THE ROOSEVELT CONSPIRACY

by Matt James

  The comment made the former Delta operator grin. “And it only took five years.”

  14

  The house was quiet again. And with that silence, the trio of Jack, Bull, and Hawk settled in once more. But Jack couldn’t let go of the situation he had put the two cops in—one that he was solely responsible for. It didn’t matter how dirty they were. If something happened to them, he would never forgive himself.

  He offered to stay up and keep an eye on them, but he was quickly shot down.

  “No,” Bull quickly said, “we’ll handle it,” he nudged Hawk, “right?”

  Hawk stood at attention. “Yeah, we got this. No problem.” The younger man was still wired.

  “You take first watch,” Bull said, lying back down on the floor.

  “Sure,” Hawk replied. “I’ll take first watch.” He shooed Jack away. “Get some rest, big guy.”

  Jack was beat, but he didn’t know if Hawk could handle the important duty of not falling asleep. Staying awake wasn’t always easy. It really should’ve been him who stayed up. After all, it was he who cuffed the cops around the tree. But he was just too damn tired to put up much of a fight.

  “You sure you got this?” he asked, eyes heavy.

  Hawk pretended to be hurt. He put a hand on his chest. “How dare you!” He rolled his eyes. “Come on, dude. I got this. Plus, I have some work to do on the videos I took.”

  “What about the security footage?”

  Hawk shrugged. “Not sure how much I’ll be able to do without a halfway decent computer. I have a few tricks up my sleeve, though.”

  “What about Chaska’s computer?”

  Hawk laughed loudly. Everyone winced at the noise—even Hawk. He could’ve woken the old-timer. They all held their breath and listened. When he didn’t hear anything, Hawk continued. “Do you see a computer anywhere?”

  Jack looked around and saw that he was right. It didn’t look like Chaska owned one, or if he did, it wasn’t anywhere they could get to at the moment.

  Maybe in his room?

  “But are you sure you can—”

  Hawk pointed at the beat-up recliner. It was where Hawk had been sleeping. “Lay. Down. You may be tough, but you aren’t Superman. You gotta get some shuteye.”

  Jack’s weary mind begged for sleep. Knowing that he wasn’t going to win this fight, he finally relented and carefully lowered himself into the rickety old lounger, praying it didn’t collapse beneath his weight. When it didn’t, he kicked out the footrest and leaned back. He didn’t recall shutting his eyes.

  Zietz’s Home

  “Honey, come to bed. It’s late.”

  Meredith’s hand found Zietz’s shoulder. It took everything within him not to reflexively break it. He had never once laid a violent hand on his wife. Rarely did he ever bring his work—his rage—home with him. But he was so wound up that he had almost snapped at her touch. He took a deep breath and softly patted it, feeling the wedding band on her left ring finger.

  Zietz was seated on the couch with his iPad on his lap. His phone sat next to him, and it hadn’t rung or chimed in over an hour. Franklin should’ve checked in with him by now. Something had gone terribly wrong.

  Reilly.

  “You okay?” she asked, leaning in and kissing his cheek.

  He turned away from his tablet and looked up at her. “What if we had to move suddenly?”

  The strawberry blonde’s eyebrows rose. She knew nothing about Zietz’s professional life outside of the casino, though she suspected there were some less-than-ideal circumstances from time to time. Meredith never questioned him about it because his job brought in a lot of money. They were financially stable and had a substantial amount of savings.

  “Is it bad?” she asked, sitting next to him.

  The big man bit his lip, showing a rare sign of emotion. It was all Meredith needed to know that he was serious. She sat back and twirled her hair. If she were a poker player, it would be her tell.

  “I’m sorry.” He sighed. “Something has come up. Something—”

  “Big enough to uproot our family?”

  He nodded and sighed again. “Maybe.”

  “Can you fix it?” Meredith stood and stepped away.

  “I’m not sure.” He watched her leave the room but she stopped underneath the archway separating the living room from the hallway.

  She looked over her shoulder and met his gaze. Her eyes were like fire. Meredith’s fierceness matched that of her husband, though, she presented it in an entirely differently way. Meredith was a laser-focused, world-class athlete in both CrossFit and free climbing.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Fix it.”

