Chapter 4

The next morning Rick initiated a pattern that he continued for the following week. He just continued to heat more chicken soup and feed it to her. Between times she slept, often with him in the bed beside her. Although it might have been his imagination, Rick felt that Susan slept much more soundly when he was lying next to her. He came to love the feeling as Susan would almost awaken, rub her body against his, and then relax again back into a deep sleep when she found he was still beside her.

After nearly a week spent in bed Susan started to take an interest in her surroundings and Rick thought it was time to try to find out what had happened. He had ordered some clothing for her from a mail-order house and she was now sitting opposite him at the breakfast table wearing a blue flannel bathrobe with her monogram on it that he had bought for her. Rick was pleased to see that her color had improved significantly. She seemed to adore her new robe.

"Sue, where have you been for the last four years?" he asked softly.

She tried a little smile and replied, "I really don't know. I guess I started to figure out where I was a couple of years ago. Between that point and the time we were together, there are just brief episodes I can dimly recall. For example, I think I was court-martialed. I must have been, because I was dismissed from the service and that can only happen in a general court-martial. I can't remember anything about it.

"I ... I've been subsisting. It seems there were a few antiwar groups that wanted to make me a heroine but they found I wasn't antiwar." She smiled faintly and added, "As a matter of fact, I was pretty bloodthirsty."

She looked at him and changed the subject, speaking very softly. Her words almost killed him: "Mr. Jackson, could ... could I be your ... maid? I realize I don't know very much about housekeeping and I certainly can't do very much yet, but if I could just stay here with you, as soon as I'm able, I'll take care of the apartment and cook and ... and ... perform any services you might want."

She looked at him with an intensity that almost made him cry as she repeated, "Any services I am capable of performing. Do you understand?"

Rick's heart turned over. Being very careful with his choice of words and recognizing the sense of total defeat in the girl he changed the subject and asked, "How did you find me, Susan?"

"I saw your picture in the paper a few months ago. I just hoped you might remember me. How did you find me, Mr. Jackson? The last few days have been just a vague blur."

Again his heart lurched. "Susan, you found me. But I think you just answered a question I had. Do you remember talking to me on the telephone?" She just shook her head, no. "I didn't think you did," he continued. "You did, though. You sounded like you were just reciting lines and weren't hearing my replies. I guess you weren't, were you?"

Again she shook her head. Then she gave him a very small but very warm smile. "Thank you, Mr. Jackson, for the beautiful bathrobe. It feels so good against my skin. It's the very first clothing of my very own I've had since I was kicked out of the Navy. I'll pay you for it as soon as I can earn some money."

Again Rick's heart turned over when she continued, "Of course, it's so much nicer than anything I would have bought for myself. It's much too nice for a maid to be wearing."

Rick excused himself and went to the telephone. First he called his office and asked for his security chief. "Brad, this is Jackson. I know you have great connections in Washington. I need a fast check run. There was a general court-martial in the Pacific — I'm guessing it was between three and four years ago, and probably at Subic Bay. The defendant was Lieutenant Susan Jennings, U.S. Navy Nurse Corps. She was convicted and dismissed from the service. I want everything you can get on the trial and its outcome, and I want it fast. Understand? Call me at home as soon as you get anything at all." The instructions were acknowledged and he hung up.

Then he placed another call. A voice answered, "Cameron residence." Rick identified himself and asked to speak to Ginny. Moments later she was on the phone. Ginny Cameron was far better known to the movie-going public as Marcia Matthews. Now rated the top female box-office star in Hollywood, she had just received an Academy Award nomination for her latest film, a motion picture that had been financially backed by Rick Jackson.

She had first contacted Rick nearly three years earlier as a result of a search she had been conducting. She, too, had been desperately trying to find Susan Jennings. Subsequently, Rick had made tens of millions of dollars backing two of her films.

"Hi Rick! What's new?" she asked brightly.

"Ginny, are you still ... friendly ... with that overpriced meat cutter?"

He could actually hear her grin over the phone. "If you are referring to Dr. Michael Chapman, Fellow of the American Academy of Plastic Surgery, the answer is yes. Why? Did you crack up one of your fancy sports cars? Need a little repair work on your face, perhaps?"

Rick realized with a start that he had already relaxed. He realized it was the effect Ginny always had on him. Moreover, he realized that her incredible personal warmth that came across in her films was, along with her incredible beauty, substantially responsible for her motion picture successes.

"It's not for me," he replied. "Do you remember a girl named Susan Jennings? I think I heard you mention her name once or twice."

There was an immediate stillness on the line. When Ginny spoke again it was in a hushed and near-reverent tone. "Rick, did you find her?"

"Honey, believe it or not, she found me. And Ginny, she's really in very bad shape. She needs help ... an awful lot of it."

