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The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20

Page 120

by Jacqueline Druga


  Amongst Henry’s snickering, Joe leaned far back on his chair and covered his face. “A Frank revelation.”

  “Amazing,” Jason said.

  “Oh! Oh! Uh!”:Frank shrieked. “Dad. The brother Frank . . . that’s, that’s me!”

  It probably was the loudest groan Joe ever made that rang out.

  “Dad, it’s true. Ask . . .” Frank looked around the room. Robbie’s chair was empty and the door was open. “Fuck.” With a biting bottom lip glare, Frank pointed at his father. “I’m killing him.”

  “Frank!” Joe called out, but before anymore was said, Frank had taken off. “Henry, get on the radio and warn Robbie to hide out for a little bit. Christ.” Joe shook his head and slammed his hands on the desk. “Was this a typical goddamn meeting or what?”

  ^^^^

  Pine Springs, Texas

  The sound ran down a line. Pumping chambers and clicking hammers rang out as the man in the black hood pushed his motorcycle through a break in the woods in the Guadalupe Mountains. He couldn’t see the weapons pointed at him, but he could feel the steady aims. He had followed the smell of civilization once again. Food. Warmth. Fire. People. His heart beat strongly. His hands trembled. “I come in peace!” he shouted out with his young voice. “Please. I come in peace. I just need a safe place to rest. Fuel for my bike. I . . . I have my own food.” He reached for the pack strapped to his bike. His hand came not even within a foot of it when a warning shot hit into the dirt by his feet.

  “Stap ‘way freem the bi,” an older voice called out. His accent was one of not a southern draw, though it had that hint. It was more of a heavy drawn out dialect of someone that had forgotten how to speak properly. “Hans sup.”

  The man in the hood did as instructed. Slowly, with his hands raised, he moved away from his motorcycle.

  Six men emerged from the trees. They were led by a thin man with long stringy gray hair. His face was horrendously scarred with slash marks and he had teeth missing. He was clean, like the other six, and none of them were tattered.

  “Wa sit yew wan?” The gray haired man asked.

  “I . . . I told you. Just a safe place. A few hours. I’ll be on my way. I need to rest in safety. Then I’ll leave, please.”

  The man lowered his weapon. He looked over the hooded person before him. There was not a spot of skin showing. “Why sit yew hi yew sell?”

  It took a moment but the hooded man comprehended the question. “I have to.”

  “For we le yew ins. Shoe yew sell.” He pointed the gun to the hood.

  “I . . . I can’t. Not yet. Please.” He peered up to the sky and to the bright sun. “I’ll die.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  New Bowman, Montana

  The crotch shot was something Ellen didn’t expect to see when she opened her eyes to the sound of a clearing throat. On her back on Hal’s bed, with her head hanging over the side, Ellen viewed an upside down Hal.

  “Pathetic.” Hal stood, hands on his hips. “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing,” Ellen answered.

  “You are expected at Elliott’s house in twenty minutes. Are you blowing him off?”

  “I’m still in the debate phase.”

  “There is no debate, El. You go.”

  “But, Hal.” Ellen rolled on to her stomach then sat up. “I feel really funny especially with the way I heard he is.”

  “I heard the rumors myself. I can’t confirm or deny. That’s not my place. Elliott is my right-hand man. But . . .” Hal sat on the bed next to her. “Instead of blowing him off, why don’t you go and open up. Really give him a piece of your mind by reading him the riot act.”

  “Yeah.” Ellen’s face lit up.

  “Add insult to injury. Look really good when you deliver it. Put that little black dress on that . . .” Hal paused to snicker. “Jess picked out for you.”

  “You know what.” Ellen stood up. “I think I will.”

  “Good.” Hal watched Ellen waltz to the closet and grabbed the dress that hung on the door.

  “Thanks, Hal.”

  Giving a sloppy salute, Hal waited until the bathroom door closed and hurried from the bedroom. The first thing he did was pick up the phone and dial. Smiling, he spoke. “Frank? You’re gonna love this.”

  ^^^^

  Beginnings, Montana

  “Whereabouts?” Danny Hoi stated, sitting on the floor across from Trish.