  Chaska’s Home

  After four short hours, Bull was roused by a soft vibration. He had set his phone’s alarm after lying down. Like Jack, he didn’t need a lot of sleep to recharge. However, this wasn’t a typical day. Bull wished he could get more, but he had a job to do. He needed to relieve his exhausted nephew. Bull also needed to keep Jack asleep.

  Silently, he sat up. He felt his lower back pull at the effort. Bull was sore, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. Hawk was seated at the kitchen table, vigilantly tapping away at his oversized phone. Whatever he was doing, he was so lost in it that he didn’t see Bull step up next to him. When he did notice his uncle, he nearly fell out of his chair in fright.

  “Geez!”

  Bull almost laughed, but instead of embarrassing the young man even more, he pulled out the chair next to him and sat. If he wanted to, he could’ve laid down his head and been out cold in a matter of seconds.

  He pointed at Hawk’s phone. “What are you doing?”

  Hawk’s eyes were bloodshot, and his eyelids looked weighty. He cleared his throat and explained.

  “I’m scheduling videos with juicy descriptions to be released in the morning.” He checked the clock on the wall. “Well, later this morning, anyway. Regardless, they’ll be on every social media site I can think of. I’ve tagged various news and law enforcement—both local and federal—accounts too. Shit, I’m even sending this thing to the IRS for good measure!” He yawned. “By eight o’clock, everyone will know what’s been happening around here.”

  “Are these your personal accounts?” Bull asked. He had a faint knowledge of how the websites worked.

  “No. I created new ones and linked them to bogus emails.”

  Bull nodded, then frowned. “Smart thinking, but you know, you can’t stay in Cascade either way, right?”

  Now, it was Hawk’s turn to frown. “Yeah… I know.”

  “What about Nina?”

  “I’ll walk down that path when I need to.”

  Bull was impressed at his nephew’s resolve. He was willing to leave behind everything he knew so he could do what was right. It was as admirable a quality as a person could possess.

  “All of this won’t mean much,” Bull said, “not until we get Creed’s security camera footage uploaded. And not until we find what Roosevelt hid.”

  Hawk smiled.

  “What?” Bull asked.

  “Who said I didn’t upload the security footage?”

  “You did?”

  Hawk nodded. “As I said, I have a few tricks up my sleeve. It might not do a ton right away, but at least it’ll bring him some unwanted attention—Cascade PD too. The press will have a field day with a story like this.”

  Bull leaned back and crossed his arms. “So, your strategy is to annoy him?”

  “If it gets him off our backs, yes.”

  Bull had to hand it to him. Hawk’s plan might just work. Creed’s people, both at the casino and those inside the CPD, would have to step lightly once Hawk’s posts went live. They would both be under heavy scrutiny and need to watch themselves closely. They would no longer be able to operate out of the shadows, not unless they were comfortable with the inflated risk of getting caught doing something nasty.

  But did any of this matter?

  Bull hoped it did. Small towns
like Cascade rarely got the attention of the national media. Even if a mob-like boss was running Cascade, would anyone outside of the city limits give a damn?

  They will if we find what we’re looking for.

  The sound of bubbly percolation stirred Jack. The aroma of strong coffee tickled his senses, awakening him further. Even before he opened his eyes, he knew something was wrong. The sun showed through his eyelids. If the sun was shining, then it meant that he had been lied to.

  “Why didn’t you wake me up?” Jack kicked in his footrest and sat up. Turning, he looked into the kitchen and found Bull and Hawk standing around a small, black Mr. Coffee unit.

  Hawk spoke but didn’t face him. “You needed the sleep more than…” he yawned, “us.”

  “Not from the looks of it,” Jack said, standing and stretching.

  Before he joined them for what was sure to be a horrid cup of coffee, Jack looked out the front window and was happy to see that both Franklin and Sizemore had been unharmed during the night.

  “Anything interesting happen last night?” he asked, turning around.

  “Nope,” Hawk said, tapping the counter. “Come on…”

  “Really? Nothing at all?”