He took a deep breath and continued, "Look, I've been teasing you about Mike for a long time but I know he's the very best there is at what he does. I know he's booked for fifteen years in advance, but do you think you could get him to take a look at Susan and try to work her in? Money is not an issue!"

Ginny remained silent for a few moments longer. When she finally spoke it was almost as if she hadn't heard a word Rick had said other than Susan's name. "How soon can I see her?" she asked in the same reverent tone.

"Could I bring her over to your place sometime today? Would that be possible?" he asked.

"Could you bring her over right now?" she replied. Again, there was the same strange voice tone.

"We'll be over in less than an hour, if that's convenient," he said.

"Any time would be convenient," she responded and then hung up.

Returning to the kitchen he found Susan still sitting patiently at the kitchen table. "Susan," he said, "this apartment is really kind of small — there's only one bedroom. But I know a big movie star named Marcia Matthews who might be able to use you as a maid if you're willing. Are you?"

His heart sank as he saw the light in her eyes suddenly die. Then she smiled very weakly and said, "Thank you, Mr. Jackson, for caring. I'll try to do my very best for Miss Matthews. When can I meet her and how do I get to her house?"

Suddenly Susan's face fell. "Could I borrow some money? Maybe five dollars? I'll ask Miss Matthews to send it back to you from my very first paycheck. It's ... It's a little hard getting around in Hollywood using public transportation."

Suddenly she began to weep in a hopeless-sounding fashion. He tried to take her into his arms, but she wouldn't let him. She just sat upright on the kitchen chair with tears streaming from her eyes. Looking straight ahead, she said, "Sir, that won't be enough. I need a lot of money. Maybe even fifty dollars. I have no clothes. I looked around, but I guess you threw out what I was wearing when you met me. All I have is this beautiful bathrobe."

She immediately thought about returning it to the store and using the money to buy a blouse and skirt. But then she realized that it was monogrammed and was probably not returnable. To her the problem was insoluble. Fifty dollars was more money than she had had in the entire previous year.

Meanwhile Rick was close to tears again. The pain and humiliation that this girl had suffered and was still experiencing was inhuman. Leaving the room for a moment, he picked up some things and returned with three large boxes in his arms. "I think you'll find something here, Susan. All of these things are yours."

Susan opened the first box and found brand-new women's clothing — mostly sporty things — in the smallest sizes available. Dropping the robe to the floor, she put on a blouse and skirt. Even though it was the smallest size the company made, the skirt almost fell off her body. She was slim-hipped, but all that showed were her very sharp hip bones. After he located a couple of safety pins Susan was able to pin the sides enough for it to stay on.

Then she looked up at him with tears streaming from her eyes. "There's no way I can thank you, sir. No way at all! These are very expensive, I know. Far more expensive than anything I would ever think of buying. May I return some so I won't owe you quite so much money? I won't ever be able to wear them all, anyway, and it will take me years to earn the money I owe you already."

Rick could scarcely see through the tears that suddenly clouded his eyes. Instead he helped her pack a couple of small bags with the things she thought she might need and then carried them down to his car. After helping her in — and getting a curious glance from Susan in the process — he got behind the wheel and headed over to Beverly Hills. Soon they reached the gates of Ginny's estate. Rolling up the driveway, he stopped at the gracious entry.

As he got out, the front door opened. It was Ginny who stood waiting as he helped Sue out of his car. Tears were rolling unchecked down her cheeks in twin streams as the girl was helped up the steps.

Susan extended her hand and said, "Good morning, Miss Matthews. Mr. Jackson said you might consider hiring me as a maid."

Susan was dumfounded when the beautiful woman ignored her outstretched hand and instead took her into her arms and just held her close. Sue looked into the woman's eyes and a light of recognition went on in her brain. She was looking into such familiar brilliant emerald-green eyes and seeing hair that was a glorious shade of auburn. "You aren't ... You can't be ... Ginny?"

At the sound of her name, Ginny Cameron completely lost control and started to bawl like a baby. Susan could feel her head nod as she just wept uncontrollably. Susan wrapped her arms around the woman and tried to comfort her.

This caused Ginny to forcibly pull herself together. "Susan Jennings, you haven't changed a bit! You're still trying to protect me and comfort me, aren't you?"

Embarrassed, Susan just shook her head. "No, ma'am, Miss Matthews." With her face falling she added, "I do apologize for the familiarity, though. Maids certainly don't hug their employers." Then, with a small, very shy little smile she added, "But, Miss Cameron, you look simply exquisite! I'm so very happy for you!"

It was only through an enormous effort of will that Ginny did not dissolve into tears again. Putting her arm under Susan's she escorted her through the house and out onto the pool terrace. There a tall, very handsome man was standing waiting for them.

