Chapter 11
Two hours after receiving notification of their father's death, Jake and Debbie Turner were aboard an Erica Air turboprop at Dulles International Airport. The pilot and copilot finished their preflight checks, received clearance from the tower, and rolled out onto the taxiway. Debbie held Jake's hand tightly, both of them in shock. Debbie was the most upset he had ever seen her as she sniffled on his shoulder.
For once, Melissa was not waiting for him at the airport. Instead, a somber Sven Johannson gathered their gear and herded them to a waiting car. A black-liveried driver stowed their bags as Sven ushered them into the Lincoln's back seat.
"Everyone is at you mother's house, Melissa thought it would be better if she stayed with Helen," Sven said.
Jake nodded; words were hard for him to come by at the time. Jake could not believe that Charles was dead. Just ten days ago, he and Charles had spent the day deep-sea fishing. The fishing trip was a birthday present from Melissa when Charles had turned seventy a few months earlier. Charles seemed in good heath and spirits that day. The weather was perfect and the fishing was good, the two men had talked and wasted bait all day. Prophetically, Charles had talked about his health.
"Jake, I've lived ten years past what doctors thought was possible after my first heart attack. I am probably only alive now because of your extraordinary mother's efforts."
Jake started to say something but Charles held up his hand.
"Let me finish, Son. I'm seventy years old now," Charles continued, "and I've had the most wonderful life a person could imagine. I have a terrific wife, marvelous children and more money than I ever dreamed of. So, when I shuffle off it will be without regret. And while I'm listing good things in my life Jacob, I need to tell you that from the minute you woke up from that coma you have been the finest young man I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. I would have been proud of you for any of your individual accomplishments; all of them combined are awe-inspiring. Hell I'd be proud just to know you, Jake, let alone be your father.
"I am counting on you to hold our family together if something happens to me. The only regret I think I would have if I died tomorrow would be the idea of leaving Joseph and Julia without a father. They are both mature for their age and your mother is perfectly capable of raising them, but I will feel much better knowing you'll be around..."
Jake snapped out of his reverie when the limousine pulled into the circular driveway of his parent's house. His parents had never moved, despite their wealth. Instead, they had bought the land around them, built a guesthouse, then expanded and remodeled the original house. The once gravel-covered drive was paved with hexagonal stones now and a large fountain burbled in the center of the circle. The garage that Jake had converted into a gym had been replaced by a six-car version with an attached workout area and sauna. Helen had added a third story to the original structure that housed a large bedroom suite for Joseph and two guest suites. The second floor still housed the master bedroom. Jake's old room was combined with the adjoining guestroom to make a bedroom suite for Julia.
Inside the house, a somber Joseph greeted Jake and walked with him into the family room.
"Mom is taking this pretty well, Jake. She knew it was coming. She asked that you go upstairs to her room as soon as you arrived," Joseph said.
"Sure, Joe, I'll head up in a minute. How are you and Julie holding up?"
"Dad had us sort of prepared for this also, but I still can't imagine him gone. He was always here for us, no matter what; he was never too busy if we needed or wanted something."
Jake nodded. "He was about the finest man I've ever known."
Jake walked into the large remodeled kitchen while Debbie and Joe hugged. Erika, Tigger Thornton, and Erika's mother, Helga, were bustling around putting out snacks and deli trays that had been delivered minutes earlier. All three women dropped what they were doing and rushed to hug Jake.
"God, Jake, are we ever glad you are here. Your mom is upstairs, but first you and I have to talk," Tigger said.
Jake gave her a quizzical look as she took his hand and led him into the dining room. She sat him down at the table and handed him an envelope.
"About nine months ago, your father came to me and asked if I would help him put his affairs in order. His doctor had told him the day before that without a heart transplant, he had six months to a year to live. Charles refused to consider a transplant; he said that some person with their life before them was a better candidate than he. I was sad because of his situation but honored that he came to me.
"It did not take much work to arrange things. Your father was an incredibly organized and efficient man. Mostly I worked out a plan that would protect your mother from anyone trying to get their hands on the business. Your father left everything to your mother with a stipulation that Turner Furniture stay in the family. It's ironic that you don't think much about money, yet you belong to two of the wealthiest families in America."
Jake shrugged then tapped the envelope on the table.
