Fatal Decision

by John Greenwood

  "I'm not sure, but knowing him, he probably is working somewhere else, you know how he used to fall asleep here because he was working all night."

  He shuffles in his chair. "You're probably right. He was trying to get to the bottom of that email account that he found on the library computer." I look down. "When I talked to him last he said he had a name and an address and he was going to go check it out."

  "Are you serious? How did he get an address from an email account? Don't most people use a bogus name?"

  He looks behind him. "Brian hacked the account and was reading the emails. From what he was telling me some of the stuff was so crazy it sounded made up, so he had to go check it out."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I don’t remember everything, because it sounded pretty far out, but there were emails about murder for money and kidnapping…oops I'm sorry."

  "Don't be. It might all be connected?"

  I look at my computer screen. I watch him pull a piece of paper out of his pocket. "He had me write this name down." I take the piece of paper and see the name, “Mary Clausen”, written down.

  "Who is this?"

  "I'm not sure but Brian said the name kept coming up in the emails. He was going to try and track her down. You think this is all connected to your son missing?"

  "I think there is a good chance. I think we need to get a hold of Brian." He pulls out his cell phone and begins dialing. He puts the phone down a minute later.

  "Still no answer."

  I minimize the browser screen and click on a file. "I have a few numbers for him here." I read him the numbers I have and he tells me he has already tried all of them. I dial them as well and leave a message at each one. Jim and I talk for another hour or so about where Brian might be and what he was working on. I'm not convinced he's in any danger yet, because of his work habits, but we both promise to keep each other updated if we hear or think of anything. I immediately type in the name Mary Clausen on my computer after Jim leaves. There are hundreds of them in Google, but one comes up with the name Frank Harris linked to it. I click on the page and there's a picture a lumpy middle-aged woman and the man that was killed at the house the other night, Frank Harris Sr. They are standing next to each other at what looks like some kind of formal function. He's in a dark suit and she's wearing a dress. She is smiling and he has one of those uncomfortable looks on his face like he is being forced to stand for the picture. Underneath the picture, it explains that Ms. Clausen is holding her annual charity function. I'm guessing she must be the one who inherited the fifty million. I look at her picture closer and she is covered with giant expensive stones around her neck and arms. I click back to Google and continue reading about her, she was apparently at one time a school teacher who was attending nursing school at night in the next county over and then she resigned upon receiving a large inheritance and setup many charity functions. It says she is a real socialite and has never been married, it doesn’t say her relation to Frank or Shane or even Frank Sr. She looks too young to be his wife, maybe a daughter but I'm not sure. I look up one of her charities and it gives an address in Old Town Alexandria. I quickly write it down. I start searching some more, but I keep ending up on the same pages with the same picture. Finally, I open up Google again and re- type her name in. I get most of the same sites that I got before, but I do find another page with a picture of her with Frank Harris again. It's a better shot of Frank. He is standing slightly behind Ms. Clausen and appears to be holding a drink in his hand. He is smiling and looking at something to his right, but I can't tell because the picture is cut off. At least this confirms that they know each other. I stare at the picture of him for a while. I keep thinking she is related to Tommy missing. I head back out to my truck and drive north towards Alexandria. After a little while, I drive past the famous Masonic Temple and head down the scenic and quaint Duke Street. It starts out moving quickly, but as I get closer to the Potomac River, the street narrows and the traffic crowds. There are plenty of people out and about; both tourists and locals enjoying the scenery on a beautiful Saturday morning. I'm not exactly sure where the charity office is, but it is in the four-hundred block, so it's a prestigious address located near the water. I find a spot a few blocks away and join the morning crowd walking. I take notice of all the small shops full of people and trinkets selling from anywhere from a dollar to thousands of dollars. I continue walking past a few small art galleries and see the sign for the office I'm looking for. It's a small sign over a brick building next to two popular seafood restaurants. I can see lights on and people inside. I stop outside the door and peer in. I see a larger woman who I'm pretty sure is Mary Clausen. I feel my excitement level rise as I push the door open and step inside. There are two others in the office besides Ms. Clausen and they both look at me curiously as I step inside. One of them is another woman quite a bit older than Clausen, and the other is a man who is probably no more than twenty five. The man walks towards me.

