Extracted - Chapter 14 – Like Sheep to the Slaughter

 

Extracted

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 14 – Like Sheep to the Slaughter

 

The Deputy Director of the FBI looked around the table.  He and a number of other people had flown into New York earlier that morning, just to handle this problem.  “How soon can we get these assessments underway?” he asked.

“I would think, fairly quickly,” Rosenberg’s boss replied.

“Sir!” Agent Rosenberg said.  “It might be easier to get them all together in one place to do it.  That would save a lot of time.  We already know we’re going to need to do that anyway, why not now?”

“Okay,” the Deputy Director agreed.  “Whatever can get it done the fastest.  This is national security we’re talking about.  We can’t mess around.  Can we bring them all here?”

“We probably could,” Rosenberg’s boss told him, but for security purposes, it might be better to do it somewhere else.  We don’t need to have a congressman bringing his entire family here to Twenty-Six Fed.  Add one of the more important district attorney’s in the country into the mix, and that could bring up a lot of questions.”

The Deputy Director nodded.  “I agree.  Good thinking.  Where do you suggest?”

“I don’t know yet,” Rosenberg’s boss admitted.  “Maybe someplace midway between here and there.”

“I suggest somewhere in the mountains,” Rosenberg threw out.  “Less news people and it’ll be easier to hide who’s there.  And if he’s seen, who would question the congressman taking a few days off for a break in the mountains?”

“Do you know a place?” the Deputy Director asked.

“We can have our people find one pretty quickly,” Rosenberg suggested.

“Okay.  But make it fast.  And maybe see if you can book as much of the hotel as possible.  Keep as many people away from this thing as we can.”

“More than likely,” Rosenberg told him, “most people wouldn’t recognize Congressman Stiller by sight anyway.  And even fewer would recognize Marsh.”

The Deputy Director shook his head.  “Stiller’s been in the news too much over the last few years.  He’ll be recognized.  I like the out of the way place idea.  Someplace secluded.  And we’re talking about a congressman and a major D.A..  It’s going to need to be someplace nice, worthy of their status.  Find somewhere fast, and make it happen.  And make sure you keep me informed.”

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

 

Doctor Isabella Montcliff wasn’t exactly upset, but she wasn’t happy either.  Agent Rosenberg had just left her office, but she had left behind nothing but problems.  At least she had confirmed that Stephen Marsh actually did have the identity of Nancy Marsh living inside of him.  That was something that she had feared.  Now that she had confirmation that she had been correct, all her worst predictions seemed to be coming true.

And now the damn government was demanding that she clear her busy schedule for the next few days to attend some kind of meeting in the Catskills, and the only reason they wanted her there was so that the government knuckleheads could question her at length about the entire situation.  Except that Agent Rosenberg had requested that she drive to wherever it was with her early tomorrow morning so she could be there to help assess the place.  Whatever that was supposed to mean.  At least she was told she might get a chance to actually meet Stephen and talk to him one on one for a few minutes.

Rosenberg had also hinted that there was also a chance that she might have some insight into how they should handle both families meeting each other for the first time.  Although the agent had mentioned something about a one-minute phone call.  Why just one minute?  She couldn’t fathom that.

As much as she was anxious to meet and talk with everyone involved, especially the two kids, she was aware that this little meeting could be nothing but a big headache, especially if she had to talk with some government types who thought they knew everything, even though she was sure they didn’t.

A meeting between the families.  What problems might that bring up?  In truth, it wasn’t the families that worried her, it was the kids.  Stephen was supposed to be a big kid.  A senior in high school and a football player.  She had no doubt he was probably fairly strong.  If Nancy inside that big strong body saw her real body and got angry over the issue, what could happen to the real Stephen inside little Nancy’s body?  That could be a catastrophe waiting to happen.  Not only that, but the little girl currently inhabiting Stephen’s body was only twelve.  Plenty young enough to be unable to control her emotions and strike out, causing some major injuries.

And then there were the fathers.  Two men who held important positions.  It would be like pitting one alpha male against the other.  She needed to watch out for that as well.

She shook her head.  What were these government knuckleheads doing, trying to put these people together so soon?  It was all nothing but a disaster waiting to happen.

And if she was in the middle of it all, she herself could get hurt!

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

 

“When?” Michael Stiller exclaimed in disbelief.  “You want us to be there the day after tomorrow?  So soon?  I was supposed to go to Washington.”

“Sorry,” the Deputy Director of the FBI told him personally.  “We’ve got to get this done immediately.”

“Yeah,” Stiller agreed.  “As much as I hate to say it, this is too important, and not just because they’re our kids.  Where are we going?”

“I’m sorry.  I know you’re a congressman, but for security reasons I can’t say.  We’ll provide a driver and a car for you though, so you don’t have to worry.  All I can tell you about the place is that it’s someplace secluded, and I’m told quite nice.  It should be like a little vacation for you and your family.”

Congressman Stiller had no doubt that even though he was a congressman, he wasn’t going to have a choice in this.  “What time do we need to be ready?”

“I’m afraid that early would be best,” the Deputy Director told him.  “You, your wife, and your two daughters.  All of you.”

“Yeah.  Of course.  We’ll be ready.”

“Thank you congressman.”

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

 

“Who’s calling?” Henry Marsh asked his secretary who had run into his office interrupting things.

“The Deputy Director of the FBI himself!”

That information sent Marsh’s head spinning, even though he had a pretty good idea as to why he might be calling.  He looked at everyone in his office.  “Out!  All of you.  Out, now!  If this guy is calling me here, then it must be something important.  He picked up the phone and said, “Deputy Director?  Hold a second until my people can get out of here.”  A moment later, he said.  “Okay, I’m alone.  What can I do for you?”

“You can get you, your wife, and of course your son Stephen ready to travel someplace the day after tomorrow.  A car will be sent to pick you all up fairly early in the morning and take you there.”