"What's in here?"
"I don't know, Charles said to give it to you immediately after he died."
Jake nodded and pulled up the lightly glued flap. Inside was a single page, hand written in his father's distinctive flowing script. Jake unfolded the paper and started to read.
Jake,
It is eerie writing you this letter knowing you will read it after I'm dead. The idea seems so impersonal to me, but it's necessary to cover the legal bases. Jake, I've named you executor of my estate and I want you to also handle the arrangements for my internment. I know it's a lot to put on you. However, you are the person I trust most to see to things. Marissa Thornton has all the particulars; she needs only a copy of this letter to release them to you.
Jake, I have complete faith and trust in you; I know that you will be there for your mother, sisters and brother. I love you son.
Dad
Jake sat at the table staring at the letter for a few minutes while Tigger stood beside him with her hand on his shoulder. Jake folded the letter and handed it back to Tigger. For the second time in his life, he had received a posthumous letter from a person close to him, first Liz Moran and now Charles.
"When you're ready we can go over Charles' internment wishes, but right now your mother is waiting," Tigger said.
Jake stood, kissed her on the cheek and headed upstairs. Jake found everyone gather in Julia's room. Julie still had the king sized bed that Jake put in the room twenty years ago. His mother, all three of his sisters, his cousin Mary Murphy, Mikayla and Melissa were sitting on the bed talking quietly. Jake knelt down next to the bed and wrapped his arms around his mother. Helen laid her head on his shoulder with a small sigh.
"He just slipped away, Jacob. It was so like Charles to go without a fuss. He loved us all so much. Father O'Donovan said Charles was surely in heaven even if someone had to get kicked out to make room for him."
Jake nodded, his voice once again failing him. Helen leaned back and gave him a gentle smile as she thumbed a tear off his cheek. Jake stood up and hugged his sisters and cousin. He sat on the bed next to Melissa and Mikayla. Mikayla was leaning against Melissa, her eyes red from crying. Jake enfolded them both in his arms. Mikayla was the person most unprepared for Charles' death. She had been very close to her Papa.
Jake sat on the bed a joined the conversation as they reminisced about his dad. They remembered fondly his frustrated antics on the golf course and the joy he found in puttering around on his big sailboat. Everyone had a sweet story about his kindness or the wise advice he dispensed. Joseph and Jake Junior came up and joined them with stories of their own. Even in death, Charles was working to make his family closer.
And so it went. Jake complied with Charles' wishes and arranged for a Military Funeral. A funeral detail was provided by the Naval Training Center in Orlando, and a bugler was sent down from the Navy Band in Portsmouth, Virginia. A simple memorial service was held at Sacred Heart, the family's church. Charles was interred in a plot that he and Helen had purchased years earlier. As solemn as the whole affair was, Jake could not repress a smile as he looked down at his Father in his casket. Charles had requested that he be buried in the tuxedo that Helen had made him buy twenty years earlier to wear to his daughter Deborah's coming out party at the country club. Jake remembered as if it had been yesterday Charles' complaint that the only way he would ever get enough use of the tuxedo to justify the expense was if he was buried in it.
Two days after the funeral, Jake met again with Tigger Thornton to perform his duties as executor of Charles' estate. Jake's duties did not involve much more than checking documentation to insure Charles' wishes were being carried out. Jake was stunned by the size of the estate. Charles had set up a trust fund for each of his children and grandchildren for twenty-five million dollars, had bequeathed over fifty million to charity, and still left Helen with almost a quarter billion dollars. In addition, Helen owned one hundred percent of Turner Furniture Super Stores, five hundred stores in thirty states worth at least a billion dollars. Charles had parlayed the ideas discussed at the dining room table in 1971 into the largest furniture and appliance retailer in the nation.
Ten days after Charles Turner's death, the front-page headline of a notorious scandal-rag named 'The National Inquisitor' read: "Harem Scarum! America's Sweetheart's Sad Secret." Beneath the banner headline was a picture of a pensive looking Melissa and one of a laughing Jake with his hand on Erika's arm. Tanya Nobles snatched a copy of the paper off the checkout counter rack and stuck it in with her groceries.
