Date: Wed, 23 Mar 2011 21:24:40 -0700 (PDT)
From: Jerlar <jetdesk2@yahoo.com>
Subject: Nurse and the Patient, Part 15

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 15

	"Terry Watkins" walked inside Edith Baxter's old fashion living
room for the third time. He had called her an hour ago and asked if he
could come to see her one more time. He thought she was going to refuse to
see him, but she finally agreed to his visit.
	He smiled at her as he took a seat once more on the faded sofa in
her living room. "I want to thank you, Miss Baxter, for agreeing to see
me. I realize I am making a pest out of myself."
	"Would you like some coffee, Terry?"
	"That would be nice."
	She left the room and returned shortly with a tray. On it were two
cups of steaming hot coffee. As she handed him a cup she asked how he drank
it.
	"Just black," he assured her.
	"Good, that's the way it should be enjoyed."
	Edith took her own cup and took a seat across the room. The chair
she sat in was just as faded and matched the sofa Jonathan was on. "Now,
what is on your mind this time?" she asked.
	"I would like you to tell me some things about Samuel Thompson."
	"Just what is it you want to know?"
	Just what he needed, Jonathan thought to himself. She does seem to
enjoy talking in circles. Aloud, he said, "Why don't you start with the
first time you remember Sam coming around," he suggested.
	Edith Baxter concentrated on the cup she was holding. She had the
look of a person who was seeing another world. Finally she said, "The first
time I remember Samuel being around was about three or four years before
Ronald passed away. Like I told you yesterday, the man came to work for the
company, working with the legal affairs."
	"What was he like back then? I mean when he was younger?"
	A sharp look appeared on her face. "Same then as today, I would
imagine. I haven't seen him in years, with the exception of when I attended
Kathleen's funeral. I saw him there, but I didn't speak to him."
	Jonathan was a little surprised about her last statement. "You went
to his wife's funeral, yet you didn't even speak to the man?"
	"Mr. Watkins, I'll have you know I was there for Lance's sake, not
Sam Thompson's."
	"I'm glad you were there for Lance."
	Damn that was stupid. Silently Jonathan scolded himself for saying
the words he had.
	"Why would you care one way or the other about why I was there?"
	He tried for damage control. "Well, obviously Lance had just lost
his mother, and it's evident that you care a lot for the man. That's all I
meant."
	"You are right, I do care for him."
	"Good, I am glad you do. Now, go on, tell me all you can about his
father."
	"Well, like I said, Samuel came to the company three or four years
before Ronald died. He wasn't there anytime until I could tell he was out
to get whatever he could for himself. That was just the kind of man he
was. That he is," she corrected herself.
	When she paused, Jonathan said, "Go head, continue, if you will."
	"Sam never did care for Carter. For some reason he was jealous of
the boy from the start. He was, after all, Ronald's right hand man."
	"You're speaking of Carter, am I correct?"
	"You are correct." Her face took on a tender look. "He was such a
caring wonderful person. I can't help but think how much better off the
company would have been had it been him, rather than Samuel that took over
the running of the company."
	"Would that have been a possibility?"
	"Oh, I think so," she answered. "Oh, it would have been years down
the road, but I think it would have happened eventually."
	"Of course, I guess you really can't say for certain, being that
was a long time ago and Mr. Smyth died so young."
	"Oh, I feel certain it would have happened."
	Jonathan jotted some notes down on his pad. Then looking at her
once again, he asked, "What can you tell me about Agnes Doughty? Did she
come to work for the company while you were still there?"
	"Oh, yes she did. She worked a little over a year before I
left. You should have seen the two of them together."
	"Seen who, Edith?"
	"That Jezebel and the No Good; they were always sneaking around,
looking for ways to spend time together."
	"You're speaking of Agnes and Sam, I take it?"
	"I most certainly am. It was shameful the way the two of them
carried on."
	"Carried on?"
	"They began having an affair, sneaking off whenever they could find
an excuse."
	"I'm a bit confused. You say the two of them were having an
affair. Was Kathleen in the picture? Where Sam was concerned, I mean."
	She shook her head. "Not at all," she said. "I told you she and
Carter were in love with each other."
	"Did Mr. Smyth know about their situation?"
	"Very much," she nodded. "That's why I think Ronald would have
eventually turned the entire company over to Carter. He thought highly of
the young man."
