The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20

by Jacqueline Druga

  “Made a decision yet?” Bev’s voice called to him in the darkness of the night.

  Jess stopped walking then glared at her over his shoulder.

  “Live together, become alike,” Bev snickered and walked to Jess. “Your roommate just gave me the same look.”

  “There’s a reason for it.” Jess started to walk again, or at least he tried.

  “And there’s a reason I’m stopping you. I need an answer. You know why you’re here.” She tauntingly walked to him. “Just think how convenient, if you turn me down, that a note explaining about your defecting will be found in Andrea’s things.”

  “Keep that mouth going, Bev,” Jess said calmly. “Someone aside from me will hear you talk. How do you know someone won’t find out about you before you can pull off these threats?”

  “Like who?” Bev laughed then saw Jess give a point with his head. She looked behind her to see Elliott standing just outside the Social Hall door. Shaking her head, Bev returned to Jess. “He heard nothing. But . . .” She leaned to Jess, whispering, “If he did, if I go down, so do you and there’s nothing you can do about it.” She raised her eyebrows to him, folded her arms, and turned away, waving to Elliott as she left.

  Jess swallowed. “Hey, Elliott, leaving the Hall already?”

  “Actually I stopped by to see the Captain. You?”

  “Having a drink. Wanna join me?” Jess asked.

  “No, no. I’m heading back to yours and Robbie’s. Are you sure you don’t mind me staying with you?”

  “Not at all.”

  “I appreciate it.”Elliott started to leave, but stopped. “Jess, if you don’t mind, what was that all about? You didn’t tell her . . .”

  “No. No. She hasn’t a clue we know. Bev was just . . .” Jess exhaled. “Pulling her Bev antics. That’s all. It was nothing . . .” Jess shook his head. “Nothing.”

  Refolding the note in his hand, Jess closed up the memory. He downed the rest of his drink and slowly stood up. “Night, Henry.”

  “Night Jess,” Henry said, still into his game. “Sorry I wasn’t good company.”

  “No problem. Neither was I.” Waving, Jess started to leave.

  Henry took a shot and missed. Just as he was about to cringe he heard Jess’s voice saying ‘Hey, Hector’ and Henry slowly stood upright, holding the pool stick. He watched Hector walk in.

  “Hey, Henry.” Hector walked straight to the bar. His thick, but short hair was messed and he had a tattered look.

  “Are you avoiding me?” Henry asked as he set down the cue and moved to the bar.

  “No, why?”

  “I’ve been looking for you all day. I’ve been trying to find you. You didn’t even show up for the meeting.”

  “There’s a reason for it.”

  “Yeah. You know I’m looking for you.”

  “What?” Hector chuckled and poured a drink. “Me not going to the meeting or seeing you has nothing to do with avoidance. It has everything to do with being trapped in a tool hatch with a cryogenically mind wasted field worker for nine hours. Where have you been?”

  “Oh my God. How did that happen?”

  “Remind me to kill Frank.” Hector took a drink. “He and Robbie dug that tool pit. He wouldn’t let Robbie put the hinges on. Frank had to do it. Frank is strong. He screwed them too tight or something and when Fieldworker Three knocked over the ladder, the hatch closed. We were trapped.”

  “How did you get out?”

  “Joe came up to bitch at me for missing the meeting and he heard me pounding. I’ve been playing catch up on my work since. So . . .” Hector poured another drink. “What did you need to see me about?”

  Pulling up a stool, Henry sat down. “There is going to be an investigation into Bev’s murder. I won’t be privileged to any information about it because I’m a suspect. Joe knows, through Danny, that Bev was threatening me. Joe doesn’t know why. Or why you were at the meeting. We have to come up with a reason why you were there.”

  Hector just stared at Henry. “You really don’t want it out.”

  “Neither should you,” Henry said. “It’s taboo with the Security men. Whether they do it or not, no one admits to it. If you like being Security, you can’t let them know.”

  Hector nodded.

  “Hector, Joe can’t find out about it.”

  “I just agreed, Henry,” Hector told him. “I won’t tell him about what happened with us.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about. You know it. I need you to promise me you won’t say anything.”

