It was focus that he appreciated the most. While so many around him shifted their focus from one intention to another, achieving so little while advancing but inches in thousands of different directions, he remained on point. A single mission. One desired outcome. His flexibility allowed for course alterations, but nothing would be tolerated that pulled him off point.
The team members he assembled were all chosen for specific talents they possessed. Derek was chosen for his faithfulness and honesty. His brother had hired Derek to complete a sensitive job and raved about how well Derek completed the task.
“Cole is your guy,” his brother told him after being asked about resources able to maintain confidentiality while following specific instructions. “He’s on his own, meaning that he understands how important it is to keep his clients happy. He probably knows that if he pisses off the wrong client, his career is done.”
“Well, let’s hope he doesn’t piss me off or more than his career will be over.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
It was the idea of freedom he liked the most, being able to look out his window without reminded concerns of being seen. The doors were all his to command. His promise to keep inside was not a lock, a collar, or an iron barred window. It was just a promise, an understanding that the plan needed his cooperation in order to continue.
Multiple plans needed multiple understandings. The coordination of each plan, itself in need of a plan. He fully knew that his partners would be calling on him, one in person and the other through emissaries. Each would be expecting that their plans were being followed to the letter. Though his brother’s plan lacked direction, it was the easiest to follow. All that was needed was for him to be free, then to follow his brother’s lead. The events at the lodge and the murders in Chicago had now rendered that plan obsolete. He knew his brother was scrambling to formulate another plan, but he had no further interest in learning of it.
His father’s plan, focused solely on gain, was being dismantled piece by piece. His father had shown a surprising level of patience, which gave him pause. He wondered if he had misinterpreted the emotions driving his father’s plan and wondered, if only for a moment, if the prescribed and detailed steps contained an emotion beyond simple greed.
The plan he devised was of singular focus. One governing principle. One driving objective. There were times, multiple times, that he felt pulled to believe that his father and his brother were right and that their motives included a better life for him. He dreamed of what his life could become, with a family by his side to buffet the harsh winds of ridicule, of accusations, of fear. His dreams were consistently interrupted by the memories of Straus telling him that “no one would, no one could ever accept him.”
He was too different. Critically unique. “A subject to be studied. To be understood. To be feared.” His brief time in the world had slammed that truth home. He would never be seen as “one of us,” no matter how determined a family might be. And he grew to understand that, despite their assurances, that he would never find comfort in a non-judgmental embrace. There would be no comfort for him. No chance for shared laughter, the recollecting of made memories, or wishful longing that future plans award.
He largely ignored the looks and glances of others, though he questioned his ability to make his appearance less conspicuous. Blending in, it seemed, would be much harder than he had anticipated. Perhaps impossible. The color of his skin and the deep, foreboding color that surrounded his eyes both were too much to conceal.
Though insignificant to him, their remarks struck him hard. Callous insults, not intended to advise, but only to remind him that becoming a part of the critical mass was impossible.
“Take a bath, dude!”
“First time seeing the sun?”
“Ever hear of dentures?”
“Freak.”
He had been warned by Straus and by his team. Repeatedly, told that the best place for him, the safest place, was behind the walls they provided. He had listened but had not believed that in a world of billions that he would be noticed. Singled out. Laughed at. He never thought that he would cause others to alter their walking paths to steer clear of him. To be the person that caused others to stare in bewildered shock.
As he retreated back to the apartment that his father had rented to serve as a safe house, and after closing the door behind him, he wished, if only for a moment, that it was his door back at the lodge. He wondered how it would feel to cry. To feel the release of a deep sigh followed by a release of emotions. He could not draw a breath, and he could only imagine releasing stress and anxiety by paying attention to his breaths.
He had read about the importance of deep, conscious breathing in some of the books he was allowed to read and had often tried to mimic the descriptive formula. But he found no release, no benefits.
He stood, leaning his back against his motel room’s door, knowing that he was utterly alone. There was no one who would ever accept him for what he was. And he knew that his decisions to exact his revenge would prevent anyone from ever accepting him for who we was.
He felt more trapped now than ever before. It used to be steel reinforced doors, barred windows, and captors holding Tasers that kept him from freedom. Now he realized that it was his own being that was his captor. He didn’t choose to enter this world in the manner that he did, yet he would always be punished for his arrival. When his father first made contact, he thought that maybe he would have the chance at a normal life. He knew that he would need to be very flexible with his defining of normal, but it was his father. He had taken the time and expense needed to find his son. Soon after, his brother accepted his offer to meet. Perhaps to form a relationship the way long-lost brothers often do.
