After about thirty minutes, the downstairs lights went off in the Palmer home. Bubba checked his watch; it was 1:00 a.m. He waited a few more minutes, then looked around carefully to make sure none of the Palmers’ neighbors were stirring. Everything was nice and quiet. Bubba grabbed his tool belt and got out of the truck.
He quickly strode the one block to the front of the Palmer home where Lloyd’s Toyota Camry was parked. He sat down on the pavement, lay down, and scooted underneath the car. He took his flashlight and pipe cutter off his tool belt and turned the flashlight on so he could easily locate the brake line. He heard the sound of grass rustling nearby and assumed it was a cat scampering to safety. Bubba continued his work, found the brake line, and prepared to make a clean cut.
A split second later Bubba felt a pair of gloved hands on the sides of his face, but not for long. His neck was quickly snapped. Bubba was dead.
311
Gwen Richardson
CHAPTER 51
The rays of the morning sunrise emanating through the living room window awakened Lloyd from his fitful lounge chair slumber. He checked his cell phone for the time, which was 6:30 a.m. He wanted to call Stephanie and check on her and Bria, but he decided to wait until later since she would be getting ready for work. He got up and nudged Charles to awaken him.
“Charles, wake up.”
Charles opened his eyes and sat upright on the couch where he had been sleeping. “Did anything happen?”
“No. It was quiet all night. I did fall asleep, but it was never a deep sleep. I didn’t hear anything all night. I’m going to make some coffee. Do you want some?”
“Sure. Are you going to make me breakfast too?” Charles joked.
“You really wouldn’t want to eat my cooking. Stephanie is so good at it that I just enjoy hers. I try to stay in my lane—no need to upset the apple cart.
“But I’m sure she left something in the ‘fridge that we can eat. There’s some fresh fruit in the kitchen too. I put some towels in the bathroom downstairs for you, so you can wash up in there.”
Lloyd went upstairs to the bathroom to wash up and brush his teeth. He decided to take a shower later on, once they decided what they were going to do.
He looked at his reflection in the mirror, and it was the same as it had been a few weeks ago when he was doing some soul searching about his career. But he was not the same Lloyd Palmer that he was before. That Lloyd Palmer no longer existed.
He went downstairs to the kitchen and looked in the refrigerator to see what would be easy to prepare, yet filling. He found a carton of eggs and decided to scramble some eggs. He and Charles could also eat some yogurt mixed with fruit and drink their coffee while they discussed their strategy for the day.
Not long after he had started scrambling the eggs, Charles emerged from the bathroom looking contemplative, but refreshed.
“Those eggs smell pretty good and I didn’t realize I’d be so hungry. I guess this adrenaline rush I’ve had since last night burns calories because I feel like I haven’t eaten in a week.”
“I’m still on edge because I have no idea what’s going to happen today. I’m just glad that Stephanie and Bria are in a safe place so I can concentrate on what to do. Charles, I think we need to go to the police.”
“With what, Lloyd? We don’t have any proof. It’s just our word against Ed’s, and we’ll look like total idiots once Ed denies everything, which I know he will.”
“Well, I figure my reputation should count for something. We’ll just have to go into the nearest police station and then keep going up the chain of command until we can get someone to listen to us.”
“I questioned your judgment before, and you’ve been right all the way so far; so I’m with you. This is definitely new for you. The old Lloyd was reluctant to ruffle the boss’s feathers. Now, you’re ruffling the feathers and the whole bird,” laughed Charles. “But I like it. You’ve shown me a few things, too.”
“Yeah, like what?”
“I’ve been pretty nonchalant about taking life too seriously. I spend most of my weekends drinking and chasing women. But there are some issues of conscience and justice that are still palpable and present. I ignored them in the past, but not anymore.”
“Are you saying that your days of drinking and chasing women are over?”
“Are you kidding? Hell, no.” They both laughed.
“But I’ll be looking at life a little differently from now on,” said Charles. “Let’s eat.”