“A car.  I’ve got my own car.  Why can’t I drive myself?”

“Not this time.  This time the FBI will be transporting you all.”

“My son was abducted.  How do I know this isn’t another attempt at something like that?”

“I assure you, it isn’t.  Your driver will have FBI credentials, as will all the agents who will be with you.”

“All the agents?”

“Yes.  A protection detail for you and your family.”

“And why are we going?”

“To give testimony.  All of you.  I’ve been told you should already have a pretty good idea as to why.”

“Yeah.  I’ve got an inkling.”  Another thought hit him.  “How about being able to see my real son?”

“That much I can assure you will happen,” the Deputy Director told him.

“In that case, we’ll be ready.”

“Good.  Since you’re concerned, would it help if I had Special Agent Rosenberg confirm all of this with you?”

“It wouldn’t hurt,” Marsh agreed.

“I’ll ask her to call you personally.”

“Good.  Um…where exactly are we going?”

“I can’t say.  I’m told it’s someplace very nice, that your family should enjoy.  As I told Congressman Stiller, you might think of it as a small vacation for you and your family.”

“A vacation?”

“Of sorts.  The testimony is the important thing here.”

“Maybe for you,” Marsh told him.  “I’ve got other things I’m interested in more.  Like my son!”

“Of course,” the Deputy Director replied.

“Day after tomorrow.”

“Yes.  Early that morning.”

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

 

Detective Nolan walked into the police station and headed for his desk.  He was stopped before he got there by his boss, the Chief of Detectives.

“Nolan!  Someone high up in the FBI has demanded that you attend some kind of meeting to testify on the Marsh case.”

“When?”

“It was supposed to be the day after tomorrow, but they called again just a few minutes ago and asked if you could go tomorrow morning instead.”

“Okay.  Go where?”

“The man refused to say.  Evidently it’s very hush-hush!  You’re supposed to call Agent Rosenberg for the details.”

Agent Rosenberg.  Yeah, he’d like to call her.  And he got the impression that she was interested in him too.  Was this her way of showing him how she could get away with things?  He hoped so.  It sounded like fun.  “Okay,” he told his boss.  “I’ll call her and take their little trip to…who knows where.”

“Good!”

With thoughts of Ellen Rosenberg on his mind, Detective Thomas Nolan turned around and headed back to his car.  He didn’t pull his cellphone from his pocket until he was alone.  He could have called from his desk upstairs, but he was hoping this little trip might be for more personal reasons than his boss upstairs knew.  A few button presses later, he said, “Ellen?  Tom Nolan.”

“Tom!  How are you?”

“A bit curious.”

“Sorry, I can’t tell you much right now,” she told him.  “I guess you got the word?”

“That I’m going somewhere tomorrow?”

“Yes.  The families aren’t coming until the day after, but they’re sending us as part of the advance team.  I’ll be taking Doctor Montcliff with me so we can rely on her insight for help setting this up.  We’ve got a lot to look over before then.  Not to mention, I just thought that since you need to talk to whoever shows up just like I do, that you might like to get there a little earlier for some…R&R.”

“When you put it that way,” Nolan replied.  “How can I refuse?”

“Good.  Try to get there early.  We should be there mid-morning sometime.  See you there.”

“See me where?”

“I’ll text you the directions.  And Tom, keep it all under your hat please.”

“Yeah, I got the word already.  Hush-hush.”

“Exactly.  See you there.”

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

 

The following morning, fifteen people, most of them FBI agents descended on the sumptuous resort in the Catskill mountains.  The people who weren’t FBI agents included Detective Nolan, Doctor Montcliff, and several experts in logistics who all had an open government checkbook and a lot of blank checks to pay for it all.

The moment they arrived, they went to work helping the resort to relocate all the guests who were either at the inn at that time, or who were scheduled to arrive there in the next few days, and send them all to other hotels, all at the government’s expense.  With the government suddenly funding their get-aways, very few people put up much of a fuss.  In hours, the entire mountainside resort belonged to the government alone for the next few days.

Doctor Montcliff somehow found herself at the forefront of many of the decisions as to what needed to be done.  Arrangements were made to send the Marsh family to one building in the resort and the Stiller family to an entirely different building as far away as possible.  The government personnel would be housed in rooms surrounding both families.  The rest of the resort was dedicated to the resort’s conference center.  Exactly what they needed for the events to play out over the next few days.

The one biggest thing that Doctor Montcliff kept stressing to everyone was protection for the family members, but not protection from anyone outside the conference.  She was far more concerned about the families being attacked by members of the opposite family.

Late in the afternoon one final crew of six people showed up.  Experts in surveillance.  They began outfitting every place needed with hidden cameras, microphones, and monitoring equipment.  The crew also wanted to bug the family rooms, but Doctor Montcliff put her foot down firmly enough to prevent it.  In her opinion, those families needed and deserved their privacy.  She only hoped somebody listened to her enough that they wouldn’t plant any listening devices or cameras without telling anyone.  She wouldn’t put it past them, especially since they were government people.

After a busy day, Ellen Rosenberg, Tom Nolan, and Isabelle Montcliff had a late dinner together in the resort dining room.  Dinner was first class all the way.  So was the entire resort.

After dinner, they each retired to their rooms to rest up for the day tomorrow when the families would arrive.  Thirty minutes later, Tom Nolan left his room and made his way to Ellen Rosenberg’s room.  She was waiting for him, a bottle of wine and two glasses were ready for them.  So was she, in her fanciest lingerie.

Tom Nolan didn’t leave her room until six the next morning.

Extracted - Chapter 13 – How Many Eggs Does It Take – Part 3 of 3

 

Extracted

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 13 – How Many Eggs Does It Take – Part 3 of 3

 

“This is Henry Marsh.  What can I do for you?”

“Henry Marsh?  This is Congressman Stiller.”

