Patience, My Dear

by Bower Lewis

  There was no response to that.

  “How can You expect me to have faith when we just keep chasing our tails? Even You don’t seem to know what’s going on most of the time, and You’re the freaking omniscient One!”

  OMNISCIENCE IS NOT THE ANITDOTE 2 FREE WILL

  HUMAN NATURE IS FLUID & SELF-CONTRADICTRY

  ITS A NUISANCE, TBH

  Y DO U THNK I NEED UR HELP?

  She dumped the phone back onto the console. Rutherford was now staring down at John’s cache of weapons, appearing to have noticed it for the first time.

  “Miss Kelle—” He paused. “That conversation you were having just now, was it about my son? Please tell me who you were arguing with.”

  She turned her eyes down from the mirror. “I was arguing with a madman, Mr. Ellison. I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you anything more than that. Do you think you’ll be able to handle that?”

  He looked down at the weapons again, then glanced up to the man who’d nearly brought about his demise just a few hours before.

  “Are you going to get my son back?”

  “You bet your ass we are,” John said.

  Patience turned back to look Rutherford in the eyes. “We’re going to get Zane back.”

  “That’s the only thing I need to know.”

  • • •

  Rutherford was starting to look a little ill as John followed the directions in his head, darting around the traffic at over a hundred miles per hour while Patience followed along on Zane’s phone. He seemed to be holding his own, though, and he didn’t complain. He lifted his face from his hands after a span of shared silence and tapped Patience on the shoulder.

  “Those videos Zane says he has of Alexander killing Joey Forsyth, are they real?”

  She nodded and kept her eyes forward. “Yes, Mr. Ellison. They’re very real.”

  “Do you know who sent them to him?” She didn’t respond to that. “Have you seen them?”

  She turned back, finally, and nodded again. “Those videos are Alexander Rockwell’s worst nightmare. They’re also what guarantee us that he’ll keep Zane alive. He can’t kill him without knowing who’s got them or how widely they might be distributed. They’re Zane’s lifeline, Sir, and he and Rockwell both know it.”

  The mogul never turned his eyes from the traffic as it fell back from the speeding Hummer.

  “He can hurt Zane though, can’t he?”

  She turned forward again and nodded a final time. It was the only thought she’d been able to maintain with any consistency since Zane had disappeared. It was like a punch to the gut, hearing it spoken aloud.

  Rutherford nodded back. “Thank you for your candor.”

  She turned to face him again. “Zane never wanted you involved in this, Sir. It’s important that you understand that. I was desperate to keep him out of prison, so I played dirty to get him to come to you today, even though he was innocent of every charge he was being threatened with. If I’m certain of anything in the world right now, it’s that he’ll regret what happened at your office this afternoon for the rest of his life.”

  Rutherford shifted his gaze past her. “Well, that makes two of us. Zane has always had difficulty thinking for himself. It’s a shortcoming that doesn’t seem to have improved at all since he’s left Hyannis.”

  “I’m quite certain the opposite is true.”

  His laugh sounded like a beaten down version of what it had been a few short hours before. “Are you, indeed? Well, let’s take a look at it. Within a month of exercising his independence, Zane has turned his back on the security protocols that have effectively protected him his entire life. He’s concocted a scheme to abduct a sitting state senator, one who happens also now to be dead, and he’s destroyed my social and political credibility. Apparently, that wasn’t rebellion enough for him, however. He’s now insisted upon being taken hostage by a delusional sociopath with a Tom Jones fixation. And all this occurred promptly upon his falling under the influence of a common, pink-haired Allston barmaid.”

  Patience caught her uncle’s wrist before his hand reached Rutherford’s throat. She held it fast and met Zane’s father’s eyes.

  “Most of what you’ve just said is accurate, Mr. Ellison, regardless of the fact that it isn’t true. Zane wouldn’t be mixed up in this if he hadn’t met me. That’s correct. But everything he’s done, he’s done for very good and very serious reasons. Few people will ever understand how deeply in debt they already are to him, and that’s probably the way it should be. But if you could do me just one favor tonight, I would ask that it be this: Back the hell off your son.”