After they ate, Lloyd decided to call Stephanie to let her know he was okay; that nothing had happened thus far. After both of them showered and got dressed it was about eight o’clock. They wanted to get an early start with the police since they didn’t know how much convincing Lloyd would have to do and how long it would take.
Lloyd opened the front door, and Charles walked out ahead of him. Just as Lloyd was about to lock the door, Charles noticed something sticking out from underneath the car and said, “Lloyd, there’s something underneath your car. It looks like a man’s foot.”
They cautiously descended the front steps and slowly approached the car, all the while fixated on the scuffed cowboy boot that was sticking out slightly on the passenger side near the rear of Lloyd’s Camry. Charles broke the silence that engulfed them, “The foot doesn’t appear to be moving,” he said, then moved closer and gave the foot a slight kick.
“He’s either unconscious or dead. Lloyd, this is probably the guy who was supposed to scare you off. I wonder what happened to him.”
“Maybe the son of a bitch had a heart attack. Let’s go back inside and call the police. This is one crime scene that I don’t want disturbed since this is probably the proof we need to put Ed behind bars where he belongs.”
311
Gwen Richardson
CHAPTER 52
It only took about ten minutes for two police cars to arrive at Lloyd’s house. When Lloyd called 911, he identified himself as a reporter for the Ledger, and that seemed to have had the desired effect. Lloyd and Charles had been waiting inside but had been looking through the front window that faced the street so they could go outside as soon as the police arrived.
Before removing the body from underneath the car, the police peppered Lloyd with questions: What time did he get home last night? What time did he notice the body? Did he hear any commotion or noises outside during the night? Did either of them touch the body? Did he know of anyone who might want to harm him?
Lloyd answered truthfully to all of the questions except the last one. He replied “I’m not sure,” to the policeman who questioned him, but he knew exactly who wanted to do him harm: Ed Jackson. He wanted to find out the identity of the man who was underneath his car before he said anything.
One of the policemen spoke into his radio requesting that a van from the coroner’s office be dispatched to the Lloyd residence. Then two of the cops pulled Bubba’s body from underneath Lloyd’s Camry.
Bubba’s eyes were wide open, with a look that implied his death had been both sudden and shocking. His head dangled easily from side to side when he was moved.
“From the looks of it, I’d say his neck was broke,” said one of the cops, “but I have no idea how it could have happened underneath this car.” The officer turned Bubba’s body over onto its stomach and checked his back for blood pooling and rigor mortis.
“Well, it’s clear his body hasn’t been moved based on the pooling of the blood in his back,” the officer said, pointing to the area on Bubba’s back where the blood had accumulated. “He died underneath this car, but I’d be hard pressed to tell you how it happened,” the officer added, scratching his head with the fingers of his right hand.
“Let’s check his pockets for a wallet and identification.”
The officers checked Bubba’s pockets, found his wallet and looked at his driver’s license. “Robert Murray is the name on this license. Do either of you fellows know this guy?” said the officer, directing his question to
Lloyd and Charles.
As soon as they pulled Bubba’s body from underneath the car, Lloyd and Charles looked at his face to see if they recognized him, but neither of them had ever seen him before. They shook their heads.
“We’ve never seen him before,” said Lloyd, “but I’m fairly certain who put him up to this.”
“If you do know who’s behind this, we can go question him right away. Who is it?”
“My boss at the Houston Ledger, Ed Jackson.”
“Ed Jackson? Why in the world would he want to get somebody to disable your car?”
“It’s a long story, officer, but, believe me, it’s for real. An employee at the paper overheard Mr. Jackson on the phone yesterday evening arranging for someone to hurt me. Apparently, this guy was sent to do Ed’s dirty work.”
“Who overheard this phone call, and when did it supposedly occur?”
“I’d rather not say, sir, because she’s in fear for her life. But it took place yesterday evening, around six o’clock.”