	"So, how was it that Kathleen and Sam got together? Especially if
Sam was already having an affair with another woman? He added.
	"Don't you see? Kathleen was not only devastated about losing
Carter, but at the same time she was overwhelmed at inheriting a huge
family business. It was such a huge responsibility for a twenty year old
girl. That's what she was at the time, a girl. It was just too much for
her. Like I told you earlier, Samuel Thompson was out to get whatever he
could for himself. What better way to get his greedy hands into the pot of
gold than to be there offering advice and a good shoulder for Kathleen to
cry on. She eagerly turned it over to him at the time. She didn't know any
better."
	"So you're telling me it took Sam approximately three months to
comfort her, as you say, and get the woman to marry him?"
	"That's about the size of it."
	Jonathan wrote a few more things down in his notebook. Then he
said, "Tell me, Edith, when did you leave Smyth Oil Company? Wasn't it
sometime during this initial time frame we're talking about here?"
	A bitter look came over her face. "It was," she said. "About a week
or so after Ronald's funeral it was announced that Samuel Thompson would be
taking over the responsibility of running the company, along side of Miss
Smyth. Then sometime in early December Sam called me into his new office
and told me he thought I would enjoy an early retirement. He said the
company would soon be going through some drastic changes, and he didn't
want to put any pressure on me to learn these changes. He said the company
was only thinking of my best interests and wanted to help me enjoy life a
little better."
	"In other words, he didn't want you in the office any longer?"
	She nodded. "That is correct. So, December 31st of that year I was
officially retired."
	"1975, right?"
	"That's correct."
	"Then as I have it, two months later Sam and Kathleen were
married."
	Edith didn't respond to his last statement, rather, she just sat
there in her chair. She looked as if the past was coming back to haunt her,
and she had such a sad look on her face.
	"Edith?"
	Edith Baxter focused her eyes on Jonathan. "I'm sorry. What were
you saying?"
	"I just commented on the fact that Sam and Kathleen must have been
married a couple of months after you retired."
	"That's right."
	Jonathan watched as a tear ran down the old woman's cheek. For the
first time it actually hit him just how hard it must have been on Edith
Baxter, to go through all that she did. And now, he was forcing her to
relive it all over.
	"I'm so sorry, Edith. It's not my intention to cause you any more
sadness. I realize you have been through a lot."
	Edith reached for a Kleenex and quickly wiped her cheek. Giving him
a sharp look, she said, "Can you promise me something, Terry?"
	"If I can," he answered.
	"Can you promise me that Sam will pay for all the wrong he's done?"
	Jonathan was thoughtful for a moment. Finally he said, "Edith, I
honestly don't know where this will all lead or where it will end up, but
if I can find even one thing Samuel Thompson has done illegally, I promise
you, he will pay for it. You have my word on that."
	He was surprised to see such a look of relief on the old woman's
face. Deciding to say more, he said, "That's why I'm bugging the hell out
of you. I feel that if anyone has a true take on what all has happened at
Smyth Oil these past many years, it would be you."
	Jonathan's cell phone went off in his pocket. When he looked at the
screen, he discovered the caller to be Tony Miller.
	"Excuse me, Edith, I need to take this."
	"This is Terry," he spoke into the phone.
	In his ear Tony said, "Sorry to bother you, Terry. There's not much
time to talk. Agnes just came to my office and told me she wanted to speak
with you. I had no choice but to give your number to her. She will be
calling you shortly."
	"No problem. Thanks."
	Jonathan ended the conversation and placed his cell on the sofa
beside him.
	"Sorry about that. Now, where were we?"
	"You had just promised me something would be done about Samuel,"
she reminded.
	He nodded. "I think what I said was that if I could turn up even
one thing on Sam that I would make him somehow pay for it."
	He looked closely at Edith and said, "Now, Edith, I want you to be
completely honest with me. Have you told me everything you know about any
of this situation? That includes anything you might know concerning Ronald
and Kathleen Smyth, Sam Thompson and even his son Lance. To be honest with
you, I feel you hold a key that might just unlock this entire matter. What
about Carter Wilson? What's the real story on that young man?"
	While he waited for her to speak, Jonathan studied her closely. He
was surprised when the woman suddenly lost all of her composure and burst
into tears. Thinking it best to remain silent and let her be, Jonathan just
sat there. As a nurse, he had been trained, not only in medical treatment,
but also how to just listen to his patients, and in general, be there for
them.
