The Wallis Jones Series Box Set - Volume Two: Books Four thru Six

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The Wallis Jones Series Box Set - Volume Two: Books Four thru Six Page 40

by Martha Carr

They moved as quickly as they could down the last set of stairs and rounded the corner toward the office in the back of the house.

  “Did you come back in this way?” asked Wallis.

  “Seemed reasonable,” said Alan, as he lowered himself back into the hole.

  “Do you ever sound like you’re losing it?” asked Wallis as she helped lower her mother into the hole. Alan was already underneath the house. “Get ready to crawl, Mom.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I dressed for it,” said Harriet, as she dropped below the house.

  “You next,” she said to Ned. “And feel free to nudge your grandmother.” She kissed him quickly as he easily lowered himself and was gone.

  “I shot somebody, twice,” said Wallis, gripping Norman’s arms.

  “He would have killed you,” said Norman. “We have to go,” he said, holding out his hand to help Wallis down into the hole they had designed in their suburban home.

  Wallis dropped to the ground underneath and could see Ned just crawling out of the opening five feet in front of her. She followed the narrow path carved out of the concrete slab toward the small amount of light. Small pebbles dug into her knees and the palms of her hands. She moved quickly out of the way of the hole, trying to leave just enough room for Norman to drop down and scramble right behind her.

  They stood up behind the large bush as Alan went around to the backyard to see if anyone was coming from that angle.

  “So far, so good. You up to carrying your mother in law for a good mile?” asked Alan. Wallis noticed he was trying not to smile.

  “Let me,” said Ned, stepping forward. “You’ve got to be getting tired,” he said, stepping in front of Alan, holding out his arms.

  “He’s right,” said Norman. “This must be what it feels like when you realize your replacement is here and you can go.”

  “Get over yourself,” said Harriet. “I’ve been in that position for a while and managed to get on with things.”

  “Boom,” whispered Wallis.

  Alan and Ned were able to get a fast walk going, moving steadily between houses toward the north, only stopping once to give Ned a chance to catch his breath.

  “You need me to take over?” asked Norman, shaking out his arms.

  “No jokes right now, Dad,” said Ned as he got ready to help carry his grandmother again.

  “I wasn’t making a joke,” he whispered to Wallis as they trailed behind, scanning in every direction the entire way for anyone who might be following them or taking aim.

  “I know,” said Wallis. “It’s already begun. He thinks we’re not quite up to things.”

  “I don’t think he includes you in that estimation. You’re holding a gun,” he said as he walked backwards for a little while.

  “Okay, then, just you.”

  “Ouch, nice. Alright, I’ll quit fishing for compliments.”

  “You’re making jokes because you’re scared. I get it. I’m way too far out there to give you an answer right now. I’m holding it together just barely to get us the hell out of here.”

  Norman reached out and took her left hand, holding it tight as they kept up the pace, making their way to Broad Street where a car waited by the old Short Pump gas station that was just a relic these days, waiting to be torn down.

  The car was parked in the shadow of the small wooden building, underneath the dilapidated wooden awning. They put Harriet quickly into the middle of the back seat and Norman got in behind her as Ned ran around the car and got in on the other side.

  “You’re riding shotgun,” said Alan, as he slid into the driver’s seat.

  “Off to your house?” asked Wallis. “Your wife must be a saint.”

  “She is,” said Alan, “but you’re not staying for long. Just enough time to get you loaded up with supplies, your go bags and to switch cars. Then you’re off to the Midwest.”

  “Again. Not the first time I’ve suddenly had to jet out of town. Except last time I was rescuing someone else. It’s different when they are aiming straight at you,” said Wallis, straining against the seatbelt as she looked out the different windows. The gun rested in her lap.

  “You okay?” asked Alan, glancing over at Wallis.

  Wallis looked at him and didn’t say anything at first. She was trying not to think about it and was aware of Ned sitting right behind her, listening.