  The silence came down around them like snow from an overburdened roof. Patience released her uncle’s arm and looked down to the phone for more directions. It was Rutherford who broke their stalemate at last. His voice was quiet, but not soft.

  “Thank you for telling me how it was that Zane came to see me today,” he said. “It does help to know.”

  She closed her eyes and fought the tears she didn’t have the time or tolerance for. She nodded and looked away again.

  “I don’t enjoy being afraid for the people I love,” he continued. “I understand that I’m not very good at it.”

  She could feel her uncle watching her. He reached a hand out and mussed up her hair. Then he pressed down on the gas. She didn’t look back at him.

  “Just drive.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  They pulled up on Washington Street, where the X5s had doubled in number and created an ominous-looking herd that dominated the street outside O’Malley’s. Rutherford jumped out, in defiance of security protocol, and the rest of the doors opened quickly in unison. Twenty-four of his best agents stepped down and stood beside their vehicles.

  Ed approached his renegade employer as Patience and John joined him on the sidewalk. The agent’s stoic reserve was strained by a terse determination.

  “Mr. Ellison, Sir, what are we doing here? We’ve tracked Zane to a—”

  Rutherford raised a hand and turned toward the pub. “Not here, Ed. Inside.”

  The muscles of the chief’s jaw twitched, but he gestured to his men. Patience entered first and waved to Frank. He glanced up and nodded his usual greeting. Then his jaw dropped at the sight of her long-missing uncle, shadowed by Rutherford Ellison and his army of men in dark suits with wires tucked behind their ears. She pointed toward the function room at the back and didn’t wait for his response. His expression turned from alarm to anguish as he shoved his way through the agents, pushing Rutherford aside as he fought his way toward his goddaughter.

  A few of the men drew their guns, but Frank just waved them off like gnats. Rutherford shook his head at Ed and the agents reholstered their weapons as the barkeep grabbed John by the shoulders and drew him into a fierce hug. He pushed him back again with equal force and smacked him soundly on the head.

  “John Patrick Flaherty. My God, man! Your sister’s been half out of her mind these past ten years. Where the hell have you been?”

  John grinned at his lifelong friend and clapped him on the arm. “How goes it, Frank? I understand that you’ve been doing what you can to keep my niece out of trouble. That’s a thankless job, but I thank you nonetheless.”

  Frank glanced at her as a pained expression slid across his face. “You can keep your thanks for that one. This past week alone, she’s pulled a stunt that terrorized a block of Comm Ave, she’s run half the local frats back to the White Horse Tavern, for Christ’s sake, and it took her all of five minutes to drive a priest from the church. I think that last one might be a personal best, but I’ll have to check my notes.”

  “I did what?”

  Frank crossed his arms and turned to face her. “Father Rick was in again last night, sporting a three-piece suit and a blonde on his arm. It seems the good father’s got an MBA and an uncle with a brokerage firm. He’s trading his life of servitude for the opportunity to make friends and influence people. He bought a round of drin
ks for the pub and drank a toast in your honor, my dear. The Church has groomed another stockbroker, after a five-minute conversation with you.”

  She shrank back, at a rare loss for words, but Frank was having none of that. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said at last. “He seemed like a decent priest, although in retrospect, I guess his competitive streak was a little intense.”

  Frank’s face was nearly crimson now. “What in God’s name is going on here, Patience Abigail, and exactly how many guns have you just brought into my pub?”

  John stepped forward, but she shook her head and looked back to her godfather. “It’s about Zane,” she said. “We just need a few minutes where we can get our act together. Alexander Rockwell is having our places watched, and this was the best location I could think of, that I was certain he wouldn’t know about.”

  Frank’s eyes flew up as his mouth dropped open. “What’s a con man like Alexander Rockwell got to do with you, Patience?”

  “It’s an extremely long story.”

  “Then you’d better get into the storytelling mood.”

  Rutherford Ellison stepped between them. “Mr. O’Malley, do you know who I am?”

