NEW LIFE

Chapter Thirteen

"It's good of you to see me Dr. Bushere. I know this is short notice." She smiled, rehearsed, while she pulled a chair out and sat down cross-legged.

The lawyer didn't seem to notice the shortness of her skirt in comparison to her long legs. Not even the sleek white blouse, which seemed a touch too transparent in the office lights.

But the doctor did. He made a living dealing with mental games and manipulations, and knew she would be trouble the moment she strode into his office. It's funny how often people thought that around her.

"It's no problem Mrs. Sidler..."

"Please, call me Jamie." She smiled and watched the psychiatrist laugh a little before walking to the side counter to pour himself a drink.

"Jamie, what brings you to me this morning?" he dropped in a few pieces of ice with clinking chimes into the glass, then buried them with golden liquor. From the smell it was probably whiskey.

"I didn't know many doctors had an open bar in their office." A man after her own heart, she teased inwardly. "Not that I'm complaining."

"Nothing wrong with a little social drink once in a while. Now I doubt you've come for a check-up... so what brings you in?" He glanced back to her, eyes peering from over his semi-rimless glasses. He had a firm stare, a solid knowing look.

"I want to talk about Don Vaughen."

"That's nice, but I can't tell you anything." He chuckled as if this wasn't the first time people had asked him about things they shouldn't.

"Come now Bushere, we all know the confidentiality rules are Bull." She teased with him, taunted him. He sneered as he capped the bottle and set it aside.

"Doctor Bushere. Just because I work in the psyche practice now doesn't mean I lost my medical degree." He brought his glass up to his lips but stalled when he saw what the lawyer was holding.

"Fine. Dr. Bushere, you know what this is? 4,600 credits. It's all on this card, and all you have to do is say 'Yes Jamie, I'll tell you whatever you want to hear.'."

"What makes you think you can just buy me out?" his hand shook, just barely. The ice made the glass sweat.

4,600 credits. It was a fair bit of money.

"Everyone has their price Dr. Bushere. 4,600 credits. It's certainly a nicer payment then you're used to. You know what I need to hear." Credits were always valued. It would probably be enough to rent out whatever condo he was living in for a good 6 months. If not other things. However considering he had such stable income already it was going to need a bit more convincing.

"It's not my price. Now, get out of my office." Anger hissed into his voice like a drunken slur. "I'm sure Denise can show you the way out."

Cat and mouse. He hated this game.

"Now I would rethink that. I'm sure Vincent Lakiye would be terribly disappointed you didn't just tell me what I wanted to hear." The name demanded both of them pay closer attention to the little talk. She loved the way it made his hairs stand on end.

"Vincent Lakiye? That supposed to mean anything?"

"Don't play with me. Unlike some of your patients, I'm a bit harder to play mind games with." Jamie watched him closer, her hand still offering out the white and silver card. "Save yourself some trouble. Just take us up on the generous offer."

"Yes Jamie, I'll tell you what you want to know..." he stepped forward and snatched the card from her offered hand. His eyes were downcast, cheeks red with nerves. He downed another gulp of synthetic courage.

Vincent was someone you didn't cross. A mad shark at the business table, and worse in opposition. He was the last of a dying breed. Most would call him a mobster, if they had the guts.

"I thought you would. Now I need to know your opinion of Don." She crossed her legs again, shifting in the short skirt to make herself as comfortable as she could. As well as moving the small wires for the microphone.

"What can I tell you? He skipped off the last appointment to see me. Has done that off and on, normally they let him off the hook. The guy hit mid life late. What the hell would Vincent care about Don Vaughen?" He had his back to her, again refilling his glass. This time nearly overflowing it before tapping on the intercom. "Denise, cancel all my appointments for today."

"That is none of your concern. About Don, what's he like mentally?"

"He's intelligent. The man's a programming genius, he breathes it. He has degrees in science as well, biochemistry, nano technology. He threw most of it away for this toy business." He glanced back to the bar top, setting down a photo of his wife to face the black surface. He didn't want it to look him in the eyes at the moment. Every word slipping from his lips were hushed, coaxed.

Also part of him was afraid. Some people dealing with Vincent ended up losing everything. Their reputation, their business, their family, even sometimes their lives...

A sigh came to him as he leaned back and took another swig of the drink. "Mrs. Sidler, you may not understand this but for brilliant minds like Don, sometimes they need to challenge themselves with something more. Last time I saw him he was showing wear and... well boredom. He hated what they were doing to his ideas and creations. I assigned him a small vacation and sent him home."

"Take two pills and call you in the morning?" She tried to control the sarcasm in her voice, but it still managed to leak out. "Just let me know one thing. Is there anyway his mental capabilities could be called into question?"

"He can be a jerk sometimes, but he's capable as long as he doesn't push himself too far. Just like any of us I suppose."

"What would it take to get you to write up a report saying he is a danger to himself? That perhaps, he's just a touch too strained? That maybe he should seek some help..." her grin turned even more malicious. Those rock hard eyes showed determination like she was in the courtroom.

"Fuck that! What the fuck do you want me to do? Get him committed?" The glass shattered as he threw it at the wall. The burst in anger surprised her coming from a shrink. The intercom buzzed a second as Denise tried to get through, but he quickly countered by clicking the small machine off.

"Such language for a professional. If you must know it's simply an enticement for him to help himself. I'm sure you'll understand." She rose, pushing herself up and out of the comfortable chair with the ease of a cat. Long legs clicking heels on the ground as she walked up to the angry man. "Will you do it?"

"Do I have much of a choice?"

Her phone rang. It was traditional, and sharp. A business ring, which caused them both to shift a little. The shrink more then her. Carefully she removed the silver phone and eyed him closer. "Not really... This is Vincent on the phone. What do you want me to tell him?"

Dr. Bushere looked at her with wide eyes that didn't know if they should believe her or question. Wide eyes that glared frustrated at the tiny silver phone. "How do I know it's him."

She grinned, seemingly amused before flipping the phone open. "He's still deciding."

"Give him the phone."

She handed it over without another word, a brow arched as the man carefully took it, almost dropping it with a shaky hand. Jamie found it amusing how he seemed to sum up the last scraps of his courage.

"I don't know what you want from me..."

"You know exactly what we want. Mrs. Sidler has told you everything." the voice was calm, eerie.

"You can't just expect me to write up a healthy man! It could get me expelled from the medical practice!" the redness in his face got worse.

"I expect you to do as we ask. Or should we go and ask your wife Victoria for her decision on things? I urge you to take us up on our offer Bushere. I won't ask again." Click.