  "Hi can we help you?" He's very tall and slim with light blond hair swept away from his forehead, definitely the model type.

  "I'm here to see Mary Clausen." He looks back at the two women. The one that looks like Ms. Clausen waves me forward.

  "I'm Mary Clausen, how can I help you?" She is a little larger than she looks in the picture. She's almost as tall as I am. Her hair is long and very dark, it has obviously been died. She's wearing a long yellowish-colored dress. I lightly shake her hand.

  "Yes, my name is Shelton Smith. I'm wondering if you could tell me anything about Frank Harris." I watch her expression change.

  "Please follow me." I follow her through the rest of the office and into the back to a small room equipped with a computer and what looks like a small copy machine. She shuts the door and leans against the desk. "Look I don’t know who you are or what you want, but whatever happened to Frank he didn’t deserve. He was a straight up guy who was just trying to enjoy his retirement and stay away from all that chaos that always followed him."

  "What do you mean all that chaos?"

  She looks at the closed door than back at me. "Are you a reporter or something?" She has a weird twang to her voice. I shake my head no. "You know with the money and his kids and everything. The guy has been through hell and now this." She takes a good long look at me. "Do I know you? You look familiar? Who are you?"

  "Someone trying to find out some more information about Frank and Shane," She quickly turns her head.

  "So you do know them?" I nod. "Well then you know they are two of the nastiest people on this earth who will do anything to get at the money which is why I am working so hard on my charities to keep it out of their hands." She looks at the door again and lowers her voice. "I do recognize you. You’re the guy whose son is missing right?" I nod in agreement. "What does Frank have to do with this?"

  "That's what I'm trying to find out."

  "You think Frank was involved in that?" She shakes her head, "No way. Like I said he was a straight shooter. He was a judge. I mean he had to resign from the bench, but that wasn't his fault. There's no way he would do anything like that. I'm sorry I can't help you there." She reaches for the door handle.

  "Hold on." She stops and looks back at me. I can see a glittery necklace full of diamonds peeking out from under her neckline. "How do you know Frank and Shane?"

  She looks down at her feet. She's wearing bright yellow high-heels. "I don’t think they're involved either. They just want the money. They are my step brothers from his second marriage. I don’t talk to them, never did. Like I said, they are pure evil." She reaches for the door handle again and slowly opens it.

  "Do you know where they live or stay at?" She opens the door and walks back out into the main office, then stops and turns around.

  "Their mom has a little house somewhere around here. You know those boys killed her right? Only reason they haven't killed me is because if something happens to me, the money goes to my attorney. I have a great one who set it all this up so if some
thing happens to me I have a safeguard. You can talk to him if you want to know anything else."

  "Where did their mom live?" She looks at me.

  "Look…her and I weren't close, so I'm not really sure, but I know it's in Alexandria somewhere near here. It's on the water I know that." The older woman and the man are both looking at us.

  "Who's your attorney?" She pauses, looks at both of them and then looks back at me.

  "Douglas Sorenson."

