Assassin's Redemption: Stolen Memories, #1

by Richard Allen Evans

  “None. Whenever the FBI is finished with the lab is all it says,” she said.

  The door opened and a very stern looking Chet faced them.

  “I thought I told you two I didn't want to see you here today,” he said.

  “And I thought you were taking today as well,” Beau said.

  Chet grinned.

  “Well, I thought I'd check and see if the lab sent anything but judging from the look on Haley's face I'd we've been bumped to the back of the line,” he said.

  “You're right. But then again, you know how the FBI operates,” she said.

  “All too well. We'll wait because we're the local idiots and they're the FBI,” Chet said.

  “Then I guess we've done all we can do for the moment,” Beau said.

  “Yeah, I'd say so. By the way, Carlene wanted me to apologize again for disturbing your supper,” Chet said as Beau and Haley both shifted nervously.

  “Please, it was just pizza,” Haley said.

  “Yeah, no big deal. She didn't bother anyone,” Beau said.

  Chet held up a hand.

  “Be that as it may, she wanted me to apologize anyway. You weren't home and honestly, it worried both of us. Listen, you're both adults. What you do on your own time is your own business - not mine or anybody else. I'm just glad she was with you. I know you'll watch out for her,” Chet said to Beau, who nodded silently.

  “You don't have to worry about me,” Haley said.

  Chet smiled again.

  “I'm not anymore. I've never seen either one of you happier. He's not going to let anything happen to you. In fact, you're probably better protected than the president,” he said to Haley.

  “So...you're not upset?” Beau asked.

  “Not at all,” Chet said.

  “But Carlene, uh, what's she going to say?” Beau asked.

  Chet scratched his chin.

  “Unless she's changed her mind since breakfast - and I've known her long enough to seriously doubt that - she's thrilled. She's of the opinion that neither one of you could've done better,” he said.

  Haley walked around her desk to Beau and placed her right hand inside his left. His hand looked massive over hers. Beau squeezed softly.

  “I, uh, I don't know what to say. I mean, I'm grateful -,” Chet cut him off.

  “You don't have to say anything,” he said.

  “Uncle Chet, would you like to join us for lunch? I have a taste for onion rings,” Haley said.

  “That does sound good,” Beau agreed as she gently her hand from his and placed her pinky in his palm. She couldn't resist a grin as Beau slowly nodded.

  “Actually, as cold and rainy as it is, a bowl of chili sounds pretty good. But before we go, I would like to check on something. Would you mind opening the safe? I'd like to make sure our evidence is still there,” Chet said.

  Beau opened the safe and all of the contents appeared to be in place - including the photos and video tape.

  “I just wanted to make sure everything is still there. I've dealt with the Ravens before,” Chet said.

  “Yeah, I gathered that from the things old man Raven said to us,” Haley said.

  “Maybe we should make copies of everything and hide the originals,” Beau suggested.

  Chet's eyes widened.

  “That's a great idea. Have you got something I can carry this things in?” He asked.

  “How about this?” Haley asked after rummaging through one of the filing cabinets.

  “A brown bag? Perfect,” Chet said.

  “How are you going to copy that?” Beau asked.

  “Leave that to me. As soon as copies are made, I'll replace these in the safe. The originals will be kept in a secure location,” Chet said.

  “And where is that?” Haley asked.

  “If I told you it wouldn't be real secure,” Chet said.

  ***

  Chuck made his way into the old building and made his way up the steps to his apartment. He threw his knapsack on the table and went into the kitchen. He got a pot of coffee started and went back into the living room. Chuck fired up his laptop. He thought about turning the television on but figured coverage of the assassination would still dominate screen time. He did not want to be reminded.

  As soon as his computer booted, he went to his e-mail. Curiously, he had message from his agent. He recognized the code in the subject line. Another job so soon? Well, he was finished taking jobs. The only killing he would for the rest of his life would not be for personal gain, only personal redemption.

  He downloaded the message and decrypted it.