  “There are two unknown,” Trish answered. “October second when the freezer case was broken into and . . . the break in at the mobile lab.”

  Danny cringed. “That’s the one I worry about. Hopefully Henry won’t play upon them. But . . . the mobile lab is bad especially with John’s testimony out of the picture.”

  “And did you read Dean’s . . . ow, deposition given to Stan?”

  “I hate Stan the Bowman man. I wish Judge Grace wouldn’t have aligned him to help Henry.”

  “But if she didn’t. Ow. It wouldn’t look fair.”

  “Who cares.” Danny shuffled through the notes. “Line of defense?”

  “She was home. Dean’s testimony is, ow, really bad.”

  “Why is Dean testifying against Andrea? They’re colleagues.”

  “He’s not testifying against her. He just states that, ow, that he believes . . .” Trish read off the deposition. “. . . an unknown source, close to the Salicain, was found in John’s blood. This drug is not made in Beginnings. It’s a Society drug.”

  “So, if the drug is in John’s blood, someone working for the Society gave it to him. Hence, Andrea’s freedom to move about.”

  “What about the match up, ow, on the similar diagnosis for Joe and John and also Andrea’s rounds location?”

  “You know what? If that comes up, I’m going to dance around and change the subject.”

  “Oh, good ow, idea.” Trish huffed, swung around, and smacked Richie with the papers. “Stop pulling my hair.”

  “Bug.” Richie reached down to her hair again.

  “There are no bugs in my hair! Stop!” She smacked him again.

  “Ow.” Richie rubbed his chin on his shoulder. “Ow. Dan. Hurt. She hurt me, Dan. Ow, Trish hurt me.”

  “Trish.” Danny waved a scolding finger. “This is why you have no more friends in Beginnings.”

  “No. You are why I have no more friends in Beginnings because you make me hang out with Bev.”

  “Bev,” Richie stated. “Bev. Bev. Bev.” He reached for Trish’s hair.

  “And?” Trish complained. “Why do we have to work in here anyhow . . . ow!” She smacked Richie again.

  Richie whimpered then snickered and reached again, leaning over Trish.

  “Because,” Danny explained. “I don’t want Richie to feel left out and I’m hoping that we can snap him out of this.”

  “I doubt it. Let’s just review . . .” Trish looked down to the ‘pat’ noise she heard and saw the small wet spot on her paper. “Great. Just great. Now he’s drooling.”

  “Bev.” Richie smiled and pulled Trish’s hair. “Let’s go see Bev. Bev.”

  “Off!” Trish struck her arm out and missed Richie. Frustrated, she stood up. “Danny, when you’re ready to work in peace, find me. Until then, I’m going home to my baby.”

  “Trish, wait!” Danny called out as she suddenly stormed from the Skills Room. “We have to find the connection to ‘George’ theory.”

  “Bev. Bev.” Richie reached for the papers. “Bev.”

  “Not now, Rich. And that wasn’t Bev. That was Trish.” Danny gathered up his things.

  “Trish,” Richie repeated.

  “Yes.” Danny, frustrated, stood up with all his work. “As much as I wanted to have you part of this, I have to find Trish. We have work. See ya.”

  Richie stood alone in the Skills Room. “Trish.” He spoke to himself then did a quick twitching ‘no’ shake of his head. “Bev. Bev. Beverly Hadley.” He took a moment to run his chin on his shoulder. “Ah, she’s beautiful, just . . . ju
st beautiful.”

  ^^^^

  Though the little round black disk that was tucked away safely in Johnny’s home was supposed to be viewed by Bev at that moment, Johnny opted to make her wait for the boredom. He had other things to do.

  With his daughter in arms and the smell of food enticing him, he knocked once and stepped inside Joe’s home.

  “Oh!” Andrea shrieked out pleasantly. “Look who’s here.” She hurried across the living room with a towel in her hand. “Joe!” She reached out and took the baby from Johnny. “Come to great grandma. Yes.” She held her up. “Look at you. Oh, just look.” Andrea plastered the baby with kisses then cuddled her and kissed Johnny. “Two nights in a row you got this little one. We’re proud of you.”