  Chapter 19

  I can't believe it. Sorenson is her attorney. How can that be? Why isn't Sorenson telling me everything? I walk out of the charity office and head down towards the pier. I find a spot on an empty bench facing the river. I watch the convoy of small boats racing back and forth. Some of them tie up at the dock to get lunch, gas or whatever they need. I try and imagine Michelle, Tommy and me on the river. I vow to rent a boat when we get Tommy back tomorrow. I try and think about what I'll say to him when I first see him. I wonder how he will be given back to me. I so hope I can go through with it tomorrow. I close my eyes and try and imagine pulling the trigger. For the first time, I see Sorenson hitting the floor and there's no blood. I think to myself I can do it. I have to do it. I look at my watch, it's almost one o'clock. Twenty-four hours from now it will be over. I only wonder what will happen after that, but I force myself not to think about that. Instead, I concentrate on a large open tour boat advertising a cruise through Washington, DC. There are maybe twenty people boarding the boat with the assistance of two college-aged kids. Everyone looks so happy and carefree. I can't even remember what that must feel like. It's like they have no care in the world. It's hard to believe I used to be like that a week ago. My biggest worry was getting up on time and making sure a bunch of computers do what they're supposed to do. It seems so irrelevant now. I can’t seem to comprehend how I'll ever be able to go back to that. I go back to watching the boat. The college kids are standing on the edge of the boat un-tying the lines. All the passengers are seated. A minute later, they pull away and eventually disappear to my left. I turn my head behind me when I hear a loud cheer and clapping. There’s a small crowd gathered in a circle with a man in the middle riding a unicycle and juggling. I'm waiting for him to fall, but he expertly stays upright and catches the three pins until the crowd disperses and fills a bucket set up in front of him with cash. I'm startled when my phone begins to vibrate. I look down and see an email with no address, so I immediately know who it's from. I click on the message and then the attachment. I see Tommy seated in the same bedroom, but now it looks empty. There are no more video games, books, food boxes or anything. Tommy is seated in the same place he always is looking to his left, probably at Mr. Ken. He appears as though he's not aware of being filmed. He looks much more bored and uncomfortable than the last few times, but at least his eyes look clear. I watch the video for about twenty seconds. I try and save it but it deletes itself too quickly. I keep clicking but nothing is happening, both the video and email are gone. I set the phone down beside me in frustration. I look back out at the busy river and try not to think about Tommy sitting there in that room now with nothing but him. A small powerboat zips by pulling a rubber raft with two kids clinging to it. They are going so fast I almost don’t even hear my phone begin vibrating again. I quickly look away and answer.

  "Hello my dear Sheldon. Are we ready for tomorrow's activities at 1:00? I hear the Redskins are playing the Giants, should be a good game. I just feel bad our friend won’t be able to watch it since you are going to follow through this time I presume." I watch the powerboat continue to go back and forth in front of me.

  "Look, you better give me Tommy as soon as I am out of there."

  "You will receive instructions within ten minutes of confirmation which I assume you should know I can do." I stand up and lean over the railing and look at the water below. “Isn't there a better way to do this?"

  "You're not getting cold feet again are you Sheldon. I promise you if you if you don’t do what I ask this will be our last conversation. I hope you enjoyed the video."

  "Where's all the stuff? Why's he sitting there with nothing to do?" I watch a seagull land on the railing about ten feet from me.

  "I think you know the answer to that. Let me put it like this. One way or another, in less than twenty-four hours he won’t be in that room anymore, if you know what I mean. Where he goes is up to you of course." The seagull quickly flies away.

  "You better not hurt him. Why did you have to kill Lawrence? He didn’t do anything?"

  "Remember I told you there is always collateral damage in every battle. It can’t be helped. I send my condolences to you. Hopefully, there won’t be any more tragedies for you tomorrow." I walk away from the rail and head back towards the street. I walk by the unicyclist. He's seated on the ground, emptying his cash bucket into his pocket.

  "I'm going to find you after this is all over. I promise you that." I squeeze the phone. "There better not be a scratch on Tommy."

  "What did I tell you in the beginning? I take care of what's not mine. You do your job and I'll do mine. I must go. I have to keep packing. Tomorrow is moving day." I hear the line go dead. I walk back out onto Duke Street and up the few blocks to my truck. I pass the charity office on the way by. I can see Mary Clausen talking to her to workers in there. They don’t notice me. I drive back home. Michelle is seated in the kitchen with her parents. Buster hops up and greets me at the kitchen door. I pet his back lightly.

  "How did it go with Jim, Sheldon?" I go to the refrigerator and pour a glass of milk.

  "Okay. They're working on how to find Tommy." I decide not to tell her about Brian not being able to be contacted.

  "Jim called again. He said for you to give him a call when you get a chance." I nod.