“Stiller!  Wait a minute.”  He looked up.  “Out!” he shouted to all the people in his office.  “Everyone out.  Now!”  He watched as they all hurried out.  “And close the door!”  A moment later, he was alone.  “Sorry,” he said into his phone.  “It gets busy here.”

“I’m sure it does.”

“What can I do for you?”

“I really just wanted to talk.  Nothing more.  Right now, I’d really like to pour you a drink and sit down with you to try and get to know you better.”

“Huh!” Henry replied.  “Tell you what, I’m opening my desk drawer right now and pulling out a bottle of Scotch.  Hang on a minute while I pour myself a drink.”

“In that case, I’ll do the same,” Mike Stiller told him.

The two men poured their respective drinks, and took a sip before sitting down at their desks to talk.

“What’s your take on this situation?” Stiller asked.

“Other than it being a huge mess?  Other than making me feel like my life has been ripped out of my body, leaving nothing but a huge hole?  I don’t know what to make of it.”

“Yeah.  Agreed,” Stiller replied.  “My daughters mean everything to me.  Now, for all intents and purposes, my youngest one is dead.  Murdered!  That…hurts.  And I don’t mind telling you that.”

“Murdered is exactly the right word,” Henry agreed.  “You’re a congressman though.  What do you think is going to happen?”

“Humph!  Need you ask?  The rest of the government is going to go crazy to get their claws into this thing in every way they can.”

“That sounds like…”

“Like shit!” Mike finished.

“Pretty much,” Henry agreed.  “I was hoping to keep this as quiet and easy for my family as I could.  I’ve suddenly got a stranger living in my house.  A stranger that looks like my son, but who isn’t.”

“And I’ve got the opposite right here.  My daughter, isn’t my daughter.  And we were going out of our way to keep this as quiet as possible too.  I’ve got to think about how this can affect the confidence the people have in me.  My enemies will go to any length to stop some of the things I’m working for in congress, not to mention possibly trying to get me out of office.”

“I hadn’t considered that for you,” Henry told him.  “But you’re right.  It is a problem.  I hope it won’t affect my position here.”

“We both may have to keep the optics of the situation in mind,” Mike told him.

“Yeah.  Thanks.  I’ll be doing that now.  Congressman, do you mind if I call you Mike?”

“Please do.  In this case, we’re just two fathers who are concerned about our families.  Nothing more.”

“That’s the way I see it,” Henry agreed.  “But as a father, you’re a man, and I’m a man, how is my Stephen coping up there.  No matter how I try, I can’t imagine how he’s feeling.  I can’t imagine his situation at all.  I’m just…beside myself.”

“Yeah.  I’m sure you are,” Mike replied.  “Henry, I’d like to say that your son is happy, but you already know that he’s not.  From everything I know, he was someone who loved sports, and he talks about football all the time.  He’s stuck now in a world that he doesn’t even understand.  I’m the only man in the house with three females, one of those females is now your son.  To be honest, I haven’t got a clue how to help him.  We don’t have a football in the house, and even if I buy one, he’s a girl now.  As I see it, he should be doing girl things.  Except, I already know he doesn’t have the least bit of interest in any of that stuff.”

“Yeah,” Henry agreed, realizing that everything Mike had said would be true.  Disappointing, but true.  “And I don’t know how to help your daughter.  Steve was…a big strong kid.  He played sports.  He had a bunch of friends, and they were always doing things.  He’s got his own car so he can go places.  Which reminds me, I need to get his car keys away from him…at least for now.”

“Might be a good idea.  Nancy wouldn’t have a clue as to how to drive.”

“Yeah.  In fact, when we’re done, I’m going to call my wife and have her go get them.  I don’t want her to take a chance and decide to try driving by herself.  It might be better to be on the safe side of that one.”

“Do it!  Nancy was a good girl.  Real good, and real bright, but…well, she’s a kid.  And I know from experience that you never know what one of them might get into their heads to try and do.  Especially when they’re bored.”

“Consider it done!” Henry assured him.

“Thanks.  Look.  Henry.  I don’t know if that’s somehow really my Nancy that you’ve got down there or not.  It just seems a bit too far-fetched for me.”

“Yeah,” Henry agreed.  “I feel the same.  I don’t know if you’ve got my Stephen, or if the Stephen I’ve got now really is your daughter…or…if they’re both really dead.”

“That’s the one that worries me the most,” Mike admitted.

“Me too, but at this point I don’t know what to do about it.  To be honest, I’m so desperate to hang onto the hope that Stephen really is alive, somewhere…somehow!  Even if it is in the body of a little girl.  I just want him to be okay.  Somehow.”

“My thoughts exactly.  Listen, Henry.  I don’t keep secrets form my wife…unless they involve my job.  I’m afraid I’ve got to deal with more than a few of those.”

“Me too in my job,” Henry agreed.

“Yeah.  But I’m not planning on telling Wanda about this call.  What you tell your wife is your business.  I really just wanted to touch base with you and at least start to get some kind of idea of who you are.  I mean, my daughter’s life is literally in your hands.”

“I understand.  Fully!” Henry replied.  “And I feel pretty much the same way.  But Mike,”

“Yeah?”

“I look forward to a day, soon I hope, when the two of us can sit down with these drinks, in person.”

“Yeah.  Me too.  Let’s try and make it happen.  Soon.”

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

 

“Mrs. Marsh?  This is Wanda Stiller.  Congressman Michael Stiller’s wife.”

“Wanda!  I know who you are.  We…almost talked last night.”

“Yes.  Since your Stephen tried to call you yesterday, I got his phone here and found the number that he called.  I hope you don’t mind.”

“Mind?  I’m so glad you called.  I was trying to figure out how I could get in touch with you.”

“Good.  Do you have time to chat right now?  If not, we can try again later.”

“No.  Now would be good.  Great really.  Steve is out moping on the back patio right now.”

