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