One Wife Too Many

By Katherine Jones

The Mitchells are seemingly the perfect couple, happy and in love. Harlan is a hospital administrator, and Shayla, his wife, is a successful real estate woman, heiress, and mother of their two grown sons. For twenty-some years, they lived the American dream, then Harlan sees the alluring Celia Green in the hospital and succumbs to her beauty. Th

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Mulberry Books
• Release date: Nov 21, 2019
• ISBN: 9781950850129

Katherine Jones

Katherine Jones was born in upstate New York and raised along Florida’s Gulf Coast where she currently resides. She graduated with her bachelor’s degree in communications and earned her master’s degree in speech pathology from the University of Central Florida in Orlando, Florida. Since high school and throughout her college academia, she has worked with grade school children in a variety of settings, including the public schools and the YMCA. Katherine currently practices speech therapy with the adult and the geriatric population in rehabilitation facilities and in their private homes. Her interests include writing, photography, running, music, and of course, the beach. She has traveled various states in the country, including Hawaii, as well as abroad, throughout England and the root of her ancestry, Italy. Often a subject matter of her photography, trees, she was inspired to write this book. Katherine would like to thank her mother and sisters for their unwavering support, to Viv Reugger, a phenomenal artist and altruist, and a special thanks to her closest friends, all of which brought this dream to a reality. God bless.

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One Wife Too Many

Copyright © 2019 by Katherine Jones.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher and author, except by reviewers, who may quote brief passages in a review.

This publication contains the opinions and ideas of its author. It is intended to provide helpful and informative material on the subjects addressed in the publication. The author and publisher specifically disclaim all responsibility for any liability, loss, or risk, personal or otherwise, which is incurred as a consequence, directly or indirectly, of the use and application of any of the contents of this book.

ISBN: 978-1-950850-13-6 [Paperback Edition]

978-1-950850-12-9 [eBook Edition]

Printed and bound in The United States of America.

Published by

The Mulberry Books, LLC.

8330 E Quincy Avenue,

Denver CO 80237

themulberrybooks.com

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Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

About the Author

Chapter 1

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Harlan rushes into the kitchen for a bite to eat and sees his wife, Shayla, sitting at the table eating cereal and reading the paper. Good morning, love. You’re up early. How’d you sleep last night?

Shayla says, Fine, and she continues reading.

Shayla is a princess, a real catch for Harlan—and much better than he deserves. Not only does she have a natural beauty, smooth olive skin, and curly black hair that frames her face like a picture, she’s smart, educated, and comes from money.

Shayla looks up at Harlan. Aren’t you a bit late getting up?

Harlan nods his head, sits down to a prepared breakfast, wolfs it down, and stands up to leave. He kisses Shayla on the back of her neck and whispers, Goodbye, honey, I’ve gotta go and dashes out of the house.

A half hour later, Harlan pulls into the parking lot, parks in his reserved space, gets out, pushes the clicker locking his car, and walks briskly toward the hospital entrance when he hears someone calling his name. He turns around and stops. It’s Nurse Betty Hawkins.

Good morning, Mr. Mitchell, how are you this fine day? Harlan says, I’m good. How about yourself?

Hawkins starts crying. Mr. Mitchell, I’ve had better days. My husband was in an accident last night and is over at Rosswood Hospital with a broken pelvis and some scrapes.

Harlan sympathizes. Sorry, my dear, hope he gets through the surgery and will be home soon. Keep me posted, and let me know if there is anything I can do.

They walk through the emergency entrance and each go in a different direction. Harlan is walking down the hall to his office when he looks out the window and sees the security guards and the city police escorting handcuffed orderly Ray Samuels to a squad car. He stands for a moment, watching, and when they drive away, he heads to the admitting office to inquire what’s going on with Samuels.

The secretary looks up sadly. Mr. Samuels is being arrested for robbing businesses in the area.

Harlan is shocked. What! You’ve gotta be kidding. Isn’t he the one who’s always seen sitting around with his head in the Bible reading?

The secretary smiles. He’s the one.

Harlan scratches his head. How was the Bible thumper caught?

The secretary says, "From what I was told, Samuels has been sneaking in and out of the building using the fire escape door during his lunch break, and Mr. Peters, a patient on the second floor, saw something strange he did yesterday and reported him. Peters said he has been watching him come and go for days, and like clockwork, he’d put a strip of tape over the lock so when he returns, he can slip back in the building without being seen.

"Peters says he thought nothing of it until yesterday when he saw him running across the lawn toward the fire escape door wearing a black ski mask. That got his attention, jarred his memory, and he remembers hearing something over the radio about petty thefts going on in the area during the lunch hour. He became suspicious, put on his call light, and when the nurse answered, he asked to speak to the supervisor, and when she came, he told her what he had seen.