“I really just wanted to talk to you,” Wanda told her.  “I thought that maybe we could keep this conversation between just us ladies.”

That sounded either suspicious or ominous to Agatha.  “Sure,” she agreed.  “Fine with me.  Steve may not need to be part of this anyway.”

“Yes.  As much as I really want to talk to him again, this time, I thought that maybe you and I should touch base for a bit.”

“As I said, it’s sounds good to me.  What did you have in mind?”

“You’re my daughter’s new mother,” Wanda said.  “As a mother, how do you feel she’s doing?”

“Something told me you’d want to know that.  I have the same concerns about my Stephen.  But to be honest, I’m not sure how your Nancy is.  Physically, she’s fine.  Perfectly fine.  It’s just that…mentally, I’m not sure how she’s coping.  And to tell the truth, if I were in her position I don’t think I’d be able to cope any better.  In fact, so far, she’s probably surviving this better than I would, so I’ve got to give her a lot of credit for that.  Mrs. Stiller, I think you’ve got a pretty brave little daughter there.  I just hope my Stephen is half as brave.”

“I think he is,” Wanda told her.  “In fact, I have no doubt he’s probably braver than my Nancy.  There’s no doubt he was a pretty tough kid.  His bigger problem I think is that all that toughness doesn’t really translate into the life of a twelve year old girl.”

“No.  It wouldn’t,” Agatha agreed.  “We got a surprise visit from Stephen’s football coach a little while ago,” Agatha told her.  “He came by just to see how he’s doing.  I’m afraid I needed some excuse for how Steve is behaving so I told him Steve has amnesia.  Total amnesia, and that he doesn’t remember anything at all about his entire life.”

“Oh!  That sounds like a great idea.  I’ll have to keep it in mind.  How did it work?”

“As far as I can tell, pretty good.  Except that the coach seems to think I should have some of Steve’s old friends from the team around to maybe help jog his memory, or at least try to cheer him up.  Sorry, but he is feeling rather lost right now.”

“I have no doubt,” Wanda replied.  “So are you?  Are you going to start bringing in some friends?”

“I don’t know.  Maybe later, but not right now.  Look, mentally my Stephen is a young girl.  I’m not sure how well he’s going to fit in with a bunch of rowdy high school football players.”

“Yeah.  That sounds frightening.  I’m not sure I would want to be in that position.”

“Have any problems come up on your end?” Agatha asked.

“Huh!  A few.  Nothing major.”

“Like what?”

“Last night I caught Nancy in the kitchen trying to make some eggs.”

“Stephen did that all the time.  He ate…quite a bit.”

“So I found out.  I had to explain that a sixty pound girl doesn’t need to eat half a dozen eggs at one time.  We had ice-cream together instead.  Oh, and he decided he likes chocolate better than he used to.”

“Hm!  A lot of women I know like chocolate,” Agatha noted.

“Nancy may become another one.  She’s young yet though.  Her tastes will change as she grows.  And speaking of growing…”

“Yes?”

“I had to sit down with him this morning and have that little talk.”

“Little talk?”

“About bras and periods.”

“Oh.  Goodness!  He would be about that age, wouldn’t he.”

“Yes.  Nancy has only had a few periods so far, and it was all fairly new to her as well.  But in my Nancy’s case, she’s had her sister living right across the hall all her life.  She pretty much knew what to expect.  This Nancy, your Stephen…well…”

“He didn’t have a clue,” Agatha finished for her.  “I’d like to laugh, but I can’t.”

“Yeah.  Oh, he knew some of it, but not the details.  I can tell you though that he knows a lot more now than he did before.”

“It won’t kill him,” Agatha told her.

“No.  And he could very well need to know all that fairly soon.”

“You mean she’s due?”

“Maybe.  As I said, Nancy just started having her periods.  She’s only had a few so far, which means they haven’t settled down into a predictable pattern yet.  Which means that it could happen today, tomorrow, or two months from now.  We simply don’t know.”

“Poor Stephen,” Agatha said.

“He’s stuck being a girl for now,” Wanda said.  “He’ll have to learn to deal with it like every woman in the world.”

“True.  Who knows.  Maybe he’ll learn something from it.”

“I’m sure he will.”

“Maybe this little talk between us was a good idea,” Agatha told her.

“Yeah.  And maybe we should do it again sometime.”

“Absolutely!”

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

 

Doctor Faucet rang the doorbell to the large house of Doctor Judith Rameriz outside of Philadelphia.  He had noted several other cars in the driveway, so he was guessing he wasn’t the first one here.  The door was opened by a woman he recognized from her picture on the internet.  “Doctor Rameriz?” he asked.

“Doctor Faucet,” Judith greeted him happily.  “Come in.  Come in.  Meet the…eccentrics.”

Faucet realized that eccentrics was probably what he should expect.  He was soon introduced to everyone.  They all seemed to be a congenial group and only first names were used.  They all sat around with drinks and talked or argued over their separate opinions on various aspects of what the souls, or ghosts as he thought of them, were capable of doing.  What traits they would most likely have.  Surprisingly, Faucet found the discussion to be the very thing he himself had always found to be the most interesting.  He joined in wholeheartedly, enjoying the give and take of all these learned people.  The only strange thing he found was that they mostly called ghosts, souls.  But then, wasn’t a soul the very definition of a ghost?  He really had no problem with that.

It was later in the evening, while one of them was arguing a particular point with him, when that person asked a strange question.  “But what if we could somehow capture someone’s soul?  What do you think might happen?”

He found himself feeling like he had been put on the spot, with everyone paying more attention than usual.  “Capture a soul?” he asked.  “I can’t even conceive of such a thing.”

The man waved his concern aside.  “But what if we could?  What traits do you think you might find in it?”

Sometimes the science minded people could put the simplest of questions in the most awkward way possible.  “You mean somehow hold the spirit captive just for the purpose of studying it?”

“Something like that,” the man confirmed.

