From The Grave

Chapter 18

Wayne walked into the office and April sat up with a shocked look.

"What are you doing here? You should be in your room, Wayne."

"I think that's what you really want isn't it, for me to be sedated and in my room." He wandered over to the desk and looked down at what she was doing.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she covered the papers and stood up to divert his attention. "You need your medication to help you heal."

He gave her a sour look and picked up the papers from the desk, nodding as he riffled through them.

"My company's financial data?" He dropped the sheets and stared at her.

"Well- somebody had to make sure things were being handled properly." She made a feeble gesture with her hand.

"I have a competent accounting department for that. How did you get these anyway?"

April stared at him. She knew there wasn't an answer that would please him or get her off the hook. Her face coloured and he bared his teeth, snatching up the phone.

"Who are you calling?"

He ignored her and asked for his company lawyer, asking him about the release of company financial data to April Weston. When he hung up he stood staring at the phone for an agonizing length of time then he walked over and slapped her hard on the face, knocking her back onto the edge of the desk.

"This was your little plan was it? Forge my name and use that to exercise your plans for my company? Keeping me on drugs and pretending to care about my recuperation while you took control of my business?"

"I was doing it for you- for us, Wayne." She sat up, her cheek burning like fire.

"And this so called deal with Gravestone, what about that?"

"It was an opportunity that just came up." Her surprise that he remembered that showed on her face. "You weren't well enough to make any decisions and I thought that I could help; he said you both had gone in on these types of partnerships before."

"And we know why I wasn't well don't we. April?" He leaned on the end of the desk on his knuckles.

She moved behind the desk, her hand still pressed against her stinging cheek.

"Wayne, it was for you... for your health..."

He picked up the phone and thrust it at her. "Get Bishop on the line and tell him I want a meeting."

She hesitated and he slammed the receiver on the desk. "Now!"

April took the phone and dialed, her eyes locked on Wayne's and in them she saw her future taking a sharp right turn.

"Bishop. April Weston. I ne—" She shook her head. "No, you don't understand. Wayne wants a meeting. Yes, Wayne. He wants a face to face, right away. No, no- everything's fine. He just- please do this, Bishop."

Wayne jabbed his finger toward the floor.

"He wants it here, at the home. Yes. Now. Right away." She listened a bit more then handed back the receiver and Wayne dropped it on the base. "He says he'll come in about two hours."

"Fine." He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her around to one of the chairs in front of the desk and sat her down. "Now you are going to tell me everything you did and what the deal was you made with Bishop."

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Bishop chugged around the Balsam Grove lounge used for interviews and discussions with families applying for space for loved (or not) ones. He stopped in front of the French doors and stared out at the grounds dotted with residents in various ambulatory states.

"Seems just the place for you, Jenner." His gruff voice spoiled the ambience of the room.

"Others had a similar opinion. I want to know what you and April have been up to, Bishop, and without any bullshit."

"Do I at least get a drink before we start?"

Wayne crossed to a cabinet, opening it and revealing a row of crystal glasses and another of various liquors and liqueurs.

"Rye?"

"Ugh, no. Whiskey, no ice."

Wayne handed him the glass and then directed him to sit and begin. After one refill, Bishop had laid out the agreement with April and the progress of the operation to that point.

"Understand, Jenner, I intend to own the stamp in the end."

"Never in doubt. We'll just have to see how that works out for you."

"My people are already down there."

"And apparently so is one of mine; not my first choice either, I might say. Your people better steer clear of her or there will be hell to pay."

Bishop slugged back his scotch and snorted a laugh. "I've already told them to take care of Miss Treeline after she removes Gretta Lawrence from the scene."

"You are fool, Gravestone." Wayne poured himself a healthy shot of rye and plopped an ice cube in on top. "In the first place, taking out all those people on that tiny island, and I emphasize the words, tiny island, gives any of them an almost zero chance of getting away. The flights are once a week only and the South Pacific is a pretty big, goddamn piece of water.

April Weston thought she could gain control of my business by keeping me drugged and under her care and then she stepped up her authority by partnering with you as well as hiring an assassin from a list I compiled for specific uses. She is no longer running any part of this show. As a matter of fact, she is no longer running anything." He swallowed his drink and slammed the glass down. "Now get the hell out."

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The gauze over her eyes wouldn't wipe away and April felt her head spin as she tried to lift her head. She closed her eyes and her body seemed to become weightless, small shivers darting behind her shoulders caused her to jerk slightly in the bed. Bed! Where was she? She opened her eyes again but the gauze seemed to filter her vision and nothing was clear.

"Ah, I see you're awake, Miss Weston. How are we feeling?"

"Carl? Is that you, Carl?"

"It is, Miss Weston, and I have something for you so let's sit up nicely for a minute okay?"

"What are- why am I in bed...?"

"There we go." He said, propping her up against the pillow. "Now open wide."

Wha-?" His hand pushed the pill into her mouth and he followed it with some water then clamped her nose. She lurched forward gulping for air and consequently swallowing the pill.

"There we go. That was easy, wasn't it? Now you just rest and look at the lovely paintings on the ceiling."

April's eyes widened as for an instant she realized where she was and she tried to reach out but her arms were leaden and her head began to grow thick, matching the words she was trying to form. Her head fell back on the pillow and her eyes fastened on the ceiling images of dancing virgins and flower baskets overflowing with wine and fruit. She was in the Balsam Grove tranquility wing, specifically in the room reserved for residents who couldn't hold on to reality.

But that wasn't her! She knew- she thought she knew... what was she trying to say? The images seemed to come alive and they smiled down at her, pointing and sprinkling flowers over her face and April sank lower in the pillow feeling the flowers begin to clog her throat and she closed her eyes, drifting with the dancers and struggling to breathe.