Porterville

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Mark Stevens CHAPTER NINETEEN

Britt pulled Alice to her feet, and together they looked down into the empty grave. Suddenly, as if she no longer had the strength to stand on her own, Alice fell against Britt. He quickly wrapped his arms around her, supporting her weight with his body. He hugged her close as the tears began falling. He didn't know what to say, so he remained silent, allowing her mind the time it needed to process reality; that her brother was not in his grave, and probably never had been.

Moments later Alice pulled away from him and made an attempt to clear her eyes.

"Where is my brother, Britt?" she asked. "If his grave is not here, then where is it?"

Britt remained silent. He looked into the empty grave once again and then allowed his eyes to return to her face.

"I'm not sure he is buried anywhere, Alice," he whispered softly.

"Excuse me, but is everything all right here?"

Startled, they both turned and discovered George Carson standing behind them.

"I was driving by and saw the two of you out here. Something told me you might be in some sort of trouble." His eyes darted around them and took in the hole. "Again, is everything all right?"

The look that suddenly appeared on the jeweler's face convinced Britt that the man realized what they had just discovered; rather, what they hadn't found. He made a quick decision,

"Hello, George," he greeted. "I'm glad you made the decision to check on us. Alice is very upset at the moment."

George Carson focused his attention solely on Alice. "What has you so upset, my dear?" he asked.

"It's been one big lie," she replied. She ran toward the house, her feet fairly flying up the steps leading to the top of the deck.

George turned and faced Britt. "Whatever is she referring to?"

Britt studied the man closely. He felt the man was trying to hide something, and the jeweler was doing a damn good job at playing dumb.

"George, you've lived most of your life here in Porterville, haven't you?"

The man nodded. "I have."

"Then I'm convinced of at least two things. First: You know exactly what's going on here. And second: There's no way in hell you could be "just driving by", as you say, and decide something was wrong."

Satisfied with the words he had spoken, Britt turned on his heel and went to join Alice in the house. He left the jeweler standing alone, a mixture of both surprise and shock on his face.

When Britt reached the back door, he hesitated before walking inside. He called out Alice's name, and she invited him in. He walked through the tiny kitchen, through the equally small dining room and joined her in the living room. He took a seat on the sofa beside her.

"Britt?"

He looked at her and forced a smile to appear on his face.

"Yeah, Alice?"

"Don't you think it's about time you told me what's really going on here?"

"At this point I'm not even sure myself." The words sounded false to him, and Britt felt like a coward.

"Evidently you knew my brother wasn't buried in the yard here. So, just where is he buried?"

"I wish I knew," he answered. "I really do," he added.

"Well, can you at least tell me how you knew he wasn't here?"

Britt stood to his feet. Hating himself, he said, "Alice, I've got to run an errand." He reached for one of her hands and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Hopefully everything will be in order this evening. I'm going to try my hardest to make it happen."

At the door he stopped and asked her if she was going back to work.

"My car's still there," she reminded him.

Britt was thoughtful for a moment. Then he said, "If you want to stay home, I'll see that you get your car back. It may have to wait until later this afternoon, but I will make sure it's returned to you."

"Part of me thinks I should return to work. It would certainly help me occupy my mind; however, I'm not sure I could handle it."

"If you want to stay here, I'll let Sam know. You know he wants you to do whatever you need to do."

"You'll bring my car home?"

He nodded. "I will. Like I said, it might not happen until this afternoon, but I'll make sure you get it."

"Then go," she said. "Just tell Sam I am sorry, and I'll make it up to him."

"Alice, you don't have a damned thing to make up where Sam's concerned. He knows you are going through a rough time."

Britt hurried to his car and quickly backed out into the street. His first stop would be the newspaper office. After that, he wasn't sure what his next move would be.

A short time later he parked in front of the Tribune and hurried inside the building, calling out Sam's name.

"Back here," the man called.

When Britt reached him, he told Sam that Alice had remained at home.

"Is she okay?" the older man asked.

"She's had one hell of a shock, Sam, but, to answer your question, she's okay. Or she will be soon, I believe."

Sam cast a sharp look in Britt's direction. "Britt, I've known for sometime now that you were getting into something over your head. Now, I have the feeling you've pushed Alice into it as well."

Britt leaned against the wall. "I'm afraid you might be right, Sam."

"The girl has had more than her share of trouble. Don't dump more on her."