  “Thanks. How are you doing, Andrea?”

  “Me?” Andrea smiled. “Oh I’m just fine. Why?”

  “With tomorrow and all.”

  “Oh, I don’t worry about tomorrow or the next day with this trial. It’s a minor thing.” She kissed the baby and handed her back to Johnny. “The Good Lord will decide my fate. I have to get supper done. You hungry?”

  Johnny nodded as an upbeat Andrea darted from the living room.

  “Well.” Joe walked in from the hall. “You stopped by. And . . .” He took the baby. “You brought my granddaughter. Thank you.”

  Johnny smiled. “Pap? Andrea, she’s doing really good. Is that a front?”

  Joe peered the kitchen’s way. “No. She’s very optimistic. She really believes something’s gonna happen and the real person for George will be found out. There’s not a lot of time for that to happen.” Joe bounced the baby with a little sadness. “I’ll tell you Johnny, I hope she’s right. Things don’t look good. I don’t know what I’m gonna do. She’s the first person in thirty years who puts up with me.”

  Johnny didn’t know how to respond. The feeling of guilt was not one he expected to feel as he listened to his grandfather then watched him change his demeanor to a happier one as he played with the baby.

  ^^^^

  New Bowman, Montana

  Ellen was late.

  Elliott expected that. From what he remembered of women, they always ran late but it still didn’t stop him from worrying or pacing before his front door. Even though he knew she would knock when she got there, the sound of the knock went through Elliott, causing even more nervousness. He reached for the door, stopped, took a breath, counted to five, and then flung open the door with a smile. “El . . . len.”

  Ellen raised her eyes. Expecting to see Elliott in his uniform, she was shocked when he stood before her dressed in faded jeans and a black turtleneck style shirt. “Elliott.”

  “You look . . . you look stunning,” Elliott wisped out as he opened the door more. “Come in.”

  Slowly Ellen stepped inside. “Sorry I’m late.”

  “You’re late?” Elliott looked at his watch. “Just a few minutes. That won’t be a problem. Would you like something to drink?”

  “No.”

  “Sit down?”

  “No.” Ellen shook her head.

  “Dinner’s done. I thought we’d eat, have time for coffee, and head to the theater to catch . . .”

  “Elliott.”

  “Yes?”

  “This ... this isn’t going to work. O.K.?”

  Awkwardly and nervously, Elliott smiled. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean . . . and you looking so handsome is not making this easy.” She took a breath. “I mean, I’m not going to do what I had planned. I was going to read you the riot act and give you a piece of my mind, but . . . I’ll just leave instead. Thanks.” She walked to the door.

  Elliott’s heart dropped. “You don’t have to tell me but may I at least ask why?”

  Ellen stopped before the door.

  “I mean, I obviously have done something these past few days that caused you to want to read me the riot act. Did I offend you?”

  “No.”

  “Have I handled our situation badly? I am so out of practice that . . .”

  “No,” Ellen answered.

  Believing he was still being given more guesses, Elliott did. “Were you expecting me to do something I didn’t do? Did I not call you enough? Perhaps you didn’t get my messages. I placed . . .”

  “Elliott, I got your calls,” Ellen said softly. “That’s not it. See . . . I wanted to go out on this date with you. Even if I misinterpreted how you felt, I still liked you, but let me explain something to you. As you know, there are not that many women in the world. We are becoming extinct. There are plenty of men. Sort of an unwritten rule between us is we don’t step on each other’s toes. If a woman has interest in a man first, you don’t touch that. The field is too big for a woman to trample on another woman’s territory. Understand?”

  “I think so. There’s no reason for two women to share a man.”

  “Exactly. There are too many choices for us as women. So . . . I won’t step on her toes. I don’t feel right doing it.”

  “Whose toes?” Elliott asked.

  “The woman here in Bowman that you date.”

  Elliott’s eyes closed. “Oh my God. Is this . . . is this the reason for the coldness and distance? You think I am dating someone else here in New Bowman?”

  “You said . . .”