  “I’m not glad that I took someone’s life, no matter who he was,” she said, choosing her words carefully, “but I’m tired of running and I’m not going to let anyone choose for me when I die.” She wiped away the tears that were coming down her cheeks and took in small sips of air. “I’m not fighting people, no matter what it looks like,” she said, the tears still streaming down her face. “I’m fighting for our lives, and I won’t apologize for that.” She covered her face in her hands.

  “You have done a wonderful job, my daughter,” said Harriet. “And tonight you answered the question for yourself. You can let go and just do what needs to be done, even when it’s crazy and out of control. Welcome to our lives.”

  Wallis felt herself getting close to a tipping point of sobbing and kept taking in deeper and deeper breaths. “Thank you, Mom. Thank you everyone,” she said. “Alan, you put your life on the line to help us tonight. I won’t ever forget that.”

  “You sure no one will think to look for us at your house, Alan” said Norman, leaning forward to squeeze Wallis’ shoulder. “I don’t want to leave you in any kind of danger.”

  “I’m good. There’s been no sign that anyone has been watching my house or following me. I’ll be able to take care of myself.”

  “I’ll need to let Laurel know that we’ve left and to move all of my cases over.”

  “We planned all of this out,” said Alan, calmly, nodding his head as he turned down his road. “Laurel’s been prepared so she’ll know what to do.”

  “This was one of the best things we’ve done so far. What took us so long?” asked Ned.

  “We were trying to keep what we used to have,” said Wallis, looking out the window, ignoring the ache in the middle of her chest.

  “We were never really those people,” said Ned, patting his mother on the shoulder. “That was all a lie, a fake front that was bound to come apart eventually.”

  “You are a very smart grandson,” said Harriet. “Eventually the truth comes out. We were never a suburban dream.”

  Wallis turned around so she could see everyone in the back seat. “I know it wasn’t real but for years that was my reality. That was me. It takes a minute or two to catch up to a totally different world.”

  “Time’s up,” said Harriet. “You want to be happy? Embrace what is.”

  Alan’s wife was waiting for them when they got out of the car and stretched their legs, finally able to take a deep breath and walk around for a moment. Ned followed Joe into Alan’s front yard to pee.

  Wallis leaned back against the car, trying to calm down just enough to tell herself over, and over again, it’s okay. It had to be done.

  She had no idea how her mother carried the weight of all of those years and the bodies left in her wake.

  Once inside the house they handed over their phones and Alan quickly wrapped each one up in a cloth napkin, smashing it with a meat pulverizer on a wooden cutting board. Their go bags were waiting for them, lined up on the round kitchen table. A new phone was in the side pocket of each one. Wallis and Norman each had an extra burner phone.

  “Remember, only check in with a burner phone and then get rid of it. No long phone calls to anyone in his area and never from a traceable phone. Send messages the way we worked it out through the right channels,” said Alan. “Hopefully, this won’t be necessary for long and we can get back to a less armed way of living. In the meantime, safe travels,” he said, reaching out to hug Wallis, “don’t stop until you’re well out of the state, and tell Madame Bella hello for me.”

  “It’s Mother Elizabeth now, I think,” said Wallis. “Although by now, her
name could have changed a couple of times. That’s one good thing that’s coming out of all of this. We will get to see an old friend or two.”

  Wallis noticed Ned’s face light up when she said that and wondered if Ned was still talking to the girl who had helped his escape George Clemente at the airport just months ago.

  “Juliette will be there, I imagine,” she said, as she watched Ned look away.

  “Don’t press it,” Norman said quietly, as he picked up his bag and headed for the door.

  “The car’s already loaded with food and sleeping bags, just in case. I’ll let Lauren know the plan has been activated and I’ll take good care of Joe. Till we meet again,” said Alan, as he put out his hand to Norman.

  “Anyone who risks their life to save my family gets a hug,” said Norman, as he squeezed Alan around the neck. “Tell Father Donald I’ll be back before he knows it, again.”

  “It’s like a family vacation,” said Ned, as he picked up his bag and then one of his grandmother’s. “We’re all here, together.”

