Chapter 53: Master of the House?

January 25, 1992, Chicago, Illinois

“Well THAT is not what I wanted to hear,” I said, coming back into the sunroom.

“What?” Jessica asked.

“Dustin Brady died in an accident about four years ago.”

“Who?” Abbie asked.

“The photographer who took photos of the house after it was remodeled. And who Carla worked for.”

“Why try to track HIM down?” Elyse asked.

“We’re pretty sure he’s the culprit,” I said, being circumspect because of the kids. “The evidence is anecdotal, but it makes sense. Jess suspects he drugged Carla, but now we’re going to have a hell of a time proving it.”

“She’s deranged!” Elyse said.

“I don’t know what her problem is,” I said. “But that little girl is being fed a line that’s going to cause her, and us, no end of trouble in the long-term. What happens when she tells one of these turkeys what her mom has been telling her?”

“Tell us what, Dad?” Matthew asked.

“Just some silly story, Foo. Don’t worry about it.”

“OK,” he said, and I let out a small sigh of relief.

“Well, shit,” Elyse said. “But what now? Exhume the body? You’d never get a court order for that unless Carla cooperated and she’s not going to do that from what Abbie was telling me.”

“No, I think we’re at a dead end here,” I said.

“Tiger, do you think that accident was here in the area?”

“Who knows? Why?”

“Let me make a call. I’ll use the study.”

I nodded and went back to playing with the kids. Nearly twenty minutes later, Jessica was back, notepad in hand.

“We broke a few rules, but nobody will really care. On February 10, 1988, Dustin Brady was hit by a car and brought to the ER in full arrest with massive head injuries. He never regained consciousness nor did his heart ever beat on its own. Intubated, CPR, the usual drugs, never had a shockable rhythm. The head injury was too massive to survive. Doctor Thatcher pronounced him after about thirty minutes of futility. There was no autopsy because the cause of death was obvious. His body was claimed by Carla.”

“What?!” I gasped in surprise.

“There was no next of kin in the computer. We’d have to pull the paper records to see more details, but that requires a written request, and needs a signature from someone at Doctor Barton’s level. Looking up past cases in the computer is easy; we do that all the time for repeat patients and for teaching purposes. Anyway, it does make sense, right? She was working for him, so she would have been the logical person to show up at the hospital if he was hurt.”

“Does it say anything else?”

“You aren’t going to like this, but his body was picked up by a funeral home that mostly does cremations.”

“Oh for the love of ... shit!” I exclaimed.

“It does make sense given what’s in his file. No listed next of kin. I suspect his will specified cremation. We see that a lot in people who don’t have families, or don’t have good relationships with their families.”

“So now what?” Kara asked.

“I suppose we could try to find the police or fire department records and find the car that hit him and the owner, but unless Carla was driving the car, I can’t see where that’s anything other than grasping at straws. And I suspect calling the funeral home won’t get us anything other than Carla’s name, either.”

“She’s not going to go away,” Jessica said.

“No, she’s not,” I agreed. “At this point, all I can do is call Gwen Meyer on Monday and ask her advice. I suspect she’ll tell us to get a restraining order against Carla, but that only helps so much.”

“You’re not responsible for what happens to Rachel, Steve,” Jessica said.

“I know that! But that doesn’t mean I can’t be concerned for her well-being.”

“Just make sure you keep your level of concern appropriate.”

“I will, Babe. I promise. I just wish there was SOME way to find out what happened.”

“Well, if she was given something like GHB, or a fairly new drug, propofol, she wouldn’t be suppressing the memory, she’d have no memory. Even counseling won’t help. I suppose it’s possible you could track down Dustin’s family and find a brother or father and use their samples, but those results are less conclusive, assuming you could even get them to cooperate. And if they did, I can’t imagine anything other than the same 99.999% accuracy convincing Carla. Her mind is made up and at this point, I wonder if facts could even change it.”

“Wonderful,” I sighed.

“Call Gwen on Monday and we’ll take it from there,” Jessica replied. “Now, let’s just enjoy the rest of the day!”

We spent the rest of the afternoon with the kids, had a nice dinner, and then got ready for our usual Guys’ and Girls’ night. I had one task I didn’t relish, and that was talking to Jill. She was going to be disappointed; I hoped she wouldn’t be angry. When I went to check on the kids, I pulled her aside.

