Gabriel's Revenge (The Adventures of Gabriel Celtic Book 2)

by J. T. Lewis

  There was one huge difference I could see immediately though. In The Ghost Murders, we did not have any idea that we had an inside person, nor that she was actually leading the killer’s actions. If what I was thinking was true this time however, I at least knew up front that there may be a leak somewhere, and I may be able to use that to my advantage …somehow.

  Frank would have kept his most pertinent notes in his notebook, which of course was missing. Frank and I had both always kept our best stuff in our notebooks, leaving them close to our vest until such time as we felt comfortable entering the info into the file.

  Following suit and pulling out my own notebook, I prepared to start entering information into it. The investigation was already getting complicated, and I was just getting started.

  Murders, unknown informants, and no apparent reason for said murders. And yet, it seemed they could be deadly quick to react to interference in their plans. I would have to take extra precautions this time around, and I may not be able to count on any help either. After all, who could I trust?

  “What did you get yourself into old friend?”

  “What did you find?”

  “What’s the common thread in all of this?”

  Thinking of my partner and his tenacious investigative skills, I could think of just one thing to say to him.

  “I sure could use your help on this one old buddy!”

  Chapter 23

  August 25, 1998

  I had spent the last two days going over the files, possibly every one a murder if only I could figure out the thread that Frank had found. I had decided to go into the office today and get with Allen to see if Frank had discussed anything pertinent when he had asked for the exhumation orders.

  Surely he had given Allen a compelling reason to get him to sign off and approach a judge; I doubted he would let it happen with just a gut feeling. Allen was nothing if not detail oriented as far as the law goes, making sure the T’s were crossed and the I’s were dotted.

  Once I knew for sure what Frank’s lawfully recognized reasoning was, I had a couple of the cases I thought we could proceed with. The only reason I could give Allen at the moment though was that considering what Frank had already found, there was a great likelihood that these would also end up as foul play.

  That was the ‘what’; the ‘why’ still eluded me. So far, I had found no connection of any kind that would bring these people even into the same room, much less being able to tie them together in any kind of a way that they would be murdered for it

  Then there was the other thing I had to deal with, the knowledge that almost certainly there was information leaking out of the investigations. Whether it was a partner in the crimes, or just someone with loose lips was also yet to be determined.

  However you looked at it, the findings, and maybe even the investigation itself needed to be kept almost completely under wraps. I’m not sure I would even trust Allen himself if I hadn’t known him for so long.

  No, I had to trust Allen, if for no other reason than the fact that he is the only one left that I could trust. He was the only person left to me that had ever exceeded my expectations in what was once a pretty good list of friends.

  Truth be known, I felt pretty alone right about then, not that it bothered me all that much at that point. Being my friend as of late didn’t seem to be the best remedy for one’s health. Besides, I had Frank’s gut instinct leading the way in this investigation, and that was not something to be taken lightly.

  Gathering up the files, I replaced them in the carton before carrying it to the spare bedroom on the first floor. Setting down the box, I opened the closet door and got down on my knees. Removing a few items off the floor of the closet, I then reached to the back wall of the closet, grabbed the rug and pulled it toward me.

  Removing the carpet revealed a hidden door in the floor, one that only a few people had ever known about, me being the only one still alive. I removed the key from my pocket and inserted it into the recessed lock, turning it one complete turn counterclockwise.

  Raising the door revealed a small storage area under the floor that my grandfather had installed years ago. Being approximately 2’ wide by 3’ long, the homemade safe was his answer to the high cost of a real safe during the depression. Constructed of concrete blocks, the floor was poured concrete on a base of four foot of small rocks and gravel. It had always been completely dry, and was a perfect place to keep records or valuables.

  Considering the way the case was going, I had decided last night that it was in mine and the case’s best interest to hide the evidence from any prying eyes until I got a handle on where the leak was. I would keep my notebook with me while I was actively working the investigation, but would also hide it if need be.

  Putting the closet back in order, I took the key to the upstairs bathroom, hiding it inside the tank on the toilet with a wire. I was not up on all this cloak and dagger, and felt almost silly doing it, but the rational part of my mind had worked out these few precautions, and I believed that anything I could do to gain an advantage at this point was a good thing.

  Pocketing my notebook, I started to head out of the house before reversing step as I quickly decided to take my Glock. I was going to have to get used to carrying it again I thought, might as well get back in the habit. Opening the kitchen drawer where I had always kept it, my eyes locked on the well-oiled leather shoulder holster also kept there. I realized that wearing a shoulder holster was no longer an option for me. I had no intention of wearing a sport coat or suit in the current version of my life; I had no one to impress but dead people. I was pretty sure that they didn’t care one way or another.

  Shoving the gun into the waistband at my back, I determined to find a more suitable holster sometime in the future. Grabbing my keys, I exited the house and locked it, walking down the steps and over to the cars. I had one stop to make before going to see Allen, and it was long overdue.