  Chuck could not believe his eyes. Contract on Sheriff Chet Thurman. Name price. Bonus for his family. His agent suggested seven figures plus expenses and twenty-five percent as a bonus.

  Chuck no longer wanted to kill Thurman and certainly not his family. However, the money could insure him a comfortable “retirement.” A plan quickly formed in his mind and he encrypted a response.

  Because of the risk of carrying out a second job so soon in the same location, he needed ten million dollars, half paid up front, plus expenses. Two and half million for the bonus - half up front. And then he encrypted a second message for his agent only. All he could do now was wait.

  Chet carried the bag into the dark room in his basement. Over the years he had accumulated a great deal photography equipment and skill. He learned to develop his own film while attending the academy. Since that time he had become an avid amateur photographer.

  In a couple of hours, it would take an expert to tell the difference between the originals and the copies. Chet had no doubt that the Ravens would try to steal or destroy the photos and the tape as soon as they learned of their existence. He was also pretty certain they would find out. The Ravens would throw money around until they found someone willing to talk. If Chet had learned anything in his lifetime it was that for enough money there was always someone willing to talk.

  The Ravens had people everywhere and this was explosive evidence. Not only would the image of the now martyred Jack be forever be sullied, there was still the matter of him being tied to an active murder investigation.

  As Chet developed the pictures of Tackett and the woman/man known as Monique, he decided to enlarge a couple of images. What looked like a smudge in one photo turned out to be a purplish-colored birthmark on the inside of the right wrist. “Interesting. That could be helpful,” Chet said to himself as he finished the copies. He clipped the photos up to dry. He was prepared to make a copy of the tape when he got an idea.

  Chet laughed as he picked up his camcorder.

  ***

  Cyprus waited in the parking lot of the Stone City Food World supermarket. The man he needed to talk was inside. Shopping for one after shopping for a family of five for so many years had to be a difficult chore, Cyprus imagined. He looked up as the rain beat down the middle aged man braved the rain and carried two bags to his car without an umbrella.

  Cyprus jumped with a golf umbrella and rushed over and held it over the man as opened his trunk.

  “Thanks, but I'm pretty much soaked already,” he said with a friendly enough smile.

  “True but I need to speak to you about a matter of utmost importance Deputy,” Cyprus said.

  He eyed the stranger with the umbrella warily.

  “I don't know who you are mister, but —,” Cyprus cut him off.

  “I'm a friend. If you're willing to sit in my car, out of the rain and weather, I think you'll see that,” he said.

  The off-duty officer eyed him.

  “Forgive me if I don't trust you,” he said.

  “What if I could provide a way for you to get your wife and kids back,” Cyprus said, choosing to use his biggest weapon first.

  The officer hesitated.

  “I'm listening,” he said.

  “Just give me five minutes,” Cyprus pleaded.

  “Five minutes. And this had better be on the level,” the officer said.

  Cyprus gave hi
m his best TV anchorman smile and led him to the waiting silver Toyota Corolla.

  They got and closed the doors and Cyprus handed him an unsealed envelope. The officer took it and looked inside.

  “That's a lot of money,” he said.

  “No, that's ten thousand dollars, the proverbial tip of the iceberg. I have four more envelopes just like it in the glove compartment,” Cyprus said.

  “What do you want?” The officer asked.

  “Well, Joe, just hear me out. I understand you and your wife are having some problems of a financial nature. This and another fifty thousand might make most of those problems go away,” Cyprus said.

  The man was listening. That was good.

  “A hundred thousand dollars in exchange for information. That's all I want,” Cyprus said. “You don't have to break any laws or betray any friends.”

  “What kind of information?” Joe asked.

  “You were one of the officers that came out to serve a search warrant on Jack Raven. What were you looking for?” Cyprus asked.

  “Mister, you're barking up the wrong tree. I'm just a road officer. I'm not privy to evidence,” Joe said.

  “You had to know what to look for,” Cyprus said.

  Joe thought for a moment and looked at the envelope.