"I know, Sam. I know."

"Don't you think it's about time you were honest with me? About what you have found out," Sam added.

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Catherine Williams unlocked the door and stepped inside her home. Over the years she had often suffered with severe migraine headaches. When they hit her, she would be in so much pain that her body could hardly function. Closing the door behind her, she felt a little relief, brought on by the darkness of the room. Anytime she was away from home she always pulled the drapes, leaving the large living room in darkness. That darkness now was what brought her just a tiny bit of relief from the pain.

Feeling nauseous, she fell on the couch, her head propped against one of the pillows. For a moment her thoughts reminded her that she had left her quilting partners to finish up a quilt they had been working on, and she felt guilty. Then another sharp pain forced its way through her head, erasing all thought of feelings.

Catherine had a prescription she took when these attacks hit her, but she had forgotten to have it refilled. She rose up on the couch with thoughts of trying to reach the telephone and call the pharmacy. If she could reach the phone and make the call, then she could have Britt pick the medicine up for her.

She realized immediately she had made a mistake. She could not tolerate being upright. She forced her body to make its way slowly downward until she was once again on her back. Each heart beat sent a sharp pain through her brain. She had not had a migraine this bad in a very long time.

Suddenly a pain, sharper than any other, racked her body, caused by the sound of the doorbell ringing. She didn't even try to get up and answer it. There was no way she could stand to her feet, let alone make the trip to the door. She laid there willing her visitor to turn away from her door.

However the visitor, who ever he was, seemed determined that she was there. The bell continued ringing. Catherine realized her car was in the drive, so whoever was at her door knew she was home.

Catherine took a deep breath and called out as loudly as she could, "Come in." Her voice was weak, and she had to call out a second time before she was heard.

She heard the door open and tried to sit up. As she had before, Catherine felt sick and remained on her back.

"Catherine?"

Another pain racked Catherine's body, this time, brought on by the voice; rather, the owner of the voice.

"Is that you, Elaine?"

Catherine heard the sound of foot steps as they walked from the hall into her living room.

"Is everything all right, Catherine?"

Catherine forced her eyes to remain open, and she discovered Elaine McKenzie standing before her.

"Elaine, do forgive me for not greeting you properly. I have an awful migraine, and I can't seem to function very well."

"I am sorry for your pain, Catherine. Can I get you something for you?"

Catherine shook her head. Although the movement was only slight, it brought added pain to her.

"I have medicine I usually take, but I forgot to have it refilled."

"Would you like me to go to the pharmacy for you? I would, you know."

"I know, and I appreciate it, Elaine. I don't want to put anything on you. I can have Britt pick it up for me later; after he comes home."

"You know, Catherine, I have had my share of those dastardly headaches myself. In fact, I always keep a prescription with me. I don't mind sharing with you."

Catherine watched as Elaine reached into her purse and pulled a bottle out. She called the name of the medication out. "That's what I take for my headaches," she said.

Catherine told her she took the same one.

"The doctor told me it's a drug they prescribe quite often, and that it's perfectly safe to take."

"My doctor told me the same thing," Catherine whispered.

"Catherine, if you will excuse my forwardness, I will bring you a glass of water and give you one of these pills. There's no reason why you should have to wait until your son returns home," she added.

Another sharp pain forced its way through Catherine's brain, helping her to make a decision.

"If you wouldn't mind," she whispered.

"Of course I don't mind, Catherine. I will return shortly."

Catherine felt a hand on her shoulder and opened her eyes.

Elaine was standing beside her, a smile on her face. "Here you go, Catherine," she said. "Can you sit up enough to take this?"

Catherine managed to right herself so she could take the medicine Elaine handed her. She put the capsules in her mouth and took the glass from the woman.

Elaine took the glass back and said, "Just lie down and rest, Catherine. If your headaches are like mine sleep is what helps get rid of them."

"I know. Thanks, Elaine."

Catherine watched as Elaine took a seat across the room from her.

"Do you mind if I stay with you for a few moments, Catherine? I want to make sure you're going to be all right."

"It's not necessary, but you are welcomed in my home. Welcomed anytime, Elaine," she added softly.

"Catherine, I hope you realize that I have always respected you; not only as a good supporter of Porterville, but as a woman as well. You and Daniel have had a good life here. I truly believe that," she added.