“I don’t know,” Faucet replied.  “We all seem to agree that ghosts somehow carry the memory of their original person, if only to a very small extent.  We all would love to know how it’s possible since there’s no physical brain to hold that information.”

‘Yes, but most ghosts also retain the original shape and face of the person they used to be as well.  Even their clothes.  How do they do it?”

“As always, that’s the twenty-million dollar question,” Faucet replied.  “I simply have no idea, even though I’ve tried to figure out just that.  How do the spirits of the dearly departed, hold so much information…without a physical brain?   We may never really know.  Especially since, as you proposed, it would be impossible to really capture one to study it.”

And then one of the men in the group asked, “But what if it’s already been done?”

Extracted - Chapter 13 – How Many Eggs Does It Take – Part 2 of 3

 

Extracted

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 13 – How Many Eggs Does It Take – Part 2 of 3

 

At nine o’clock in the morning, Doctor Faucet was at his desk, waiting on his first patient.  He was remembering the phone conversation he had last night where he agreed to attend the meeting with the ghost hunters later tonight.  He had looked up some of the names on the list of group members, but that didn’t take long since they all popped up on the same website, listing them as the developers of some new fancy water treatment device.  How had they gone from water treatment to ghosts?  He couldn’t imagine.

His office door opened and the receptionist poked her head in.  “Doctor Faucet?  I think we’ve been invaded.  The FBI and police and…”  With that someone pulled her out of the way and a woman he had never seen entered.  She was immediately followed by a man.  After them came Mr. and Mrs. Marsh.

“I thought I had your son’s appointment listed for ten o’clock, not nine,” he told the two Marsh parents.

The woman who had come in first held up an ID.  “Special Agent Rosenberg,” she said.  “FBI.  And this is Detective Nolan with the Philadelphia police.  Sorry for the intrusion, but we don’t have time to wait.”

“What’s going on?” Faucet asked.

“According to Mrs. Marsh, you diagnosed her son Stephen as having multiple personality disorder.”

“Yes, that’s correct,” he replied, now looking at Mrs. Marsh.

“How sure are you of that diagnosis?”

“Very!” the doctor assured her.

“I need to know how you arrived at that conclusion.”

“There’s nothing else it can be,” the doctor explained.  “He has for some reason manifested a new personality on top of his original one, and so far the new personality is completely suppressing his true identity.”

“What if I told you there’s another person out there.  Someone who was kidnapped at the same time as Stephen, and with all other factors the same as well, except that this person seems to now have Stephen’s personality, and the personality that he is projecting is hers.”

Faucet shook his head.  “Impossible!  There’s something else going on there.  Stephen’s original personality is being suppressed.  Nothing more.  And the same has to be true with the other person you’re talking about.  With a bit of digging, I have no doubt that you’ll find the original personality buried in there, but I doubt you’ll find it until you find the traumatic event that triggered the new personality that is most likely trying to protect the original.”

Rosenberg looked a him for a moment then said, “Doctor Faucet, you’re an idiot!”  She turned to Nolan.  “Come on.  I don’t even want to talk with this guy.”  She led the way out.

Faucet looked to Mr. and Mrs. Marsh.  “Is my original patient still out there?”

“I hope not,” Henry Marsh told him.  “And we’re not here anymore either.  Come on Agatha.  We need to find a better doctor for Stephen.”

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

 

As she drove back towards New York, Rosenberg pulled out her phone and called her boss.  “Sir!  I just met briefly with Stephen Marsh’s psychiatrist, and after two minutes I walked out.  He’s firmly convinced that Stephen has a multiple personality disorder, even when I tried to explain that we had someone else out there who has matching symptoms and Stephen’s identity.  The Marsh’s were there at the time and have now dropped him as Stephen’s shrink.  They’re going to look for someone else now.”

“Okay,” her boss said.  “Listen Ellen, I got a number of calls from D.C. last night and this morning.  They decided that before they all panic, they want some of their own experts to look those kids over to see what kind of conclusions they can reach.  I can’t say that I blame them, and to be honest, it sounds like a very good idea.”

“Yeah, I agree,” Ellen told him.  “I’d rather this country didn’t go to war over something one psychiatrist came up with.”

“How long before you’re back?”

“Two hours,” Ellen told him.

“See me when you get here.  We’ll figure out what arrangements we have to make.”

“Right.  See you then,” Ellen replied.  She ended the call.  The government wanted to get more people involved, but in this case, it was to either confirm the situation or possibly, hopefully, come up with a better explanation.  At this point, Ellen really hoped there was something better.  Something a lot more reasonable!

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

 

Even though the girl sitting on the bed next to her wasn’t mentally her daughter, Wanda automatically reached out anyway and hugged her.  At least she could still do that much, as if her daughter wasn’t really gone.  No, she was only half gone.  But it was the most important half that was missing.

She had just finished having “the talk” with Nancy.  This was the second time she had been through it with Nancy, but this Nancy was a different Nancy, and it was obvious from the start that this Nancy was far less prepared for it than her real Nancy.  Yes, this Nancy knew some of the basics, but she would have expected her to know a lot more.  The old Nancy certainly had, but then the old Nancy had the advantage of having Emily in the room right across the hall all her life, and the two of them were very close.  Not so close anymore though.  In truth, Wanda couldn’t blame her older daughter at all.  It was what it was.  They were lucky to have this much of Nancy left.

To Wanda’s knowledge, Nancy had only had two legitimate periods so far, and they were still being somewhat erratic in when they occurred.  That would all change with time, most likely soon.  But at least this new Nancy had some idea now as to what to look for and what to do about it when her next period started, which could be anytime now, or another month away.  That was the problem with some girls at the start, there was no real schedule.  Her body would handle it when her body was ready.  Now, this new Nancy needed to be ready, just in case.