Tanya handed the paper to Melissa as soon as she walked into the house. Melissa was a favorite subject of this particular paper, but until now, all the stories had been flattering pieces and fashion photos. Melissa quickly scanned the front page then proceeded where it continued on page four. Pages four had a picture of a teenaged Jake surrounded by women. Tigger was in the picture, along with Erika, Hope and Faith, Nina Mallory, Claudia Murphy, Debbie Turner, Gail Martin and herself. Melissa remembered the picture well; it was taken at the Air Erica hanger when they had all completed the classroom portion of flight training. The face of each woman was circled and a line connected the circle with a more recent picture of the woman with Jake.
Melissa started reading the article:
'The Inquisitor has learned that all may not be well in the supposedly happy home of America's Sweetheart, Melissa Thornton-Turner. A former employee and other sources have told us that baseball-star-turned-Congressman, Jake Turner, has an eye for the ladies. A fact that he flaunts in front of his wife judging from pictures and interviews we obtained... '
There was more but Melissa had seen enough. With a snort of disgust, she tossed the paper onto the coffee table. She did not know who the other sources might be but was certain the former employee was Joe Bunnell, the greasy little weasel she fire for groping Louisa Diaz.
Joe Bunnell had indeed been the source of the story and had provided the photograph. Joe chose the Inquisitor because the gossip rag's headquarters was close by in Ft. Lauderdale. Joe sold the story for ten thousand dollars and received another five grand for the photograph; Joe figured the money was as well earned as the revenge he was getting.
Melissa picked up the phone and called Sven Johansson. If anyone knew how to react to this mess, it would be Sven. After Melissa outlined the gist of the article, Sven said he would call her back as soon as he picked up a copy of the paper. Sven suggested she call Erika and the other women so they were not ambushed by reporters. Melissa agreed, broke the connection, and started calling the women in the picture. The other women were as mad as Melissa was about Bunnell's allegations, but none came even close to Tigger Thornton's anger. Tigger was pissed at Bunnell, however, she was furious at the insensitivity of the tabloid for publishing the story so close to Charles Turner's funeral.
Tigger was not a person to trifle with; she hung up the phone and buzzed her secretary. In fewer than five minutes, she was talking to the corporate council for the National Inquisitor. The attorney to whom Tigger spoke was an expert at handling irate callers; working for the Inquisitor guaranteed he received at least one or two a week.
--Roberto Colon had also been chewed out before, but nothing in his past had prepared him for the upbraiding he received from the woman on the phone. She lit into him for five minutes, switching to Spanish when English was not colorful enough. The scary thing about the one-sided conversation was that the woman claimed to be a lawyer representing two extremely wealthy families. Families, she stated, who were willing to spend all the money it took to punish his firm's client for the timing and content of the story. Roberto Colon hung up the phone and absent-mindedly rubbed his ear, surprised there were not teeth marks on it. Damn, that woman could raise hell. He pitied her husband if she was married.
Billy Clyde Drexel had gotten the hell out of town when the sad hoopla started after Charles' death. The death of a parent was one thing Billy Clyde was not adept at handling. Billy Clyde, like Bernard, had taken the death of their mother hard. Billy Clyde sought refuge in Georgia, up on Piney Mountain.
Darla and her girls were ecstatic that Billy was home. Billy Clyde had the week of his life as he initiated Darla's youngest daughter into womanhood. Little Darlene was as hot as her sister, mother, or grandmother and tried her best to fuck him into ill heath. Billy Clyde would have stayed longer with his little hillbilly harem had it not been for the promise of Mikayla Turner's hot supple body waiting to be deflowered. Taking Darlene's cherry had wetted Billy's appetite and Mikayla was primed and ready to give hers up next.
Billy flew into Orlando, arriving at eleven in the morning on November eighteenth. He rode the tram in from the Delta concourse to the main terminal and made his way to the baggage claim area. He smiled when he saw Cheri Goldblatt waiting for him at the baggage carousel. Cheri saw him at the same time and ran into his arms. She had missed him terribly; he was the first person about whom she had ever felt that way. Billy disentangled himself from her grasp and looked her over. She held her chin up and basked in his gaze. She knew she looked good; she had spent hours preparing herself for him. She looked as if she were about fifteen, a very hot and sexy fifteen. Billy pulled her back into her arms and kissed her. Oblivious to the gawking throng milling around the carousel, she returned his kiss with passion.