  Bull faced him. “All was quiet.”

  Jack scratched his head and winced. The movement hurt like hell. Oh yeah, he thought, got dragged by a truck.

  His fingers came away with a tiny stick. He must’ve picked it up from when he went rolling along the park lawn. Jack inspected it and looked at Bull. His partner smiled and returned his attention to the slowest coffee maker on planet Earth.

  “Come on, you piece of junk!” Hawk shouted, pounding the appliance with the base of his fist.

  “Easy, kid,” Jack said, stretching. He would need to loosen up if he was going to be useful. “Yelling only slows them down more.”

  Hawk looked at him with a raised eyebrow. It took him a second to realize that Jack was messing around.

  “Oh, you can go to hell!”

  “Yes, hell.”

  The trio spun to find the voice’s owner. Chaska was standing in the doorway to his bedroom, dressed in a tucked-in, long-sleeve button-down, jeans, cowboy boots, and a cowboy hat.

  “What did you say?” Hawk asked.

  “Hell,” Chaska repeated. “You are going to hell.”

  Hawk’s face paled.

  Jack stepped forward. “What do you mean?”

  Chaska smiled. “You seek the path that my grandfather and President Roosevelt took. You seek a portal to the underworld.”

  Jack knew that the word “underworld” could mean several different things depending on what part of the world you were in, and in what time frame you found yourself in. Within most faith systems, “hell” was interpreted as a terrible place. But in others, it only represented a supernatural location where the dead peacefully rested, not a realm of eternal torture and suffering.

  Jack tried and failed to rub the sleep from his face. “What a way to wake up.”

  Hawk poured four small cups of coffee and handed them out. Chaska thanked him in his people’s tongue.

  “Pilamaya.”

  “You’re welcome,” Hawk replied, nodding to his elder.

  Jack brought the mug to his face and sniffed. It smelled wonderful. He didn’t care how it tasted. All he needed was the caffeine. He took a careful sip, nearly choking as Chaska spoke up again.

  “Why are there two men handcuffed to one of my trees?”

  “Technically, they’re handcuffed to one another,” Hawk mumbled in between sips. His eyes flicked to Bull. Everyone besides the understandably confused Chaska laughed.

  Jack replied amidst a flurry of coughs. “It’s better if you don’t know.”

  15

  Jack and Bull decided to leave early that morning for Devils Tower. Bull casually descended the porch steps and lifted the garage door. He was forced to maneuver around Chaska’s lawn care equipment and a slew of antiquated knickknacks to reach the tailgate of his truck. Removing his license plate had been a smart move. He would put it back on as soon as he could. Bull opened the driver’s side door as much as he could and slipped inside. Slowly, he pulled forward and directed the vehicle around to the back of the property and picked up Jack. Everyone thought it would be a good idea to keep Jack’s identity a secret since he was the one who had attacked the policemen.

  Hawk was asked to stay behind and keep an eye on Chaska. He wasn’t so much as asked as forced to do it. He sat at the kitchen table while Chaska read yesterday’s paper. The man moved so slow that he was a day behind.

  Except for his driving. Hawk’s stomach lurched just from thinking about it.

  He checked the time on his phone for the tenth time. It was nearly eight o’clock. Hawk’s social media-bomb was about to go off, and he wanted to watch it live. He also wanted to check on Nina. He needed to talk to her, but he had given his word that he would look after Chaska.

  His eyes perked up. Maybe I can do both?

  “Hey, Chaska?”

  “Yes?” He looked up from the paper.

  “Wanna take a ride?”

  Chaska looked away from Hawk, and he eyed his wall clock. After watching six seconds tick away, he nodded and began his ascension to the standing position. He took too long. Hawk rushed over and nearly ripped the man’s arm off while helping him to his feet.

  “Woah!” Chaska gasped. “Easy there, young one.” He chuckled. “I’m not in my seventies anymore.”

  Chaska headed for the door, reaching for his keys. They were hanging on a hook by the front door. Hawk lunged for them and snagged them before their owner could.

  “I’ll drive.”

