care for a bite of lunch, Mr. Watkins?"
	"That would be too much trouble," he answered. "Besides, you don't
have to feed me while I am here."
	"No trouble at all, Sir. In fact, I have a tray waiting for you now
in the dining room."
	What Jon really wanted to do was get the hell out of the house
immediately, and even though he had been hungry, the thought of eating food
from this place actually made him feel ill.
	Forcing himself to breathe, he said, "Why, thank you, Sarah. I
appreciate that very much. I will take time to eat what you have so
graciously prepared."
	"Shit, where did that come from, Jonathan wondered?
	"Follow me, Sir."
	Sarah turned, and without another word, she led the way down the
hall. She came to a closed door on her right and pushed it open. "In here,
please," she said. She stepped back to allow Jonathan room to enter through
the door.
	Jonathan walked into the room and sat down in the chair Sarah had
pulled out. A covered tray was on the table waiting.
	Jonathan forced a wide smile on his face and said, "Sarah, I really
appreciate this, I do. However, you should be aware that I never know just
where I will be or what I will be doing at lunch time, so, please, don't
bother trying to have a meal for me. I can always find something to eat."
He gave his stomach a pat. "Besides, it probably wouldn't hurt me to miss a
meal now and then," he added.
	"Very well, Sir."
	She disappeared out of sight leaving Jonathan alone with his food.
	He removed the cover and was surprised to discover a plate of very
attractive food before him. There was a piece of baked chicken, some
stuffing topped with gravy, a small salad, and even a piece of cake for
dessert.
	Jonathan smiled and thought, "Hell, maybe I should reconsider and
tell her I will eat here on a daily basis."
	The food was very delicious, and when Jonathan had finished, he was
surprised it had tasted so good to him, and that he had actually enjoyed
his meal.
	He looked at his wrist watch again. This time it told him it was
one-thirty.
	Should he return to the store room and search some more, or, should
he call it a day and check on his patient, he wondered?
	Jonathan remained at the table for a time thinking things over in
his head. Finally he decided he would call it a day and head home. If
everything was going well there with Lance, he might return for a couple of
hours and do some more searching. He just wasn't sure what he was searching
for.
	He left the Thompson residence and returned to Lance's
home. Parking the car in the drive, he hurried inside the house.
	"Hello," he called out.
	"In here," Lance called from the den.
	Jon hurried through the kitchen and joined Lance.
	"You doing okay?" he asked.
	Lance nodded. "I'm great. "How's it going for you?"
	Jon shrugged his shoulders. "Spent the entire morning going through
files in the store room," he said.
	"Find anything interesting?"
	"Nothing but business papers," he answered.
	"Didn't see anything unusual?"
	"Not that I was aware of. Everything so far looks to be in order."
	"Anyone seem to question you being there?"
	"The only person I saw was Sarah. I get the feeling she did not
like me being there one bit."
	"Why is that?"
	"Just the way she always seemed to be hovering where ever I
was. She even fed me lunch."
	"Is that so? Shit, you must have made a really good impression on
her."
	"I'm not so sure about that." Jonathan looked closely at Lance. "I
may go back later this afternoon if you're doing okay."
	"I'm doing great," Lance assured him.
	"Have you eaten yet?"
	"I made myself a sandwich earlier."
	"Damn, you're not going to need me much longer, I can see that."
	"I'll always need you, Babe," Lance assured him.
	Jonathan leaned over and kissed him. "Have you been using the
walker to move around?"
	Lance nodded. "Yeah, I have, although it makes me really tired to
walk with it."
	"It will for a while. After you get use to walking with one I think
you'll like it."
	"I'll really like it when I can walk on my own two legs again."
	"You will in time."
	About an hour later Jonathan gave Tony a call and told him he was
returning back to the Thompson home.
	"How did things go there so far?" Tony asked.
	"I spent a couple hours in the store room, but so far nothing has
turned up," Jon told him. "I'll give you a call this evening when I get
home. I'm still not sure what I'm supposed to be looking for."
