The Wager (9 page)

F
rank Simpson noticed that Virginia Kelly was having great difficulty restraining her emotions as he and the woman he had let into his life gradually moved into more and more advanced sex techniques. They had started to try out some of the things they were watching on his erotic videos. But as they got more and more adventurous Virgie began to express growing doubts about their intimate activities. Frank had managed to get her to watch one of his videos that had a respected clergyman telling his audience that sex practices past the missionary position were permissible provided that the couple were married. Then he had impulsively proposed to Virginia. To his surprise, after a few intimate kisses, she had agreed.

"We'll have to keep this a secret for a while," Frank nodded as Virginia told him about the need to introduce the matter gradually to her son and daughter.

"My children aren't going to be too thrilled, either," Frank acknowledged.

"We'll have to have a pre-nuptial agreement drawn up. That should make them more receptive to the idea if their inheritance is not threatened."

Frank agreed and told Virginia he would have his lawyer draft such an agreement for both of them.

"We'll marry in the Spring," Virginia promised. "That

way we have time to gradually let the kids know something's going on."

"Read this," Frank remembered demanding, after he had handed Virgie a copy of 'The Joy of Sex.'

"For the future, of course."

The next time they met for lunch it was Virgie that started the sex games under the table in the restaurant. By the time Frank drove Virgie home he was fully sexually aroused.

"We're getting married anyway," Virgie blurted as they sat beside the sex toys they had purchased at an erotic video store. "God shouldn't mind."

"God won't mind!" Frank told her with considerable certainty in his voice. "Let's try my house this time."

As the Boston Bull Dog, Lazarus, greeted them warmly at the door, Virgie gave him a slight pat and a large dog biscuit. She closed the front door, pulled Frank against her and dragged him into her bedroom.

An overjoyed Frank used several of the new tools to heighten both him and Virgie's enjoyment of the sex act. She responded passionately.

"We should buy some more videos," Virgie stated at the end of their session. "The ones that have bondage procedures in them.

"Indeed!" Frank agreed.

"After all we do want to be prepared for marriage."

"Absolutely," Frank agreed. "Pick you up at six o'clock."

L
inda had been visiting Malcolm every day at the hospital despite her vacillating feelings about him. She was still finding the man attractive despite the large gap in their ages and the existence of a much younger girlfriend. The door of his room was closed when she got there. She knocked timidly on it.

"Come in," Malcolm's voice instructed her as he opened the door himself. He was wearing a robe and he was using crutches.

"You're walking," Linda's voice betrayed her happiness at Malcolm's quick recuperation.

"Right," he replied. "I think I'm going to be sent home sometime this week."

"Give the Dog Park a break for a while! Let me know when you're going to be released and I'll get Trump back from Turk O'Brien for you."

"I'm eager to get back to the office. Heaven knows what that nephew of mine has done in my absence."

Malcolm's words reminded Linda of her unsettling lunch and date with Lorne Brooks. She decided to take a chance on confiding her suspicions about his nephew.

"Malcolm, forgive me for interfering in your business life, but I think that nephew of yours has his eye on your position."

"That will be the day," Malcolm replied. "That man is a horse's ass. If he wasn't my brother's son I would never have moved him up as high as I have."

"He was asking me if I noticed any deterioration in your memory, judgement or cognitive awareness?"

"The bastard!"

Linda realised that Malcolm was becoming very upset.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned it but if I were you I'd have a battery of psychological tests done. Just to prove your mind is in as good a state as your body."

Malcolm looked at her in surprise. He seemed to calm down.

"That's a very good suggestion, my dear!"

Linda gave him a warm pat on his hand.

Malcolm sat down on the bed and started to return her grasp with his own but stopped as Turk O'Brien suddenly charged into the room

"Good you're here too," he said to a startled Linda. "I'm going to need both of you."

"Whatever for?"

"It's Bea Broughton," Linda felt the desperation and concern in the Paul Newman lookalike's voice, "she's locked up in an Extended Care Home against her wishes.

"Good Lord," Linda immediately emphasized with the plight of her acquaintance in the Dog Walking Club.

"By whom?"

"Apparently her son John and his wife. There's a 'For Sale' sign on her house."

"How do you know where she is? We've all been wondering where Bea has been for weeks."

"I got a call on my cell phone. Last night. Bea left a message on my voice mail telling me where she was and asked me to get her out."

"You'll need a lawyer," Malcolm advised.

"Won't do no good," Turk assured him. "Son's got a signed Power of Attorney. Told her to revoke it but I guess there wasn't time."

"What about Angus, her dog?" Linda worried about the canine. She knew how attached Bea was to him.

"He's with Dogzilla and Trump," Turk explained. "Poor dog. I'm just managing to get him to eat something. Have to hand feed him."

