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 13
Jonathan reached the court house in record time. He parked outside the huge impressive looking building and quickly made his way inside. There was a young woman sitting at a desk with a plate reading "Information" to the side. She smiled at him as he stopped in front of her desk.
"May I help you?" she asked.
"I hope so."
Saying that, Jonathan went on to explain that he worked for an audit company and needed some information concerning a local establishment.
She motioned toward an elevator and said, "We have a room on the second floor with computers where you may access any public information you need." She gave him directions on finding the room.
Smiling, he thanked her and made his way over to the elevator. He pushed the button and waited for the door to open.
The elevator stopped on the next floor just seconds later, and Jonathan made his way down the hall. He followed her directions and found the room he was looking for without any problem at all.
The room was empty, and he sat down at a computer He wondered just where to start. With the Smyth family or the Thompson, he wasn't' sure just which.
He finally pulled up "Smyth Oil Company" records. He soon discovered that Ronald Smyth had founded the company fifty some years earlier. When he passed away, he had left the company to Lance's very young mother, Kathleen Smyth. She was only twenty years old when he died.
Jonathan went on to read that Kathleen and her husband, Sam Thompson were joint owners in the company until her death two years ago. At that time the records showed that her part went to her son, Lance Thompson.
Nothing else mentioned in the window seemed to hold any importance to Jonathan, just what he already knew that Lance and his father were joint owners in the company since the death of Kathleen Smyth Thompson.
Jonathan jotted down some notes he thought might prove to be important and then exited out of his window. He opened up a new search engine and typed in "Birth records." He found Ronald Smyth right away.
Ronald Smyth DOB March 11, 1935 DOD November 8th, 1975
Jonathan jotted the dates down on his paper. Next he typed in Kathleen Smyth Thompson. He discovered:
Kathleen Smyth Thompson DOB April 3oth, 1955 DOD October 16th, 2009
Lance's mother had died two years ago at the age of fifty-four. As Jonathan wrote the information down he was surprised to discover she had been that young when she had passed away.
Next Jonathan typed in Sam Thompson's name.
Samuel Thompson DOB August 2nd, 1950
Evidently Lance's father had been five years older than his mother.
Next Jonathan typed in Lance's name.
Lance Thompson DOB October 8th, 1975
Lance was thirty-five, a fact that Jonathan definitely knew. There was no other data concerning him, and Jonathan closed the window. As he sat there running over in his mind what he had learned, he couldn't quite fit all of the pieces together.
As he thought about Lance's grandfather, Ronald Smyth, he was curious. The man had only been forty years old when he died. Not much older than Lance was now. Kathleen, Lance's mother, had also been young when she had died, although not as young as her own father had been.
Jonathan reached for his cell phone and punched a button on the key pad.
"Hey, how you doing?" he greeted.
Lance was on the other end. "I'm great," he assured Jonathan. "Question is, how are you doing?"
"I do have a question for you, Lance."
"What's on your mind?"
"Your grandfather, the founder of the company, he was really young when he died, wasn't he?"
"He was," Lance agreed. "In fact, he died not too long before I was born. About a year, I think."
"What happened to him?"
"Hunting accident," Lance answered. "He and my dad were gone one weekend hunting. They were in a deer blind along with another guy. For some reason the blind fell and crashed to the ground. Both my grandfather and the other guy were killed. Somehow my father survived the fall. I guess he was too mean to die," he ended.
"Who was the other guy?"
"I'm not certain. I think he was an employee of the company. I never heard much about him."
"Your Mom, although not as young as your grandfather, was also not very old when she also died," Jonathan pointed out.
"My mother was involved in an automobile accident," Lance said quietly. "Supposedly she had been drinking and decided to go for a drive."
"Supposedly?" Jonathan asked.
"Yes. She made it to the hospital but died early the next morning."
"I am so sorry, Lance. I had no idea any of this had happened"
"It was a long time ago," Lance said. "Besides, this has nothing to do with what is going on with my father now," he added.
Jonathan wasn't sure he completely agreed with Lance; however he didn't voice any of his thoughts. For the time being he would keep silent and try and work though the facts as he knew them.
"When are you coming home, Jon?" Lance asked.
"I should wrap things up in an hour or so," he answered.
"Good, I'm anxious to see you."
"Miss me, do you?"
"Hell, yes I miss you. I want you to get your ass home soon as possible."
"I'm sure I know what you want to do with it when I do get home," he pointed out and laughed.
"Fuck, yeah."
