Trapped In Life

Starting Over (Part 3) - Investigation

My time in the hospital seems to be dragging on. For some reason, the infection didn’t react to the antibiotics the way Dr. Reeves wanted it to. I was on my third day of IV antibiotics. They didn’t want me to go till they were sure the infection was going or gone.

While Dr. Reeves had kept his promise to keep the wolves at bay, he didn’t lower his guard again around me. There was no warmth like there had been for the brief moment that day. Which is why when he came in that afternoon, the apologetic look on his face worried me.

“Miss Dupre, how are you feeling currently? Any adverse effects to this new round? Extra tiredness? Headache?” he said with a look that seemed to beg me to say yes.

I tilted my head as I read his pleadings. I nodded slowly then forced a yawn from my body. I blinked my eyes to make them water a bit before I said “A little bit of a headache, but I’m really tired too.”

He nodded as he slipped in the doorway. He had obviously intended to have it close to keep whoever was behind him out. However just before the door closed, a hand stopped it. Dr. Reeves’ breath hitched, but the two who entered the door behind him miss it. I’m the only one who could see it. He frowned while looking at me with an apology.

“I’m sorry Dr. Reeves, but we really need to speak with her now. You can do your checks or whatever you need to do while we ask questions.”

My eyes moved over to the owner of the voice. He was in dress casuals with a dark brown jacket. His hands moved to retrieve a notebook and pen.  He was followed by another man,  Kaitlyn's…my eyes met his. They were almost electric green. I wasn't sure I’d ever seen eyes quite that color.  His hair was a rusty blond.  It was in a tousled mess on his head, not short but not really long either. He was easily six-foot, just like Dr. Reeves.

Dr. Reeves frowned then turned to look at him with a nod. He made the pretext of checking my eyes and pulse. “Miss Dupre, this is Detective Michael Deis and his partner, Detective Arthur Gentry. They are here to talk to you about what happened on the set which had you brought here.”

He was being very wordy in my opinion. Was he trying to give me the information I didn’t have? I turned my eyes back to them. “Detectives,” I said nodding to them. Detective Deis offered me his hand first, then Detective Gentry did. “I’m not sure I can help you much.”

Detective Gentry took a seat in the chair next to the bed. He was as tall if not a little taller than Detective Deis. His black hair was almost as messy as his partner's though it is not as long.  His light brown skin was darker than it probably would be if he didn’t spend time in the sun.  That was Los Angeles where even the police were sun worshipers.  His eyes were the green of olives which made me wonder if there was some Spanish or Italian in him. Neither detective looked like they ate too many donuts.

Dr. Reeves kept acting like he was checking my vitals or something while Detective Deis started saying “First off, while we do need information, I don’t want you to feel like you need to make anything up. If you don’t know, you don’t know.” His voice was calm and controlled. It was a deep, rich baritone. I was sure it would be expressive and full of emotion under the right circumstances.

I nodded while meeting Detective Deis' eyes. I still couldn’t believe their color. I faked another yawn then said “Well I don’t know if Dr. Reeves told you. I have sustained some memory loss from what happened.” Suddenly, I internally thought how much of an understatement that was.

He looked up at Dr. Reeves saying “Is this medically caused amnesia?”

Dr. Reeves nodded as he said “She took a severe blow to the frontal lobe. There is a hairline fracture in the skull it was so severe.  It was on the verge of a depression fracture.  The frontal lobe is where higher cognitive functions such as memory, emotions, impulse control, problem solving, social interaction, and motor functions are.”

Now I looked at him a bit frightened. There was a list of things that could be wrong with Kaitlyn’s brain which might make it harder for me to control her body. I silently hoped Death had a handle on this. It would be hard to do what I needed to do if her memories were not the only thing I didn’t have control of.

“Do you remember anything that happened?” Detective Gentry asked gently. His voice surprised me. It was smooth like butter and seductively deep like James Earl Jones. He even had James Earl Jones' accent.  To say I was shocked at the sound of his voice coming from a police detective would be a huge understatement.

“I wish I did,” I said looking from him to Detective Deis trying not to look shocked at his partner’s voice. Honestly, either one of them could voice the hell out of most of the leading men I knew ten years ago. Why were these guys police? “I’ve been told there was an accident. I was hit in the head by something with heavy glass in it. I had some of the glass in the deep wound on my head.  This is probably less than the two of you know. However, I can’t see two detectives being sent to interview me if it was an accident. So was it not an accident?”

There was a look between the two of them which told me I was right. My question was could I get them to tell me more. I knew from Death I died….or Kaitlyn died. Both of us died, but Kaitlyn was killed by what happened which had me here. I'm not stupid they don't call in the police without a reason.

“No, it wasn’t an accident,” Detective Deis said. “I am not able to give you anything more just in case you do remember something.”

Detective Gentry looked at Dr. Reeves saying “How much chance is there for her memory to return?”

Dr. Reeves finished the notes he was writing in my chart. He looked between the two detectives as he said “We really don’t know. She could get her memories back in a day, in a year, or never.”

I didn’t look at him but could hear the subtle disappointment as he said the last word. Was there something he wanted me to remember? I looked up at him realizing suddenly the position I was in. There were three gorgeous non-actors in the same room with me. All of them were focused on my reactions and my thoughts. Yet, none of them were trying to romance me. This was so wonderful.

Before I died, this was the rarest thing in the world. I was rarely not in the company of someone from the entertainment industry. When I wasn’t they were usually fawning over me like schoolboys trying to get into my bed. None of these men wanted that, well not that I could tell. I’d gotten pretty good at telling when that was the only thing on a man’s mind. At least women hid it better, most women.

All I could think was how lucky Kaitlyn was to have this freedom. I knew she probably didn’t want it. Still I had craved this type of respect from others. I pulled myself out of my thoughts to enjoy the discussion. However, there wasn’t really much of one going on.

Dr. Reeves was telling them he would let them know if there was any change in my memory or condition. The detectives were talking to him as if I wasn’t even in the room. How unique a feeling to be totally ignored. I was sitting right there in the bed, but the three men, very handsome and professional men, were talking as if I was not there. Perhaps I should be angry, but I wasn’t. I was relieved. I wasn’t sure why, but I was happy to just sit there and listen to them talk about me, well Kaitlyn, and say nothing.

“Kaitlyn, girl, you have no idea how lucky you were,” I thought to myself.