When he learned of his father’s plan, he knew his dreams were in vain. His father wanted only him to be the pawn in his plan. The vehicle that would bring in revenue. His brother’s plan, so quickly determined to be one made without thought, was more focused on exposing truths than becoming a family.
Alexander’s plan, however, included no financial considerations. It did not include a news conference, during which reporters, hungry for scandal, ripped the medical profession apart and launched exposes on the treatment of those in psychiatric institutions. He hated his plan, but following it had quickly proved to be his only choice.
As he leaned against his door, wishing for abilities he had only read about, his phone rang. He had only two phone numbers to memorize. Two people in the world who knew that he could be spoken to. Two souls among billions that wanted to hear his voice.
“Hello father,” he whispered. “I’m not surprised you’re calling me.”
************
CHAPTER THIRTY
It was after his normal dinnertime before Derek reached the small town of Alexandria Bay, New York. Finding the resort was easy, though the summer tourists made navigating the small Alexandria Bay streets a challenge.
He checked into the resort and was told how fortunate he was that they had a cancellation and that he would be getting a river-view room with a balcony.
“The views of the seaway are spectacular,” the desk clerk insisted.
“Awesome,” Derek said. “And can you tell me how close my room is to the McClury’s? They’re good friends.”
“Let me check,” the clerk said as she fumbled her fingers across the computer’s keyboard. “We just installed a new server, and I am not super familiar with it yet.”
Minutes passed.
“You are on the fourth floor, and your friends are on the third. You’ll probably be able to see each other from your balconies.”
“Great, and thanks again for the upgrade,” Derek said.
Derek quickly made his way up to his fourth floor balcony room, dropped his overnight bag onto the king-sized bed, and walked out onto the balcony. It took Derek only a few seconds before he spotted Doctor Stanley Mix and his wife, Michelle. The couple was sitting on their balcony, and though Derek’s balcony was a hu
ndred feet away, he could clearly see that Stanley didn’t look well.
He could see that Stanley was completely bald by the afternoon sun reflecting harshly off his head. His shirt was baggy and revealed his bony shoulders beneath its cover. Michelle was leaning towards her husband, elbows on her thighs and a smile filling her face. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but whatever the topic of their conversation was, Derek was certain it had nothing to do with Alexander Black or any of the O’Connells.
Derek made his 8:00 call to Ken, but received only Ken O’Connell’s voicemail. He was glad that Ken hadn’t answered as he was unsure what he was planning on telling his client.
The next morning, Derek sat on his balcony and watched Michelle Mix sitting alone on her balcony, crying. Derek made sure that Michelle wouldn’t notice him as he sat in quiet confusion, watching. As he sat observing them, wondering what he would tell his client if Ken answered the scheduled 8:00 a.m. call, he saw Michelle stand quickly and move into their room. It was several minutes before he saw motion. Slowly, even more slowly than Derek expected, he watched Michelle help her ailing husband out on to the deck and into one of the lounge chairs. After Stanley was seated, Derek watched as Michelle caressed his face and kissed him on the forehead. She held his hand as she spoke to him, with a smile flooding her face. She then turned towards the room, help up five fingers, smiled again, and disappeared into the room.
Derek quickly moved into his room, put on his sneakers, and headed down to the lobby of the resort. He felt he needed to see Michelle and hopefully speak to her before checking in with Ken O’Connell. Though he had no idea what he would say if given the chance to speak with her, he felt she deserved to know who he was, who we worked for, and what his charge was.
Once in the lobby, Michelle was easy to mark. Though in her fifties, she possessed a comfortable elegance. Her shiny, dark hair and well-conditioned body made her look much younger from a distance. But as Derek drew close and could see the effects of her husband’s illness etched on her face, he knew that cancer affects loved ones as hard as it affects those stricken with the disease.
“Michelle Mix?” he said when he was close enough to Michelle but far enough away from others to hear. “My name is Derek Cole, and I’ve been hired by Ken O’Connell to verify your location. I want to let you know that I’m going to tell Mr. O’Connell that you checked out of this resort before I arrived.”
Michelle’s deep eyes just stared back at Derek’s. She said nothing, but nothing needed to be said.
“I’ve checked in under the name Robert Mendelsohn and have reservations for another night. I know your husband is ill and weak, but I am willing to help you two move into my room. I’ll take care of checking you out.”
“Why are you doing this?” she said as tears reluctantly filled her eyes.
“You don’t deserve what my client wants to put you through. Honestly, I don’t know what your husband deserves, but whatever it is that he does deserve, I think he is already experiencing it.”
“Will Ken believe you?”
“He will. I can be a very good and convincing liar.”