  Frank paused. “There’s not a man in the country who doesn’t know who you are, Mr. Ellison. What’s that got to do with my goddaughter?”

  “Zane is my son. Alexander has taken him, and every second that passes is a second that he remains at the mercy of a madman with no conscience. All we’re asking for is a few minutes here alone, so we can make some arrangements and get on the same page. I’d consider myself in your debt, Sir. Of course, I’d be happy to pay whatever you feel is appropriate for the inconvenience.”

  Frank leaned against a table. He raised a hand to his eyes after glancing down at Patience. “I don’t charge family for things, Mr. Ellison, and my convenience is not the problem here. The problem, if I’m understanding this situation, is that you people appear to be handling it on your own. You need to call the police, Sir. Right now.”

  Patience touched her godfather on the shirt sleeve. “Rockwell’s already killed one man, Frank. If he gets too twitchy, he could kill Zane as well. These men are better trained for this sort of thing than the police are. Please, Frank, we can’t let him kill Zane.” Her breath caught. “I love him.”

  Frank’s head fell back and he groaned aloud. “Well, this is one for the books, my dear. You can have the room, but you won’t be with these men when they leave. You’re staying here with me tonight, and you’re not setting a foot outside the pub until I’m one hundred percent convinced that Alexander Rockwell is no longer a threat to you or to anybody else. Do you understand me?”

  She shook her head. John pulled out his revolver and tapped it against the handle of his rifle.

  “Patience is covered, Frank, my hand to God. I’ll see that she comes out of this safe.”

  “Your word has become more than a little suspect over the past decade, John Patrick. Patience stays here. The rest of you can do what you need to for Zane, and feel free to give Mr. Rockwell a jab in the gizzards from me as well. Your son’s a nice kid, Mr. Ellison. I like him more than most.”

  He fought his way to the door and then turned back to his goddaughter. “And just so there’s no misunderstanding, Patience, I’m about to go offer each of the BC Eagles at the bar a semester’s worth of free beer to guard that rear exit. Unless you’re willing to let these men shoot their way through a bunch of college football players, I recommend that you come out through the front when you’re done here.”

  The door banged shut and he was gone. Patience crossed her arms as John gave her shoulder a squeeze.

  “I didn’t notice The Biz chiming in with any bright ideas for diffusing that one.”

  The message tone itself sounded defensive.

  WHT DO U WNT FROM ME?

  HES UR GODFATHR!

  Ed stepped past them and turned to his employer. “Mr. Ellison, Sir, why are we in Allston? Zane is ten miles west of here.”

  John nodded at the agent. “Wellesley. They’re back at Rockwell’s stronghold. The problem, G-man, is that the major exits are all being watched, and there’s a sweet little welcoming party awaiting us on Cliff Road. He’s got a whole lot of muscle around him now, courtesy of SolarTech’s never-ending cash flow, and he’s putting it to good use. Now, I love a castle-storming as much as the next man, but it’s gonna take something a little more finessed to get your boy out safe before I lasso Mr. Rockwell’s entrails to a rocket and blast the corpse back to hell where he belongs.”

  Patience punched him in the gut as Ed turned away. He stood silently for a moment with a hand to his ear, then spun back and removed the chiming phone from her hand. He hit the touch screen a few times and cursed at its vacant display.

  “Miss Kelleher, I’ve just received satellite confirmation of a suspicious congregation assembled on Cliff Road. I’ve also received confirmation of increased activity around Alexander Rockwell’s residence. So, I will ask you once again, where are you people getting your information?”

  They stared at one another as the tension in the room grew palpable. Ed took her by the arm and she pulled back. They shouted in unison.

  “You’ve got satellite?!”

  “Where are you getting your Intel?!”

  John grabbed the agent to the twig-snap threat of hammers cocking all around them. “Rockefeller!” he hollered. “Get your man off my niece or I’m taking his head off!”

  Rutherford just looked at Ed and he released her arm. John nodded at the chief and brushed down his lapels as the mogul dropped into a folding chair.