	Jonathan stood to his feet and made his way slowly through the room
and out to the kitchen. He found a class sitting beside the sink and
quickly filled it with water. He rejoined Edith and touched her shoulder.
	"Here," he said gently.
	She took the glass from him. Forcing a smile to her lips, she took
a swallow of the water.  "Thanks," she said.
	Jonathan took his seat once more, remaining silent. He would wait
on her.
	Edith sat the glass on the table beside her chair and looked across
the room toward Jonathan. In a voice barely audible, she said, "He was my
son."
	When Jonathan heard those words, it took him by such a surprise he
realized his mouth had opened, and his chin had dropped drastically; when
he realized it, he forced his mouth to close. He was afraid to say anything
for fear she wouldn't continue.
	Suddenly she looked at him, and there was defiance in her
eyes. "There, I finally said it, and I'm glad I did."
	"Carter Wilson was your son?"
	She nodded. "Terry, things didn't use to be the way they are
nowadays. Fifty years ago, especially in this town, a young girl just
didn't raise a child single handedly. If there was no husband in the
picture, well, it just was unheard of, and"
	"So you found him a home with both parents," Jonathan finished for
her.
	Sighing she said, "That's right."
	Jonathan couldn't help himself. Without thinking, he went over and
placed a hand on her shoulder. "Edith, I have no doubt how much you loved
your little boy. I can't tell you I know how you felt, because I couldn't
possibly know; however, I would have to say it took a bigger love to do
what you did than to have raised him."
	"Do you really think so?"
	He nodded. "I really do."
	Jonathan gave her shoulder another squeeze and then returned to the
sofa. He was about to speak when his cell phone sounded beside him.
	"I'm sorry, but I really do need to take this."
	"This is Terry," he spoke into the phone.
	It was Agnes Doughty.
	He was definitely glad Tony had warned him about her call.
	"Yes, may I help you?"
	"I am so sorry to trouble you, Mr. Watkins."
	"No trouble at all. What may I do for you?"
	Her next words shook Jonathan to the very core, made his stomach
feel as if giant butterflies had begun attacking inside his body.
	"Since your company is doing this audit for whatever reason, I have
remembered some information you might like to see. Would it be possible for
you to meet me at Mr. Thompson's residence? The file I am speaking of is
located in the store room. You are familiar with the storage room, I take
it?"
	"I am," he answered.
	Jonathan didn't tell the woman he had searched everything inside
that room and had come up with nothing. Instead he said, "I'm tied up the
rest of the morning. What about this afternoon?"
	"Afternoon would be better for me as well. Shall we meet there, say
around two o'clock?"
	"Two would be fine. I'll see you then, Miss Doughty."
	As Jonathan ended his telephone conversation, he looked across the
room at Edith. "Yes, that was Agnes Doughty, and I will tell you this; she
is up to something, I have no doubt."
	He went on to tell Edith about the meeting he was to have with
Agnes Doughty.
	"Terry, you have to be careful. That woman is up to no good, I
would almost bet everything I have."
	Jonathan had to agree with the old woman. Aloud he said, "Well, I
will worry about Agnes later. Let's get back to you."
	"You're wondering who I gave my baby to, aren't you?"
	"I can't help but wonder. He was being as honest with her as he
possibly could. Well, maybe not quite as honest as he could have. He could
tell her who he really was and why he was doing what he was doing. He hoped
that after this was all settled that she could forgive him for deceiving
her.
	"When I was in school, my best friend was Elizabeth Rogers. We were
best of chums, starting in elementary, even through high school. Right
after high school Beth married Charles Wilson." Smiling sadly at Jonathan,
she went on, saying, "For me it didn't turn out quite the same. That summer
I met someone." She paused. "His name's not important. He promised me a
good life, but later that summer when I told him I was going to have his
baby, well, he suddenly decided he was too good for that life. He just
disappeared one night, and I never heard from him again. I didn't know who
to turn to. I had two very strict parents, and if I had chosen to keep the
baby, they would have had absolutely nothing to do with me. I would have
been removed from the house."
	She smiled then, and Jonathan thought it was the saddest smile he
had ever seen on a human face. "Things just sort of worked out the way they
did, for the best. About that time Beth, who was also pregnant,
miscarried. The doctor told her there would be no more babies for her." She
sighed. "Plain and simple, Beth could support a baby, and I could not. End
of story," she added.