  Hector closed his eyes.

  Bang. The aluminum side of warehouse number three rattled with the firm slamming of Bev into it.

  “Henry!” Hector called out, charging at full force. Shoulder first, he rammed into Henry, knocked him off of Bev, and freed Henry’s hand from around Bev’s neck.

  Bev gasped as she grabbed her throat. “I’m telling.”

  “Tell!” Henry pointed with a heavy hand, as he was held back by Hector. “You go on and tell.”

  “Henry,” Hector had warning to him. “Let it go.”

  “I’ll tell everything.”

  “You know what, Bev?” Henry said with bitterness. “You’re as good as dead anyhow.”

  Setting down his glass, Hector ran his hand over his head and looked up to Henry’s eyes that waited for an answer. “No. I won’t say anything.” He finished his drink. “I won’t say anything at all.”

  ^^^^

  With a huff of irritation, Joe glanced down at his watch. He shook his head then laid the casserole dish on the table. “Frank, goddamn it!”

  “What!” Frank’s muffled voice carried through the house.

  Grunting, Joe sat down at the table. He reached out and smacked Robbie’s hand when he saw Robbie reaching. “No picking.”

  ‘I’m hungry.”

  “Wait.” Joe tapped his hands on the table. “Frank!”

  “All right!” A rattling noise rang out when the bathroom door opened.

  A whiff of clean hit Joe and he smiled. “We’ll start. He doesn’t smell anymore.” As he dished out his supper, Joe listened to Frank’s tromping footsteps. They’d move, stop, and move again. “Frank, what are you doing?”

  Frank’s head popped out of the tee shirt he put on. “Where’s Denny and Katie?” he asked then ran his fingers through his wet hair.

  “Where the hell do you think?” Joe snapped. “They’re in New Bowman. They aren’t coming back yet. Mind you, would I be serving dinner at nine at night if they were here?”

  “Yeah, you did it when we were kids.”

  “I never served dinner this late when you were growing up.”

  “Hey, Robbie. Why are you here?”

  “Free meal,” Robbie said.

  “Frank!” Joe yelled out. “Sit down. You’re holding up my dinner.” He pointed a fork at a chair.

  “Dad,” Frank chuckled. “How am I holding up dinner? You could have eaten without me. Besides, I’m not hungry. Go on eat.”

  “No, you’ll eat,” Joe told him.

  “I’m not hungry,” Frank insisted. “I’m a grown man. I don’t have to eat.”

  “The hell you don’t. You live under my roof. My rules. You’ll sit down and eat with me and your brother.”

  “Fine,” Frank huffed. “All we need is for fuckin Hal to walk in and it’ll be a nightmare of growing up all over again.” He looked at the door.

  Robbie snickered. “Frank, what are you doing?”

  “Waiting. I’m sure Hal will walk in.”

  Joe slammed his hand on the table. “Frank, Hal is not coming. It’s late. He’s probably in bed. He is responsible.”

  “Oh, Hal bites. And . . .” Frank held up a finger. “He wears fashion boots.”

  “Sit. Let’s eat,” Joe told him.

  “Fine.” Frank grabbed for a chair.

  “Did you get rid of all that blood?” Joe asked.

  “I’m clean. Smell.” Frank leaned over and
lifted his arm.

  “Asshole.” Joe swiped Frank’s arm away. “Now sit down.”

  “I’m sitting.” Frank began to sit.

  “Frank,” Joe said seconds before Frank’s rear rested in the chair. “I left my coffee in the kitchen. Can you get it?”

  “Sit down. Stand up. Get my coffee. Wash behind your fuckin ears.” Frank stood up and complained as he moved to the kitchen. He searched for Joe’s coffee cup, mumbling as he did. “Next thing you know he’s gonna ask if I did my homework.” Spotting the cup, Frank picked it up and took it into the dining room. “Here.” He set it down.

  “Thanks,” Joe said. “Frank, did you finish those reports?”

  “Close enough.” Frank sat down.

  “Excuse me?” Joe asked as he started to eat.

  “Nothing,” Frank grumbled.

  Robbie shook his head. “Man, are you tense.”