They broke their lip-lock when a loud buzzer sounded and bags started tumbling out of a chute onto the rotating carousel. Billy placed Cheri in front of him as they waited for his bag to appear. Cheri pushed her small, miniskirted ass firmly against his groin and giggled happily when she felt his member start to harden. Billy leaned over and whispered in her ear as she subtly ground against him.
"Did you miss my big dick, little slut?" he asked.
Cheri whimpered as his words shot straight to her overheated little pussy. She nodded her head emphatically and twitched her ass tighter against him.
"Good, cause I plan on fucking you bow-legged." Billy said softly into her perfect little ear.
Cheri shivered with desire, bobbing her head up and down again. Then the spell was broken as Billy reached around her and plucked his suitcase off the carousel. He took her arm and led her out of the claims area toward the parking garage.
Cheri's sporty Mercedes was tucked into an end parking spot on the fifth level of the massive parking structure. She popped open the trunk so Billy could stow his bag. Billy tossed his bag into the luggage compartment then grabbed Cheri by the hand pulling her to the small space between the wall and the front of her car. He spun her around and pushed her upper body across the hood. Cheri moaned as a small anticipatory orgasm raced through her body. Billy flipped the hem of her skirt up over the small of her back and roughly yanked off her sexy blue silk panties. Cheri spread her feet apart, the musky scent of her arousal signaling her readiness. Billy unzipped and freed his rock hard shaft then without preamble sunk it into her hot slick channel in one violent thrust.
Cheri moaned again and grabbed the windshield wiper arms. She stared glassy-eyed at her reflection in the windshield as his forceful pummeling skyrocketed her towards a massive climax. Just when Cheri thought it could not get any better, Billy brought his open palm down sharply on her pristine white ass. The smack reverberated through the parking structure like a thunderclap. The slap took her over the edge and Cheri wailed out her pleasure as her orgasm hit her.
Cheri was still prostrate across the hood twitching with little demi-climaxes when Billy pulled out of her. She mewed in displeasure at the loss of his hardness inside her.
"That ought to hold your horny little ass till we get to my place," Billy said, as he stuffed his greasy tool back into his pants.
Cheri pushed herself off the hood of the car and tottered precariously on her unsteady legs.
"My place is closer," she said, her voice husky with desire.
During the short ride to her house, Cheri filled Billy in on her confrontation with her husband. Armed with video taped evidence and resolve she credited to Billy Clyde, Cheri told doctor Phillip Goldblatt how things were going to be. Cheri cut Billy Clyde a glance and giggled.
"I thought he was going to have a heart attack when I told him what was on those tapes. Since then, he does whatever I say. I told him I was entertaining someone tonight and for him to find a place to stay."
Cheri drove Billy Clyde back to his apartment in Deland at six the next morning. It was Monday and Bernard was expected back at work. Billy stood in the driveway and watched Cheri drive off. She had to be one of the hottest women he had ever met. He had been tempted to blow off work and continue Cheri's training but the lure of young Mikayla nixed the idea. Billy should have followed his first instinct. Cheri blew Billy a kiss as she headed down the street; she was the last person to ever see Billy Clyde Drexel.
Billy put on one of Bernard's suits and headed towards the Turner's ranch at eight-thirty in the Buick sedan. Billy had concluded that as soon as he did the deed with Miss Mikayla he was ditching this gig. He knew that Bernard's obsession would never bear fruit and Billy liked it much better up on Piney Mountain. Heck, he might even be able to talk Cheri into going home with him. Now that was a plan!
At the ranch Billy let Bernard loose to start the mind numbing number crunching that Bernard loved so much. At nine-thirty, Melissa came into Bernard's office and sat on the couch. Bernard's heart skipped a beat as he turned to look at her. She was a vision, although her expression was pensive and drawn. She handed him a newspaper she was holding and released a drawn out sigh.
"I don't know if you've seen this, Bernard, it is last week's edition of the National Inquisitor. The article about Jake could derail his campaign unless we neutralize it somehow. I might need you to drop your other projects and work on this, okay?"
Bernard took the paper with barely a glance at it.
"Sure, Melissa, anything for you," he said, his tone almost worshipful.
Melissa smiled, stood up, and put her hand on his cheek.