  “I lied.” Elliott shook his head in nervousness. “It slipped out. I don’t know why I said it. It just slipped out like a blundering fool because I didn’t want you to know I was there to see you.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.” Elliott nodded. “Ellen, I am so taken with you that even if the choice of women were plentiful, I wouldn’t want to get to know anyone else. Not on that level. And though it is not like that, I must tell you I take it as a great honor, that in this world where there are so many of us men, you would even show interest in me.”

  “Oh wow.” Ellen was taken by his words.

  “I’ll understand if you want to go.”

  “No,” Ellen answered quickly. “Misunderstanding cleared up. I’m sorry.”

  “No, I’m sorry. I should have told you but the . . .” Elliott closed his eyes with a barely heard whine. “The Captain.” He huffed. “I’ll pay him back. One day.”

  “You’re not the only one. He got me too.” Ellen smiled. “All right. We’re back on track. Let’s have our date.”

  “I’d like that.” Elliott held his hand out to the way of the dining room. “Are you hungry?”

  “Very.” Ellen walked ahead of Elliott into the dining room and stopped cold when she spotted the well set up table complete with lit candles. “Oh.” She stepped closer. “Maybe I was wrong?”

  “About?” Elliott moved to her.

  “Us. Elliott. This . . . this looks so romantic.”

  His eyes went wide. “Romantic?

  “The wine, the table. Oh the candles. It looks like you really are . . .” Ellen shut up when she watched Elliott hurry and blow out the candles. “Maybe not.” She pulled out a seat at the table and sat down.

  ^^^^

  Beginnings, Montana

  Sniveling.

  If playing the old television show Password, Henry was sure that would be the one word he would use to get his opponent to simply say ‘Stan’.

  Stan Lit-a-something-or-other, the New Bowman man appointed by Judge Grace to be Henry’s legal assistant, was becoming Henry’s nightmare. When did he start to take the assignment so seriously, Henry had to wonder? Though Henry argued and called Frank rude at first over it, he had to admit that Frank’s initial pictorial description was right on the nose. To Frank, three thing best described Stan. One, he was someone everyone picked on in school. Two, he was the person everyone picked on in school because he told on everyone. And three, he looked like he would have been Dean’s best buddy.

  Stan.

  “Henry. Henry.”

  With slightly parted lips and a turn of his head, Henry looked at Stan. “Do you always speak so nasally or are you getting sick?
Maybe if you’re getting sick you should . . .”

  “No, I’m not ill. It’s just a little fall nasal drainage.”

  “Does . . . Does Hal actually put you into battle?”

  “Who?”

  “I’m telling.” Henry smiled.

  “About?”

  “Not knowing who Hal is. I’m telling. Hal is Captain Slagel.”

  “See now that’s the reason I wouldn’t know him by Hal. I wouldn’t dare call a man I hold so much respect for by his first name. He is Captain Slagel.”

  “I see.” Henry nodded slowly. “So does he put you into battle at all?”

  “Heaven’s no. I’m much too small. I’m the map man. Now Henry . . .”

  “Really, we should end for tonight.” Henry faked a yawn. “Boy, oh boy, am I tired.”

  “But Henry, your opening statement lacks fact.”

  “Work on it.” Henry smiled and stood up.

  “O.K., but don’t you think that you should learn it first?”

  “Um . . . nah, I’ll just read it.”

  “It won’t sound right.”

  “I’m a great actor. Sure it will.” Henry closed his folders.

  “What about these argumentative points as regarding . . .”

  “You can handle that.” Henry winked. “I’m heading home. Just review. That’s it. We’ll be fine tomorrow.” Henry walked to the door of library where they had been working. “Night.”

  “Night.” Stan slumped his thin body back in the chair, mumbling as he did. “That Henry.” He flipped through a folder. “He has no initiative what-so-ever. Let’s see.” A turn of a page brought a bright smile to Stan’s face. “Now see.” He held up a document. “This isn’t even mentioned. I bet he missed this. That Henry.” Stan began to furiously write.

  ^^^^

  The opening of Dean’s front door brought to him the vision of a drastically swaying Robbie.

 

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