  “We were looking for anything that would tie Jack Raven to Savanna Brooke,” he said.

  “Define anything,” Cyprus said.

  “Letters, pictures, movies, even DNA - anything that could prove a relationship between the two of them,” Joe said.

  “And if your department has evidence, where would it be kept?” Cyprus asked.

  Joe hesitated again.

  “You're so close to a hundred thousand dollars,” Cyprus said.

  “Probably locked in the safe of the CID Office on the third floor of the courthouse,” Joe said.

  Cyprus smiled again and handed Joe a grocery bag. He filled it with all five envelopes.

  “You'll have the balance tomorrow. A package will be delivered to your home in the morning,” Cyprus said.

  Joe gripped the bag and stepped back out into the bleak weather. He hoped the cold rain would wash away at least some of the dirty feeling from his soul as he walked to his car.

  ***

  Haley woke up from her nap just before six o'clock. She dozed off during the promised massage. After the stress of the past few days it felt great to let go and be totally relaxed. She rolled over to find an empty spot next to her.

  In the floor next to the bed was the flannel shirt she wore the night before. The maple hardwood floor felt cool on her feet as she slipped on the shirt and walked to the bedroom door and walked down the hall to the living room.

  Beau was stacking a few logs by the fire place. A small fire flickered. She leaned against the wall and watched him. He was still wearing the clothes from earlier that day - jeans, hiking boots, and a green flannel shirt.

  Beau turned and saw her leaning against the wall with her arms folded below her more than ample breasts. She wore only his flannel shirt. It was unbuttoned and her lovely black hair was unbrushed. Haley reached up with her right hand and twirled her hair on her index finger.

  He was thunderstruck — again.

  “I can't believe you let me sleep for three hours,” she said, trying to sound upset but not quite pulling it off.

  Beau walked toward her.

  “I didn't have the heart to wake you up. You needed the rest,” he said as reached for her and pulled her into his body. “I hope you're not mad at me.”

  With her left hand she reached up and patted his chest.

  “No, I'm not mad. It's just that I won't get much sleep tonight,” she said.

  He squeezed her tightly.

  “I know. I likely won't either,” Beau said.

  She looked up at him and arched an eyebrow.

  He scooped her up and carried her to the living room.

  “I thought you might like a fire - it's cold enough for it. We're supposed to have rain all night and the temps are going to fall into the mid to upper thirties,” Beau said, still holding her.

  Even with the small blaze, she could feel the added heat. Then again, maybe it wasn't the fire.

  “It is nice. But, uh, do you plan on standing here and holding me all night?” Haley asked.

  “I'm sorry,” he said as he sat her on the couch. “I just enjoy holding you.”

  “So, did you have anything in mind for tonight?” She asked as she started to unbutton his shirt.

  “I thought I might see what I could do to help you sleep tonight,” Beau said as she pulled the shirt off of him.

  “How thoughtful,” Haley said as their lips met.

  ***

  “Everything is set. It's not going to be cheap. You could probably have three presidents killed cheaper,” Cyprus said as he and Gene sat in the library.

  “If it makes you feel any better, I lobbied for you do the job but the old man wouldn't have it,” Gene said.

  “I appreciate your confidence. I think I would enjoyed killing Thurman and his niece — especially her,” Cyprus said.

  Gene nodded.

  “How about the other thing?” He asked.

  “It seems they were searching for anything - photos, letters, etc. - that would tie your brother to Ms. Brooke,” Cyprus said.

  “That's just Thurman trying to hurt my family. He knows Jack didn't kill her but he also apparently knows Jack was screwing her. If that comes out before I'm offered the nomination it could really bad for us - and by us, I mean me,” Gene said.

  “Of course sir. The good news is I know where the evidence they have is located. That evidence will be in your possession by morning,” Cyprus said.

  “Excellent,” Gene said.

  ***

  When Chuck decrypted the e-mail he couldn't help but smile. They agreed to his price. Half of his fee — minus the cut for his agent — was already in one of his Cayman accounts.

