The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20

by Jacqueline Druga

  “Check this out,” Dean said. “Herb called me because one of his pigs was choking.”

  Slowly Danny blinked. “He called you because his pig was choking. Did he want you to perform the Heimlich maneuver?”

  Suddenly Jason laughed. “Sorry, I just have this vision of Dean grasping the pig from behind and … wait …never mind. My thoughts were going to bestiality.”

  Dean rolled his eyes. “Ha, ha, ha. No, I wasn’t called to save the pig. I was called because I was being blamed for his choking. Herb thought I put something in the improved feed that was stuck in the pig’s throat. When I went up, the pig sounded like he had a fur ball. Herb propped open the pigs mouth, I went into his throat, and found … Forrest’s big toenail.”

  Elliott and Danny winced audibly.

  “So I called John, acting head of Security.” Dean explained. “He came up.”

  John continued the story, “I found the other four toenails in the pig poop.”

  Danny winced louder. “Why did you even bother looking?”

  “Dean and I were talking while you were in Jordan. Removal of the toenails is an excruciating thing. Drunk or not, Forrest would have woken up and saw who did this so we questioned Forrest again. Again, he gave us the same story. He passed out and was stirred by pain in his foot and the sound of a monster.”

  “Monster?” Danny asked calmly.

  Dean responded “Immediately we thought killer baby.”

  John nodded. “But the baby would have eaten the foot,” he argued, “and would not have stopped. When Dean called, he merely told me he found the monster. I went up. He had Forest’s big toe nail. The monster sound had to be the pig. We started talking. Pigs are very carnivorous, you know. I went through the waste and found the other toenails along with … hold on.” John reached into his back pocket. “Part of Forrest’s shoe.”

  Elliot smiled. “Case closed.”

  “Exactly,” John said. “Dean and I pieced it together.”

  “May I?” Jason asked and when he received the nods, he gave a gander. “Forrest was drunk, wandered off, and passed out by the pig pen. A pig started nibbling on his foot. The pain woke him up. He made a mad dash, tripped, and passed out again, but was close to the greenhouses.”

  John nodded. “That’s what we think. So, like Elliott said, case closed. There was no attack.”

  Danny sighed out then clenched his fist. “Yes! Yes. So if all goes well, we won’t have anything on the Joe list.”

  Jason tilted his head. “Not exactly. We still have that meteor coming.”

  Danny cringed.

  Dean perked up. “Meteor? The same one as Frank’s?”

  Jason shook his head. “No, Jordan actually has an astronomer who’s viably spotted a rock headed toward Earth. Now I have a solution.”

  “What?” Danny asked.

  “There’s an observatory in Billings. I’m sure if we take the right man, someone who can get us up and running, this astronomer and I could get better statistics for this rock.”

  John raised his hand. “I’ll take him. I have the mechanical means. Jason, will that work for you?”

  Jason nodded. “I don’t have a problem with it.”

  Elliot spoke, “Then you can tell Joe that we have this report but we’ve already made plans to send Jason, this astronomer, and John to Billings to concur or deny what the raw materials said.”

  “Things are getting smooth.” Danny smiled. “O.K., so when I tell Joe, I’ll tell him that. Jason, how long will it take?”

  “Two days or so, unless Dean wants to go?”

  “Um, no.” Dean shook his head. “I’m working on something here, plus meteors aren’t my thing.” He paused. “Really, a meteor is coming?” He received a nod. “Frank is gonna be in his glory.”

  “Jason?” Elliott asked. “What is your opinion of this meteor?”

  “It’s coming,” Jason said, “but when the astronomer told Biggles, Biggles went haywire. He doesn’t even think it’ll land anywhere near us and if his calculations of size are correct, we should be affected little if any. Then again, further testing and observing will tell.”

  Dean had to question, “Do you think Joe will have a problem letting John go?”

  Sarcastically, Danny snickered “Dean, please. He put him in charge of Security, I don’t think he’ll have a problem on this one.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about,” Dean said. “Will he let John go? John’s got status again. You know how Joe is about having his top guys out in the field.”