  They locked up and slowly made their way down the front steps. The murmurs of Franklin and Sizemore could just be heard. Like Bull, Hawk and Chaska paid them no attention. Hawk helped Chaska into the passenger seat and nearly closed the door on him. Chaska grumbled in protest.

  “Sorry.”

  Rushing around to the driver’s side, Hawk stopped and checked the time.

  Five more minutes.

  Hawk couldn’t help himself. He held up his phone and waggled it at the two cops. “You guys are about to be famous!” They stopped struggling and looked at him. Their anger vanished. Now, they looked terrified.

  Hawk slammed his door shut and rolled down his window. “Have fun finding another job, assholes!” Just for good measure, he gave them the finger and pulled away.

  Jack and Bull weren’t going to be happy with him. Hawk desperately needed to see Nina, though. Plus, he was technically still looking after Chaska. Besides nearly breaking the man’s arm and then closing the door on him, Hawk thought he was doing a fine job.

  They puttered along the two-lane road at thirty-five miles per hour. Unlike Chaska, Hawk adhered to the posted speed limits. Hawk had plenty of points left on his license too. It made him wonder how many Chaska had.

  If he has a license at all.

  He glanced down at the dashboard and saw that the time read “8:00.” He allowed himself the benefit of a smile. From here on out, they would be fine, or at least, he hoped they would be. The wildcard was Zietz. Hawk was confident the police would lay off, but would Bigfoot?

  The hair on his arms stood up. Hawk was nervous. He flicked on the radio and nearly ran the truck off the road at what he heard.

  “…three police officers were shot in cold blood last night. All three men were executed after their vehicle flipped inside Cascade Park. They had been in the middle of a high-speed pursuit when—”

  Hawk aggressively powered off the radio, earning a look of disdain from Chaska. He took a deep breath and realized something. Not all of the people within the CPD were dirty. He personally knew a couple of officers that were decent enough. The car that was involved was the one he currently drove. It meant that the good guys also had the plate number. He exhaled and prayed that Zietz had paid the right people off. If he did, then Zietz may have inadvertently protected them.

/>   It took Hawk and Chaska fifteen minutes to get back to town and another five to pull into the hospital parking lot. Cascade Municipal wasn’t very big, but the four-story facility was known for its extraordinary care and accommodating staff.

  “Why are we here?” Chaska asked, looking around. “Am I sick?”

  “No, this isn’t for you,” he looked up to the centermost third-floor window—Nina’s window, “this is for me.”

  He backed in, keeping the tailgate and license plate pressed up against a line of bushes.

  Chaska turned and faced him. “Are you sick?”

  Hawk winked. “Aren’t we all?”

  The old man sat there with his mouth hanging open. He didn’t understand what Hawk had meant.

  “It was just a joke.”

  Chaska shook his head fervently. His droopy cheeks slapped around. “You shouldn’t joke about such things.”

  Hawk rolled his eyes and killed the engine. He went to open his door but stopped. “Why don’t you stay here. I’ll only be a minute.”

  Chaska eyed the hospital again. “Hmmm, yes. Good idea. Don’t care much for those places, anyways.”

  “Why is that?” Hawk opened his door and climbed out.

  “Too much death here.” Chaska’s attention never left the hospital. “Too much death…”

  Unnerved, Hawk quickly made his way across the worn parking lot. He entered the warm structure and checked in at the front desk. Visitation had just started, and he was one of the first ones in. To his right, a wall-mounted television was tuned into the local news. Hawk had to hide his excitement at what he saw. His videos were being played.

  The one from the car chase was garnering the most attention. The lead car was the one that held the now dead policemen. Luckily for Hawk, neither Jack nor Bull had turned around. Their faces weren’t in any of the shots. The deceased cops were, though, and so were their guns. They were firing at Chaska’s truck the entire time. Even the news reporter questioned why they, un-uniformed cops in an unmarked vehicle, were trying to kill the people in the vehicle in question. And from what Hawk witnessed, you never saw Jack, Bull, or him with a gun. He had edited the footage and removed any sign of one. The result was a little choppy, but it got the message across loud and clear.