The Veritas Deception

by Lynne Constantine

  “What do you think?” Taylor asked Jeremy.

  “I think it could work. I could have my men surprise his security and take them out. I also have a connection there, who will help me keep Crosse contained if necessary.”

  “Who?” Taylor asked.

  “Jonas, his house manager. We’ve been working on him for the past few weeks. His granddaughter died. He blames Damon.”

  “What happened?” Taylor asked.

  “She was one of the kids that died trying the choking game from that show.”

  Taylor looked puzzled. “I don’t understand.”

  “He knew that Damon was behind fixing the Supreme Court case against the parents.” He nodded. “This might actually work.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE

  “Bail denied. The defendant will be remanded to the custody of the Hillsborough County Sheriff’s,” the judge said as she slammed the gavel down.

  Arnie’s face went white, and the bailiff cuffed Jack and led him away.

  Hillsborough County Jail—Valley Street Jail—as the locals referred to it, was no place for lightweights. Sure it wasn’t a prison, just a jail, but that made little difference. The worst of the worst started their journey in a jail before heading off to prison.

  The cells were full of men on trial for murder, drugs, rape, and other assorted crimes. Arnie had assured him that, unlike Jack, most of them were guilty, and that Jack better show them he was more than a pretty face, or it would be a long year waiting for trial—if he made it that long.

  The first night was the defining one. Jack had to make the transition quickly if he wanted to survive.

  It was lights out, and as he lay on his back he waited for the initiation to begin. He figured it would happen in the next hour or so. He evened his breathing and completed a quick visualization. Every muscle in his body was tense, and he listened for telltale sounds. He pretended to be asleep. He was ready.

  He heard Finley, his cell mate, first—the creak of the metal bed as he got up. Jack remained motionless, his eyes closed. The swish of coarse fabric—thigh against thigh—as others approached the cell. He estimated that there were three plus Finley, not counting the crooked guard who would be letting them in. The whining of the door as they entered was his cue.

  He sprang up from the mattress and gave the first man a swift upward punch, smashing his nose. He went down. Jack shoved his fingers into the second man’s eyes. He pushed until there was no more resistance, and the man screamed in agony.

  Jack felt a searing pain in his leg and realized he’d been slashed. Where did that come from? He turned and saw Finley dancing in front of him, waving the weapon in the air.

  “Come on, big shot. Come and get it.” He was grinning at Jack.

  The last man came up behind Jack and threw a meaty arm around his neck. Jack didn’t resist but fell back against the man in surrender.

  “Not so tough, now, huh Logan? It’s Miller time.” He recognized the voice. It was Albert Miller. He’d made himself known to Jack earlier in the day.

  Jack bent his head forward, then snapped it back hard, gratified to hear the sound of cracking bone. Miller cursed as he released Jack and his hands went to his own face. It was now or never. Jack rushed in and grabbed Finley by the balls. He squeezed. Hard. Finley screamed as he swiped at Jack. He got two more swipes in, but Jack didn’t let go.

  “Get off me, you lunatic.”

  “Drop the knife,” Jack said.

  Finley opened his hand.

  Jack leaned down and took it, releasing his grip on Finley.

  “Tell your friends to get out of here before I finish them off and blame it on you.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-FOUR

  Damon Crosse froze when he heard the voice on the other end of the phone.

  “Hello, Father.” The sarcasm was palpable.

  Damon scowled. “Have you called to confess the error of your ways?” He couldn’t wait to vent his fury on Jeremy. But first he would let him know that all his efforts at redemption were in vain. Yes, he would make him suffer for his betrayal.

  A loud sigh. “I’ve no patience for these tiresome games. I have something you want.”

  “And that would be?”

  “The last ten coins. You’ll finally have them all.”

  His body tensed. “What do you want for them?”

  “My mother’s cross and her journal. I presume you still have them?”

  “You presume correctly,” Damon answered.