She got up from the bed and started for the door, then stopped.  There was something she had been considering ever since that phone call last night.  She stopped and turned back to Nancy.  “Where’s your phone?” she asked.

“Are you going to take it?”

“No.  Just…the next time you think about calling someone, can you let me know.  Please.  At least for now.”

“Yeah.  I can do that,” Nancy replied.

“Good.”  She looked around the room again, but still didn’t see the bright colored cellphone.  “Where did you hide it?”

“In my top drawer.”

“Oh.  Whatever.  I’m just not used to seeing it not on you.  Since you got it, you’ve been practically glued to it ever since.”

Nancy laughed.  “It’s so bright, how can anyone miss it?”

Wanda smiled and walked out.  She would get back to it later.

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

 

In his New York office, Congressman Stiller picked up his desk phone and punched the number to reach his secretary.  “I need you to find me a phone number please,” he told her.

“Who for?” she asked.

“The District Attorney for Philadelphia.  I believe his name is Henry Marsh.”

“No problem,” his secretary told him.  “I’ll let you know when he’s on the line.”

“No.  Just get me his number.  I’ll call him myself.”

“Just give me a few minutes,” she agreed.

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

 

Agatha Marsh was walking from one room in the house to another, when she heard the front doorbell ring.  She opened the door and got quite a shock.  “Coach Bradley!  What are you doing here?”

“Just checking on Steve,” Bradley replied.  “I was very sorry to hear that he won’t be at football camp this year.  The team was really depending on him.”

“Yeah.  We’re sorry too.”

“Can I see him?  At least see how he’s doing?”

“Um…coach,” Agatha said, searching for some way to explain things.  “Ever since Steve was abducted, he hasn’t exactly been himself.  That’s why we pulled him out of that camp.  And to be honest he very well may not be in school this year either.”

“Not in school?  And he’ll miss the entire season?”

“It’s starting to look like it,” she told him.  “We’re sorry, believe me.  Steve was really looking forward to it.”

The coach was obviously not happy.  Steve was one of his star players.  Can I still see him?  At least say hi?  Let him know I care.”

“Coach,” Agatha said.  “You can see him.  He’s not contagious, but seeing him won’t do you any good.  More than likely, he’s not going to know you at all.”

“What?”

“Since we got him back, Steve has lost every bit of memory of his entire life!  He doesn’t even know us or his own name, let alone any of his friends.  That’s why we’ve been keeping them all away.  We haven’t allowed any of them to see him.”

The coach was shocked.  “Amnesia?”

“Complete,” Agatha told him, now figuring that the amnesia line might be the best thing possible.  How else could they explain things?

Coach Bradley considered that.  “Can I still see him?  Mrs. Marsh, Steve is one of my favorites.  He may not remember me, but at least I can let him know that I care.  That the entire team cares.”

Agatha considered that, then stood back.  “Come in.  Let’s see if we can find him.”

She led the way through the house, checking the obvious places first, but she didn’t see him.  Going out the back door, she saw him sitting and staring at the backyard.  Normally, Steve would be out there doing something sports related, like throwing the basketball at the net.  But now he was just sitting on the brick wall that lined the patio.  “Stephen,” she called, then hurried ahead of Bradley.  She leaned down and whispered into Stephen’s ear.  “You’ve got a visitor.  Coach Bradley, your football coach.  I told him you’ve got amnesia and don’t remember your entire life.  Do you know what that is?”

“Yeah,” Steve replied.  “I think so.  It means I can’t remember things.”

“Okay.  Good.  Talk to him.  He cares about you.”

Steve turned around and saw the man who had come out to the patio.  He was an older man, going bald on the top of his head.

“Steve?” Bradley said, approaching the boy now.  “How are you?”

Steve shrugged.  “I’m here.”

The coach noticed a listlessness in Steve that he had never seen before.  Yeah, there was something wrong with him for sure.  “Do you remember me at all?”

Steve shook his head.  “Sorry, but I don’t.”

“I’m Coach Bradley, the high school football coach.  We…you’ve been on my team for the last three years.  This year would have been our fourth together.”

“They tell me I like football.  They say I like it a lot,” Steve replied.  “But I don’t remember anything about it.  In fact, to be honest, I couldn’t care less about it.  It really doesn’t interest me at all.”

That was troubling to the coach.  “What does interest you?”

“Trying to figure my life out!” Steve told him, the frustration in his voice evident.

‘Yeah, I guess that makes a lot of sense.  Steve, I just wanted to let you know that I’m thinking about you.  In fact, the entire team is thinking about you.  We’re all behind you Steve, for whatever you need.  You want something, just say the word.  Okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve replied.  “Thanks.”  In truth though, he really didn’t care.

“Okay,” Bradley said.  “Just remember.  If you ever need to talk, I’m always available.  Especially for you.  Got that?”

“Yeah.  Sure,” Steve replied.  “Thanks.”

“Okay,” the coach replied.  “Get well soon Steve.”

“Yeah.  I hope so,” Steve told him.

With a nod, Coach Bradley turned and left him.  He was very troubled.  That hadn’t seemed like Steve at all.  Total amnesia.  Yeah, something like that would be the only thing that could account for the way Steve was acting.  He couldn’t imagine not knowing anyone or anything.  He felt even worse for Steve the more he considered it.  A thought struck him as Stephen’s mother escorted him to the front door.  He stopped and turned to her.  “Mrs. Marsh,” he said.  “Maybe it would do him good if some of his friends came to see him.  He might not know them, but maybe they could help stimulate his memory a bit.  If nothing else, maybe they could give him something else to think about.  Distract him from his troubles somewhat.”

The idea struck a chord in Agatha.  “I’ll consider that,” she told him.  “It might be a good idea, but right now, I wouldn’t even know who to suggest that he should see, and…I’m not sure he’s ready for anything like that yet.”

Coach Bradley nodded.  “Of course.  Let me know though if you need anything.”