  “Get it together, all of you. Ed, I’ve already told you that I don’t care about that now. You’re working together tonight, and the next person to waste a second of my son’s freedom with senseless arguing, I will shoot him myself. Am I clear? I want my son back, goddamn it.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Rutherford turned his attention back to Patience.

  “Let’s finish this now, please. What do you need from my men?”

  • • •

  Four of the agents held Frank against the bar as several more kept the crowd contained. Frank just stared past them to the doorway, where Rutherford Ellison stood, flanked by two of his men.

  “This is a hell of a way to repay a favor, Sir.”

  Rutherford nodded as the agents turned him back to the waiting SUVs. Patience broke from her uncle’s grip and squeezed between the suits. She threw her arms around her godfather’s neck.

  “You knew I’d never let these men get into it with a bunch of college kids, Frank. They’re not screwing around. What else could I do?”

  “You could go home and spend some time with your mother for the first time in a month. You could go out to the movies with a friend. You could sit your arse down on that stool until Zane is safe, like we agreed. You could be anywhere but where you’re going, doing anything but what you’ve got planned. That’s what else you could do.”

  She gave him a squeeze and her uncle reached between the agents to pull her back by the coat sleeve. Frank called to her again as John turned her toward the door.

  “Understand this, Patience Abigail. If I have to explain to your mother tonight that you’ve been hurt or worse, doing something this reckless, and that I failed to prevent you from going, neither one of us will ever recover from it. I won’t forgive you for that, and the not forgiving you is what’s going to kill me the most.”

  Her eyes dropped to the floor. “I know that, Frank. I never want to kill you at all, I promise. It’s going to be okay.”

  John squeezed her shoulder and nodded to her godfather. “She’s a lot scrappier than you’d ever believe, Frank. I can’t explain it, but this is the way it’s meant to be, and Patience will be with me every second. Nothing’s going to happen to her tonight that doesn’t happen to me first.”

  Frank leveled his eyes at the SCUD until John looked away. “So help me, John Flaherty, if Patience doesn’t come
out of this alive and unharmed, you’d better just go back to being dead. Because, if you fail, I will make your life such hell, you’ll be begging for the grave.”

  John turned Patience toward the door again. “I’ll see to it, Frank. I give you my word.”

  The agents released the barkeep once Patience was safely entombed in the Hummer. He followed them out to the sidewalk as his happily scandalized patrons spilled out behind, and picked the fight up again. Ed and his men turned back and Patience looked to John. He stepped back down from the truck to referee.

  She sat there, barricaded from the muffled chaos beyond and alone for the first time since the madness had begun. She couldn’t bear the sight of her godfather surrounded by all those men—though he was giving as good as he got—so she turned her face from the action and reached for the phone with mechanical determination.

  “Okay, Biz, You win. I’m asking. Why am I here? If You’d just sent Uncle John in at the start, this would have been over days ago and You’d both be on to other things by now. All I’ve done is slow You down and complicate things to the point where I question whether the world can survive my intervention.” She paused. “I question whether Zane can now as well.”

  PATIENCE U NEED 2 HVE FAITH

  FAITH N ZANE, FAITH N URSELF

  Her chest tightened around her heart. “What I need is information. Why won’t You tell me if he’s okay? You had no trouble showing me the code to Forsyth’s security system, or beaming me pictures of Zane driving miles off in the distance. I can’t understand why You won’t just tell me the one thing in the world I really need to know.”

  The Biz did not respond right away.

  “You know what? Forget about it. It’s obvious that my instincts about communicating with You have been right all along. I retract my question. I retract them both.”

  I SMPLY SUGGESTD THT U TRUST URSELF

  “Joey Forsyth is dead. Rockwell is doing God only knows what to Zane as we speak, and we’re just sitting here, wasting time, while my godfather takes on two-dozen men armed with Rugers. All Frank’s done my entire life is watch out for me and call me on my shit. He doesn’t deserve this kind of anguish and aggravation. So pardon me if I’m having trouble figuring out which of my contributions so far are supposed to inspire this great faith in myself. On second thought, I unretract my question. Why am I here? What could You possibly want from me that You couldn’t have gotten faster and more efficiently from Uncle John?”