  Jeremy continued. “And to work out a peace agreement. I’ll leave you alone if you’ll do the same.”

  He laughed. “You take me for a fool. You cannot seriously expect any peace between the two of us. You have betrayed me and everything I believe in. There is no peace.” He felt the anger rise again and resisted the urge to smash the phone against the desk. The insolence!

  “Fine. You’ll never see them. Taylor and I will deactivate them so they will never do you or anyone else any good.”

  He clenched his teeth. “All right then. We shall talk. Perhaps we can come to some sort of cease and desist agreement. You must bring the silver pieces.”

  Now it was Jeremy’s turn to laugh. “So you can take them and kill me? No, I’ll bring half to prove they’re authentic and to show my good faith. The rest will stay hidden. After we speak and you give me what I want, I’ll text you their location when I’m safely gone again.”

  He was dying to get his hands on the silver pieces, but this was too easy.

  “You are willing to give them up just for an old book and a piece of jewelry?”

  “It’s all that’s left of her.”

  What a sentimental fool. “How do I know that you’ll really tell me where they are after I let you leave? Why not just take her things and disappear again?”

  “You’ll just have to trust me. I’m the one with the coins, remember?”

  “Fine.” He hung up. What a fool. Jeremy was stupid to believe he’d ever release the journal to him. He’d trade him the cross for the five coins Jeremy brought with him, but he’d tell him he wouldn’t get the journal until the last five coins were handed over. Damon would trade a journal for them, but it wouldn’t be Maya’s. He would soon have all the coins. And once he did, he’d never stop looking for Jeremy until he hunted him down and killed him. If Jeremy understood the power he was handing over, he would never make such a deal. Not only would they unleash demonic power that would be in Damon’s control, but they would also restore his youth. Some even said they could make you immortal. He wasn’t sure if he believed that, but with another forty or fifty years and to have more supernatural help, there would be no stopping him. Everything would be accomplished so much more easily, and the access he would have, oh the access—it was something he had only dreamed about. He thought of his beloved mentor and whispered, “Oh Father, if only you were still with me. What we could do together.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-FIVE

  The first thing Taylor did when they reached Carl’s and Betty’s house was to sit on the floor and embrace Beau. He licked her face as he jumped, delirious with joy. She was as thrilled to see him.

  “So good to see you, baby. I missed you so much.” She showered his head with kisses. He finally settled down and put his head in her lap. She looked up at Gilly. “I can’t thank you enough for taking such good care of him.”

  Gilly shook her head. “Nonsense. It’s been a pleasure having him. Truth be told, I hate to see him go.”

  Jeremy came into the kitchen. “Let’s go find Carl.”

  Taylor followed Jeremy down the stairs to the basement. He walked over to a bookcase, pulled a book out, and the bookcase swung in, becoming a door.

  “You’re kidding?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. Sometimes life does imitate art.”

  She followed him into the hidden room and watched as he replaced the book and the door shut. It was a tremendous space with lab equipment, comp
uters and lots of machines that Taylor had never seen before.

  “How have you managed to keep this place a secret? They found your hideout.”

  “They think Carl is dead. Knowing Crosse was likely to discover my connection to him years ago; I knew he’d have him killed. My people made it look like they were dead, that he and Gilly had a car accident. This isn’t on their radar.” He made a face. “Despite his delusions of grandeur, he’s not omniscient.”

  Carl walked in from yet another doorway located at the end of the room.

  He embraced Taylor and led her to a chair.

  “My, dear. I’m so glad you made it back safely. I’m so sorry to hear about Jack.”

  Taylor’s face clouded at the mention of him. It killed her not to be able to go see him, to try and help him, but it was too dangerous to come out of hiding. Jeremy put his hand on her shoulder. “You okay?”

  She nodded. “What if he goes to prison? He needs my testimony to prove he killed that man in self-defense.” She and Jeremy had argued about it. She wanted to go to the FBI to let them know the truth. But he reminded her that her priority had to be her child. And even though she knew he was right, she hated doing nothing while he sat in jail. After all, Jack’s only connection to Crosse was her. She sighed.

