Faith (Rescue Me, A Contemporary Romance) (18 page)

He paused to give her the chance to respond. When she didn’t he went on to say,

“We simply do not have the faculties or the inclination to suppress this type of attention. We have to think of our other patients well being and we cannot jeopardize the work we’re doing here for one patient. I’m so sorry, but we have to respectfully ask you to remove Liam from our facility. I can recommend some fine facilities elsewhere. Perhaps you should consider a Center in Europe?”

He looked at her, obviously concerned at the reaction his request would generate from her, but his stiff body language and poker face expression conveyed his absolute conviction to the truth of his statement. Liam had to leave. It was clear that he would not be swayed.

“Help me understand what is making the paparazzi attention in Liam’s case different than other celebrity patients?” She asked, trying to stall for time.

Doctor Frederic Barnes sighed. He had been hoping that she would accept his request and start the paperwork to transfer Liam out of his Center, but if she wanted to continue to play this game, he would tell her the truth.

“We encourage our patients to be straightforward and truthful in all their communication. We find it helps them overcome the fear they have about their feelings or circumstances. I’m telling you this, because we practice what we preach here and I’m going to be very straightforward and honest with you know. I hope that is acceptable?”

He waited for her to nod before continuing.

“You and your son and your mother were involved in what is arguably the most shocking crime of the 21
st
century. Rory Reynolds was one of the most recognizable and popular movie stars on the planet. He attempted to kill your son and your mother because in his mind they were standing between the two of you starting a relationship, is that correct?”

Again, he waited for her nod of assent before he continued.

“When his attempt to kill Liam, to remove him as an obstacle to your relationship, was thwarted by your mother, he then killed himself in a very violent display of affection, contrition, insecurity – choose your pathology—in front of you. In your kitchen. The four of you were the only witnesses to this horrifying event.”

She remained very still, just staring at him waiting for him to make his point. She didn’t need this pompous doctor rehashing the nightmare she’d lived through.

“I say all this Mrs. Byrne, because the press has been attempting to infiltrate our Center in disguises, by bribing employees, trying to contact other patients, all in an attempt to reach your son and take his photo, question him about the event, find out how he feels to be so hated that Rory Reynolds would want to kill him.”

He paused for breath and went on to the real issue.

“There has even been some talk of the press questioning his guilt or innocence in all of this. Many reporters have alluded to the fact that they believe he—or perhaps even you-- may have shot Rory, making this a murder and not a suicide. It has been suggested, and please keep in mind that we have no reason to believe that Liam is ignorant of this in spite of our attempts to shield him from this vicious talk, but it has been suggested quite publicly that Liam himself may have murdered Rory out of jealousy over his relationship with you. Even that he may have been responsible for your late husband’s death as well. They’re calling him the Oedipal Killer.”

She looked at him disgusted.

“How dare you stand there and recite fairy tales to me?” She said.

“The police cleared us of Rory’s death. The gunshot residue was on his hand. My mother had been shot and almost killed. I didn’t even touch him or the gun.”

She went on, “The press have been making up these angles to try and keep this story alive for lack of anything better to talk about. There’s no story here and it’s making them crazy. My lawyers have advised us to stay quiet and not even dignify them with a comment.”

“That’s all well and good Mrs. Byrne, and please understand that I am not in agreement with these tall tales. I know them to be fabrications, just as you do. My point in bringing them up is to convey to you that this story is taking on the tone and timbre of a witch hunt and the villagers are at our door with torches and pitchforks. Do you understand what I’m telling you?

He eyed her with a tone of finality and walked to the door to open it for her in an unmistakable gesture of ‘please leave.’

“The public does not want to believe that their favorite movie star killed himself over you. They want a villain Mrs. Byrne and they seem set on making Liam pay for Mr. Reynolds death.”

Flashing lights threatened to blind her as Faith stepped out of the cool, quiet confines of the Center and walked to her car.

Dr. Barnes was right, she thought, the press were everywhere and they were out for blood.

She didn’t know where they’d been when she’d arrived earlier, but they were out in full force now, and they’d caught her scent like a pack of dogs on a frightened fox.

“Faith over here!” “Faith look this way!” “Faith what do you say to the allegations that your son killed yo
ur husband and Rory because he’s in love with you?”

She ignored them all, tried to act like she had lost her hearing and she continued to push her way through the throngs of cameras and microphones so she could reach her trusty Element and drive away.

Finally, car in sight, she jumped in and locked the doors. Starting the car she inched forward, wishing it was acceptable to run anyone over who didn’t get out of her way. Unfortunately, she had to accelerate little by little and make them move at their own pace – an agonizing slow pace.

This was the last straw. She needed to do something drastic. Were they going to have to move again?

She’d promised Dr. Barnes that she would have Liam moved by tomorrow. That gave her only one day to come up with a new plan. Apparently, hoping the press would get tired of the non-story and move on to something newsworthy was not a plan that could stand the test of time. Her silence was only making things worse.

She drove back to the hotel that
Myra and she were staying in in downtown Nashville. They hadn’t been able to return to the little house in East Nashville since Rory’s suicide. The reporters and fans had been camped out there since the news hit the internet, and she didn’t want to see that place again anyway after what had happened.

Another house that she couldn’t go back to because someone died there because of her. She needed to be careful or she’d start believing what the papers were calling her – ‘The Black Widow.’ That is, the papers who weren’t calling her son ‘The Oedipal Killer,’ that was. They needed to make up her mind, she thought, was Rory’s death her fault or Liam’s?