"How did he get there?"

"Kidnapped him." Turk stated.

Malcolm listened with growing alarm as Turk told him and Linda that he needed to kidnap Bea, too, out of the Care Home. That he had an appointment for a tour of the place that afternoon and that he would make sure he located what Bea had called the "Agitation Room" and get her out of there.

"That's against the law, Turk," Malcolm tried to reason with the distraught man. "You've got to do something through legal channels."

"She could be dead by then," Turk argued. "You don't know how some of these facilities handle patients."

"Turk, kidnapping in this state is a felony. Particularly if you try and take her across the state line. You could spend the rest of your life in prison."

"No matter!" Turk shot back. Malcolm and Linda realised that the big man was beyond reason.

"How can we help?"

"Need you and Malcolm to come with me. Have to have help casing this place."

"I'll come with you, Turk," Linda made up her mind. "Malcolm's just managed to get up on crutches."

Malcolm felt horrified. He suddenly realised that he did not want anything happening to Linda.

"I'll do it," he said in a tone that inferred that both Turk and Linda were out of their minds. "I'm the one that owes Turk, Linda. Remember?"

"Good. Keep that hospital garb on," Turk instructed. "Maybe we can pass you off as my elderly, demented father."

"My God!" Malcolm felt like he was losing his mind but he obediently lifted himself off the bed and placed the crutches under his arms.

"We'll have to go down the back staircase, the hospital won't release me yet, I know."

"Your health insurance won't cover you if you do that," Linda warned. "And what about your nephew if anything goes wrong."

"To Hell with his health insurance," Turk motioned both of them to follow him out the door.

"You stay here," Malcolm told Linda. "I'll deal with Lorne if the situation necessitates it. I'm coming with you Turk."

All three of them started for the door. Linda watched apprehensively as Turk grabbed one of the wheelchairs from the hallway and motioned for Malcolm to sit in it. When they reached the side staircase without interference Turk picked Malcolm and the wheelchair up in his strong arms and carried both of them down the stairs despite Malcolm's protests.

"Taking him for lunch," Turk informed the nurse who stared at them in disbelief near the bottom of the stairs.

"The cafeteria is at the rear."

Turk pointed Malcolm's wheelchair in the direction of the cafeteria but once he was out of sight of the nurse he moved through a side door.

At the parking lot Linda got into the back seat of Turk's

car with Dogzilla, Trump and Angus. The little Pomeranian greeted her like an old friend. Trump barked joyously at Malcolm and attempted to jump into the front seat as Malcolm sat down in the passenger side but Turk's rough command to "freeze" had the large sheep dog drop motionless onto the back seat.

"What did you do to him?" Malcolm demanded.

"Taught him some manners."

Malcolm looked at his dog. The big Sheep Dog stared back at him with pleading in his eyes. Malcolm reached into the back seat to pat Trump but the dog leaped up again and attempted to climb into the front seat.

Turk issued a curse and ordered Trump to freeze . Again the dog slumped onto the seat and sat immobile.

"You should rent yourself out as a dog trainer," Linda commented.

"Radio collar, works real well."

"I was going to get one of those. Thanks, Turk."

"What are we going to do when we get to the Care Home?"

Turk told them the plan he had quickly put together when he discovered Linda in the room as well as Malcolm. He told them that Malcolm would have to pretend that he was his father, that he was in the final stages of Alzheimers, and needed an immediate placement in the care facility. He said that way they could tour the place and might find out where Bea was located.

"What about me?" Linda queried.

"You're my sister."

Malcolm and Linda exchanged glances.

"I'm not old enough to be your father."

Turk handed him his cap with 'Molson Indie' blazoned in red on the front.

"Put this on. They'll think your hair is completely grey like it is on your sides. Make sure your voice sounds ancient."

Malcolm realised his hair dye was receding.

"Linda doesn't look anything like you."

Turk handed her his sunglasses.

"Wear these."

Linda started as she looked at the glasses. They had a naked lady ingrained on the side pieces. She swallowed and put them on anyway.

"They're too big!"

Turk reached for them and twisted the ear holds to make them smaller. Linda tried them on again. They stayed in place.

At the care home Turk found a parking space in the shade for the dogs. As he and Linda wheeled Malcolm into the lobby, Turk gave the fake name he had used for the appointment to the receptionist. Within minutes a tall man in a business suit introduced himself to Turk.

"Mr. Thomas, welcome, I'm Dr. Jim, the Director of this Facility. I'll show you personally around."

Turk stared at the man and managed to force himself to shake his proffered hand. He fought off his urge to grab him by the throat and demand to know where Bea was.

"This is my father, Louis, and my sister Linda."