  “If all goes according to plan, I’ll get the evidence we need, they’ll arrest Crosse, and you can come out of hiding. Once you come forward, I’m sure they’ll drop the charges,” Jeremy said.

  “I’ll testify too, Taylor. I’ll corroborate that Crosse was searching for you and you were on the run,” Evelyn added.

  Jeremy put a hand on her shoulder. “Try not to worry. You’re a credible witness—the wife of a senator. Your word will hold enough weight for them to release him.”

  She looked at Evelyn. “Everything’s all set on your end?”

  “Yes. Jeremy will have five minutes to get his men on campus. My contact will text me when the tape is replaced. Jeremy will take my phone with him.”

  “Is that long enough for your people?” Taylor asked.

  “Yes. They’ll be hiding in the woods, waiting.”

  Taylor looked at Jeremy, then at Evelyn. “Just to be sure, we’re going to need you to stay here, until Jeremy gives us confirmation that you’ve done what you promised.”

  Evelyn looked hurt. “You still don’t trust me? Taylor, I’ve raised you since you were fourteen. I’d never hurt you.”

  “I didn’t think Parks would either.” She softened her tone. “I do think you’re telling the truth, but I can’t risk Jeremy’s life or my baby’s life. Carl has told me there’s a safe room here. You’ll be locked in it. If you are trying to double-cross us, no one will ever see you again.”

  Evelyn was studying her face, probably trying to psychoanalyze her right now. Taylor had to convince her that she was capable of carrying out her threat. “If I’ve learned anything, it’s that the rules only apply to the weak,” she said. “Don’t forget, Crosse’s blood flows in my veins. I don’t want to hurt you either, but, if you’re lying to us now, I’ll know you were part of the plan to kill my mother. That, I won’t forgive, and that, I will avenge.”

  “I guess we’ll know by tomorrow night,” was all Evelyn said.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-SIX

  Jeremy pulled up to the iron gates and felt a shiver go through him. He was looking forward to the look on Damon’s face when he realized Jeremy’s true intent. He pressed the button on the video monitor and held his hand up, displaying the coins. The heavy gates opened, and he drove on to the property. Reaching the door, he was escorted to Damon’s office by one of the security officers.

  “You’ve aged.” Jeremy looked at the man who had been the center of his universe for most of his life. He was surprised to realize that all he felt was a deep sadness. Where was his hatred? His anger? His thirst for vengeance? When he looked at him, all he saw was a tired old man. Frail almost. Then, his father blinked and Jeremy saw that steely glint of something otherworldly still there in his eyes. He recognized at last what had been there all along—the complete and utter absence of any goodness or humanity. His sympathy evaporated.

  “Let me see them.”

  “My mother’s things, first.”

  Damon opened a desk drawer and brought out the cross. He pushed it toward Jeremy, on the desk. “You get the journal when I get the other five.”

  “That wasn’t the deal.”

  Damon shrugged. “It is now.”

  Let him think he had the upper hand. Jeremy would find the journal himself once he took over the facility. He played along. Jeremy picked up the cross and put it in his pocket. He reached in his other pocket for the coins. He handed them to Damon.

  Damon grabbed them eagerly, clutching them in his fist, then opening his hand to hold one up to the light. He studied the one side of the coin—a Grecian profile wearing an aegis—then turned it over to look at the eagle on the other side. He eyes shone with excitement.

  “You must tell me where the others are.” He clutched the coins to him.

  “In good time. We have other things to discuss first.”

  His lip curled in a sneer, and he looked down at Jeremy. “Your conversion? You are weak. Just like your mother.”

  Jeremy laughed. “Your words don’t have the power to hurt me anymore. I can’t even summon enough feeling to hate you.”

  Damon laughed, a dry, mirthless sound. “Tell yourself whatever you want. You were never good enough, never came close to measuring up. I expected great things from you, but you’re weak and soft.”