“I talked with Jessica and Kara, and the three of us think we should end it, and you should find a boy your own age.”

She gave me a nasty look, but then her face softened, “I guess I knew that was going to happen. Keisha warned me, but I had hoped I could entice you!”

I chuckled, “It WAS enticing, but I really do have to stick to the rules.”

She nodded, and looked a bit sad. She walked away without saying anything else. The swift change from anger, to acceptance to disappointment reminded me of my own mood swings. I wondered if there was something I could do to make her feel better, but decided that I’d probably just make things worse. I went back to the house to rejoin the guys, thinking about just how much fun it would have been.

January 27, 1992, Chicago, Illinois

“I’m sorry about missing the last two weeks, Doctor Mercer. Business made it impossible.”

“I understand. You’ve been making good progress. Has anything happened?”

“Just a visit from someone who caused some serious turmoil in my life.”

I quickly explained what had happened on Saturday, and reassured Doctor Mercer that everything was OK between Jessica, Kara, and me.

“Bethany talked to me about this young woman in the past. If what you say is true, and I have no reason to doubt it, she’s really stuck in a bad position. If that other man were alive, MAYBE it could be resolved, but if he did rape her by drugging her, he’d be an idiot to agree to a DNA test, well, if that were possible.”

“Exactly. Impasse. I’m going to speak to my family lawyer later today and ask her to file for a restraining order, I guess.”

“I don’t see what else you can do,” Doctor Mercer agreed. “All she can do is cause trouble in your life. But that doesn’t seem to be affecting anything too seriously; how are you doing otherwise?”

“I had an interesting revelation about sex, power, and maturity levels. I wonder who you think was the more mature and who had the power in my relationship with my sister.”

“I think your sister was easily more mature. In fact, until her meltdown that led to her breaking up with Jorge and getting arrested, she was still more mature than you were.”

I chuckled, “I know more than a few people who would agree with you!”

“Things started changing when you accepted Jessica back with no conditions. They really moved ahead when Nick died. You cemented it when you came to me and admitted to being Abel.”

“What about power?”

“That’s a difficult thing to say,” Doctor Mercer said. “First of all, your mother held ALL the power in your home. All of it. She used threats, tantrums, and every other emotional tactic she could to control the entire family, with disastrous results. Think about this for a moment. You and your sister engaged in incest. Your brother was arrested, twice, for exposing himself to pre-pubescent girls, and your mother excused it both times. You have a string of lovers longer than those Tom Clancy novels you love. Your sister has a string of failed relationships with everyone but you, and now WITH you. Your dad, well, bless his heart, he let her get away with most of this.

“So, your mother had all the power. One of your major acts of rebellion, in that long string of lovers, was taking your own sister to bed. But that wasn’t as free of an act as you seem to think. Your sister held the exact same kind of power over you that your mother did. She used the same kind of emotional manipulation that your mother did. She was just more subtle and conniving, if you will. All of THAT set you up to be manipulated by other girls. Your sister’s miscalculation, if you will, was the older woman that seduced you. Without THAT, you might well have been a virgin on that first day of spring break.”

“That’s a pretty big stretch, don’t you think?”

“Is it? Why did Birgit decide to make love with you?”

“Because she saw something in me had changed.”

“And how did you become lovers with her host sister?”

“Because she set it up. Oh, God damn!”

“The chain of events is clear, Steve. Your ‘older woman’ thwarted your sister’s plan. Had you been a virgin, you might well have decided to run off to some place where nobody knew you and pretend to be married and everything else your sister wanted. She would have been able to easily convince you that sex with anyone else would pale by comparison. I believe you told me that was the case.”

“It was beyond special,” I said. “Or so I thought until recently.”

“I don’t think we’d be having this conversation. I think you and your sister would be in some small town, pretending to be Mr. and Mrs. Adams with three or four kids. Both happy and neither of you ever even thinking of being with someone else. That’s how close the bond was.”

“Wow,” I sighed. “Now what?”

“We keep going. Let me get the usual questions out of the way.”

She did, and I gave the same answers.

