Gin Jones - Helen Binney 01 - A Dose of Death (4 page)

Helen closed the door and returned to her desk. She ignored Melissa
‘s activities in the kitchen area, and tried to concentrate on the computer screen again. Maybe if Helen ignored her, she’d give up and go away.

“
Nice pictures,” Melissa said, pointing at the thumbnails on the monitor. “Your nieces are very pretty.”

They were pretty, but that hadn
‘t been what Helen wanted from the pictures. She’d wanted to capture the girls’ personalities, not just their superficial appearance.

“
We need to talk,” Melissa said. “It took you a long time to answer the door just now. Are you all right?”

“
I’m fine,” Helen said, keeping her focus on the screen. “I took my time, because I was hoping you’d leave if I didn’t answer you.”

“
You know I’d never leave you,” Melissa said. “That’s not the problem. No, I think you had trouble opening the door. I think you need someone here for you all the time, not just during my brief visits.”

Helen shook her head. Twenty years of dealing with her husband
‘s cronies had given her the ability to keep her voice calm, even when all she wanted to do was scream. The woman who was only doing her job, after all, not trying to make Helen angry. “That’s not necessary.”

“
I’ll make the arrangements with your nieces.” Melissa retrieved the radio from under the kitchen sink, and carried it over to the desk. She plugged it in and tuned it to her usual talk station.

Helen turned it off.
“I need silence.”

“
You need life.” Melissa turned the radio back on.

Helen reached down to unplug it, her hip aching with the movement. She wrapped the cord around the radio and tossed it into a desk drawer. She braced her knee against it, daring Melissa to risk causing her patient physical harm to get at it.

“I just thought you’d enjoy a little entertainment,” Melissa said defensively, sitting next to her at the desk again.

“
I know what I want,” Helen said, maintaining eye contact again in the somewhat futile hope that Melissa could see what she refused to hear. “Right now, I don’t want the radio on. I want to work on my photographs. In silence. I’m not a child, and I’m not senile, and I do not need a guardian or a friend or anything else. You can either go somewhere else in the house and leave me alone, or you can just leave completely.”

“
I’m only doing my job.” Melissa’s voice was whiney, but there was anger in her eyes.

“
Not any longer,” Helen said. “You’re fired.”

“
You can’t fire me,” Melissa said, no longer pretending to care about her patient. “Only the person who hired me can, and that was your niece.”

“
They hired your agency, not you personally,” Helen said. “I’ll call your boss and ask for someone else.”

“
You didn’t hire the agency, either,” Melissa said smugly. “My boss won’t do anything unless your nieces call him. And by then I’m sure you’ll have realized that I’m only doing what’s best for you.”

“
I can call the police and have you arrested for trespassing.”

“
You can try, sweetie,” Melissa said, and the anger was gone from her face, replaced by the confidence that she was in control. “But the local cops all know me. Every single one of them has had a relative or two in my care. They know that sometimes patients resist their treatment. They won’t get involved in a patient-caretaker dispute. Not without a court order.”

Helen reached for the cell phone on the desktop, but Melissa was faster. The phone disappeared into the pocket of her unicorn-and-rainbow-printed smock.
“Today isn’t a good day for a car ride. Not the right weather at all.”

Helen glanced at the sunshine streaming in the window.
“What are you talking about? It’s a lovely day.”

“It’s a bit chilly for someone in your condition,” Melissa said. “Although, I would like to see you get more exercise. You know, the local hospital offers Tai Chi classes.”

“
Sounds good,” Helen said. “It’s got roots in the martial arts, doesn’t it?”

“
Don’t worry, sweetie. They wouldn’t expect you to fight anyone.”

“
That’s too bad.”

“
I tell you what,” Melissa said. “You can go outside, just a brief walk around the yard, right after your nap, sugar.”

Helen was too stunned to move.
Sure, her lupus caused a great deal of fatigue, but it was her choice, not someone else’s, when she was tired enough to go to bed. The woman was insane, thinking she could keep Helen a captive in her own cottage. Although, she thought ruefully, it wouldn’t be all that difficult to do. If Helen could have leaped out of her chair and run out of the house, she would have done it by now. With the inflammation in her joints particularly bothersome today, she couldn’t outrun Melissa, and wrestling her for the phone was equally out of the question.

That didn
‘t mean Helen had to give up. She just needed to make Melissa think she’d won, long enough to escape.

Helen got to her feet, hiding her rage and pretending to be cowed.
“You may be right. I’ll just go lie down for a while.”

Helen was halfway across the living room, when Melissa said.
“I almost forgot about your other cell phone. The one in your bedroom.”

“
It won’t bother me while I’m resting,” Helen said. “I’ll turn off the ringer.”

“
I think it would be better if I held it for you,” Melissa said.

“
I don’t.” The phone was much more of a lifeline than the nurse was; it wouldn’t drown her pills or knock her over. Helen glanced at the bedroom, considered making a run for it, or at least a fast hobble, but she was too far away. She’d never get all the way there, with the door slammed shut behind her before Melissa tackled her. Realistically speaking, she wouldn’t even get halfway. At least the weakness of her body hadn’t spread to her brain. She would bide her time, letting Melissa think she’d won again, until Helen had a real chance to escape.

With Melissa right behind her, Helen retrieved the back-up cell phone from her nightstand and handed it over.

Melissa pocketed it. “That’s a good girl.”

Now she was treating Helen like a dog, and that was exactly how Helen felt. Like a whipped dog, in fact. In her own home.

Melissa was going to regret ever taking on this assignment. Maybe even regret ever having become a visiting nurse. Helen would make sure of it. Just as soon as her “nap” was over.