  “Very good spin you’re putting on things, son,” said Wallis. “I’m going to need to take lessons.”

  “We should really take him on more vacations,” said Norman. “I can see him telling our grandchildren someday about all of our late-night dashes across the country. Maybe we can mix in a story or two about the Grand Canyon or Disneyland.”

  “Or England,” said Harriet.

  “Really, Mom?” asked Wallis.

  “That’s on your bucket list, isn’t it?” said Ned.

  “Time to go,” said Alan.

  Ned reluctantly bent down to hug Joe hard and bury his face in Joe’s fur one more time. “Love you, Joe,” he whispered, as Joe licked his face.

  “I’ll take good care of him,” Alan repeated, smiling at Ned. Harriet gave Joe a hand signal and he went to go stand next to Alan.

  “Why hand signals?” asked Ned. “Why not commands?”

  “So that she could tell him something without making a sound, just in case, right mother?” asked Wallis.

  Harriet smiled at her daughter. “It’s in your DNA,” she said.

  They helped Harriet into the large SUV first, helping her into the third row with a pillow letting her spread out. Wallis reached over the seat and spread a blanket across her mother.

  “Are you all set?” asked Wallis. Harriet smiled and nodded her head. “I saw you have more than one bag. You brought all of your purses, didn’t you?”

  “I can only go but so casual, dear.”

  “Then, I have a surprise for you,” said Wallis, “that should make things even easier. And early Christmas present.” Wallis went around to the back of the car and lifted the hatch, looking through one of the cloth bags in the back. She pulled out a neck pillow and shut the hatch, walking back around to the back seat.

  “It’s a Wallis Simpson and Edward neck pillow,” said Wallis, tapping the red pillow. “Look, it even has a picture of Edward wearing a crown.”

  “That was a fleeting moment of grace,” said Harriet. “This isn’t something I gave you and forgot about, is it?”

  “You can fall asleep looking at them,” she said, adjusting the pillow around her mother’s neck. “And no, it’s not. I found it online,” said Wallis, gently hugging her mother.

  “I knew you liked your name,” said Harriet, pulling the blanket up to her neck as she shut her eyes.

  “Okay, Ned, back seat is all yours. Feel free to spread out. The small screen is loaded with a few games and some movies.”

  “Father Donald helped me pick them out,” said Norman, smiling.

  “Great, a minister helped you. Cool,” said Ned, rolling his eyes as he stepped up into the back seat. “Hey, you got Battlefield One! Pleasant surprise,” he said, buckling in and picking up the wireless control.

  “Headphones,” said Wallis, handing them over. “We’re escaping a group of rogue Watchers in style. Feels wrong.”

  “Like you have to just barely escape or it didn’t count,” said Norman, as he slid into the driver’s seat. “Let it go, Wallis. There’s no actual manual for any of this. We got a little bit of luck this time because we stopped waiting for something to happen and acting like there was a chance nothing would. We had a plan for gunmen arriving to try and kill us and it worked.”

  Wallis saw Alan run back toward the house and wondered if something was going wrong. He returned holding a small azalea in a green plastic pot.

  “Here, take it,” he said. “It’s from my greenhouse. Always carry a plant from your homeland whenever you travel. That way you’ll eventually get pulled back here.”

  Wallis took the small bush through the open window. Tiny buds were clinging to the thin branches.

  “Keep it warm,” said Alan. “It’s not big enough yet to fight off a hard freeze.”

  “Thank you, my friend,” said Wallis. “I’m going to miss our talks.”

  “There’ll be more. Take good care of the azalea. You’ll be back, soon enough,” he said, turning to go stand by his wife and put his arm around her as she started to wave.

  “You think we’ll ever be able to return?” asked Wallis, balancing the plant in her lap.

  “We have to come back for Joe,” said Ned, looking anxiously out the window.