  “Fuckin hunting wears me out. I still didn’t get my bear.”

  “Hey, Frank.” Robbie leaned into him.. “Wanna do something tonight. I got an idea about . . .”

  “Elbows,” Joe warned.

  Robbie removed his elbows from the table. “Frank, I have an idea. Are you game? It’ll be fun and something I’ve always wanted to try.” He looked at his father. “It might be semi-loud. Do you mind?”

  Joe shook his head. “As long as no one gets hurt.”

  Frank shifted his eyes back and forth from his father to brother in sheer horror. Asking permission. Elbows on the table. Frank feared it was his youth all over. But he was certain about one thing, unlike while growing up, dinner would be completed without Hal getting him in trouble one way or another.

  “So, Frank.” Joe wiped his mouth. “What’s this shit I hear from Hal about you stealing Elliott Ryder for a week to do paper work you should be doing?”

  Frank slumped in his chair. He thought too soon.

  ^^^^

  The warm smell of it carried to Ellen in the bedroom with a scent of familiarity. She thought maybe it was her imagination? How could she be smelling that smell.

  “Sorry.” Dean walked in. “I didn’t want to ruin them.”

  “Dean?” Ellen turned from a dresser where she was pulling out clothes. “Are you making something?”

  “Well, yeah.” Dean opened the duffel bag. “I wanted it to be a surprise, but I guess you can smell it.”

  “Tortillas.”

  “Yep.” Dean nodded. “Jess gave me the recipe. I thought it would be nice. You know, to sit around, talk. The kids are sleeping.” He shrugged. “What uh . . . what do you think/ I don’t want to push.”

  “I think it would be nice.” Ellen turned from the dresser. “Now they are empty.”

  “Thanks for giving me back my drawers.”

  “I hate to give up the space. I am a woman. This is your home and that was your dresser, or is again.” Ellen reached for the duffle bag. “Let me help.”

  “Thanks.” Dean handed her a stack of clothes. “I appreciate it.”

  “It’s the least . . .” Ellen stopped talking when she took the clothes and saw a folded purple piece of paper that looked like stationary fall. “What’s that? I never saw that paper before.” She put down the clothes.

  “Um . . .” Dean ran his fingers through his hair. “You know what. Don’t worry about it.” In his reach, Ellen snatched it up.

  Opening it, Ellen’s eyes went from the words to Dean. “I see.”

  “El, it’s really not what you think.”

  “Really?” Ellen said calmly. “Let me read this line. I wish our night together could be sooner, but I am busy. I hope two weeks is not too long to wait. Until then, Margie.” Ellen lifted her eyes. “It’s starts out ‘Dear Dean’.”

  “El, look. Nothing has happened and it doesn’t have to happen. I was just . . . I was just moving on with my life, like you.”

  “Who is she? She has to be from New Bowman.”

  Dean nodded.

  “Do you like her?”

  “She’s very nice,” Dean said. “Before you get mad . . .”

  “I’m not mad.” Ellen’s voice raised in a fake nicety. “Not at all.” She exhaled and folded the note. “I told you we were through and . . . I was moving on. I can’t expect for you to wait on me, especially now since there are a few more women.”

  “I need you to understand. I will forget . . .”

  “No.” Ellen held up her hand. “I’m happy that you met someone nice. Now . . . how about getting those tortillas on the table and I’ll put these clothes away for you?”

  “I don’t feel right, with you finding that note and all. Maybe I should put the clothes away.”

  “Dean.” Ellen forced a grin. “Really. Go. We’re trying to get along, right. Why fight?”

  “Right. Why fight? I’ll uh . . .” Dean walked to the bedroom door. “I’ll go put the chips on the table. Coffee?”

  “Please.” Ellen smiled until Dean left then the smile dropped from her face. Speaking softly under her breath, she put the note in her pocket then reached for the clothes she took from the duffle bag. “I’ll put this away for you. Nice and . . .” She dropped them on the floor. “Neat.” Grinning, she pushed the clothes in a pile and took them to the drawer. After shoving them inside, she turned happily for the next stack of Dean’s perfectly folded clothes.