  John interjected, “He’ll let me. You need security, but you also need someone with mechanical background. That’s me. Actually, I’m pumped for this. As long as we hold off until after the Jimmy party. I don’t want to miss that.”

  Quickly, Dean turned in his chair to John, “You’re invited?”

  “Yeah,” John answered. “Of course it’s family and close knit friends at Joe’s house. I don’t need to go to the party at the Hall afterwards so I can go out …”

  “Wait.” Dean halted him. “Why are you invited if you’re not family?”

  “Dean.” John smiled. “My wife has known Jimmy all her life.”

  Dean nodded slowly, “You’re right. I’m just testy because I wasn’t invited.”

  John replied, “You can go to the Hall to meet him. Most people will be there. My wife got people to put that one together.”

  “He’s got a point, Dean,” Danny said. “Jason, I’ll have John prep things to go and I’ll present it to Joe right away. Are you sure you won’t mind missing the Jimmy party at the Hall?”

  “Nah.” Jason waved out his hand. “I’ll meet Jimmy at Joe’s.”

  “You?” Dean questioned. “Why are you invited?”

  “I’m Joe’s best friend,” Jason explained. “If you question why anyone is there, ask why Danny is invited.”

  “Danny?” Dean asked shock. “You?”

  “Dean, come on.” Danny snickered. “I’m on Council. I have more right than Henry.”

  “Henry too?” Dean asked.

  No,” Elliott said. “Henry is like family. Hector …”

  John interrupted, “Henry’s mate.”

  Elliott nodded.

  Dean sighed out. “Hector and Henry. At least Josephine wasn’t invited.” He saw the silent faces. “Josephine too?”

  Jason spoke up, “She is doing the baking. However I will argue about Ben from Fabrics being there.”

  John intervened before Dean said anything, “But Ben, Andrea, and my wife are close.”

  Jason nodded. “Got me on that one.”

  Dean’s mouth went agape and then he stood up, “I don’t believe this. I really don’t believe this. It has nothing to do with family. I am family, divorced from Ellen or not. Sgt. Ryder, please quit smiling.

  Elliott bit his bottom lip.

  Dean continued, “But I’m an original. This was a personal strike against me from Andrea and, sorry for saying this John, Jenny too. They hate me.”

  John slightly winced. “I might agree with that.”

  Elliott tried to be reasonable. “Dean, I understand how you are feeling. I do.”

  Sadly Dean nodded, “You weren’t invited either, huh?”

  “Oh, no,” Elliott said “I was invited. I was just sympathizing …”

  “Don’t.” Dean held up his hand. “Don’t. He stormed to the door. “Just know, invite or not, whether I want to be at the stupidest welcome back Jimmy Slagel party or not, I will be there.” Dean barged out.

  Danny jolted at the slam of the door. “Someone’s being a little childish. John, you better give a heads up to Jenny.”

  “You’re right.” John reached for the door.

  “And take a shower.”

  “Got it.” John stopped. “I have the toenails in my pocket. Do you want them now?”

  “Uh ….” Danny thought for a second. “You know what? Bag them and save them for Frank. He may want to take a look.”

  “G
ot it. I’ll leave them in this bin with a note.”

  Danny winked. “Thanks.”

  John walked out.

  “Well,” Elliott stood. “I think that went well.”

  Jason rose from his chair. “Smooth Very smooth meeting. A lot was solved. Good job on a successful meeting, Danny. I feel like I didn’t waste a moment of my time.”

  “Me either,” Elliott commented. “It was fast and efficient except for the Dean thing, but you’ll have that. Danny, again, wonderful job on the meeting.”

  Danny blushed slightly. “Thanks. I have to agree it was tough.” He gathered his things. “It makes you wonder why Joe has such a problem with these meetings.”