  "Why don’t you have a sandwich? I made two or three of them. They're in the refrigerator." I look at Michelle's mom. She is seated next to Michelle and has her hand on her shoulder. I grab a sandwich. She smiles and I head upstairs. I end up in Tommy's room. For some reason, I decide to rearrange the furniture and take everything on the walls down. I don’t want it to look like the room he's been staying in. I push the bed to the other side and move the dresser where the bed was. An hour later, my clothes are soaked and my forehead is dripping wet, but I’m satisfied the room doesn’t look anything like it used to. I look at the clock. It’s almost 5:00, tomorrow at this time Sorenson will have been dead a few hours. His wife and daughter will have found him and their lives will be ruined. The police will probably be combing through his house and dusting for prints and any DNA evidence they can find. I'm not sure how I'll be able to explain my prints being there, but I figure I can tell Stanton that we have talked a few times about the clue he gave me. I'm still puzzled about him being Mary Clausen's lawyer, but I tell myself I'll deal with that later when I hear Buster's collar clanging as he comes up the stairs. I quickly take him for another walk up the street. The night is beginning to move in, so we move quickly. We still haven't found the leash, but Buster doesn’t seem to want to wander off too far away from me. I watch him stop at certain trees and bushes, so many decisions and he does it so easily. I wish my life was that simple. One decision tomorrow, not only affects my life but so many others as well. I can’t help thinking time is running out. I decide to give Jim a call. I really need a last minute break.

  "Hi Sheldon."

  "Jim, any luck with contacting Brian yet?" I watch Buster chase a squirrel.

  "Nothing, I've been trying non-stop. I have a bad feeling about this. I went by his house again earlier and there’s still no sign of him." I shake my head. A squirrel races up the tree leaving Buster at the bottom staring upwards. I clap my hands and he comes towards me.

  "We have to believe he's trying to track this stuff down and is just caught up."

  "Yeah, but he would have called by now. He always checks in." I nod my head. I watch Buster sniff a small patch of grass opposite our house.