"Then I'd better get off here and get busy. See you soon."
Jonathan ended his call with Lance and returned to the computer in front of him. He closed all of the open windows down and typed in "Wedding Statistics" He watched as a home page appeared before his eyes. When it had finished loading, he typed in "Samuel Thompson" and waited.
In a relatively short time the computer loaded the page he was looking for. He leaned over and carefully read what was before him.
Samuel T. Thompson Wed: Kathleen Smyth February 14th, 1976
When Jonathan read the words, he thought, "Wow, Ole Sam actually married his wife on THE day. They were married on Valentine's Day." Jonathan thought perhaps the old man had a heart after all.
Jonathan wrote this new information down in his note pad. He decided to make a time line with all of the dates and information he had found. He closed the window on the computer and went to work with the facts he had so far learned. When he had finished writing he reread what he had put down on paper.
As he sat there studying his notes, something kept tapping at his brain. What was it, he wondered? He read everything he had written once more, slowly taking in each word and processing it in his brain.
A moment later something caught his eye, attacked his brain. He reread that part of the time line and slowly the message began to sink in.
Lance Thompson Born: October 8, 1976
Samuel T. Thompson Wed: Kathleen Smyth February 14, 1976
Jonathan's thoughts landed in the middle of Lance. His patient and lover had been born October 8th. His parents had been married in February of the same year. Now being a nurse, and even though it was not his field of expertise, Jonathan did realize that every once in a while an eight month baby was born, and with the knowledge of today, these babies usually had no trouble surviving being born a month early. However, just what were the chances back in 1976 when Lance had been born he wondered?
Jonathan reached for his telephone and once more punched in a number. He had a friend who worked at the same hospital he did. She was the head nurse in the OB Department.
When he had her on the line, he said, "Hey, Janet, what's up?"
"Jonathan?"
He could hear the surprise sound in her voice.
"Are you still around?" she asked.
"Yep, you haven't got rid of me yet," he grinned. He went on, saying, "Janet, I have a question for you. I'm doing a bit of research on premature babies."
"Okay," she said.
Jonathan could tell she was wondering just where this conversation was heading.
"If a baby is born at eight months this day and age, isn't the chance of survival still pretty good?"
"Yes, today an eight month baby stands a very good chance of surviving. In fact, almost to the tune of one hundred percent," she added. "Why do you ask?"
"What about the same baby born the same length of time, say back in 1976? What would have been his chances for survival?"
His nurse friend was silent for a moment. Finally she said, "Jonathan, I couldn't really say. Back then, same as today, it would just depend on the circumstances surrounding the baby and the mother, especially the baby," she finished.
"But an eight month baby could survive?"
"Of course," she answered. "Many did, and some didn't. Today, if there is time and early delivery is a possibility, they give the mother a shot of steroid, which will help the baby's lungs to develop at a faster pace than normal. Before they did that, the lack of development in the lungs was a great factor as to whether the baby survived or not."
"But the bottom line, Janet: even in '76 it was possible for them to survive, am I correct?"
"Of course," she answered.,
"Thanks, my friend. It was great talking with you."
"When are you coming back to work?"
"Not sure yet," he told her. "The patient I'm caring for is not quite on the mend yet. It will all depend on him and when he's ready. Doctor Todd has arranged for me to be gone as long as necessary."
"Lucky you."
"It is a bit different," Jonathan agreed.
"When you get back I want to hear all about it."
Jonathan promised and ended his conversation. He wrote some more notes on his pad and then closed everything up. Securing his brief case, he left the room. As he walked toward the elevator, he looked at his wrist watch. It was three-thirty. He decided he would have time for one more stop before returning home to Lance.
Back on the street, he walked to his car. He pulled into the street and headed for the home of Edith Baxter. It had been her that led him to the court house, and he felt she could answer a few more questions for him. At least he hoped she could...and that she would.
A short time later Jonathan was standing once again on the door step belonging to Miss Baxter. As last time, he gave the old fashion bell a twist and stood back.
The old wooden door creaked as it slowly made its way back away from Jonathan. It suddenly stopped moving.
"Yes?"
"Miss Baxter, it me, again, Terry Watkins. May I ask you a few more questions?"
The door gave an even louder creak and opened the rest of the way.
"Yes, Mr. Watkins?"
"May I please step inside?" Jonathan gave her the best grin he had, hoping that would gain him entrance once again.
"I did tell you to come back if you needed to, did I not?"