Melissa left, pulling the door behind her, but leaving it slightly ajar.
“I’ll be right outside here if you need me.”

Not in this lifetime.

Helen sat on her bed. She wasn
‘t tired, and she didn’t need a nap, and no one was going to make her take one.

Helen shook her head ruefully. She was thinking like the child Melissa thought she was.

But Helen wasn’t a child. She had resources that a child didn’t have.

She pushed up off the bed and crossed the room to slam the door shut and lock it. The cottage was older than it looked, with sturdy doors and locks. Melissa couldn
‘t break in without a battering ram.

Of course, now Helen was effectively locked into her own bedroom, as unable to leave as Melissa was to enter. Once Helen got out of here, she was getting a spare phone, maybe two, to hide for emergencies like this. The basic one in her pocket at all times, another under her pillow, and perhaps one in the bathroom, hidden within the stack of
towels in the linen closet. First, though, she needed to get out of here.

Melissa was between Helen and the two exterior doors of the cottage. That left the windows. Helen peered out the nearest one. Even though the bedroom was on the first floor, there was a substantial drop to the ground. Probably six feet. Not a lot, for someone who was physically fit. A few years ago, Helen wouldn
‘t have hesitated before jumping that short distance, although, to be honest, she’d never been tempted to sneak out of her bedroom before. No one had ever dared to treat her like a child before.

Helen unlocked the window and gave the sash a tug.

“Are you all right?” Melissa said from just outside the door. “I thought I heard a noise.”

“
I’m fine,” Helen said. “I just dropped a book.”

“
Put down the book and go to sleep,” Melissa said.

Now wasn
‘t the time to argue. She needed Melissa to think she’d won. “Whatever you say.”

Helen sat on the bed and bounced a little to make it squeak, as if she really were lying down to nap.

Melissa’s footsteps headed back to the kitchen, followed by the sound of the refrigerator opening and a soda can opening. A moment later, one of Melissa’s stupid talk shows blared from the radio. For once, Helen was grateful for the noise. It was more than enough to cover the small sounds of her escape.

Helen
stood up carefully and retrieved a spare walking cane from her closet. She opened the window as quietly as possible and removed the screen before tossing her cane outside. She waited a moment to make sure Melissa hadn’t heard the sounds and then placed several books against the wall beneath the window to serve as steps. She climbed up them and managed to get herself seated on the window sill with her feet dangling outside. After several minutes of trying to make herself push off the safety of her perch, she finally turned over onto her stomach and, after taking a deep breath, slid down the side of the house and then to the ground.

Despite the shortness of the drop, the impact jarred her hip, and the sudden pain left her unable to move. The bit of her brain that wasn
‘t focused on breathing through the worst of the muscle spasms was praying that Melissa hadn’t heard her fall. Not only would it be embarrassing and frustrating, but if Helen was found like this, unable to breathe easily, let alone stand up, it would be persuasive evidence to convince her nieces that she couldn’t be trusted to live on her own.

Eventually, though, the pain subsided and Helen was able to use her cane to maneuver herself back onto her feet. She made her way to the nearest neighbor
‘s house, one slow, painful step at a time. Her anger at Melissa kept her going whenever she felt like giving up.

Helen knocked on the door of the nearest house, but no one was home. Helen worried that she might have to walk miles before she found someone at home, but at the second house, there was a stay-at-home mother. She was reluctant to open the door to a stranger, and insisted that Helen remain outside, but she did agree to let Helen use her phone to call Jack.

She sat on the neighbor’s front porch until she saw the black luxury car approaching the driveway. She pushed herself to her feet, just in time for Jack to emerge from the Town Car and open the passenger door for her.

“
What are you doing here?” he said. “You don’t look so good.”

“
I need to go see that lawyer Tate again.”

“
You’ve got a scratch on your face,” he said. “Did your nurse do that?”

“
Not directly,” Helen said as she settled into the car’s plush seat. “Do you keep drinks in the car for passengers?”

“
What did you have in mind?”

Helen couldn
‘t actually drink anything alcoholic, because of the drugs she was taking, but she needed something bracing. “Anything except Diet Pepsi.”

“
There’s orange juice in a cooler in the trunk.”

“
That’ll have to do.”

Jack went around to the back of the car. Helen heard the trunk open, and a moment later Jack handed her a large plastic bottle of orange juice, which he
‘d opened for her.

“
Thanks.”

“
Anything for you, Ms. Binney.”

“
As long as I’ve paid up the two-hour minimum, anyway.”

“
You wouldn’t stiff me,” Jack said. “Not like some people. Just last week, I drove these sales reps to an event with their clients in a limo, and I made sure the mini-bar was stocked and the limo was immaculate, and I got them to their sports event on time, despite all sorts of construction detours and traffic back-ups, and you know what they did? They contested the bill through their credit card company. I knew they were jerks when they only left me about a one percent tip. How rude is that? One percent. Of course, I’m never going to see even that much, since it was part of the credit card charge that they contested. I mean, they musta’ spent thousands on the tickets for the game, but they couldn’t spare chump change for a poor working stiff.”

Helen had known too many people like the passengers Jack had encountered. In fact, her ex-husband was like that, except when she
‘d intervened. He’d spent fortunes on sporting events and restaurants and transportation, but when it came to recognizing the people who’d made those things enjoyable, he couldn’t be bothered. He wasn’t a bad person, not really. In theory, he cared about people, and that was why he’d become a politician, but on a day-to-day level, he’d been oblivious to the people he was hurting. “There are a lot of jerks in this world.”