“Well, we can’t accuse Mr. Jackson of conspiracy to commit murder or attempted murder without some proof. Let me have our detectives pull Mr. Jackson’s phone records at his office. If there’s a connection between Mr. Murray and your editor, we’ll find it. Then we’ll bring him in for questioning.”
311
Gwen Richardson
CHAPTER 53
It only took the detectives a few hours to pull Ed Jackson’s phone records, and, sure enough, he had spoken to Bubba several times over the course of the last month. The phone call the evening before, however, was considered to be probable cause for Ed to be brought in for questioning. They also searched Bubba’s home and found his handwritten notes where he’d tracked Lloyd’s comings and goings for the past couple of weeks. By late afternoon, Ed was charged with conspiracy to commit murder.
Meanwhile, Lloyd had called Stephanie to assure her that everything was okay, that the person who’d put them in harm’s way was dead, and that Ed Jackson was behind bars. He also called Audrey to thank her for warning him in advance. If she hadn’t had the presence of mind to phone Charles, things could have ended very badly for the entire Palmer family.
Once Ed had been picked up by the police, Lloyd decided to go into the office at the Ledger to see what the mood was among the other reporters. He also wanted to gauge whether or not he believed there was still a place for him at Houston’s daily newspaper, or if he should move on to greener pastures.
When Lloyd walked into the news room, a hush engulfed the room, and his co-workers immediately stopped what they were doing. Applause burst forth suddenly, and the staff members gave him a standing ovation.
“Lloyd, we’re so glad to see you in one piece,” said one reporter, giving him a pat on the back and a handshake.
“I can’t believe Ed would go so far,” said another, “but thank God you’re okay.”
The comments by the others were along a similar vein, and Lloyd was genuinely overwhelmed and touched by the well wishers’ sentiments. He had not been sure exactly what to expect when he arrived and was pleasantly surprised.
He went to his desk and performed the usual tasks—checking e-mails and voice mail messages, reviewing the Ledger web site for the most recently posted stories and searching the Internet for other news, both locally and nationally. After he had been there about thirty minutes, his phone rang. It was a call from within the Ledger offices, and the caller ID showed that Wilson Cox, the Ledger’s executive vice president, was on the line.
“Lloyd Palmer here.”
“Lloyd, this is Wilson Cox. Would you mind coming to my office right away, please?”
“No problem, Mr. Cox. I’ll be right there,” said Lloyd, and he hung up the phone. This is it, he thought. Cox had never summoned Lloyd to his office before, so he knew that, however the conversation went, it definitely would not be routine.
With all of the drama that had surrounded him during the past month, it was possible that the Ledger wanted to quietly sever their ties with him. If so, Lloyd planned to hold out for as much money as he could get—enough of a severance package so that he could take his time weighing his options.
Cox’s office was on the building’s top floor. Lloyd got off the elevator and approached the receptionist, who appeared to recognize him because she immediately said, “Mr. Cox is waiting for you in his office, Mr. Palmer. You can go right in.” She pointed to the wooden door about ten feet away with a gold-plated sign bearing Cox’s name. Lloyd knocked on the door and awaited a response.
“Come in,” Cox said cheerfully, as Lloyd entered the office. Another elderly gentleman was seated in the chair closest to the window, but Lloyd did not recognize him. “I was just sitting here with Richard Nelson, and we were talking about you.”
Lloyd sat in the chair closest to the door. “About me? Well, what’s the verdict?”
“The verdict, Lloyd, is that you have literally saved our asses, not once but twice within a short period of time. If it hadn’t been for you, the Ledger would have had a web of legal entanglements that we might not have survived. The fact that your life was in imminent danger is a source of shame and embarrassment as well. This paper owes you a tremendous debt, and we’ve thought of a great way to repay you.”
“I didn’t do the things I did because I expected to be repaid; I did them because they were the right things to do,” responded Lloyd. “But I am curious as to what sort of payment you had in mind?”