"Susan," Ginny said, "I would like you to meet Mike Chapman, a very dear friend of mine." Looking at him tears started to flow as she said, "Mike, I don't know how to introduce Susan to you." Her voice broke and she began to cry again. "Darling, but for Susan I would have been dead four years ago. What can I possibly call her?"

Susan extended her hand and said diffidently, "How do you do, Mr. Chapman. I'm very pleased to meet you."

Mike knew something of Susan's background and so was watching her closely. As a result, he was able quickly to grab her the instant he saw her knees start to buckle. Helping her to a chair, he took a glass of water and held it for her while she sipped.

Looking up at him gratefully, she softly added, "Thank you, sir. I guess I'm not as strong yet as I thought I was." But then with a smile she continued, "But I'm sure to be ready to go to work as Miss Matthews maid in just a day or so."

Mike's heart twisted listening to this poor tortured girl. As a plastic surgeon he was expert at judging bone structure and unchangeable physical characteristics. Looking at her closely he instantly concluded that Susan should be a very beautiful woman. He said, "Susan, I'm a plastic surgeon. Ginny tells me you have some scars that should be tended to. May I examine you now, please?"

Again his heart was wrenched by her reply: "Of course, sir, but it's really very premature. I had them looked at in a city hospital once and it will take years and years for me to save that kind of money..." Suddenly her eyes widened and she asked, "Are you Dr. Michael Chapman?"

He nodded and she just shook her head steadily. "Thank you, sir, but no. I've heard of you — I guess everyone has. You are the very best in the profession. I couldn't earn enough in my lifetime to pay your fee to remove even one of the scars. I am ... I was ... a nurse. The scars are really pretty bad."

Then she brightened and continued, "But they don't show at all, so there's really no need to bother."

Mike decided to try a different tack. "Young lady, you are coming with me to a bedroom to be examined. I cannot accept no for an answer. Ginny introduced me as a friend. Actually, I am her live-in lover and am slowly breaking down her resistance to the idea of marrying me. Your reappearance will certainly help. However, if I don't at least get to look at you, I get kicked out on the street. Since I can't live without being able to make love to Ginny's glorious body, I'm afraid it's either you or me. And I'm bigger than you are. Now let's go!"

He helped her to a spare bedroom and watched as she took off her clothes. Rick and Ginny followed them into the room but stayed in the background while Mike took out a pair of magnifying eyeglasses and carefully examined Susan's scars. Then he pulled down the bed covers, motioned for her to get in, and then gently tucked her into the bed.

When the three reached the terrace, Mike breathed a heavy sigh. "That is as bad as anything I have ever seen in my life," he said. "And that includes pictures in the medical books, as well. What happened?"

Although she was quietly crying Ginny looked up at him and said, "That poor kid! Mike, those scars should be mine! We were both prisoners in a North Vietnamese POW camp. We were ordered to assemble in the center of the compound for some reason. I got up, but fell down again. I was in pretty poor shape at the time. A guard was going to give me ten lashes with his bullwhip. Before he could swing it, though, Susan covered my body with her own. First, the guard gave her five lashes across her back and then motioned for her to roll over."

She looked at him with her green eyes melting with tears and continued, "Mike, she turned over and bridged her body over mine. Blood from the cuts on her back was dripping onto me, but she held herself above me with her arms and legs to keep from putting any weight on me. Can you imagine?" Tears were pouring from her eyes as she continued, "I could feel her shudder each time the whip cut into her body.

When he finished, the chief guard motioned towards a cross they had erected in the yard. I suspect it was Black and his friends that set that one up. At any rate, Susan saw the cross, smiled, and then gave me her shirt saying she wouldn't be needing it anymore.

"They tied her to the cross in the morning. That afternoon Rick and his men raided the camp. The last thing I saw was the cross standing bare in the compound. Rick had already taken her down. It was the last time I saw Susan Jennings until this morning."

She looked up at him with hope in her eyes, but with tears streaming down her cheeks and said, "Mike, if you will help that girl, I will do absolutely anything you ever want. Anything! I will be completely available to you for any purpose whatsoever."

With her eyes gleaming she asked, "Am I making myself clear, Mike? Absolutely anything! Forever!"

Turning to Jackson she said, "Rick, how can I sign over all of my rights to the films I've made to Susan? If it weren't for her I wouldn't be here and there wouldn't be any. Can you do that for me?"

Rick just shook his head doggedly and said, "I could, Ginny, but I won't. Believe me when I say she doesn't need money. She has all she could possibly use. Mike, if you can make her whole ... If you can even make her a little better ... There is no price I will not pay. I will give you absolutely anything! Mike, for the love of God, please help her," he cried.

Chapman had been looking from one to the other. Without responding directly to either of them he picked up the phone and called his hospital. He spoke to the hospital administrator and asked for the surgery to be set up for a very special operation. He ordered his full team to be ready for the first operation beginning the following morning. Surgery could take as much as three successive days for the first phase alone.