Catherine's mind was beginning to shut down enough that her pain was beginning to fade somewhat. Because of that, she was having a bit of trouble following Elaine's words.

"I have always respected your family," Catherine said. The medicine was doing its job now, and it was getting difficult for her to speak.

"I know you love your son very much, Catherine. I hope you realize just how much I love my own son."

"I have always known how you felt about your son. "Always, ever since---"

Elaine McKenzie stood to her feet and made her way to the couch.

"Ever since?"

Catherine closed her eyes. The medicine had kicked in, and now her body was at rest. She didn't answer Elaine McKenzie's question.

"Get your rest, Catherine," Elaine said and walked to the door. Before leaving she turned and said, "You are a fine woman, Catherine Williams. I am truly sorry your son is not more like you."

Devon McKenzie's mother cast another look at the sleeping woman on the couch and walked out the door, closing it behind her.

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Britt sat at his computer at the Tribune but saw nothing on the screen before him. Instead, he sat in his chair drumming his fingers on the desk top. He had been toying with an idea for almost an hour, trying to make up his mind whether he should follow up on it.

"Are you going to do that the rest of the afternoon?"

He looked up and saw Sam leaning against his desk. The sudden appearance of the newspaper man made up his mind for him.

"Sam, do you know Doc Wilcox's telephone number?"

"What you want with the doc? You sick?"

"The number, Sam; you know it?"

Sam turned and left the room. When he returned he was carrying a paperback book. He threw it down on Britt's desk and said,

"Look it up. Been the same number long as I can remember," Sam added.

"Don't cop a fucking attitude with me, Sam." Britt picked up the telephone directory, already regretting the words he had just uttered.

Sam turned to leave the room and didn't respond.

"Wait, Sam. I didn't mean to be such an ass. Forgive me?"

Sam shrugged his shoulders. "Nothing to forgive," he said and left the room.

Britt opened the book to search for Martin Wilcox MD's telephone number, wondering why the hell everybody in Porterville declared such an alliance with the McKenzie family.

A woman's voice Britt didn't recognize greeted him.

"My name's Britt Williams. Is there a time I could see Doctor Wilcox?"

"Why do you need to see the doctor?"

He hastened to say he wasn't sick, nor did he need to see the doctor as a patient. "I just have some questions to ask him. Please, if you will make me an appointment, I will be more than willing to pay for an office visit."

"Very well, Mr. Williams, can you be in the office in an hour?"

He assured her he could and gave her the information she asked for.

"Very well, Mr. Williams, we'll see you in one hour."

Britt ended his call and went back to drumming his fingers on the desk. He couldn't get Sam out of his mind, so he got up and went in search of the man. He found him working on the next day's publication.

"Sam, can I have a chat with you?"

Sam continued working as he said, "What's on your mind?"

"Look at me Sam. Please," he added.

Sam stopped his work and raised his head. Two sets of eyes locked together.

"I'm looking," Sam told him. "And listening," he added.

"I was an ass earlier and I feel bad at the way I acted."

"Like I told you then, you did nothing to apologize for." Sam put his hands on his hips and said, "Did you call Doc Wilcox?"

Britt nodded. "I did. I have an appointment in an hour to see him."

"You sure you're not ailing?"

"I'm fine. I just want to ask Doc some questions."

"You realize he might not be able to answer some of them? You know, patient confidentially being the way it is."

"I'm aware of that, Sam."

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Britt got out of his car and hurried inside Martin Wilcox's office and greeted the woman at the desk.

"Have a seat, Mr. Williams. The doctor will be with you shortly."

Britt thanked the woman and went to take a seat. He was the only other person in the waiting room. He was reaching for a magazine on the table next to him when a door opened.

"Britt Williams, how in the world are you?"

He looked up and saw an elderly man standing in the doorway. He stood to his feet and walked over to greet the man who had introduced him to the world for the first time over forty years ago.

Giving the doctor a smile, he said, "I can't really complain, Dr. Wilcox," he said.

Martin Wilcox pulled the door shut and said, "So, do we need to be in an exam room or my office?"

"Office would be nice," Britt assured him with a smile.

He followed the doctor down the hall all the way to the end. Once inside, the doctor took a seat at his desk and Britt sat in one of the two chairs in front of the desk.

The doctor folded his hands and rested them on the desk top. "Now, suppose you tell me what's on your mind?"

"I know you brought me into the world, Doc. As with most of the kids of my generation," he added.