"You are a sweetheart, Bernard," she said. "I knew I could count on you to help me fix this."
Melissa turned and headed towards the door as Bernard basked in the afterglow of her touch.
"You can always count on me," he whispered to her retreating form.
Bernard's euphoria quickly turned to anger as he read the article. Yes, the article confirmed what he had suspected; Jake Turner was a bounder and not good enough for his wife. Billy Clyde felt Bernard's anger building and tried to assert control over the mind they shared. It was at this exact point that Bernard lost his tenuous hold on sanity. Bernard's anger flared white hot, a super nova of rage that he directed at Billy Clyde. The onslaught of hatred instantly vaporized every trace of Billy Clyde.
Bernard slumped down in his chair and shook his head to clear it. His rage suddenly replaced with a calm resolve.
"Good riddance to bad rubbish, Billy Clyde" he thought. "I'll take care of this myself, just as dear Melissa asked me to do."
Bernard walked to his bedroom and took a small valise down from the top shelf of his closet. He opened the valise on his bed and retrieved a black velvet bag. From the bag, he pulled a perfectly maintained antique .32 caliber Colt revolver. He thumbed open the cylinder, fished six bullets out of the velvet bag, and carefully loaded the pistol.
Bernard had no doubts about the rightness of what he was about to do. After all, this was the same pistol that his devoted mother had used to dispatch Bernard's abusive father thirty-five years ago. His mother had shot and killed his drunken father because he was hurting Bernard. Now it was Bernard's turn to do the same to the person hurting Melissa.
Bernard stuck the small revolver into his suit coat pocket, replaced the valise, straightened up his bed, and then walked out of his room toward his destiny.
Bernard reached the end of the east wing hallway then turned right towards the family room. Turner had been sitting on a couch in the large informal room with one of his concubines when Bernard arrived that morning. Bernard's grip tightened on the pistol in his pocket as he closed the distance between himself and his target. When he was less than twenty feet away, Jake looked up and saw him. With a snarl, Bernard jerked the pistol from his pocket and pointed it at Jake.
"You won't hurt her again, I won't allow it!" Kingston growled as he pulled the trigger.
Bernard flushed with satisfaction as Jake grunted and jerked sideways from the bullet's impact, then he fired again. A crimson spray burst from Jake's head as the second round caught him just above his left eyebrow. Bernard had to re-aim then because the light pistol had climbed from firing; he brought it back down and pulled the trigger again just as Gail Martin flung her body across Jake's. The third bullet hit Gail under her left clavicle; she felt a sharp sting but was surprised it did not hurt more. She gritted her teeth, steeling herself for the next bullet.
Debbie Turner was standing at the breakfast bar that separated the family room from the kitchen when Bernard burst into the room. She was facing the kitchen talking to Tonya Nobles when the first shot rang out. Debbie spun around just in time to see Bernard Kingston fire the second shot at her brother. Debbie grabbed her purse and frantically flipped open the flap that concealed her pistol. She had the gun out when Bernard fired his third shot. Debbie was bringing her weapon up quickly as an unworldly calm settled over her.
"KINGSTON!" she yelled sharply.
Bernard turned towards the sound of her voice, the pistol in his hand scribing an arc in her direction. He never completed his turn as the big colt roared. Bernard took a stumbling step backwards as the copper jacketed slug tore through his chest. He was looking down in amazement when the next round hit him squarely between the eyes.
"Call 911!" Debbie said urgently as she ran towards the couch.
Tonya picked up the phone and though terrified, managed to dial the number in one try, then she remembered the panic button next to the phone and pushed it as well.
Debbie detoured by Kingston to kick the pistol away from his apparently lifeless body before facing the couch. Her heart lurched when she saw Gail draped across Jake, both of them covered in blood. Then amazingly, Jake's right eye opened and after a few rapid blinks focused on her.
"Help Gail," he grunted.
"Take it easy bro an ambulance is on the way," Debbie said as she eased Gail to the side.
Melissa was in her office on the phone with Sven when she heard three muffled cracks. She held the phone away from her ear trying to catalogue the sound and its location when Debbie's colt boomed. Melissa knew instantly what she was hearing. She dropped the phone and rushed out of her office. The sight that met her when she hit the end of the hall caused her to momentarily sag against the wall. Then she gathered herself and ran to help Debbie.