  “One word,” Elliott replied. “One word. One difference.” He waited until he had their attention. “Frank.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  George’s finger caressed the rim of the short glass as it sat on the table next to his chair. “You know,” he spoke near a whisper, “I have sipped enough bourbon in my life to know when it is aged properly …” He lifted the glass and took a drink. “This is good bourbon.” He gasped and put down the glass. “I’ve also been around enough people to know when they are beckoning for their silence to be broken so I’ll do that.” He leaned forward. “What brings you here?”

  Johnny stared hard for a moment. “A couple of things. One of which is what you said.”

  “I see.” George nodded. “Can you answer me this? Did you fake the amnesia?”

  “No. No, I didn’t. “

  “I’ll believe that only because you’ve never given me reason not to believe you.”

  “George, I understand what you said and you were right to an extent, but my condition, my illness, made me do a lot of things I didn’t want to do.”

  “I never asked you to.”

  “I know that but you let me.”

  “How …” George tried to keep himself in control. “How can you say that? I was thousands of miles away. You made decisions, Johnny. I urged you not to. You did them.”

  “Okay, I did. But … my condition …”

  “Did not make us close. Did not make you loyal to me.”

  Johnny nodded. “It distorted the end result.”

  “So are you saying you would have never joined the Society?”

  “I don’t know.” Johnny shrugged. “I love my family. I … love you, George. That’s what makes this so difficult.”

  “You don’t have a choice now, Johnny,” George explained. “You can’t go back to Beginnings. They won’t take you.”

  “But if they decide to operate …”

  “Chances are they’ll operate here,” George said. “They aren’t letting you back in. You’re out of options.”

  After hanging his head low, Johnny raised his eyes. “What about here? What about Lodi?”

  “If Lodi doesn’t join the Society … Lodi …” He sighed out. “Put it this way. Lodi has no choice. They join the Society or they’re out.”

  “What? Why?”

  George snickered. “Come on, you know the rules. They can’t be on my side of the fence if they are gonna sell my grass.”

  Johnny drew silent.

  “You also have to think about something else. That tumor. It has to come out. Lars can’t do it.”

  “Lars said he’ll try.”

  “Lars …” George sighed out. “Is a brilliant mind. I have people that can do the operation.”

  “I know. That’s the other reason I am here.” Johnny paused. “If Beginnings, if Dean, doesn’t do the surgery, can I … Can I come to the Society to have it done? I don’t want to die, George.”

  “I wouldn’t let that happen.” George picked up his drink. “You can do that, but … on one condition.”

  Johnny was afraid to ask. “What’s that?”

  “If you come to us for help, you stay with us. Stay with me. The Society.”

  Harshly, Johnny swallowed. “George …”

  “That’s my condition, Johnny. For all I’ve done, for the stakes involved, I don’t think it’s too much to ask.” George finished off his drink and poured another.

  ***

  Mike was in ready to kill Tigger mode. It disturbed him greatly and pissed him off because he was at a loss on where to begin. Actually, Mike didn’t give it much thought until he took that bottle over to George and found out what Tigger had done. George didn’t seem upset at all but Mike was. He apologized once again for his son, grateful that George Hadley didn’t just blow up his town based on the antics of one demented, rambunctious, and overzealous mini-man and began his search.

  The classroom of the old elementary school was lit by two lanterns. They added enough light and the kerosene heater provided warmth.

  “You hold your age well,” Tigger said as he sat on a teacher’s desk. Bertha was in a chair across from him. “How old are you?”

  “Actually or psychically? I was frozen.”

  “Cool. Both.”

  “Thirty-one psychically and thirty-seven by birth date.”

  “You look good. We have a lot in common, you know.” Tigger gave an ‘up’ of his head.

  “Is that so? How do you figure?”

  “We’re both freaks of nature.”

  Bertha laughed. “Hardly. You might be but not me.”

  “You don’t think?”

  She fluttered her lips in sarcasm. “You think nature gave me this body? I worked hard for it. Nature gave me the height but the body is all my doing.”

  Tigger was in awe of her body. She was over six feet tall but there wasn’t an ounce of fat on her, muscular but not too ripped. Her waist was thin, her face plain pretty, and she was squared jawed in a masculine way. If she let down that hair … Tigger would swear she was one of those body builder women on the magazines he used to collect.