	Jonathan forced himself to remain quiet for one full moment. Then
he asked, "Did Carter ever know the truth?"
	She shook her head. "I never told him." Another tear made its way
slowly down her cheek. "Never did," she repeated.
	"Did anyone know the truth? I mean, other than the Wilson's."
	"Ronald Smyth knew."
	Even though the words were spoken in a whisper, they caused the
blood to flow rapidly through Jonathan's veins, causing his head to pound.
	"Your employer knew? Even though it had happened before you went to
work for him?"
	She nodded and remained silent.
	Suddenly it dawned upon Jonathan why she would have told Ronald
Smyth her secret. "You were in love with Ronald Smyth." It was a statement,
rather than a question.
	"His wife had died when Kathleen was born. He never remarried."
	"Did he return your love, Edith?"
	"It was different in those days."
	Jonathan asked, "Different, how?"
	"Well, to start with, Ronald was my employer. We had to keep things
in the right prospective."
	"Unlike Sam and Agnes, I guess."
	"I would never have cheapened myself the way she did. Neither would
Ronald."
	"He did love you."
	"We cared for each other. Let's just leave it at that."
	"I understand.
	Jonathan studied the note pad he was holding on his lap. "Edith, do
you by any chance remember what Sam's middle name is?"
	For a moment she seemed to be deep in thought. Finally she said,
"To be honest with you, I don't think Sam has a middle name. I think when
he signed his name it was always Samuel something Thompson. Seems to me he
just had a middle initial," she added.
	"Could it be Samuel T. Thompson?"
	"Yes, I remember now," she said. "Samuel T. Thompson was the way he
always signed his name."
	"I see."
	"Why do you ask?"
	"Because our audit is finding that some company has been hired by
Sam to do some consulting for him. He's paying this firm some pretty big
bucks to do whatever it is they are doing for him. He has been in contact
quite frequently with a man named Trevor Jordan."
	"Jordan, you say?"
	"That's correct. Do you know him?"
	"I don't think so. I do remember that Sam's mother was a Jordan
before she married Sam's father."
	"You're kidding me."
	"It's been a long time ago. Sam's parents have been dead thirty
years or better."
	"How convenient," Jonathan said dryly.
	"Oh, they were honest enough, I believe," Edith told him. "Seems
like I remember they were on a trip, and there was some sort of
accident. It's been so long I really can't remember."
	"An accident, you say? Seems to me accidents are quite frequent
where Samuel Thompson's concerned.
	"I would have to agree with you; however, I don't think he was
involved in that at all. By the time they were killed, Sam was sitting in
tall cotton. Well, after all, by that time, he had the Smyth fortune in the
palm of his hand"
	Jonathan closed his note pad. "It looks like I'm getting some good
facts to work with. Now, all I have to do is prove they're true."
	He stood to his feet and walked across the room. He stood in front
of Edith's chair. "I promise you, Edith, I will do my best to prove
something is wrong here. In my gut I know something is...I just have to
uncover it."
	"I appreciate what you are doing, Terry. I want to help you in any
way I can. For the first time since I gave my baby away I feel as if I can
finally do something for him. Does that sound like a crazy old woman
talking?"
	"No, it doesn't. It sounds like the love of a true mother wanting
to help her son."
	Edith stood to her feet. Are you meeting with Agnes Doughty now?"
	He looked at his wrist watch. "It's still a little early. She said
two o'clock. I'm going to run by the office first before I meet with her."
	She reached out and placed both hands on his shoulders. "Be
careful, Terry. That woman is dangerous."
	To himself, Jonathan had to agree. Aloud he said, "I'll watch
myself."
	Then he surprised himself by leaning over and planting a kiss on
her forehead. "You be careful as well." Then with an after thought he
added, "You might be careful who you open the door for."
	"You're not serious?"
	"Edith, I couldn't be more serious. There is a lot at steak here,
and something tells me that no way in hell are either Samuel nor Agnes
going to give any of this up without fighting."
	When Jonathan stood on the porch, he turned and faced her. "Edith,
promise me you will keep your door locked."
	She smiled warmly and said, "I promise."
	Jonathan hurried to his car and crawled on the seat behind the
wheel. He reached for his cell phone and then changed his mind. Instead, he
dropped it on the seat beside him and started the engine of his car. He
backed out into the street and drove slowly down the road. When he was
about five blocks away from Edith's house, he pulled his car over to the
side of the road. He reached for his phone once again and punched in a
number.