  As I approached the Jeep, Betty’s Jeep, I had to smile. This piece of steel and rubber was one of the great joys of her life. Whenever she drove it, it was more than just transportation to her; it was a whole experience unto itself. She would bundle up in extra coats in the fall just so she could leave the doors off for a few more weeks. And I don’t know how many times she had gotten soaking wet because she had refused to put the top back on, even on a cloudy day.

  It seemed fitting that I should drive this considering my destination. Betty had been waiting too long for a visit, and I was anxious to talk to her again. I suppose it was remorse that had kept me away for these couple of days, the guilt over leaving, and in the process letting Frank die with no one watching his back. Although I could rationalize that it may have still happened had I been here, there was a part of me that would always feel responsible for the death of my friend.

  Getting in I turned the key and the engine roared to life, the deep throated exhaust rumbling happily behind me. I caressed the shifter for a few moments before pushing in the clutch and slipping it into gear. I made the decision right then that I may as well sell the other car; there was no way I would be driving anything else from that moment on.

  Backing out of the driveway, I let Betty’s chariot take me to her, both of us seemingly anxious to get there without further delay.

  Chapter 24

  August 25, 1998

  “Hello Mike! How’s everything in your world today?”

  “Pretty fantastic, beautiful day isn’t it?”

  “Indeed! The Lord has blessed us with a cooler than average day for this time of year; I feel truly thankful for all of us to be experiencing it.”

  “Amen to that brother.”

  “Say, how’s that thing going we discussed before? I wouldn’t bother you, but you know how I love a good mystery. I don’t have much mystery in my work as you know; so I live vicariously through you in that respect.”

  “It’s been on the back burner for awhile now,” Mike said smiling. “Although, I have heard scuttlebutt that
Allen Vanguard may have brought someone in special to work on it.”

  “I see, someone from the FBI perhaps?”

  “Don’t quote me on this; I haven’t heard anything directly, but I believe it is one of his old investigators, guy by the name of Gabriel Celtic.”

  “Ah, an angelic name indeed. Do you know of this man Gabriel?”

  “Not personally, only what I have heard through the grapevine. He left the area before I moved here. I have heard though that he was a top notch investigator.”

  “So now we have a mystery within a mystery; thank you Mike, this should keep my imagination working for awhile longer.”

  “There is one other thing I have heard, maybe a good reason Allen Vanguard would have called Celtic back to work on this particular investigation.”

  “Besides that he is reputed to be an excellent investigator?”

  “Yes, besides that, it has been said that he is… err was, a very close friend of Frank Luther.”

  “Ah, the one that died a few months back.”

  “Yes, they figured out that he was murdered after all.”

  “Really…”

  “Yep, poisoning, found a prick on his neck where it had been injected.”

  “I had no idea.”

  “Well, there’s my lovely wife, waving at me like a crazy lady to hurry up. I guess I’ll see you next week, got to get to the restaurant and get in line for the buffet.”

  “Yes Mike, I’ll catch up some more next week. Have a blessed day.”

  “You as well…see you later.”

  Chapter 25

  August 25, 1998

  Pulling into the cemetery, I was surprised by the number of people milling around, all dressed to the nines in nice clothes. My mind struggled to muddle through the last few days as I tried to fathom what day it actually was, finally realizing that it was a Sunday, and that most of these people were coming from church.

  I guess that put a damper on my plans, although I wasn’t really looking forward to visiting the office anyway. I could spend a few more minutes instead with Betty, then go back to my files and delve further into the investigation.

  As I slowly meandered through the beautiful cemetery, I was struck by the divergent emotions that I saw on the faces that I passed. Some were in full fledged mourning, while others were happily tending to the grave stones while they carried on a normal conversation with other members of their family.

  Would I ever get to a point where I could smile in this place? Accept that she was gone and move on, guilt free and happy?

  I didn’t see it happening anytime soon, Betty’s death was deeply engrained in my soul at the moment. I was ok with that…for now. In fact, I thought I needed it at that moment, needed to let the emotions and the need for revenge keep me sharp for this investigation.

  I pulled off the road and turned off the Jeep. I reached over into the other seat and lifted the single daylily off of it. I had picked the flower before leaving the house, it had been Betty’s favorite, and this may be the last bloom of the year.

  Getting out of the car, I walked the thirty yards to her grave stone in silence. When I got there, I put the flower into the built-in vase, and then filled it with water from a bottle I had brought with me. When I thought everything was presentable, I sat down on the concrete bench in front of her grave.

  “Hi kid,” I said with a sad smile. “I guess by now you know I’m back.”

  I waited, half expecting to hear an answer, but of course I received none. I reached forward and brushed off some grass clippings while I mulled over what else I wanted to say.

  Hearing laughter, I looked over to see a grandmother and two grandkids loudly approaching, the youngsters taking everything in with wonder as they walked past. The grandmother saw me sitting there and gave me a polite smile as she passed. I continued to watch them as they slowly walked toward another grave down the way.

  “I guess that was you in the lightning the other day, unless I was just dreaming of course. You always did like to make a grand entrance,” I said smiling just a little.