  Jeremy looked at him without flinching. “I suppose you think you’re strong? Powerful? Were you powerful when your father killed your dog in front of you? Or when he beat you with his belt?”

  Anger flashed in Damon’s eyes. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. My childhood is none of your business. It has nothing to do with who I am today.”

  “Oh, I disagree. I think it has everything to do with you. And it’s not very original. The abused child grows up to be the abuser. Straight from the psychology books. You’re a tired cliché. The only difference is that your second abuser turned out to be rich and adept at using the occult to his advantage. He manipulated you, and your entire life’s work has been nothing more than the completion of another man’s dream.”

  “How dare you! Do you know what I can do to you? What I will do to you? No one has manipulated me. No one controls me. I’m the one in control. It’s my world, and don’t you ever forget it.” Spittle flew from his mouth, and his face contorted like an ugly purple balloon. “I’ll kill you myself.” His hands twitched by his side.

  Jeremy remained calm. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You can’t touch me. I belong to God now. It must kill you that my mother’s prayers actually worked.”

  Damon leaned forward. “You belong to me. You are nothing, and your God has no power here. He couldn’t save your waste of a mother, and he can’t save you.” He pushed the button on his desk and looked at the door expectantly.

  Jeremy laughed.

  His father whirled around and demanded. “What’s so funny?”

  “No one’s coming.”

  “What are you talking about?” Damon’s mouth opened, but no words came out.

  “Your security has been disabled. While we’ve been having this nice little father-and son-chat, my men have taken over your facility.”

  “How?” He finally managed to ask.

  “You should take more of an interest in the personal lives of your employees. Then you would have known that Jonas’s daughter was one of the plaintiffs in the Supreme Court case you rigged. He tipped me off about the DNA sequence. I’ll get your dirt file. That’ll be enough to take you down.”

  Damon ran to the door. It was locked. “What happened to my guards?”

  “Oh, Evelyn helped us with that.”

  Damon shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. There is nowhere you c
an hide. We will find you again. Go ahead and walk out the door.”

  “I want the tape of my mother. The one that proves you killed her.”

  Damon laughed. “You’re insane if you think I’d ever give that to you. I’ll kill you and add you to the collection.”

  “You’re not going to kill me or anyone else. You’re finished. You couldn’t even produce an heir the right way. How ironic that your only two children are both on God’s side now. We will fight you until our dying breath and do everything in our power to neutralize your insidious influences. I’ll go through your files and prove what you’ve done. This time I’ll take it to someone who will actually help us. You’ll spend the rest of your pitiful life in a cell.”

  Damon laughed again. “You fool. Do you really think you can undo decades of my seeds? Take a look around you. You’ve already lost. Look at this.” He pulled a black leather book from his center drawer and threw it toward Jeremy.

  Jeremy looked at the first page, which was a table of contents. Subjects were listed in alphabetical order: abortion, alcoholism, depression, divorce, drug addiction, murder, pornography, prostitution, rape, suicide, and trafficking. He turned to the first tab and saw that the abortion rates by state were displayed in a bar chart by year. The bars went up every year. He thumbed through more of the book and saw the same trend.

  “There are also cross-referenced graphs. It’s quite fascinating, Jeremy. As a scientist, you will appreciate the synergy. You see, as the laws governing pornography were eased, the depression and divorce rates spiked as well. There are correlations between so many of the laws and the corresponding consequences. And it’s so easy to accomplish. In the beginning, it was more difficult. Especially the pornography. But now with the Internet, we can get it to kids. We’ve yet to see what that affect that will have on future generations.” His mouth was a ghoulish slash. “Isn’t it wonderful? You will never stop this train.”

  Jeremy’s stomach lurched, and it took everything he had not to strike him. “We have stopped it. We’ll be cleaning house in Congress and in the courts. You won’t win. There are still good and decent people who don’t want a world like this.”