  "I'll keep trying to call him
myself." I'm getting a sinking feeling about Brian, but there's no way he could be connected to what happened to Tommy. "Thanks for calling Jim. Let me know if you hear from him." He hangs up and I take Buster back into the house. Michelle is seated in the kitchen with her parents. I watch Buster run in and go straight to the water bowl. Michelle and I hang out on the couch for the rest of the night and end up falling asleep as usual. I feel myself wake up every few hours throughout the night causing Buster to roll over and become antsy. Finally, I give up and decide to get up. I take Buster out for an early morning walk. As soon as we step outside, the air definitely feels different. It's almost as if God has thrown a thick blanket over everything trying to ease the calm before the storm. Even Buster is walking a little slower. I try and fight through the thick air and walk to the end of our driveway. My legs feel like rubber bands and my feet are tingling. I'm not sure if it's from my lack of sleep or from what I'm about to do today. I'm thinking it is from the latter. Buster isn’t running away today, he is staying directly by my side. They say that dogs can sense things humans can’t and I'm sure Buster is recognizing what I am about to go through. I reach down and rub his neck and point towards the grass that he usually goes to, but he is refusing to leave me. I walk over to the grass with him and he finally lifts his leg on one of his favorite shrubs. We spend the next little while repeating this procedure up and down the street until we go back inside. Buster doesn’t go for the kitchen this time. He just stays by my side. I walk him out to the kitchen and show him the water. He laps up at least a half-gallon. I can’t help but look at the kitchen clock. It's almost 7:00 AM, just a little over six hours until the world explodes. I can't seem to sit still. I try eating something, cleaning, even watching TV but nothing is working. I'm just too fidgety. Buster isn't leaving my side. No matter where I go he is right there. Michelle is asleep on the couch and I haven't heard any activity upstairs yet from the guest room. Her father is one of those guys who sleep until 11:00 AM every morning. I think he stays up all night reading or watching TV, so I guess he makes up for it in the morning. I decide to check our voice messages. There is one new one. It’s from my mom, she says they are flying into Reagan National early this afternoon and they want me to pick them up. They'll call me back with the flight information. I hope it's after 1:00, though I really wish it was at 1:00 and I could use that as an excuse not to go to Sorenson's. I keep looking at the clock. Another fifteen minutes has passed. I don’t know how I’m going to make it until 1:00. I still don’t even know if I can really go through with it, though I think I have to or I'll never see Tommy again and that is something I can’t bear to live with. I keep thinking back to what Harris said on the phone about parents always saying they will do anything for their kids and now I have a chance to actually do it. I just wish it didn’t mean I had to murder an innocent man. I can’t stop picturing his daughter chasing that dog around her front yard. She will lose her father. He's probably her hero and she's his little girl, and now she'll never see him again. She's barely even old enough to remember him. How am I going to live with that? I look down at Buster. His head is across my feet and his eyes are closed. There's not a worry in his body, just peace and bliss. I finally decide to try and eat something. I'm not sure if it's going to help since my stomach is turning somersaults, but I can’t just sit here and worry. I think I'll go crazy. I pour a bowl of cereal and add a tiny bit of milk. Buster follows me through the whole process and then places his head back on my feet at the table. The two of us remain that way for what must be a few hours because Michelle comes in and eats something then her parents do the same. I don’t think I say one word and Buster doesn’t move an inch. I've been trying not to look at the clock, but I see out of the corner of my eye I see that it is almost 11:00. I feel the tension brewing up even more and it seems to have gone beyond my stomach. I imagine the NFL pre-game shows have already gone on the air preparing for the 1:00 Redskin game. We're that close now. Michelle and her parents disappear upstairs and I take Buster out for one more walk before I grab my keys and head for the Tahoe. I can barely start the engine because my hands are shaking so much. It feels like déjà vu as I pull into the parking lot of the storage facility. It’s 12:00, one hour to go until kickoff. I find the gun in the same place I put it before. I slip it into my jacket and crawl back into the truck. I quickly look and see it has six rounds. I drive around for a while, I even pass the same church I stopped in before, but I can’t bear to confront the beautiful statue of Jesus a second time before what I’m about to do. I'm not sure I'll be able to go through with it, but I keep thinking what will happen to Tommy if I don’t. I try to imagine an executioner at a prison pulling the switch or the injection. They can’t think about the consequences from their actions, they just focus on completing the task at hand. I drive down Sorenson's street without slowing down when I pass the house, though I almost slam into a tree when I see his wife and daughter outside in the yard again. I keep thinking maybe they'll be there at 1:00 and I won’t have to go through with it. I drive through the neighborhood and come back towards Sorenson's house again, only this time I see a car beginning to back out of the driveway with two heads in it. 12:45, the time is approaching much too quickly. I can't concentrate anymore. I can barely even keep my eyes on the road. I consider intentionally hitting a tree head on, but I don’t want to take the chance of Tommy not being let go. That's what it all comes down to. I'm doing this for Tommy. Whether or not I spend the rest of my life in jail or in hell doesn’t matter as long as Tommy is free from this sick and twisted killer. I have to do it for him. I am one of the few parents who can actually choose to do anything for their kids. This has become my mantra. I turn around and pull up alongside the wooded road. I decided earlier I would duck into his yard through the trees so no one would see me walking down the road. I'm hoping they won't recognize my car, but in reality I'm not thinking straight and if they do, that's probably the price I need to pay. I slowly walk through the manicured grass. It’s the same grass Sorenson's precious daughter was just playing on. I keep looking in all directions. I'm not sure what I'm looking for, maybe a miracle that I know isn’t coming. I check my phone hoping for one last call, nothing. 12:58, it is time. I make it to the front door. I check my gun in my pocket with my hand again. It is still there and feels cold and foreign. I stand looking at the front door for some time. I'm not sure if I’m frozen or just not ready, but it is much harder this time, maybe because last time I knew deep down there was no way I was actually going to do it. This time it is different. This is real this time. If I don’t do it, Tommy dies. I turn around and look back at the yard. Everything looks so perfect, the grass is green, the sky is blue, the sun is shining, the birds are singing and then I feel the gun in my pocket and all of a sudden everything looks wrong and out of focus like the world is all of a sudden upside down. I feel myself breathing very rapidly and my forehead is full of sweat. I quickly try and get control by taking deep long breaths and it seems to be helping because everything is starting to clear up into a nice thick fog. I turn back around, it's 1:00. I knock on the door. No answer, so I knock harder. A minute later, Sorenson appears at the door. He's holding a beer in one hand and sandwich in the other.