The Director turned to Malcolm and put out his hand.

"Welcome Mr. Thomas."

"This ain't the chicken place," Malcolm ignored the offered handshake and did an excellent imitation of an angry Alzheimer victim well into deterioration. His voice even sounded really old. Linda stared at him in appreciation.

"I'm afraid my father's perception is distorted," she explained. "We had to tell him we were taking him out for chicken to get him into the car."

"Not to worry, we're used to our patients getting agitated. We even have a special room to calm them down."

"Where is it?" Turk demanded. He realized the Director was referring to the "Agitation Room" that Bea had mentioned.

"Oh, we'll get to it during the tour. First I want to show you our Down Memory Lane activity rooms. We've got both a 'Marriage Memory Room' for the ladies and a 'Your Woodwork Memory Room' for the men."

Turk and Linda looked at each other and followed the Director down the hall as he pushed Malcolm forward. It was obvious that the Director did not suspect a thing. They passed through several corridors with private rooms on each side and came to a room with a woodworking sign on its door. The Director pushed Malcolm through as Linda opened the door for him. Inside the room everyone stared at the array of woodworking tools on the table and shelves lining the room.

Turk O'Brien picked up one of the saws and a piece of wood. He tried the saw out on the wood but it did not cut very well.

"Oh, these aren't real tools, Mr. O'Brien, just replicas. We just want to stir our Alzheimer's patients memories not have them do any real woodwork."

"This ain't the chicken place!" Malcolm complained again.

The Director quickly wheeled Malcolm out the door and down the hall. They came to a stop at a door labelled "Marriage Memories." Linda followed the Director into an all white room. It was filled with wedding memorabilia. A life-size mannequin of a bride and groom were in one corner. Another corner held a table gaily decorated for a wedding complete with a hanging banner, balloons and tiny treat baskets for the guests. Other

wedding items were display along the shelves and on the furniture in the room.

"You would be amazed how this room stimulates the memories of our ladies."

Malcolm and Linda looked at each other with raised eyebrows.

"This ain't the chicken place. I ain't getting married again. You're not leaving me here in Las Vegas!" Malcolm shouted in his deranged, elderly voice.

"I'm afraid my father is quite demented," Linda apologised.

"No problem. I'll show you the 'Agitation Room.' That's where we handle patients like your father when they become difficult."

The Director wheeled Malcolm out through the door and over to an elevator. Linda and Turk followed them onto the elevator as the door opened. The Director stepped out into a basement area. Down the hall one of the rooms was labelled "Agitation Room."

The room was blinding in its whiteness. The walls, the bedding, the furniture and the decorations were all white. Even the paintings on the wall were black and white drawings. Turk spotted the white phone on one of the white end tables. A slow fury was growing in his brain.

"That must have been the phone Bea used," he thought.

"Get me out of this place!" Malcolm yelled. "There's too much white. Are we in Heaven? Where is St. Peter?"

Soothing music was playing in the background and white fish were circling around a white-edged, goldfish bowl.

"An agitated patient stays here until they calm down," the Director explained.

"Could we see what the patients' rooms look like?" Turk demanded.

"Next on our tour."

He wheeled Malcolm out the door. They went back up the elevator and got off on the second floor. Turk noted that the facility had six floors.

"We assign patients according to the amount of deterioration they are exhibiting. Floor six has the most deteriorated men and women. Floor one holds the patients with the least problems."

"And the other floors?" Linda inquired.

"In-between and new arrivals," the Director explained. "Until they adjust and we get a good idea about their strengths and weaknesses."

Turk realized he had just been told where Bea was being kept. He tried to think of a plausible excuse to visit Floors two to five.

The Director pushed Malcolm through one of the doors on Floor two and Turk and Linda followed. No one was in the room and Turk had a good look around. A comfortable bed was provided as well as a dresser. Turk had a good look out the window. He noted that the dormitories were not far from the parking lot.

"You're welcome to bring a few pieces of your father's favourite furniture," the Director's voice signalled the end of the tour.

"You're not leaving me in Heaven!" Malcolm yelled.

"We'll get you some chicken, Father," Linda assured him in a soothing voice.

"Thanks so much," Linda shook the Director's hand. "We'll be back sometime next week to make the arrangements. How soon could my father enter?"

"Within the month after you've signed the papers and we get a copy of your father's medical records." The Director

sighed as the sound of hammering reached through the walls of his office.

"As you can hear, we're just in the midst of adding an addition onto the upper floors. It should be finished anytime. I've got the construction crew working through the night along with the laundry and night staff to get the addition completed as fast as possible. We will have room for your father within a month."

Turks' ears perked up. He listened to the construction sounds. He had noticed laundry workers moving about the ward picking up towels and bedding.