“My husband is hungry. Can we move after he eats?” she asked, revealing how vulnerable she felt her position was. She recognized that all Derek need do is to contact Ken O’Connell, let him know that he’d found them and within hours, the little time Stanley had left in this world would be spent in a living hell of embarrassment, police questioning, possibly being arrested, and who knows what else. Michelle knew what Derek was offering was her only chance to spend the rest of her husband’s days with him in relative peace.
“Of course,” Derek answered. “And I would like to fill you in on what has happened over the last couple of days.”
“No offense, Derek, but I don’t really want to know. I know that Alexander Black escaped from wherever Straus held him captive, and I know that he’s killed several people.”
“I’m not sure who did the killing, actually.”
“I hope I’m not being rude, considering all that you are offering to do for my husband and me, but, please, I don’t want to know.”
“Fair enough,” Derek said. “Bring up your breakfast, enjoy it with your husband. Then, move your things to room 421,” he said as he handed over the credit-card style room key. “If you need help moving your things, tell me now because I am leaving as soon as you head up to your room.”
“No,” Michelle said, shaking her head. “I’ll be fine. But how long is your room reserved for?”
“One more night but I’ll see now if I can extend it a few more days. How long do you think you need?” As he asked, Derek wondered if the more appropriate question would have been “how much longer do you think your husband has left?”
“I’m not sure,” Michelle said. “A few more days should be fine. I don’t know. I do know that we can’t stay here forever.”
“If you give me your cell number, I will text you updates.”
“Fine,” she said. “But know that I only check my messages early in the morning and only for a minute. Two at the most.”
“Understood.”
Derek wrote down Michelle’s cell number on the back of his hand and assured her that Ken O’Connell would be told that she and Stanley had checked out early in the morning and that he was unable to track them.
“Thank you,” Michelle said, her eyes offering all the gratitude that Derek needed. “I can give you cash for the room if you’d like.”
“No thanks. Give me two minutes to see how long I can extend my room reservation,” he said as he turned away towards the front desk. “And, Michelle?”
“Yes?”
“I know that neither you or your husband are proud of the role you played with Alexander Black, but I also feel that you don’t deserve Ken O’Connell’s revenge or Alexander’s. Take care of your husband, and remember to take care of yourself as well.”
Before Michelle could respond, Derek had moved away.
She stood and watched him speaking to the man at the front desk. A minute later, Derek turned, held up four fingers and mouthed, “Four nights. God bless.”
The clerk then waved to Michelle who waved back. Derek mouthed the words, “You’re all checked out.”
“Thank you,” Michelle silently said to Derek, then turned towards the elevator. “Thank you, Derek Cole.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
“If I knew where they were going, I would have followed them. They must have left very early in the morning. I was up at five, and they were already gone.”
The lies were effortless for Derek. It was not because he was familiar with being untruthful, but this ability to be overly creative with the truth came from his own experience. Though he knew nothing about Michelle and Stanley Mix, he saw a familiar pain in her eyes. Pain that needed to be helped.
“Did you get a look at Stanley?” Ken asked during his and Derek’s call.
“I did. He doesn’t look well at all. I don’t think he has much time left,” Derek answered.
“They may have checked into a nearby hospital. Spend the day checking out any hospitals in the area and don’t neglect to call on some Canadian ones as well. I believe you are just a boat ride away from Canada.”
“Yes sir,” Derek said as he pulled his car into drive and headed south, away from Canada. “Any important discoveries since yesterday?
“My resources are telling me that Lucietta may have been murdered in his office yesterday afternoon. Nothing confirmed yet. Police are keeping things quiet now. Too many connected murders. They probably don’t want the public to know what the hell is going on.”
“If Lucietta is gone, that leaves Straus and Mix as the only remaining doctors on Alexander’s list.”
“As well as my family. Do not forget that we are on that list, Cole.”
It was the way Ken said it that stirred something in Derek. Almost a request guised as an order.
“Don’t forget that we are on that list”
“I haven’t forgotten. And honestly, I don’t think my services are best used chasing down dying doctors. I should either track down Black or be by you and your son’s side.”
“I have other resources for protection. You know that,” Ken’s voice was sounding irritated. “Alexander is unique, but even unique criminals get caught sooner or later. Until he is caught, your focus should be on finding Stanley Mix. I hope that is clear.”
“It is clear,” Derek said.
“Good. My resources have also provided me with a possible lead to Straus’s whereabouts. They are following up today. I hope to have Straus in my sights by the time we chat this evening. I expect you will have Mix locked down as well. Once we have all the players, we go public with the whole story. Maybe that will bring Alexander out of hiding as well.”
Heartless: a Derek Cole Mystery Suspense Thriller (Derek Cole Suspense Thriller Book 1) Page 20