Peters said he did not want to get Ray in trouble if he’s wrong. The supervisor assured him he would not get Samuels in trouble if what he saw turns out to be nothing. The supervisor immediately contacts hospital security and the police, and a sting is set up. And a couple of days later when Ray leaves the building, he is followed, photographed, and when he returns to the hospital fire escape door, he is busted and taken into custody. The police search him, find a ski mask and several hundred dollars in his satchel. Detectives spread out in the area and checked all the businesses that had been hit to see if anyone could identify Samuels, but none could because he was wearing a mask. All the business owners could agree on was that he was black and had a muscular build.

Harlan scratches his head. Ray seemed so religious and moral. Who woulda thunk it. Holy Ray’s the one committing the thefts. Thanks for the info, gotta go, being paged.

Harlan hurries to the psych department, unlocks the door, and walks into the nurses’ station. "Thank God you’re here. We need help. Troy Williams, one of our psych patients, jumps the fence and escapes when the nurses were returning patients to the holding area from the exercise yard. He bolts from the line, jumps over a five-foot fence, falls on the pavement, strikes his head against a metal post, gets up, and starts running down the street and doesn’t stop until he sees a transit bus coming. He leans against the fence waiting and primed to board the bus when all the passengers get off.

When the bus driver sees Troy through the mirror coming aboard with blood streaming from his head, he panics, jumps off the bus, and runs down the street with the passengers. When he comes to a market, he ducks in yelling, Call the police! A crazy man just boarded my bus!"

In the meantime, Troy looks around, and when he sees that the driver has gone, he climbs into the driver’s seat, takes on the brave passengers waiting, and when everyone has boarded the bus, he closes the door, puts the bus in gear, and drives on down the street picking up and dropping off riders. Being an ex-bus driver, Troy drives the bus like an old pro. He doesn’t stand out. He drives normal, maintains the correct speed, and stops at every bus stop to let people get on and off the bus. When the bus fills up and there is standing room only, Troy picks up the loudspeaker and announces that this is a Hollywood stunt and they are headed to Vegas, and when they arrive, each person will receive two thousand dollars in cash to gamble with and have fun.

The passengers are excited and don’t seem to mind they are riding with a driver bleeding from the head and wearing bloody hospital clothes. The only way the bus company and the police can locate the bus is to send up a helicopter to check the numbers on the top of each bus on that Sunset route until they locate the right bus. It takes the helicopter thirty minutes to locate the bus and send police cars to stop it, but Troy doesn’t stop because the passengers are talking, and he can’t hear the sirens or the loudspeakers, and seeing a trail of police cars following the bus doesn’t move him.

He and the passengers are happy campers having a ball, laughing, talking, and singing about the seventy bottles of beer on the wall. Troy pulls into a bus stop, and police cars stop in front of the bus, beside the bus, and behind the bus. They block him in, and police on foot swarm the bus and order Troy off.

He slides from behind the wheel, puts his hands over his head, and walks down the bus steps, smiling and waving. The passengers are ordered to stay seated. They watch the police handcuff Troy, put him into a squad car, and whisk him away. Another driver comes aboard and drives the passengers to the police station to give a statement, and each passenger questioned says basically the same thing. They were having fun and on their way to Vegas. Some of the riders said they were going along for the ride, and others thought they were participating in a Hollywood stunt and the driver was made up to look real. Troy is returned to the hospital, a doctor examines him, stitches up his head, and returns him to the psych ward where he is grounded and loses all of his outside privileges.

By nightfall, the excitement of the Troy escape from the hospital grounds has died down. Harlan and Dr. Berry meet in the cafeteria for a cup of coffee and a chat, but their visit is cut short when Harlan is paged to go to room 310 stat where there is a crisis brewing with another mental patient being moved. Harlan gets up to go and says to Dr. Berry, There must be a full moon tonight, seems all the crazies are starting to act out. The one I’m being paged about is being transferred to another mental facility. He doesn’t want to go, and he’s freaking out.

Harlan gets off the elevator on the third floor and walks to room 310. Outside the door, he sees several nurses, aides, and a code team standing in the hall across from the door of Juan Infante. Harlan asks a paramedic what’s the problem, and before he can say anything, there’s a loud sound like a chair being smashed against the door. Nurse Pam points to the door and says, The man inside is psychotic, dangerous, and nobody wants to approach him.

Harlan walks to the door, peeks through the little window hole in the door, and sees a thirty-year-old man walking around agitated. He’s a ticking time bomb, punching and kicking at imaginary foes, stopping only to glance at the door.

Harlan reads his medical report then looks through the hole in the door at the patient who is looking back at him. Their eyes lock, and the patient jumps back, picks up a bedside table, and throws it at the door. Harlan can relate to crazies because he’s a little crazy himself. He stands back from the door, thinking, then waves to the paramedics carrying the stretcher and the nurse there to give the injection, to move away from the door. He’s going in.

