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