“Let’s talk about power in your relationships now. I know you’ve told me it’s changed. Do you feel anyone has power over you at this point?”

I chuckled, “Besides a certain three-and-a-half-year-old?”

Doctor Mercer laughed, “Eldest daughters tend to have that effect on their daddies. I was thinking older women!”

“She’s going to get older,” I laughed. “And get worse! Anyway, no. The power has completely shifted to me from the girls over the past couple of months. Even Elyse, who probably had the most power, is an equal now.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“Good. Not from the standpoint of lording it over people, but for once, finally, I feel as if I have a bit of control over my life. The Universe seems to disagree, and keeps throwing curveballs and setting up roadblocks, but I don’t feel as if I’m being led around. Well, not too much.”

“Not too much?”

I chuckled, “There is one woman with whom I’m basically negotiating a power arrangement.”

“Another woman?”

“Not like that! This is purely business. Not sex. It’s an interesting dynamic. She knows exactly what she wants from me, and I’m trying to decide if I’m being manipulated, led, or guided. If it’s guided, I’m cool with it. If it’s the others, I’ll have to push back and find a modus vivendi we can agree on.”

“The woman from the Foundation that’s sponsoring Bethany’s new clinic?”

“Yes. She did a very good job of playing the shy, reserved, frightened little girl right up until she had me exactly where she wanted me!”

“I’m guessing that was her bed, and that part is over. Hence your comment about her before.”

“Guilty as charged, Doc. You know me too well! And I’m actually being a bit dramatic. Much of her introversion and nervousness was real and she had to overcome them. But there is no possibility of sex coming into our relationship now. That was, in a sense, a business transaction as well. Call it, a handshake on the deal. Just a very intimate handshake!”

Doctor Mercer laughed, “Only you! I swear, I’m going to write a book!”

“I have the journals. Maybe I’ll write the book!”

“I’d leave some things out if I were you.”

“I hear you, but who I am is so deeply tied to those things, I’m not sure I could do that. It simply wouldn’t make sense. The path to here is only traveled via that defining disaster.”

“I see your point. But, getting back to the power thing. Use it wisely, Steve. Be very careful about manipulating people, especially Jessica. She has too much baggage for you to risk that.”

“Don’t worry, Doc,” I said, trying to reassure her. “We talked about «agape». I’m putting that into practice.”

“Good. I’ll talk to you next Monday.”

“Thanks.”

After hanging up, I headed to the office. We had our leadership meeting, as we’d decided to call what had been the staff meeting when it had included everyone. Afterwards, I placed a call to Gwen Meyer, but she was unavailable. I left a message asking her to call as soon as possible, and started answering e-mails. She called about fifteen minutes later.

“Hi Gwen, thanks for calling back.”

“What can I do for you today? Another impending Adams’ child?”

I chuckled, “No. No more of those. I personally took care of THAT a couple of months back.”

Gwen laughed, “It’s about time! Anyway, what’s up?”

“Carla Rizzi. Her daughter showed up at my door on Saturday and asked to see her dad. We fed her milk and cookies and, fortunately she knew her phone number. We called Carla who came to get her daughter, but my wives and I talked to Carla a bit. She’s been telling her daughter I’m her father.”

“I’m not sure there any law against that, but I think you need a restraining order.”

“Against Carla? Probably. Please don’t include the child. That’s the LAST thing I want.”

“It would be nearly impossible to get such a thing, anyway, and even more impossible to enforce. In the end, Miss Rizzi would likely be arrested and her daughter put in foster care. I suspect you wouldn’t want that.”

“No, but isn’t that a risk with Carla?”

“Yes, but only if you call the police. Maybe, just maybe, the restraining order will make her stop. If it doesn’t, you might have to have her arrested.”

“That is also the LAST thing I want.”

“Well, I think your only other hope is to find out who the real father is.”

“I have a strong suspicion, but the man died in an auto-versus-pedestrian accident four years ago. And he was cremated.”

“Then unless Miss Rizzi admits the truth, you don’t have much hope.”

“Jess thinks that she was drugged, either GHB or prop-something. Both prevent memories from forming.”

“Date rape? I suppose that’s possible, but if it was one of the date-rape drugs, you’ll never get the truth, especially if your suspected rapist is dead and cremated.”