Harlan cracks the door, peeks inside, but quickly closes it when Infante picks up a bedpan and slings it toward him. It smashes against the wall. Harlan squats down, opens the door again, and quickly slides into the room and stays down. He sits on the floor with his back against the wall so he can calmly watch Infante should he throw objects at him. The patient throws several more things then gradually stops throwing stuff.

Infante walks to the far end of the room where he stands nervously fidgeting. Harlan keeps his distance and doesn’t try to go near him or talk to him; he just indirectly observes him while waiting for him to relax and sit on his bed. The patient looks down at Harlan on the floor. Harlan gives him a fleeting glance. He is working to build rapport and tries to send a message to the patient that he’s not a threat, and he’s not there to harm him.

The patient slowly relaxes, stops looking for things to throw, and if he finds something to throw, he is careful not to throw the object in Harlan’s direction. At the same time, Harlan is careful not to make any eye contact. After some time, the relationship improves, and Harlan speaks to Infante without looking at him, saying, Let’s talk.

Infante’s answer is short. About what!

Continuing to look at the floor, Harlan says, What’s your name, man? Infante grunts. Juan Infante.

Harlan looks around for something to use to build a bond and spots an empty cigarette container on the floor. He gets an idea, slowly scoots back to the door, cracks it open, and says, Does anybody have a fresh pack of cigarettes and a lighter?

A paramedic responds, Over here. He puts the pack of cigarettes and the lighter in Harlan’s outstretched hand. Harlan mouths, Thank you. All this takes place under Infante’s watchful eye.

The door is closed. Harlan scoots back to where he was, leans back against the wall, and slowly opens the pack. He shakes out a couple of cigarettes, holds the pack out, and motions for Infante to have one. Man, a cigarette will help you calm down. Infante studies Harlan for a moment then slowly moves close enough to take a cigarette, sticks it in his mouth, and waits for Harlan to flick on the lighter.

Harlan holds the lighter out, and Infante scoots close enough to light the cigarette then scoots away. Harlan watches as Infante takes a long draw and blows the smoke out slowly while eyeing him suspiciously, then he speaks, President Truman can’t get me, the FBI can’t get me, and you can’t get me. If you or anybody tries, you all are going to find out that I’m a mean mutter fucker, and if any of you get near me, I’ll kick all your asses.

Harlan bows his head and says, I understand. Infante signals for another cigarette. Harlan hands him another and lights it from afar while continuing to look down. Juan, tell me about you. All I know is that you came to the United States when you were a baby. Your parents worked in a laundry in Texas. You were in and out of school helping your parents earn a living, and when you turned eighteen, you went into the armed services. Correct?

Infante looks around and says, Right.

Harlan, careful not to make eye contact, asks what happened. The pack of cigarettes is on the floor near Infante. He pauses, slides off the bed, and helps himself to another one; he shakes one out of the pack, sticks it in his mouth, and waits for Harlan to pick up the lighter and flick it on. Harlan picks up the lighter, lights the cigarette, and watches Infante take a long drag and blow the smoke out between clenched teeth. The patient slowly walks to a chair and sits.

Harlan remains seated on the floor, sitting Indian fashion, waiting for Infante to speak. I fought with General Douglas MacArthur. I helped him liberate the Philippines. I fought in the Korean and Vietnam Wars, and now the president and the FBI are after me because I married a Russian spy. They killed her in an ambush, and now they are after me.

Harlan assures Infante he is safe as he tries to bring him back to reality. He cracks the door, asks the staff outside the room waiting in the hall to bring a pitcher of cold water and two glasses. Shortly, the water arrives, and Harlan fills the two glasses, offering one to Infante. Mr. Infante, have a drink of water, and can I call you by your first name, Juan?

The patient nods his head, and Harlan says, Juan is a man’s name and I like it. Let me tell you what’s going on. You are going to another facility this evening, one that is a safer place than here, and you will be out of the reach of the FBI and the president. But, Juan, I need to give you an injection to relax you. It won’t hurt. If you are ready, we can do it now. Do you need another cigarette?

Juan looks at Harlan and shakes his head. No! I am a man. Let’s do it. Harlan agrees and says, Damn right you’re a man. Let’s do it.

Harlan sticks his hand out the door and asks the nurse for the injection. He gets off the floor, goes over to Juan, gives him the injection, and continues to assure him that when the paramedics come in with a stretcher, not to worry because the FBI men will be looking for him somewhere else. Harlan assures Juan everyone in this hospital has been given strict orders to help him escape. Infante seems relieved.

Harlan cracks the door and waves to the paramedics. Infante appears worried and says, Are those people in the hall imposters waiting to take me away?

Harlan calms him with a touch and says, No, man! Those are the people that have been sent to protect you from the FBI. Each person out there has a role to play to ensure that you safely escape. Harlan takes out another cigarette, lights it, and hands it to Infante while continuing to assure him everything is going to be all right.

The patient holds Harlan’s hand tight and tells him how good it