  He had plenty in the bank in Chicago to transfer to a Tennessee bank and start a new life as Dr. Adam C. Eastland. Chuck even had the PhD from Northwestern to support himself. He had also checked into several jobs over the course of the afternoon. Baker Community College in Stone City had several faculty openings, including one in the history department.

  Chuck had also been thinking about his appearance. There was more than a passing resemblance between him and Beau. It could be argued away as a mere coincidence but he decided he didn't want to take that chance. A goatee and glasses would help. Keeping his hair so closely cropped at just longer than Army regs might be another step into changing his look. Of course his hair was more silver than brown and he guessed his beard would be as well. Oddly, his eyebrows remained dark, so maybe his beard would come in the same way. But, that wasn't his primary concern at the moment.

  He now needed to get a place in Stone City and start some serious surveillance. Before Raven figured out that the Thurman hit wasn't going to happen, he would be as dead as his brother.

  Chapter Nine

  “Yes Ted, that's exactly what I'm saying. The only real choice for the Republican Party is Gene Raven,” Jefferson said.

  “Come now General, what are his qualifications other than being the brother of the slain candidate?” Asked Ted Hollings, a left-leaning panelist on “Addressing the Issues,” Knoxville-based political talk show.

  “He's been the highly successful CEO of a Fortune 500 company for the past twenty years. He managed the congressional campaign of his late brother Tom as well as the Senate campaign of his slain brother Jack. Need I remind you that Jack Raven was leading Mayor Kirby in the polls by a margin of 67-29 percent? Gene understands the issues inside and out,” Jefferson argued.

  “But is he not also a personal friend of yours?” Ted asked.

  “Of course he is. If I recall, he's a friend of yours too and other Democrats across this state. The fact remains there's not a better candidate in the state — including your personal friend, Mayor
Kirby. To choose anyone else would be tantamount to changing horses in mid-stream,” Jefferson countered.

  “If he were offered the nomination do you think he would accept it?” Asked Todd Irvin, a former Republican gubernatorial nominee from Dickson.

  “I can't speak for Gene. Only he can answer that question. I know he's grieving the loss of a brother right now but the Raven family has a strong sense of duty and a commitment to public service,” Jefferson said.

  “What would you say to the charges that it isn't fair to give Mr. Raven the nomination, that one of the candidates who lost in the GOP Primary should be offered the opportunity?” Ted asked.

  “I would remind the people making those charges that those candidates lost badly to Jack Raven in a primary campaign managed by Gene Raven. Furthermore —” the host tried to cut him off, “Please, Larry this is important. What is the ultimate purpose of picking a nominee? It's to find someone who will win. Gene Raven is a winner,” Jefferson answered.

  “Thank you General,” the host said as Gene turned the television off.

  He looked over at Dal and smiled.

  “I'd say Jeff hit a home run,” Gene said.

  “Make sure that exchange goes statewide,” Dal said.

  “Party leadership is expected to officially announce a decision at noon day after tomorrow,” Gene said.

  “Which means we should know something tomorrow night at the latest,” Dal said.

  “By the way, the Ghost has confirmed but it's an outrageous fee - even for this kind of job,” Gene said.

  “I know. I asked D.C. earlier. But we can count on him to take care of the problem for us. In the meantime, I understand D.C. is going after the evidence,” Dal said.

  “Tonight — unless he has to abort for some reason. When we get our hands on it we'll know exactly what Jack left behind,” Gene said.

  “And how damaging it might have been,” Dal said.

  ***

  Shortly after midnight, Cyprus gave the signal and Liam pulled the trigger. The transformer exploded and courthouse square went black. In the darkness, Cyprus quickly picked the lock on the double glass doors at the back entrance. He and Liam went inside.

  They wore dark masks and night vision goggles. They quickly found the stairs and quickly climbed the three flights. Liam kept a Browning 9 mm equipped with a sound suppressor at the ready. Cyprus carried Taser. He hoped neither weapon would have to be used.