	"Just keep your eyes opened," Tony told him before saying goodbye.
	Jon picked up his briefcase and said, "Well, guess I'm going back
to work. I'll see you later this evening."
	Lance reached over and placed a hand on Jonathan's shoulder. "Just
promise me you will be careful."
	Jon smiled and said, "I'll do my best. Bye."
	Jonathan drove back to the Thompson residence once again and
hurried up to the door. As he rang the bell, he suddenly had a thought. He
wished like hell Tony could get a key for him so he wouldn't have to
announce himself each time he arrived. However, he knew that would never
happen, and it was probably just as well.
	"Mr. Watkins, you're back," was the greeting he received from
Sarah.
	"I'm sorry, should I have called first?"
	"That's quite all right. Please, come inside."
	Jonathan walked down the hall and didn't wait for Sarah to do her
disappearing act. He thought it best to go into Sam Thompson's office
first. He turned the knob and pushed the heavy door back across the
carpet. He disappeared inside and closed the door after him.
	Jonathan looked around the room. Everything seemed in order and
just the way he had left it. He didn't see any sense in spending much time
here. He was sure Sam Thompson had everything in order in this room. There
wouldn't be a thing out of place, and, certainly there would be no sign of
whatever it was that Lance's father had going on.
	Jonathan forced himself to wait ten minutes before, with briefcase
in hand, he made his way out the door.
	In the hall, he looked for signs of Sarah and found none. Silence
echoed from every direction as he stopped in front of the locked door. He
pulled the key from his pocket once more and quickly inserted it in the
hole. He gave it a quick twist and pushed the door back. Taking time to
turn the lock back in place, he hurried down the stairs and let himself
back into the store room.
	As his eyes grew accustomed to the bright light he looked around
the room. Nothing seemed different. He didn't know why, but it had crossed
his mind someone might come down to check on what he had been up
to. However, if Sam Thompson had gone to the trouble of installing two
locked doors, he most likely wouldn't trust his hired help with a key.
	Jonathan placed his briefcase on the table top once more and walked
over to the same stack of boxes he had been working out of before.
	As he studied each box before him, he became puzzled. Thinking he
had over looked a box, Jonathan looked at the first box he had
searched. His eyes traveled over each box, and no matter how hard he tried
he couldn't find the box he had marked. He was certain he had placed a
check in the upper corner of the next box he needed to search. The harder
he looked, the more confused he became. There was not a check on any of the
boxes before him, no mark of any kind.
	"Someone has been down here." Without realizing it, Jonathan had
spoke the words out loud.
	He sat down at the table and leaned back in the chair. Who had been
down here, he wondered? Who else had a key? Looking across the room at the
boxes lined up against the wall, he thought, "I just don't see Sam Thompson
allowing anyone access to this room. Not even Sarah, he added to his
thoughts.
	As he continued staring at the boxes, he had another thought. If
someone had removed a box and left the rest, that pretty much told Jonathan
that nothing else of real importance was left in the store room; of that,
he was pretty damned sure.
	He sat there for a time allowing his thoughts to run through his
brain. Finally he got up and walked back over to the boxes and counted
them. There were seventeen lined up against the wall. He jotted the count
down on the top sheet of his tablet.  He walked over and picked up his
briefcase, and unlocking the door once more, he turned the light off and
left the room, locking the door behind him.
	When Jonathan reached the top, he unlocked the door and stepped out
into the hallway. He turned and locked the door and slowly made his way
along the hall to the front part of the house.
	After walking a few feet, he suddenly stopped. Through the echoing
silence it sounded as if there were other foot steps other than just his
own. He paused for a moment listening, but all he heard was the loud
silence that had him completely surrounded.
	Jonathan started walking once more. When he reached the front door,
he paused, listened, and then quickly opened the door and stepped out onto
the wide porch. As he pulled the door shut behind him, whether or not
Jonathan felt he was being watched, there were eyes who followed him as he
made his way down the steps and walked toward his car.



End of Chapter 11

Mark Stevens