  Tigger winked. “You’re doing a great job. I work out.”

  “I see that.”

  “Yeah, you’re big and buff. I’m little and buff. We’d make a good team.”

  Bertha slightly rolled her eyes.

  “At least you’ve stopped calling me names like shit head and fuck up.”

  “I’m not as angry anymore. Time does that.”

  “True.” Tigger tilted his head.

  “Besides,” Bertha said, “I’m way past the point of being pissed at you. My anger is geared toward President Hadley and his lack of concern for my whereabouts.”

  “He’s busy, maybe.” Tigger shrugged. “Are you hungry yet?”

  “No.” She shook her head.

  “Need anything?”

  “No. Just do your thing and watch me like you’ve done all evening.”

  Tigger chuckled. “I can’t help it.” His eyes began to case her as she sat in the chair. The green fatigues she had on were worn and fit in a soft manner over the contour of her legs. The seams crept up slightly inward giving a tease of vision between her partially open legs that Tigger would have sworn she widened on purpose when she knew he looked. His eyes shifted up. “You cold?”

  “No.”

  “You look …” He nodded at her. “Cold.”

  Bertha at first gave a quirky look then her eyes shifted down. She knew she should have worn more padding in her bra. Her large breasts pressed hard against the fabric of her tee shirt.

  “Not cold?”

  Her back arched slightly. “No.”

  Tigger slid from the desk and dropped to his feet right before her. He stepped closer. He was so small he was in comparison to her. Her knees were barely passed his chest. Tigger chuckled. “Well, I’ve found another advantage to being this height.”

  Bertha’s mouth dropped open as she peered down to Tigger. He grinned with a crocked smile and an ornery twinkle to his eye. “How old are you?”

  “Physical years or mental years?” He inched even nearer.

  Bertha swallowed. “Both.”

  He winked. “Let’s just say, on both accounts, I’m legal.”

  Mike blasted in. “If you li
ve through this. Tig, what the fuck?”

  “Oh hey, Dad.” Tigger stepped back. “I’m just watching the prisoner.”

  “She isn’t a prisoner, you asshole.” Mike walked to the chair. “Ms. Callahan, I really apologize for this. I don’t know what to say.”

  Bertha shook her head. “It’s all right. It had its perks.”

  “Tig.” Mike held out his hand. “Keys.”

  After a groan, Tigger slapped the keys in his hand then Mike walked to behind the chair and uncuffed Bertha.

  “This was uncalled for,” Mike said apologetically. “Again …”

  “No.” Bertha rang out her hands. “I was only cuffed for a short period of time.” She looked at Tigger.

  Tigger smiled then when Mike looked at him, he turned serious.

  Embarrassed, Mike shook his head. “Look, I can’t kill him, but if there’s something you want me to do, I will. I just don’t know …”

  “May I handle it?” Bertha asked. “I won’t kill him either but I think I can teach him a lesson.”

  “Dad?” Tigger took on a fake frightened tone. “No.”

  “You won’t kill him?” Mike asked.

  “Nope. Maybe I’ll handcuff his little ass for a while and torture him.”

  “Dad?” Tigger’s voice shivered.

  Mike snickered. “When do you want him?”

  “Send him to me tomorrow.” She wrung out her wrists.

  “I’ll bring him personally,” Mike told her.

  Bertha nodded then turned and left.

  Mike was ready to explode. He wanted to verbally blast Tigger and even took a few huffing breaths prepared to do so. Turning to Tigger, Mike was armed with a vast array of parental scolding comments and readied to attack. “Goddamn it, Tig! What … what …” Mike tilted his head when he noticed that Tigger just stared out. “Why in the world do you have that look on your face?”

  “It’s fear. You gave me up to the beast.”

  “Yeah, well … don’t you think you deserve it?”

  “No.”

  “Too bad.” Mike turned Tiger toward the door. “Home for now. Tomorrow you face the music and I hope to God she keeps you for hours.”