  Dean didn’t think much of the thump when he set the bowl of tortillas on the table. Not much until the thump turned into a rattle and bang. It was loud and it sounded like it came from the kitchen. Walking in there, Dean stopped when he heard it again. “What the hell?” Just as he turned to look, he heard the unmistakable Frank laugh.

  “Oh, you suck.” Frank yelled from outside.

  “Oh, yeah?” Robbie came back. “You try.”

  With the wondering thought of what they were doing heavy on his mind, Dean headed to the front door. He stopped when another bang rattled his house along with a Frank grunt. “That’s it.” He flung open his front door. “What are you two doing?” Dean yelled as he followed the noise that came from the side of the house. Both Slagel brothers were on the ground.

  “Oh, hey Dean.” Robbie smiled.

  “Dean.” Frank looked up.

  “What are you doing?”

  Frank stood. “Jumping. We’re trying to make it from my father’s roof to yours.”

  “What!” Dean blasted. “You’ll cave my roof in.”

  “No we won’t,” Frank argued. “What’s that smell?”

  “Tortilla and don’t . . . Frank.” Dean watched Frank run to the house.

  “Robbie.” Frank stopped at Dean’s door. “You coming?”

  “No, you go on,” Robbie told him. “I have to get up early anyhow. Night, Dean.”

  “Night, Robbie.” Turning, Dean froze when saw it and a snarling sound rumbled from his chest. “Frank.” Shaking his head at the dent in the siding of his house, Dean went back in. “Frank,” he called as he stepped into his house. “You dented my house.”

  “Sorry.” Frank sat at the table with Ellen. “Dean, good job.”

  “Thanks.” Grumbling, Dean pulled out a chair and sat down. “I didn’t invite you.”

  “So.” Frank shrugged. “El, do you mind?”

  Staring out with a hint of sadness, Ellen shook her head.

  “What’s wrong?” Frank asked her.

  “Nothing.” Ellen reached for the chips.

  “You sure?” Frank waited for her to nod and he grabbed another chip. “Good job on these, Dean.”

  “Jess told me how to make them.” Dean tried his creation. “I did do well, though.”

  “Yeah, just don’t turn gay like him. I know I’ll be the first man you get a crush on.”

  “You figured out my deepest desire, Frank,” Dean said sarcastically. “So how’s bear hunting?”

  “It’s going. I’ll get him. Fuckin people in this community are driving me nuts. Asking me how I’m getting him, what the odds of this and that are.”

&nb
sp; “You are Frank.”

  “I am.”

  Ellen smiled. “How big is this bear again you’re chasing?”

  “Huge.” Frank nodded. “My Dad estimates it’s fourteen times bigger than me.”

  Dean choked then took a drink. “Frank, that can’t be right. Fourteen times bigger than you?”

  “Dean. My dad said.”

  Quirky, he tilted his head. “That would make him around eighty-seven feet tall.”

  “Fuck,” Frank commented. “That’s a big bear.” He shrugged. “Oh, well.”

  “I can’t take it.” Ellen stood up. “I can’t.”

  “What?” Frank asked.

  “You and you.” She pointed to them both. “I can’t take you guys getting along. It’s not natural. Fight.”

  Frank shook his head. “I can’t do that, El. He’s my pal.”

  Dean held in his grin. “And Frank’s my buddy.”

  “And I’m going to bed. Night.” Snatching up one more chip, Ellen with a fling, turned and walked out.

  Laughing, Frank leaned into the table. “So, seeing the mood, I take it El found it.”

  “Yeah,” Dean said with little enthusiasm.

  “And?”

  “She tried to act like it didn’t faze her but it did.”

  “Good.” Frank smiled. “It’ll work.”

  “Frank, I don’t know . . .”

  “Dean. I know her. I’m telling you. It’s perfect. She’ll know you haven’t done anything but she’ll start to fear that if she doesn’t make her move now, someone else will snatch you up.”

  “Are you sure this isn’t a Frank game to get her back/” Dean asked.

  “Dean, it’s a brilliant one. Besides, I told you. I’m done with that shit. So, who wrote the note?’

  “Ben from Fabrics.”