He nodded. "Yes, you did, Miss Baxter."
She stepped back. "Then, please, won't you come inside?"
As Jonathan followed her into the old fashioned living room once again, he heard her ask,
"So, did you go to the court house?"
He took a seat on the sofa. "Yes, I did."
"Did you find anything worthwhile?"
"I'm not sure. Oh, I found some historical dates. You know, such as births, deaths, even weddings."
Edith Baxter was quiet for a moment. Finally she spoke and asked, "Why are you here, young man? I mean, after all, if you found out the information you needed, why come back to see me?"
Jonathan was silent for a moment, as he tried to decide where to start with his questions. Finally he said, "Can you tell me anything about Carter Wilson?"
A guarded look came over her face. "Why do you ask?"
"Because when I was searching through records, I found that this Carter Wilson died the same day as Ronald Smyth did."
"What do you want to know?"
"Like I mentioned, how does he fit into the picture?"
Edith Baxter's face took on that of being far away, in a different time, different place.
"Miss Baxter?" Jonathan tried to prompt her when she remained silent.
"Carter Wilson was an employee of the oil company," she finally answered.
"I see. How was it, then, that he and Mr. Smyth died on the same date?"
Edith Baxter looked rather sharply at Jonathan. "Tell me, Mr. Watkins, just how does all of this pertain to an audit your company is supposedly performing on Smyth Oil?"
"As I told you on my first visit, I am not at liberty to say, Miss Baxter. I'm sorry, but I cannot answer your questions."
"Then why should I answer your questions, may I ask?"
Jonathan looked closely at the old woman sitting across from him. "Miss Baxter, do you think much of Lance Thompson?"
"Why would you ask such a thing, young man!" she exclaimed. "Of course I do. I always have, ever since he was a young tyke."
Jonathan smiled. "I'm glad to hear that. I'm sure Mr. Thompson would like to know what you think about him."
At first a big smile appeared on Edith Baxter's face. Then it was replaced by a more somber look. "Look, Mr. Watkins that is all in the past. Nothing is as it was, and it never will be again. It's just time to move on," she finished.
"Perhaps you are right. Perhaps that is why we should all work together. You think perhaps together, all of us might make a difference for Mr. Thompson? Mr. Lance Thompson, that is."
Once again, Edith Baxter studied Jonathan closely. "Why do I get the feeling you are interested in this much more than just from the stand point of an auditor?"
Jonathan caught his breath. He certainly didn't need for this sharp old woman sitting across the room from him to catch onto the truth. At least not at this time.
Jonathan took a deep breath. Weighing the words he spoke, he said, "Miss Baxter, anytime I feel there is something not right in any organization I've been involved with, I have always made it my priority to right any situation I could. That's just the way I am," he finished.
Suddenly she smiled. "Good, I'm glad you feel that way." She leaned forward in her seat. "Now, how may I help you?"
"Once again, who is Carter Wilson? How does he fit into this puzzle, other than sharing a death date with Ronald Smyth, who was evidently his employer?"
"There are two things I know about that young man. Well, perhaps three," she added. "He was well thought of by Mr. Smyth. In fact, he had the same job then as this Mr. Tony Miller has now. I gather that Mr. Miller is pretty much Samuel Thompson's assistant. Well, the same could be said for Carter Wilson. Back then he was Mr. Ronald Smyth's right hand man. Also, he was in love with Kathleen Smyth."
The words jarred Jonathan, pounding him full force in the face. "What did you say?"
"I said that Carter Wilson was in love with Kathleen Smyth. As she was with him," the old woman added.
Jonathan was thoughtful for a moment. Another question was making its way to the front of his brain.
"What about Sam Thompson, was he in the picture back then?"
"Oh, yes, very much so. He also worked for the company."
"What was his job?"
"He worked in the legal area."
"Is he a lawyer?"
She nodded. "That's right, although back then I would have hated to have him represent any company of mine, and I sure wouldn't want him doing so today."
"So, as a lawyer, Samuel Thompson found it more profitable working for another man's company rather that establishing his own law practice." The words came out in form of a statement rather than a question.
"Oh, yes," Edith assured him. "After all, didn't he end up with his own oil company? He did much better than he ever could have practicing law."
"Edith, was Lance Thompson a premature baby?"
The sharp look returned to her eyes, and she spoke the words, saying, "Did I give you permission to call me by my first name on this visit?"
"Sorry, Miss Baxter, my bad."
