In Case of Death (The Adventures of Gabriel Celtic Book 3)

by J. T. Lewis

  She had yet to reach her full height for the day; due I’m sure to the many sprained and sore muscles from the night before. The bandage wrapped around her neck reminded me of a cheap turtleneck.

  Her wild hair looked like it hadn’t seen a comb in a couple of days, and her black eyes gave her the look of a raccoon. The only thing that seemed normal about my beautiful daughter was the huge grin on her face.

  Seeming to become aware for the first time of the strangers around the table, she dropped her grin.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, while making her way slowly into the kitchen, “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “Gentlemen…this is my daughter, Abby.”

  Julien Taylor gave me a confused look before immediately standing and turning toward Abby. With his hand outstretched, “It is indeed a pleasure to meet you my dear, my name is Julien Taylor.”

  “Ahhhh…. Professor Julien Taylor?” Abby asked as she took his hand in hers.

  “The very same,” Julien answered brightly, “and this irredeemable fellow is my associate, Dr. Franklin Buff.”

  Dr. Buff turned and nodded curtly before returning to his tea.

  “My, those are some exquisite shiners my dear!” Julien stated with admiration.

  “Abby was beside me through much of last night’s activities,” I stated in explanation. “The man we were hunting…lets just say he didn’t go down easily.”

  “Indeed!” Julien smiled, grabbing Abby’s elbow and leading her to an empty chair beside him. “Allow me the honor of fetching you some tea my dear…or do you prefer coffee?”

  “Coffee please,” Abby replied brightly.

  “I must admit Abby,” Julien started before he turned and made his way to the coffee pot, “I was not aware of your existence before today. It’s quite a pleasant surprise actually!”

  Julien’s statement shocked me! Although I too had not been aware of Abby’s existence during my time with the professor, she was such a natural part of my life now that I hadn’t given a thought to any kind of explanation.

  “Abby and I actually met each other on the plane ride back from Peru,” I explained. “She was an angel, sent to help a grieving, washed up old man regain his life.”

  Julien grinned as he brought her coffee cup to her. Setting the cup on the table, he bent over and placed a kiss on top of her head.

  “Thank you my dear,” he said sincerely. “You have not only helped Gabriel, but relieved a nagging worry that has been tugging at my heart for the past year.”

  Abby had a tear in her eye as Julien then took his seat. I reached across the table and grabbed Abby’s hand, squeezing it until hearing the “ouch!”

  “That hurts too?” I questioned.

  “Everything hurts!” Abby moaned with a grin, “But it was worth it!”

  I saw out of the corner of my eye that Dr. Buff actually rolled his eyes at our exchange.

  I smiled.

  “We were just discussing something of great import with your father,” Julien added suddenly. “It just occurred to me that you stepping into his life at that particular moment, arguably the lowest point of his life may also have been preordained. Considering the facts that we have uncovered so far, I believe Gabriel calling you an angel earlier may not be that far away from the truth!”

  Abby grinned again, looking over at me before speaking.

  “Yeah…about that…”

  ***

  “You still haven’t convinced me this is anything more than a wild theory!” I had ignored Abby’s questioning look, addressing the two men across from me.

  “A theory based on a two thousand year old prediction, written on a scroll that has been buried for a millennium or more.” Julien looked up from his tea, “I am not surprised by your reluctance my dear boy, it is ‘out there’ as the kids say today.”

  “But considering everything you have seen and heard today,” he continued, “Can you at least recognize that it is conceivable? That the world could have certain, shall we say, cataclysms that could be foretold…that could be preordained?”

  “Not to mention what Preacher said…”

  All eyes turned to Abby.

  “Preacher?” Julien asked, “He is a pious man?”

  “Of a sorts,” I finally answered with a grin, trying to fathom how best to describe our partner.

  “The point is, he saw and recognized the angel mark on the back of Gabe’s neck.” Abby spoke seriously. “He said there was a lot of lore about it in some religious writings, and that no one has seen one on anyone for like, a thousand years.”

  I glanced at my daughter questionably.

  “We had a talk,” she replied with a grin in answer to my look.

  “Splendid!” Julien crowed, “We should get him involved in this discussion!”

  I held up my hand.

  “Hold up everybody!”

  All eyes were on me then, the room silent. I took a few moments to gather my thoughts.

  “You can surely understand that I may need a little time to digest all of this. Even if I did believe it, we have to meet with our clients this morning.”

  “Not a problem my boy,” Julien said as he stood from his chair.

  “Let me call a cab, and I’ll see if I can find a room to put up in until later.”

  “I can help with that!” Abby exclaimed as she slowly worked her way out of her chair and headed for the phone.

  “Abby will fix you right up,” I added, “She’s a genius at arranging things like this!”

  “Excellent!” Julien espoused. “When would you like us to return my boy?”

  I mentally clicked off in my head all that we had to do today.

  Today was not a good day at all for this crap!

  “How about 6:00? I’ll pick up something for supper on my way back.”