  “I do. Here, you can put the plant between us. It’ll be safe. Can’t say when or to what we’ll return to, but one way or another this will all end. And all of us will live to fight another day,” he said, starting the engine. They pulled out as Alan and his wife waved goodbye and they headed down the long driveway.

  Wallis took a long look back wondering if Norman was right. She was trying not to think about the dead man she left back in the house, trying not to think about whether or not he had a family. She kept looking out the window as she brushed away a tear. “I’m not the same person,” she whispered too quietly for anyone else to hear.

  Chapter 10

  President Ellen Reese stood behind her desk in the Oval Office tapping nervously on the back of the tall leather chair. She pulled down on the edge of the grey Glen plaid belted jacket. It fit uncomfortably over the middle but the knotted belt hid her midlife spread just enough without being too tight. She already felt the pressure from every side to look commanding and help a grieving nation.

  The pressure from other forces the average citizen didn’t even get a glimpse at was even worse. While the media was harping on about breaking a glass ceiling, the new president was trying to make sure that the side that helped her get in power wouldn’t suddenly find her inadequate or worse, a problem.

  There was a light tap at the door as her secretary put her head around the door. “He’s here, Madame President” she said.

  “Show him in,” she said, coming around the chair and taking a seat behind her desk. She sat up straight, making sure her back rested against the chair, and made a point of relaxing the muscles in her face. Ellen Reese was tired of everyone whispering that she looked like she was about to hand a constituent a poisoned apple.

  Richard Bach came through the door already talking. She hated the man and found him annoying but a necessary pest. Besides, he wasn’t her idea.

  There wasn’t a lot about this presidency that was her idea and she was starting to see that day was a long way off. For a moment, the overwhelming feeling of being a well-placed puppet came over her again. She gripped her hands together in front of her, pressing her nails into her palm till she felt the first twinge of pain.

  If she didn’t, the images of President Ronald Haynes crumpled on the floor of the hotel room, his blood seeping into the thick pile of carpet beneath his head.

  There was a laundry list of things Ellen Reese had done to move up in political power and anyone who wasn’t willing to cut corners, she thought, shouldn’t be in politics. All of it was a form of negotiation to Reese.

  But the day came when she was presented with the proposition to help kill a sitting American president stood in her mind as a hazy line t
hat was crossed into a place she couldn’t quite justify.

  George Clemente stood in front of her and listed off almost every transgression of note. He listed a few things she had quite frankly forgotten about years ago.

  There was a choice to be made. Go down in disgrace, maybe even prison or make a phone call. Just a phone call to Richard Bach.

  Clemente was sure that hearing from the Vice President would ensure Bach wouldn’t question the order and just do it. It seemed so easy, so removed from any of the real crime.

  Ellen Reese was safe for now from the wave of small acts of betrayal that clung to her. It was the last one that threatened to tip her over. It was just a phone call, she thought again. That’s all I did.

  She pressed her nails into the palm of her hand again.

  “Do you have the list of candidates for appointment to the Court of International Trade?” she asked, interrupting whatever babble Richard Bach was insisting on going on about today. Something about how grateful he was to be there, again, she thought.

  “Right here,” said Bach, handing over the blue folder. “They’ve all been vetted by the necessary sources,” he added.

  Reese looked up with a grimace. “I already knew that,” she said, a scowl coming over her face.

  “Mr. Clemente asked for a more thorough background check on each one. More of a personality profile as well as the criminal and career profiles. It appears he was looking for a certain amount of compliance.”

  Reese pressed her lips together into a hard, thin bright corral line.

  “We don’t mention that man’s name in this office,” she said. “It’s not safe, just yet,” she quickly added. There was no telling anymore who had direct contacts to Clemente and clearly Bach was receiving information directly. Reese was careful to never even appear to be unhappy with who was really in charge these days.

  “Does the Circle still see you as a team player,” said Bach, letting out a snort of laughter as he settled himself onto one of the couches.

  “Not since you were hired,” she said, looking up for a long moment till he wiped the smile off of his face. She looked back down at the list. “They assume I got a better deal with Management.”

 

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