Melissa arrived at the couch just as Debbie was gently pulling Gail off Jake. Jake saw his wife and tried to smile.
"Mm' okay," her husband slurred.
Melissa glanced toward Gail then and knew immediately that their old friend was definitely not okay. Gail's face was ashen and a slight froth of watery blood ringed her lips. Gail turned her head towards Jake and peace settled over her when she saw that he was alive. She had kept the second man she ever loved from suffering the fate of the first. Looking up at Melissa, a Mona Lisa smile curled the corners of her lips as she closed her eyes and drifted away.
Tonya was scurrying out of the kitchen with a first aid kit when her husband and one of the ranch hands burst through the front door armed with shotguns. Tonya quickly started filling Quincy in on what happened as they rushed into the family room. Quincy took in the casualties in the room with the practiced eye of a former Army medic. A cursory glance at the man on the floor eliminated Bernard as a potential patient. He checked Gail Martin for a pulse; finding none, her rolled her onto the floor and started CPR.
Quincy was certain that Gail was a lost cause but stubbornly persisted in administering CPR as he barked instructions to the women hovering over Jake. Tonya ran back to the kitchen for a wet towel and the ranch hand was dispatched to lead the paramedics to Quincy when they arrived. The ranch hand met Ramon Diaz and three heavily armed security guards as they were running up to the house. After a quick discussion, Ramon dispatched the security men to check the house for further threats and grimly took up guard on the front door.
Three minutes later, a sheriff's deputy roared into the driveway with his siren blaring. The deputy skidded to a stop in the curved driveway next to the frantically waving ranch hand sent to wait for him. The deputy warily exited his squad car with his weapon drawn; he recognized Ramon on the porch and called him over. Ramon set down the rifle he was carrying and joined the deputy. A brief, terse conversation led to Ramon calling the three security men on the radio. Ramon instructed the men to exit the house unarmed and join him and the deputy. The deputy entered the house still on guard, although he felt better knowing the tough, competent security men were backing him up. One glance at the carnage inside the house convinced the deputy that the situation was way over his head. He radioed his dispatcher and requested a supervisor and a rush on the paramedics.
The next thirty minutes were bedlam. The fire department paramedics arrived fewer than five minutes after the first deputy. One of them relieved Quincy Nobles trying to resuscitate Gail while his partner tended to Jake. Jake's wounds were not life threatening although he had lost a considerable amount of blood. The head wound, a two-inch gash across his forehead, had bled profusely, making the wound appear much worse than it was. The medic treating him started an IV, covered Jake with a blanket, and then assisted her partner with Gail.
When the first ambulance arrived, a hushed conversation went on between a paramedic from each crew. Then the crew from the ambulance and one of the fire department paramedics loaded Gail onto a gurney. Still performing CPR, they wheeled her to the ambulance and loaded her aboard. The ambulance departed with siren warbling, the other paramedic still with them.
Jake was lying on the couch with his feet elevated on the arm. Melissa was kneeling by his side holding his good hand as he fought to keep from passing out. The second ambulance and the patrol supervisor arrived at the ranch at the same time. While the paramedics were preparing Jake for transport, Debbie was surrendering her pistol to the deputies and filling them in on what happened. It was a story she repeated innumerable times that day, as the incident escalated in importance because Jake was a Member of Congress. The county sheriff was actually happy to pass the high profile case on to the FBI and Florida Division of Law Enforcement investigators.
Melissa called Erika at her office before she climbed into the ambulance with Jake. Erika was meeting them at the hospital after she called her father and Helen Turner. Erika also was calling Robert Martin, Gail's brother. Melissa decided that Robert should be the one to tell his elderly parents about Gail. No one would tell them Gail's status, but the grim visages of the medics spoke volumes.
The emergency room at Palmdale Memorial Hospital was small but it was well equipped and the staff was excellent. A trauma team met the ambulance at curbside.
"I'm Dr. Dribs, Mister Turner, how you doing?" asked the young doctor as he shined a light in Jake's left eye.
Jake responded to the doctor's inquiries as the trauma surgeon alternately examined him, asked him questions, and barked orders to the two nurses hustling alongside the gurney. Once in the treatment room, the nurses efficiently started carrying out Dr Dribs' earlier instructions even as the exam continued. In fewer than three minutes, the team had removed his clothes, drawn blood, and cleaned his wounds.