	"Hey, he said, "How's things with you?"
	"More to the point how's it with you?"
	It was Lance he had on the other end.
	"Okay, here's what happening," Jonathan told him.
	He went on to tell about the telephone call he had received from
Agnes, and that she wanted to show him some information that was in the
store room at Lance's father's home.
	"I don't know, Jon, something doesn't sound quite right," Lance
said, a worried tone creeping into his voice.
	"I'll be all right," Jonathan tried to assure him. However, he
wasn't all that sure himself about meeting the woman.
	"Did you find out anything more from Edith?"
	"It's been an interesting morning, and when I see you I'll have a
lot to share with you."
	"Are you coming home for lunch? We could talk over some food."
	"I don't think I should. Look, Lance, with Agnes calling me this
morning, well, I'm not so sure I should drop by."
	"What the hell are you saying?"
	"Relax, I'm not disappearing out of sight," Jonathan assured
him. "I'm just saying that since I'm meeting Agnes in little over an hour
that I might should be careful. I wouldn't put it past her to have me
followed."
	"You will be home this evening, won't you?"
	"Babe no one, not even that old bitch is going to keep me out of
your arms, okay?"
	"Jon?"
	Jonathan forced himself to breathe. "Yeah?" he said.
	"Please promise me you will be careful."
	"I promise."
	"Are you going to call Tony and tell him your plans?"
	"I think so."
	"Good. Call him now, will you?"
	"I will, Lance. And I'll give you another call just before I head
over to your father's house, okay?"
	"I love you, Jon."
	"I love you, too, Babe. Bye."
	Jonathan sat in his car for a moment or two holding the dead cell
phone. He knew that Lance was right, that he should probably have some sort
of back up if he planned on going down into the basement and inside Sam
Thompson's store room. Just how much help could Tony be without getting
himself strung up? He wondered. And Lance was definitely out of the
picture. He could be of no help at all.
	Finally Jonathan punched a number in once more on the keypad of his
cell phone.
	"Tony, can you talk?"
	"What's going on?" Tony asked.
	Jonathan told him about the telephone call he had received from
Agnes.
	"You're going there to meet her?"
	"I don't think I have a choice," Jonathan pointed out. "If I refuse
to meet her, she will definitely know something is going on."
	Tony had to agree with him, that he was right. "You will have to
meet her, I suppose."
	"Tony, you still have keys to the store room? You didn't give me
your only set, did you?"
	"I have a set."
	"Can you give me about an hour alone and then come up with a reason
to drop by?"
	"I'll think of something," Tony said with determination in his
voice. "Hell, I don't need a reason to be there. I'm an employee same as
Agnes."
	"Tony, trust me, your status with Sam is nowhere near the same as
Agnes."
	"What the fuck are you talking about, Terry?"
	"I can't go into details here. This evening we need to meet
again. I have enough information now that if we can just prove it, I think
you will definitely have a new boss. It's just going to take some doing to
prove what we know." Jonathan looked at his watch. "I'll see you at three
o'clock, Tony. Good bye."
	"You be careful," were the last words Jonathan heard before he
ended his conversation.
	Jonathan sat there in his car for a good five minutes before
restarting the car's engine. He still had an hour before his meeting with
Agnes. He wished like hell he could run by the house and see Lance, but he
knew better. He would continue driving for the next hour, trying to calm
himself before heading for Samuel Thompson's home.
	By the time Jonathan finally headed his car in the direction of the
Thompson home, he had put a good twenty miles on his car as he slowly drove
up and down various streets in town. As he drove, he tried to come up with
some sort of plan, but given the fact he had absolutely no idea at all what
Agnes Doughty had up her sleeve, he was at a total loss how he should
prepare for what might be waiting for him.
	As the hands on his watch stopped at two o'clock, Jonathan pulled
into the Thompson drive. Killing the car's engine, he reached for his cell
phone and called Lance.
	"I'm parked in your dad's drive," he told Lance. "I've talked with
Tony. He's meeting me here in an hour. I'll see you soon, Babe. Love you,"
he added.
	Jonathan ended his phone call and reached for his briefcase. As he
walked toward the house, he couldn't help but wonder what was waiting for
him inside, down in the store room. Guess there was only one way to find
out, he thought as he reached out to ring the door bell.

End Part 15