  I was not surprised at the distasteful look that crossed Dr. Buff’s face. “I will arrive at 5:00 and prepare the meal myself,” he stated simply, if not sternly. “Your American fast food disgusts me.”

  The subject settled in his mind, he stood from his chair.

  “I assume that I will have access to the facilities at 5:00?”

  I nodded. “Key’s under the mat if we aren’t home yet.”

  Nodding tiredly, “Come Julien, I am exhausted from our travels.”

  Julien came around the table, grabbing my left hand with his right and placing his left on my shoulder.

  “It is so good to see you again my boy!”

  Patting my shoulder a couple of times, “Exciting things to discuss, exciting things indeed!”

  With that he turned, making his way to his luggage sitting inside the door. I recognized the spring in his step as he walked away, I had seen it a few times while we were in South America.

  He had it every time he was on the verge of a major discovery.

  I wish that I could drum up half the excitement that my old friend seemed to have!

  Copyright 2013/2014 by J.T. Lewis

  Check out a preview of the new series, The Artifact Hunter! It’s a new NA (New Adult) Action/Adventure that was released in November, 2013, with the second story coming in the spring of 2014!

  The Artifact Hunter!

  The Artifact Hunter

  By

  J.T. Lewis

  Copyright 2013 by J.T. Lewis

  March 1777

  New York Colony

  The man in the red uniform glanced around nervously, noticing the horse’s breath freezing in wisps of mist in the early morning light.

  The night had turned cold again, dropping down below freezing after the sunny spring weather of the previous day. Sergeant James Turner pulled his wrap tighter around himself, breathing his hot breath into his gloved fists to try to warm his frozen hands.

  “Blimey! Will this trek never end?” he mumbled to himself for the hundredth time.

  Turner’s old mare tripped suddenly on a frozen clod of soil. Tensing quickly, the Sergeant gripped his legs tightly around the hor
se as he pulled back on the reins.

  “Whoa Gertrude…steady there old girl.”

  Regaining control, Turner glanced to his right, shivering at the thought of dropping into the partially frozen bog beside him.

  Blasted country! he thought angrily as he tapped his heels into Gertrude’s flank, getting her moving again. Although he was dreadfully cold, James Turner was thankful for the frozen ground below him, preferring it to the slimy mud of the previous day.

  Ordered by his major to make his way north along the Swamp Road for this special mission, he quietly questioned the logic of the plan and the sanity of the officer. The major had calculated that he would be less likely to be observed in the swamp, but he had to know that this route would take three times as long to traverse.

  Didn’t he?

  Turner shrugged his shoulders while trying to get comfortable on the saddle. He hadn’t obtained the rank of sergeant by questioning his superior’s orders, but sometimes he wondered why he cared.

  The pompous and elitist Royals and their clans ruled the Army by the mere fact of their lineage. It was a system that had been in place for centuries, and even God himself couldn’t seem to change that fact, Turner thought testily.

  His thoughts turned to the colonies and the people that lived within. He now believed that the citizens of this country must be the most determined lot he had ever run across, and he was in awe of their fortitude.

  They call themselves Americans, he reflected with a smile, and they had the bollocks to challenge the king himself!

  And don’t forget about the land!

  Discounting his current location of course, the abundance of the beautiful and fertile commodity was mindboggling!

  When the news had hit that the colonials were seeking independence from the mother country, his whole regiment had laughed at the thought. They had been certain that a quick foray across the Atlantic would quickly squelch such a notion.

  So far however, this expedition had been anything but short. Now Turner himself was starting to have second thoughts on the matter.

  Maybe these backcountry hill climbers had something going on here after all!

  Turner continued to reflect on the vast expanses of farmland that could be had for a fair price, something unheard of in England. He had also noticed the industriousness of the people in the cities, proudly starting their own businesses and working at them with a fervor that seemed lacking back home.

  But the biggest implement of change in Turner’s thinking were the actions of his army’s officers themselves. The longer the regiment stayed in the colonies, the farther the commanders of his unit seemed to slide away from reality.

  “The colonials wouldn’t fight according to the rules,” he had heard them exclaim more than once.

  Used to a standard of living based on royal privilege and comfort, the officers were now spending months at a time in the field. Being this far from the palatial estates where they were raised seemed to be more than any of them had bargained for.

  Turner suddenly stopped his horse to listen.

  Hearing something off to his left, he quietly eyed the sparse vegetation around him. Years in the field had taught him that even the smallest noise could be a threat. After a few minutes of hearing or seeing nothing however, he nudged Gertrude forward along the thin path.

  He dismissed the thoughts of his idiot officers as he let a smile draw on his lips. He realized that he could do much worse than making a home here in the colonies. Though they had been in the back of his mind for weeks, this was the first time that he had allowed these treasonous thoughts to come to the fore.

  If he lived long enough to make it back home, he would put in for separation from his unit and begin drawing his meager pension. He definitely had enough time, and no one would fault him for getting out after serving with distinction in the Colonial War.

  Sergeant James Turner grinned. For the first time in his life he had a reason to look past his time in the service of the king!

  While lost in these joyous thoughts, Turner didn’t hear the faint noise to his left.