“I will,” Agatha agreed.  “Thank you for coming.  I’m sure Steve appreciates it.”

She let him out the door and then closed it again.  Would having a friend over help Stephen’s mood?  He was bored.  Very bored, and she understood that.  But in reality, Steve was a twelve year old girl.  Something about having a bunch of high school guys from the football team come over for a party didn’t sound like the best idea at all.  Still, how could she help him?  She didn’t have a clue.

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

 

Extracted - Chapter 13 – How Many Eggs Does It Take – Part 1 of 3

 

Extracted

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 13 – How Many Eggs Does It Take – Part 1 of 3

 

Special Agent Rosenberg had just gotten back to her hotel room when her cellphone rang.  She noticed that the call was from her boss back at the FBI building in New York.  She answered the call.  “Rosenberg.”

“Ellen,” her boss said.  “Have you had a chance to meet with the family yet?”

“I just came from there sir.”

“And?”

“And it looks like our worst fears are confirmed.  Stephen Marsh seems to have somehow picked up Nancy Stiller’s identity, and there is no sign of Stephen in his body at all.”

“Damn!  When you told me this afternoon what you discovered, I had no choice but to run it up the ladder.  I’ve had the brass from D.C. bugging me every twenty minutes ever since.  They’re not going to want to hear this.”

“Sorry sir, but it is what it is.  The problem is that I’m really not sure exactly what it is.”

“But do you still think that your earlier report was accurate, that we may be looking at a group somewhere with the capability of implanting someone else’s consciousness into other people, and possibly creating an army of killers?”

Rosenberg considered that for only a moment before saying.  “I’m afraid I do sir.  Now, more than ever.  As much as I hate to say it, it looks exactly like someone implanted Stephen Marsh’s identity and memories into Nancy Stiller, and then turned around and implanted Nancy Stiller into Stephen Marsh.  And sir, I’m not an expert, but it very well may have been done that way just to prove to us what they could do and that they’re not trying to fool us.”

“Damn!” her boss swore softly.  “Okay, I’ll pass the bad word onto D.C. right away.  Something tells me my phone is going to be keeping me awake all night.”

“Sorry about that sir.”

“Are you heading back now?”

“No.  I’m at my hotel.  I still want to talk to Stephen’s psychiatrist tomorrow.  Stephen actually had an appointment set up to see him again in the morning.  I’m going to be there, and Stephen’s mother and father both promised they’d be there as well.”

“Okay.  Good.  Keep on it, and let me know everything you find.  I don’t have to tell you Ellen, this looks bad.”

“It could be, sir,” Ellen agreed.

“See you tomorrow,” her boss replied before hanging up.

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

 

It was late, bedtime, when Wanda found Nancy in the kitchen.  “What are you doing?”

“Oh!” Nancy said, startled at being caught.  “I hope you don’t mind.  I couldn’t sleep, and sometimes when I can’t sleep, I go down and make myself something to eat.”

Wanda looked at the eggs she had put on the counter.  “Eggs?”

“I like eggs.  I’ll put them back.  Sorry.”

“No.  I didn’t know you can cook.”

“Not that well, but it’s good enough for me.  So you don’t mind?”

Wanda shook her head.  “Go right ahead.”

Nancy went back to looking around the kitchen.  “I can’t tell you how weird it is to not be able to reach everything in the kitchen.  Even the stove is too high, but I can manage.  I had no problem getting to anything before.”

“Huh!  I’m and adult and I can’t reach everything either,” Wanda told him.  “What are you looking for?”

“The pans.”

Wanda went over to one of the drawers, opened it, and pulled out a small frying pan.  “Here you go.”

Nancy looked at the pan.  “That’s kind of small.”

“Small?  How many eggs are you going to cook?”

“I don’t know.  I usually make five or six.”

“Six eggs at a time?”

“Yeah.  Of course.”

“How much did you weigh?”

“Around one ninety eight.”

Wanda was aghast.  “One ninety….  Nancy, the last time we weighed you, you were only sixty-one pounds, not two hundred.  Here, have a seat,” she told her daughter, motioning to the stools on the other side of the island counter.  She put the frying pan away, then grabbed the eggs and put them back into the refrigerator.  From the freezer she pulled out a tub of chocolate ice-cream.  She dished out two scoops into bowls for each of them, then she sat on the stool next to Nancy.

Nancy took the spoon and tried some of the ice-cream.  “Mm!”

“What’s wrong?” Wanda asked.

“Nothing.  This tastes good.”

“Good.  I’m glad.  Did your mother buy that brand of ice-cream?”

“Yeah.  I just don’t remember it tasting this good before.  And I liked chocolate, but it wasn’t exactly my favorite.  Now, I may have to rethink that.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Wanda told her.

“It’s weird,” Nancy said.  “Since I’ve been here, everything tastes…different.”

“Different?”

“Yeah.  Better.  Like it has more flavor or something.”

“Mm,” Wanda said.  “Maybe it’s because your taste buds are younger.  But I’m glad you’re at least enjoying it.”

“I am,” Nancy confirmed.  She ate for a minute in silence, then said, “I’m sorry I cried earlier.  I…couldn’t help it.”

“You’re sorry?  In case you didn’t notice, I was crying too.”

“Yeah but I’m not supposed to cry.  I don’t even remember the last time I cried.  I feel stupid for doing it.”

“Why?”

“Because…I do.”

“Nancy.  You’re not a two-hundred pound guy anymore.  You’re a twelve year old girl.”

“Not mentally!”

“Still, mentally or not, you’re physically a girl.  And girls, and women…heck, females in general, cry!  And sometimes we cry at the drop of a hat.  It’s what we do.  It’s who we are.  Embrace it and enjoy it.”

“How can you enjoy crying?”