"Here's my plan, Jake - you don't mind me calling you Jake do you? I'm from New Jersey and I was a big fan of yours when you pitched for the Yankees. Anyway, while your blood is being typed and matched we'll take some x-rays of your shoulder then sew up that gash on your forehead. After we get some blood into you and your pressure elevates back toward normal, we'll see about the bullet still in your shoulder."
"You're the Doc," Jake said. "How's Gail Martin?"
Dribs shrugged noncommittally, "Not my patient. Keep him awake for me, Missus Turner, I gotta round up a plastic surgeon to stitch up your man's noggin."
Dribs bolted before Jake could press him further.
It took an hour and two pints of B positive whole blood to stabilize Jake for surgery. Melissa walked beside Jake holding his hand as he was wheeled to the Operating room. Jake gave her a goofy grin when she kissed him outside the OR door. Jake was sedated and feeling no pain.
When the OR doors swung shut behind Jake's gurney, Melissa slumped heavily against the wall. The tears she had been holding back rolled down her cheeks as heaving sobs racked her body. Beth Owens, the Turner family's personal physician, took one of Melissa's arms and Erika Johansson took the other. Together they gently steered Melissa to the doctors' lounge and sat her down. Doctor Owens went to the cooler to get Melissa water while Erika held her on the couch. Melissa drank the water and struggled to get herself back under control. This had been absolutely the worst day of her life and it was less than half over. She dreaded having to confirm to Jake that Gail had been pronounced dead on arrival.
Thirty minutes into Jake's surgery Beth Owens was paged over the hospital intercom. Beth called the ER desk as requested and told the duty nurse her location. A couple of minutes later Trish Wellington slipped into the lounge carrying a small suitcase. She had brought Melissa a change of clothes and some toiletries. Melissa clothes were crusted with Jake's dried blood. Melissa hugged Trish thanks and went into the bathroom adjacent the doctors' lounge to clean up and change.
Jake had been in surgery for forty-five minutes when Sean Murphy, the chief of security for Turner-Thornton led Jake Junior and Mikayla into the lounge. Melissa had called Sean after she called Trish. She wanted to make sure that her children heard about their father from her first. Mickey and JJ looked confused and scared when Melissa hugged them. Melissa took a calming breath before speaking.
"Your father was hurt this morning, nothing life threatening, but he's in surgery now."
"What happened?" asked JJ.
Melissa gave them an abbreviated version of events. JJ nodded his understanding, he was somber, saddened by the news about Gail Martin. She had always been a sweet and gentle woman. Mikayla's reaction was not what Melissa expected. She looked horrified but was too shocked to cry. Guiltily she wondered if the things she had done with Billy/Bernard had anything to do with his flipping out.
Jake's surgery lasted a little less than an hour. Doctor Dribs came into to the lounge and gave the family the news. The bullet had been easy to remove and there had been only a small amount of tissue damage. Jake was in a recovery room resting comfortably. He was groggy from the anesthesia but could have visitors as soon as the nurses finished their post-op routine.
Jake woke up at one-thirty in the afternoon; his head was clear for the first time since Bernard started shooting. He opened his eyes to the sight of his wife sitting by his chair. He squeezed the hand she was holding.
"Hi Muffy," he said.
A gigantic smile replaced Melissa's pensive frown.
"Hi yourself," she said. "How do you feel?"
"Not bad at all," he replied, "when can I go home?"
Melissa told him that if his temperature was normal at six that evening they would unhook him from the IVs and put him in a regular room. If his temperature was still normal in the morning, he would be discharged.
Jake nodded, "Gail?"
Melissa's smile disappeared.
"She didn't make it, Honey."
Jake had suspected as much. He knew enough about combat wounds to realize that Quincy Nobles' frantic efforts at CPR were a last gasp attempt. The thought of Gail being gone was one he could not get his mind to comprehend so he switched to another train of thought.
"How is Debbie doing?"
"She's fine, in fact she is out in the waiting room with everyone else waiting to see you. Are you ready to start seeing them?"
"Sure, but I need to pee first, my teeth are floating."
Melissa laughed and pushed the nurses call button.