  The click that should have alerted him to the danger of the rifle’s hammer being cocked was ignored. Nor did he notice the flash of the primer in the pan as the hammer came down into it and filled the air with light. The old horse took yet another step before the boom of the ignited gunpowder escaped the muzzle, the hot gasses propelling the lead ball into the side of Sergeant Turner’s head.

  In those last fleeting moments, as he was sliding off of the side of the horse his thoughts didn’t linger on regret. Instead, his final thoughts were of the newfound joy he felt over his decision.

  Quietly slipping into the bog, the lips retained the smile. The now eerie grin was all that remained of the newborn freedom that he had so recently claimed during the last seconds of his life.

  ***

  Present Day

  Jesse Flanagan was in high spirits as he pulled in front of the old shop.

  The mysterious voicemail he had received from his cantankerous friend late last night sounded promising, if not a bit cryptic.

  Come down to de shop in the mornink me boy, I do believe aw have some good noos for you on both counts! I keep your package safe, heya in my shawp overnight, buried under Atlantic Avenuse.

  Abraham always reverted to a weird combination of Hebrew- and New York-accented English when he was excited, but good noos in this business almost always meant good money. The cryptic reference to Atlantic Avenue still had Jesse stumped, however.

  Jesse shrugged his shoulders. He usually dismissed most of Abraham’s rantings as a rule of thumb anyway. His friend’s advancing age combined with the large portion of time that he had spent alone had left Abraham Kohen more quirky than normal.

  But Jesse had indeed left a package with Abe the previous day to see if the old man could come up with a value for two items of interest. One was an old document, the other a picture of a desk.

  The aging Jewish antique dealer loved doing that kind of thing, plus he had a lot more patience than Jesse could ever muster for it.

  Of course, Jesse paid him well for his valuations, as nobody did anything for free in this business. Truth be known however, that wasn’t the only reason he continued to bring work to the old man. Over the years, Jesse had actually come to truly like the cantankerous old man, seeing him as the closest thing to a father figure that he had ever had.

  Humming happily as he turned off the van, Jesse unfolded his 5’10” frame out the driver’s door and made his way around the front of the truck. Flexing his lean muscles as he walked in an attempt to overcome the previous hour’s drive, Jesse saw something that caused him to stop in his tracks.

  A small, jagged hole in the shop’s front door glass put him instantly on alert. Looking up and down the sidewalk to make sure he wasn’t being observed, he then crossed the sidewalk and slowly pushed inside the shop.

  The place was a mess!

  “Somebody’s cleaned him out,” Jesse exclaimed under his breath, knowing that it was but one of the many plagues of big city life.

  Shrugging again, he called out to his friend.

  “How bad of a hurt did they put on you, Abe?” he yelled as he walked farther into the front room of the store. Glancing around, he saw that several of Abe’s antiques had been severely damaged.

  He was never going to hear the end of Abe’s ranting now!

  “Hey Abraham! Where ya at, you cantankerous old sot? We already agreed on a price for the valuation you know, so don’t be expecting a bonus just because someone broke up all of your stuff!”

  Although spoken with a smile, Jesse was beginning to get a little worried as he continued to walk through the front part of the severely damaged store. Having scoped out the whole of the shop, he decided to head to the rear of the store.

  “You hiding out back here?” Jesse called out before making his way through the old fabric that Abe used as a door to the back room.

  “Don’t be hitti
ng me with that old baseball bat of yours either!”

  He was laughing as he spoke this, but as the curtains dropped away from his face he almost lost his breakfast at the sight before him. Sitting on a stool in front of him sat Abe with his shirt covered in blood!

  “Abe!” Jesse shouted as he moved quickly toward the old man. Laying his finger on the cold, dead neck of the man, he then realized Abraham was many hours past hearing him.

  Jesse jumped back quickly with the frightening realization that he had touched a dead body.

  It was his first.

  “Aw Jesus, Abe,” he whispered softly as he backed away slowly, “Who’d ya piss off this time?”

  Copyright 2013-2015 by J.T. Lewis

  Acknowledgements:

  I have so many people to thank for helping me get to this point!

  Firstly of course to my wonderful wife Susan, whose constant support and patience is a real inspiration.

  I would like to thank author K.R. Jordan for being my Alpha reader. Although we each read each other’s daily output, I think I definitely come out on top having her keep me in line with my writing.

  My Beta readers are also topnotch, and I don’t know what I would do without them. These include:

  Chris Taylor, my Subjective Bata reader, who as usual NEVER falls in love with my stories! Thank God! She keeps me honest.

  Author Alexandrea Weiss

  Author Alexia Purdy

  Author Garden Summerland

  Amy Conley

  Suzie Burkhart

  Chip Perfect

  All of their input went into the finished version of this book, and I am exceedingly grateful to each and every one for taking their precious time to read it.

  Thanks also go to Alexia Purdy for the awesome artwork for the cover of the book! Check out her work at:

  http://lyricallitpublishing.blogspot.com/

  https://www.facebook.com/LyricalLitPublishing