What they couldn’t seem to accept was that Rory was the only one to blame. He was to blame, but he was also to be thanked, in a way, she thought as she let herself into the Presidential suite at the Four Seasons.

After all, it was the multi-million dollar settlement she got from his estate that was paying for this lavish, well-protected suite as well as for Liam’s medical care in the ever so expensive TJMH Center. It seems that when a very famous movie star kidnaps a little boy and an old lady, then tries to shoot them, before killing himself, all for an obsessive crush, the studio and his society mother are very anxious to resolve that scandal with as much money as necessary. It turned out that for Myra and Faith to ‘settle the matter out of court’ they needed millions. And that’s exactly what they got, 14.5 million to be exact.

It was pocket money to the billion dollar studio, and absolutely worth it to protect their investment. Rory’s films would make even more money now that he was dead, and the real story would never be told. All the press and public knew for sure was that he ‘died in a tragic gun accident.’

Of course the police new the truth, but since it was a suicide, there was nothing to prosecute. The four of them knew the truth, but Myra had agreed to stop listing the litany of crimes Rory had committed against them in exchange for the settlement. And the doctors at the Center knew the truth, since it was vital to Liam’s recovery that they understand the facts of the situation.

“How was he today Faith?” Myra asked, appearing at the door of her bedroom in the suite they shared.

“Liam was the same. But, his doctor told me they can’t keep treating him there. They’re blaming all the press attention. It’s getting worse, if you can believe it.” Faith told her glumly.

Without a word Myra walked over to her daughter and rubbed her back sympathetically. What could she say? They had reached a point in this situation that no longer had any possible words.

“We’ll just find a different place to help him,” Myra told her with her usual no nonsense attitude, “a better place!”

“The doctor suggested we might want to consider treatment centers in Europe!”

Faith couldn’t stand the thought of moving her fragile son to a place where nothing seemed familiar, not even the language.

“Maybe we should just bring him home?” Myra suggested carefully.

This was a subject that Myra and Faith had been politely arguing about for the last week. Myra took the position that they needed to find a permanent place to live and eventually the press attention would die down. Faith thought they needed to move to a new city and get a fresh start.

“I know where you stand on this Faith, but I’m going to point out—again—that the press are going to follow us wherever you go. There’s no place that will be safe from them. Nashville is our home. This is where you grew up and I’ve lived here my whole life. I won’t lose you and Liam, but I don’t want to be uprooted from my home because a lot of degenerate writers don’t have anything better to do than make up stories.”

Myra would not be swayed from her position. She knew they were in for a fight, but she had never backed off from a struggle, especially when she was the one standing on firm moral ground.

Faith looked at her and thought about the truth of her words. There was nowhere for them to go. Her stubborn mother was probably right. The best thing they could do was wait it out.

She thought of Liam talking animatedly to an invisible person and calling them ‘Emily.’

Would she be able to bring her son back to her by herself? Or was he lost to her forever?

And what about her own future? Was she willing to throw her life away and let the press call her ‘The Black Widow’ until she died alone or did she have the strength she wanted for her son?

It all came down to this: was she willing to fight to for her life and the life of her son?

“How do you think he’s settling in?” Faith asked Myra, trying to speak in a low voice so Liam wouldn’t hear them discussing him from his room.

Given the fact that his room was almost the entire top floor of their new – much larger – home, it was almost impossible to think he would hear the two women – or care if he did. It was hard to get him to care about anything these days.

Faith had thought he might be upset or confused at his abrupt departure from the TJMH Center three weeks ago, but he had barely registered the move. In fact, he had only looked her with dead eyes
when she had explained that she and Myra would be taking him home.

“Fine,” was all he said.

She wondered why he could talk to his invisible friend ‘Emily’ so animatedly and not find anything additional words to say to her or Myra.

“I think he’s trying to handle things in his own way and in his own time,” Myra answered. “You need to keep on track with what you’re trying to accomplish. That way when he does come back around, you’ll have a future ready and waiting for him.”

Faith nodded. She knew her mother was right. They had the settlement money and she was still taking marketing classes – although she had switched her coursework to online classes to keep clear of the paparazzi glare—but she wasn’t sure what to do to make the best use of the money she’d suddenly found herself in possession of.

As for Myra, she was settling in nicely. She had returned to her old church groups and was very much comforted by her friends and pastor there. It was a little more of a drive from their new address, but it was worth it she’d maintained to Faith when she asked about her ability to make the drive so often.

“Is he still talking to Emily? Myra asked gently.

Faith looked at her and nodded with a sigh.

They’d both overheard Liam talking to ‘Emily’ in his room. Their conversations sounded like the casual type of conversation between two school friends, not like rantings from a victim to an attacker.

“Do you think he’s trying to think of Emily as a harmless friend from school in order to make himself get beyond the accident that killed Mac?” Myra asked.

Not for the first time, Faith wished she’d decided to pursue a psychology degree instead of marketing. Maybe then she’d have a better idea how to care for her son. Certainly his therapists didn’t seem to be making much headway.

“Let him talk to her Mrs. Byrne,” they’d told her over and over. “It doesn’t seem to be hurting him and it may be giving him an outlet to help express some of the fear and guilt that’s been haunting him and leading to this breakdown.”