“Oh brother,” Wanda muttered.  “It’s all about giving in to your emotions.  Women…females, are filled with emotion.  Something tells me you need to get used to that.  I can see no reason why men seem to think they shouldn’t cry.  It’s stupid, but that’s the way it is.  But women crave emotion, and crying is something we just do.  She poked Nancy with the handle of her spoon.  “And you dear are now female.  Live it…and love it.  Or at least try to.”

Nancy shook her head.  “How?”

“Try!”

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

 

In Philadelphia, Agatha climbed the stairs up to Stephen’s room.  His bedroom door was open, and he was sitting on his bed staring at nothing.  “You okay?” she asked.

Stephen looked at her for a moment before he replied.  “Yeah.  I just….  It was good to talk to my family again.  My…real family.  I’m sorry if that hurts you but…to me, they’re still my real family.  And I miss them.”

“I’m sure you do,” Agatha replied, going in and sitting on the bed with him.  It was difficult to remember that her large muscular son was now mentally a twelve-year old girl.  Seeing him crying like he had earlier had been distressing.  “How are you coping otherwise?”

“Coping?”

“Yes.  How are you managing.  I’m sure everything has got to be so different for you.”

“That’s an understatement,” Stephen replied.

“Any big problems that stand out?”

“More than I can deal with.”

“What things bother you the most?”

“Being bored.”

“Bored?”

“I’m not into football or any other sports, and that’s all I see around here is things that…the old Stephen used to play with.  He’s got a closet full of shoes with spikes on them and a bunch of sneakers, but even the sneakers are full of mud and dirt and there’s hardly any shoes that look nicer.  And don’t get me started on the rest of his clothes.”

Agatha was surprised.  “What’s wrong with his clothes?”

“They’re boring!  Like everything else.”

“They are?”

“Yeah.  He’s got a couple of suits in the closet, and I tried one of them on to see how I looked.  I didn’t know how to tie the tie so I had to take it off and just leave the top of my shirt unbuttoned.  I looked okay, but basically, all his suits are the same.  All his clothes are the same.  It’s all the same.”

“What do you want?”

“I want…color.  Fun.  Interest.  Style.  Change!”

“In case you haven’t noticed, you’re not a girl right now.”

“How could I not notice!”

“So you’ve been trying on clothes?”

“What else is there to do?  The only problem is, the only mirror in here is the one over the dresser and I can’t see my whole body.  It’s useless.”

“I take it you’ve got a bigger one where you come from?”

“Yeah.  Full length so I can see my outfits.”

“Stephen dear,” Agatha said, putting her hand on his shoulder.  “You’re still too much girl!”

“I’m all girl!  Or at least I was.”

“I’m sorry,” Agatha said as she put her arm around both shoulders and squeezed him to her.  “I’d fix it if I could.  I just don’t know how…yet.”

“Yeah.  I know.  It’s just…”

“Frustrating?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe!”

“Oh, I believe it,” Agatha replied.  “Don’t forget, we’ve got another session with that psychiatrist tomorrow morning, except I don’t know how much time that FBI agent is going to take up.”

“She’s going to be there?”

“Your Dad and me too,” she told him.

Stephen nodded.

“Can you tell me something?” Agatha asked.

“Why not?”

“Since that phone call, I’ve been kind of curious.  What does your mother do?”

“Mom?”

“Yes.  What’s she like?  What does she like to do?”

“Throw dinner parties.”

“Dinner parties.  I do quite a few of those myself.  Does your mother like to cook?”

Stephen shrugged.  “Sometimes, I guess.  For the parties though, we have a maid…Mattie.  But her sister Claire likes to cook, and she’s like really good at it.  Mom hires her to cook for most of her parties now so that she can spend her time on all the tiny details as she calls it.  She likes to fuss so much over that stuff.”

“I guess I would too if I had someone to do the cooking for me.  Maybe I should check with Teresa and see if she has a sister like your maid.”

Stephen shrugged again.  “Maybe.”  His eyes fell on his dresser.  He noticed something he had been dying to ask about.  “Mom,” he said.  “And I hope you don’t mind me calling you that.  I really don’t know what I’m supposed to call you.”

“Mom is perfect,” Agatha assured him.  “What is it?”

Stephen got up and picked up the keyring from the dresser.  “I’m supposed to be seventeen years old.  I’ve got a car and a driver’s license in my wallet.  Will you teach me to drive?”

Agatha was shocked.  “Oh hell no!” she replied quickly as she got up and grabbed the keys out of his hand.  “You’re not old enough yet!”

“But I’m seventeen!”

“Not mentally, you’re not.”

“Then when can I learn?”

“Not till you’re sixteen…at least!  If then!”

“Sixteen!  But that’s…years away.”

“Like it or not, you’ll just have to wait!”

She walked out of the room shaking her head.  “Driving!”

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

 

At the breakfast table the next morning, Wanda took one look at Nancy and was shocked.  “Nancy!”

“What?”

Wanda whispered, “Your nipples are showing through that shirt.  Why aren’t you wearing a bra?”

Her damn nipples again.  Nancy’s hands went to her chest and she rubbed her growing breasts vigorously.

“Nancy!  Stop that!”

“Why do they have to bother me so much?”

“Because they’re growing.  You know th…”  She stopped.  “Oh.  You don’t know that, do you?”

“That doesn’t mean they have to be such a nuisance,” Nancy complained.

Emily, sitting next to her snorted a laugh.  “Wait till they get bigger.”

“Which is what they’re doing right now,” Wanda told her.  “Now finish eating and go back to your room and put on a bra.  Then brush your hair…a full fifteen minutes this time and not a minute less!  Hear that young lady?  And don’t forget to throw it over your head and brush the underside like I showed you.  Fifteen minutes!”  She sighed loudly.  “And I guess I’ll be up after I clean up the breakfast dishes.  Something tells me that you and I are going to have to sit down and have a little talk today about becoming a woman.”

Emily sniggered a laugh, then got up.  “I’m not having that talk with her,” she called as she ran out laughing.

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---