  Thoughts of Betty entering the room with a ‘ta-da’ as she showed off some new item of clothing, and a few times with no clothing at all, lifted my heart higher than it had been in awhile and I reveled in the feeling.

  After I sat there for awhile however, the smile gradually disappeared as it was slowly replaced by a dark cloud of emotion. My faith was weakened as I tried to rationalize talking to a stone…“stones can’t talk you idiot,” I said to myself in frustration. Sadness was creeping its way back into my soul, the kind of sadness that made your heart want to stop beating in your chest.

  I was out of place here; I didn’t deserve happy memories until I figured out what had happened to Frank.

  I shifted my weight to rise, only to find that I seemed held to the seat. Something was holding me down; I could almost feel the pressure on my shoulders.

  I was confused, and a little miffed truth be known; I was ready to leave.

  Just then, a touch, a light touch on the cheek… “Betty?”

  My heart lifted once more, and I relaxed as the touch, and the pressure on my shoulders disappeared, no longer feeling the need to leave immediately. We just sat there together, Betty and I, enjoying each other’s company in silence for an hour.

  Chapter 26

  August 25, 1998

  I left the cemetery and headed back to the house, my spirits uplifted. Although I felt better emotionally than I had for a long time, I was immediately put off by the blaring of the ringing phone that greeted me as I entered the door.

  Walking over to the wall phone in the kitchen, I lifted up the receiver and answered a little gruffly, “Celtic.”

  “Gabe, it’s me, Abby…how you doing?”

  I was surprised to hear from my new young friend, one of the only people I had interacted with since being back. I told her that I was fine, and questioned her about her health.

  “Oh I’m fine, thanks. Say, you doing anything for lunch?”

  I had just realized that I was getting hungry on the way home, and my peanut butter staple of the last few days was getting old. I really needed to get to the store.

  I told her that I really didn’t have plans, and she asked if I would be interested in meeting her at Lenny’s, one of my old haunts. The thought of a Stromboli instantly made my mouth water, and I readily agreed to meet her there in twenty minutes.

  Hanging up the phone, I found that I was looking forward to the lunch more than I had looked forward to anything in ages. This day was turning out better than I had hoped.

  I had a few minutes to kill, but not enough to drag out the files to work on them. I pulled out my notebook, and started looking through the names I had listed of the numerous victims I was investigating. I still needed to find a connection between victims, if that was indeed what they were.

  I moved through the list once more, again coming to the conclusion that I knew none of them personally. I did, however recognize one of the last names as an old familiar one in our community. Maybe some of the family that I knew would be able to give me a direction, if they were indeed related.

  Looking at my watch revealed that it was time to leave for lunch. I stuck my gun back in the drawer, and decided to take the time to deposit my notebook into the safe. I shouldn’t need it for the next few hours, as I had made the decision to stop by the store on the way home.

  My stomach was growling when I finally left the house, thankfully it was a short drive to the restaurant.

  ***

  Abby waved me down as I entered the eatery, not hard to do in the small space that is Lenny’s. Coming around the table as I approached, she once again hugged me like I was a long lost friend. Still not used to the over familiarity of the girl, I was slowly getting a little used to it as I hugged her back in return.

  As we sat down, she started exclaiming how hungry she was, and that she loved the sandwiches here. Figuring out what we wanted, we went up to the counte
r to order. At the cash register, she started digging through her purse while I handed the attendant my card. I waved off her objections as she complained that she had intended to pay; it had been her idea after all.

  I told her that it had been a great idea, and that was payment enough. She grudgingly accepted my offer, warning me that it was her turn next time we ate anywhere.

  We took our seats and Abby started chatting away, asking if I had gotten settled in ok and if I needed any help with anything.

  I responded that I was doing fine, and that I appreciated her offer.

  Our name was called then, and Abby jumped up to retrieve our lunch before I could scoot out my chair. When she returned with the sandwiches, we dug in with a passion, not bothering with talk for a few minutes as we happily devoured the food.

  After we had cleaned up our plates, Abby suddenly left for the counter again, soon returning with two cups of steaming hot coffee.

  I really liked the way this girl thought.

  Setting one of the cups in front of me, she took her seat again, seeming fully relaxed as she looked at me with a smile.

  “So, how’s your work going?” she asked me out of the blue.

  Since we had never discussed what I did in this world when we talked before, I was a little surprised that she would assume I had gone back to work already, maybe even a little suspicious.

  “How do you know I’ve been working?” I asked, confused.

  “It’s all over at my job,” she said matter-of-factly.

  More than a little concerned at multitudes of people knowing what I was doing, I asked her where she worked.

  “I’m a crime scene photographer, hired by the county about a year ago. It’s more of a part-time job really, even though I work with the Sheriff, the Prosecutor, and even some with Allenville PD. Allen Vanguard mentioned he had brought you back to work on a case. I assumed it was Frank Luther’s murder; I heard you two were friends.”