Her face softened up, and she gave him a smile. "I like you, Mr. Watkins. You are direct and up front. I like that in an individual. You may call me `Edith'. Now, what were you asking about Lance?"
"I asked you if he had been born prematurely," he reminded her.
"Have you met him? Lance Thompson, I mean?"
He answered her carefully, saying, "I have."
"Does he look like a person you would describe as having a premature look?"
"Of course not, but you and I both know that a baby born early usually grows up to be a nice strong adult, and as an adult shows no sign of being premature."
"Again, I ask you, does Lance Thompson look premature to you."
"No, he doesn't."
"Then I guess you answered your own question," she pointed out.
To him, Jonathan thought the two of them were traveling in circles. The damned air plane needed landing, and it looked to him as if it was his responsibility to land it. Aloud, he said, "Do you remember when Lance's mother and father were married?"
Edith was thoughtful. Finally she said, "I can't remember for certain, but I think it was in the winter time. I know it wasn't' too long after her father died."
"Do you remember if Kathleen and Sam dated long before they were married?
"I really can't say."
"What about Carter Wilson did he and Kathleen date?"
"Again, I really can't say."
"You don't know if they dated or not, yet you tell me they were in love with each other?"
"Are you sure you're an auditor? You sound like a lawyer to me."
Jonathan laughed, trying to make himself sound at ease. "I can assure you, I am not a lawyer."
"Well, what are you then?"
Again trying to remain calm, he said, "I can assure you, Edith, I do represent a company that is trying to see than things are done right by Lance Thompson. Of that, my dear lady, you have my word."
"Good, because as I've said before, Lance has had a really rough time, especially after his mother was gone. While she was alive she tried to be there for him, but it was not always possible. She was a good woman; I have little doubt about that."
"What about his father?"
"You mean Samuel Thompson?"
"He is the father of Lance Thompson, is he not?"
"He is."
"Then what about him? What sort of relationship did he have with his wife?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "Who knows what went on between the two of them?"
"Did they seem to get along well? As far as you could tell, I mean?"
"As I said, who really knew? When she was in the office there never seemed to be any trouble between them."
"What kind of relationship did Lance have with his father?
Once again the sharp look appeared in Edith Baxter's eyes. "Sam hated the boy. Always did, if you ask me. However, things became much worse between them. After Lance's mother was gone."
"Why was that, do you think?"
"Terry, are you aware of Lance's life style?"
Choosing his words carefully, Jonathan said, "I believe so, if you are referring to Mr. Thompson's being gay."
"I am."
"Then I am aware of it."
"Do not hold that against him," she warned. "I will not have you or anyone else thinking badly of him. He's a great boy."
Jonathan forced the smile from his lips. He wondered how Lance would feel if he heard himself being described as a "great boy"? Hell, what would she think if she knew Lance was the love of his life? He liked Edith Baxter, and he felt she cared deeply for Lance. It would be nice when this was all over with, and he could explain to her just how much Lance really did mean to him, and how much he really did have Lance's best interest at heart.
"Do you have any more questions, Terry? It's getting late."
Jonathan looked across the room at her. The way she seemed to care so for Lance, he wondered why the woman had never married and had her own family. To care for Lance the way she seemed to, she would have made a wonderful mother, he decided.
"Edith, I found out today that Lance's mother and father, Kathleen and Samuel, were married February 14, 1976."
"I knew it was in the winter time. I just couldn't remember when."
"I also discovered that Lance was born October 8, of the same year."
"Oh, I remember very well the time he was born. I also remember thinking how proud his grandfather would have been, and how sad it was that he had died the year before."
"It was sad," Jonathan agreed.
"You don't remember whether or not Lance was born early?"
"Why do you keep asking me that?"
Jonathan tried to keep his voice from sounding impatient. He said, "Lance's parents were married in February. He was born in October. You do the math, Edith."
Edith stood to her feet and walked to the door. Before she opened it, she said, "No, Mr. Watkins, you do the math." She opened the door. "Good day."
Confused, Jonathan stood to his feet. "I'm sorry if I said something to upset you, Edith. I assure you that was not my intention."
"As I say, Mr. Watkins, you do the math. Goodbye."
Jonathan walked slowly to his car. He wasn't sure what had just taken place inside the home of Edith Baxter, but whatever it was, it had confused the hell out of him.
He started his car, and backing out onto the street, he made his way to Lance. Lance, who was a big part of this puzzle, yet who was also the best thing that had ever landed in the middle of Jonathan Davis' life.
End of Part 13