“We want to offer you the position of editor of the paper. With Ed gone, the position needs to be filled right away. With the judgment you’ve shown and your ability to get the most out of a story and the players involved, you’re the perfect candidate. We’ll provide you with a salary and benefits package that is among the most competitive in the news business. How about it, Lloyd?”
This was not what Lloyd had expected, and he was stunned into silence. This would definitely be a groundbreaking move, but did he really want the pressure of being editor with the newspaper industry in such a state of flux?
“Your offer is very flattering. I’d like to have a day or so to think it over and talk to my wife, Stephanie, about it, if you don’t mind.”
“No, not at all. Take a day or think it over. But don’t contemplate too long. We will need to fill the position soon. I’m sure you agree that Ed’s arrest looks very bad for the paper, and we need someone to take charge immediately and put out the ensuing fires that will flare up until he’s been sentenced, and the public forgets about what he’s done.”
“Don’t worry. I should have an answer for you within the next couple of days,” said Lloyd, as he felt his cell phone vibrate indicating that either a text message or a call was coming in. He stood up and shook both men’s hands. “I’ll let you two get back to your meeting.”
Lloyd exited the office and closed the door. He checked his cell phone and it was a text message from Hamisi. Meet me in 30 minutes at the place where we met before. Be sure to come alone.
Lloyd had planned to go back to his desk and wait for incoming news for a fresh assignment, but then he remembered that Ed wasn’t there, and he wasn’t sure who was farming out stories that day. Instead, he told Charles to cover for him and headed to the Galleria area. He thought Hamisi had disappeared for good, and he wanted to speak to him once more before he vanished forever.
311
Gwen Richardson
CHAPTER 54
Lloyd arrived at the Lakes on Post Oak about twenty-five minutes after receiving Hamisi’s text message. It was a beautiful day; not a cloud in the sky. He sat on the same bench as before, awaiting Hamisi’s quiet arrival. He didn’t expect to hear his footsteps behind him. But, by now, Lloyd was accustomed to Hamisi’s mysterious ways. In fact, he appreciated the precision of the cloak and dagger tactics.
He had been there about ten minutes when Hamisi’s voice broke the silence. “I’m glad to see you in good health and unharmed.”
Lloyd turned around t
o face his old friend. “Hamisi, I’m so glad to see you. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see you again. Why did you say you’re glad to see me unharmed?”
“Our people took care of the man who was going to dismantle your car, did we not?”
“Your people? You mean that the Lemba had something to do with his broken neck?”
“Yes, our people were watching you because we felt that you might be in danger. Anyone who starts to peel away layers of deceit, the way one would peel away the layers of an onion, will ultimately become a target for those who do not want the truth to be revealed.”
“Who are these people, Hamisi? You seem like you’re a little mature to be engaging in hand to hand combat.”
“We have a group among us that handles these sorts of missions. They carry no weapons, but their defense techniques are extremely effective.”
“Professor Gastalt told me about an enforcement squad for the Lemba, but he said he had no proof of its existence. I want to thank you because you probably saved my life and the lives of my wife and daughter. I owe you so much, Hamisi. How can I ever repay you?”
“No payment is necessary. I do this because I have begun to look upon you as my own son. Your mind has been opened now, and you can see so many things you could not see before. This is what a parent does for a child—teaches him what he must know to become his best self.”
“I have some interesting news, Hamisi. The Ledger has offered me the position of editor.”
“So now you may be in a position to decide what is truth and what is not truth. What the people should know and what should be withheld from their consciousness. Will you take the job?”
“I really don’t know, Hamisi. On the one hand, it could be a tremendous opportunity to make some changes in the way we report news. But I’ll be up against a tremendous tide of a rapid race to the bottom. News standards have become increasingly lower, and the competition to report sleaze will only grow. I want to talk it over with Stephanie and then sleep on it for at least one night,” Lloyd said, as he looked off into the distance.
The Genesis Files Page 20