"It's true, I have."

"What about Alice Cooper and her twin brother?"

Britt watched as a look of caution began to replace the smile on the doctor's face.

"Yes, I delivered Alice. As well as her brother," he said.

"What about Devon McKenzie?"

"See here, Britt, what the hell are you getting at?"

"Relax, Doc. Look, I know you have a responsibility to your patients. I'm not going to ask you anything that would cause you to break that relationship."

A look of relief appeared on Martin Wilcox's face.

"However, birth announcements are made known publicly everywhere. So you should be able to answer my last question, Doc."

The doctor leaned back in his chair. "You are right, Britt, in that most all birth announcements are publicized. Therefore, yeah, I delivered Alice Cooper and her twin brother."

Britt leaned forward in his chair. "Here comes the tricky part, Doc. I know you are bound by patient's rights. I also know that when I was born not much was known about DNA, at least not as we know it by today's standards. It wasn't even around when the Cooper twins were born either. Isn't that correct?"

The doctor gave a nod. "That's correct, it wasn't."

"Were you called in when Thomas Cooper Jr.died?"

"Are you asking if I signed the death certificate?"

"I am."

Martin Wilcox remained silent for a full moment. Finally he asked, "Why?"

"Excuse me?"

The doctor repeated, "Why? What are you really after here, Britt? I had heard you had returned home so you could write some sort of book. Is that what this is all about?"

"That was the initial reason for me spending the entire summer here," Britt answered.

"Initially?"

"That's right, it was. However, a lot has changed since my arrival back in town."

"Is everything all right with your mother? I haven't seen Catherine in quite some time."

"She's fine," Britt assured the man. She's had some unnecessary stress this summer, but other than that, she's doing great."

"Stress brought on by you?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Stress isn't good."

Britt returned to the topic at hand. "So, were you the attending physician who signed the Cooper child's death certificate?"

"I was."

"Are you positive it was the Cooper baby?"

"Are you questioning my ability as a medical doctor?"

Britt remained with his eyes on the doctor's face and didn't say a word.

Martin Wilcox suddenly leaned forward and brought his fist down hard on the top of his desk.

"You need to back off, Britt, because, by God, if you don't, you have no idea the mess you will be opening up here. A mess that I don't think you will want to find yourself in."

Britt forced himself to remain calm. "That's not a threat, is it, Doc?"

"Perhaps you've been gone too long, Britt, and you've forgotten just how big the McKenzie's really are. They control most everything and everyone in town."

"Do they control you, Doc?"

Martin Wilcox stood to his feet and walked around his desk. When he reached Britt he extended his hand.

"It was good seeing you, Britt. How much longer are you going to be in town?"

Britt also stood up. Taking the doctor's hand he said, "When all of my questions have been answered."

He walked to the door. "Thanks for your time, Doc. I'll pay on my way out."

"No need, Britt. Just be careful, okay?"

Britt didn't give the man an answer. He hurried down the hall and left the building. When he reached his car, he slid behind the wheel but made no effort to leave. Instead he allowed everything he had discovered so far to run through his mind. How could so many people be controlled by the McKenzie family? Even his own mother had been a victim. Still was, he corrected himself.

He forced everything to leave his head and allowed only Devon and Alice to remain. It was time, he knew, to try and explain to them what he had discovered. Problem was, however, he didn't know which one to go to first. It was such a wild unbelievable tale he doubted either one of them would take him seriously.

Britt thought about approaching Alice first. She was home, and time wise, now would be good. But then he remembered Devon and how much he loved the guy. The love they shared made him feel obligated to tell the man first. But what would he say? Hell, what did he really know? The only solid thing he had was the empty grave in the Cooper's back yard.

Britt suddenly leaned forward with his hands on the wheel. "That's the answer," he cried out.

Britt reached for his phone beside him and punched a button.

In his ear, he heard a voice say, "What's up, Britt?"

"Are you free for lunch, Dev?"

"Can you give me half an hour?"

"I can do that. I will pick something up and then stop by for you. We'll go to Mom's for lunch. She's at the center working so we should have plenty of privacy."

"Oh, do we need privacy?"

"More than you can possibly know, Dev. I'll see you soon."

"Britt, are you all right? Is everything okay?"

"I love you, Dev."

Britt ended his conversation, leaving a very bewildered Devon speechless and full of worry.