“Thanks for the useless advice,” Jean-Paul snorted as he rose from the table. “You can finish your lunch, but I just lost my appetite.” JP tossed enough money on the table to cover his share of the bill, then stormed out of the restaurant. Eric was right JP thought to himself during the short walk to his office. Gays, lesbians, transsexuals, non-whites, non-Christians, and women were wasting their time waiting for bigots like Mitchell to accept them as equals. JP wondered how many people appreciated what Eric was doing for them. He wondered how many bigots realized how dangerous Eric Price could be if they interfered with his plans. The one thing he did not wonder about was his commitment to Eric. His distasteful luncheon with Mitch strengthened his already intense loyalty.
JP quickened his pace as he neared Tuteur15’s headquarters. He had to find Eric fast and let him know he was right. They needed to find a safe location offshore, beyond the reach of Mitchell and his friends.
CHAPTER 25
Jack Gentry looked forward to his monthly meeting with Eric. It had taken five years, but every name on the list Eric had given him in Skyline was finally accounted for.
Eric greeted his security chief with the same pleasant, respectful manner as always. He poked his head into the waiting area outside his office and smiled. “I’m ready if you are, Jack. C’mon in.”
Jack sat at the circular table where they usually met. “I’ve got some good news for you, boss.”
“Excellent!” Eric beamed. “You know how I love good news. What’s up, Jack?”
“We caught Mark Jensen committing a felony on video last night,” Jack beamed.
“No!” Eric gasped. “Tell me everything!”
“Two of my field agents spotted him driving a van around LA, so they followed him to see what he was up to. He picked up a young man on Santa Monica Boulevard. My team saw him hand the kid some cash so they figured he was a prostitute. The van was parked on a side street for about fifteen minutes. My guys had just switched to an infrared zoom lens when the van’s back door flew open, and Mark tossed out a corpse.”
“A corpse!” Eric shrieked.
Jack nodded grimly. “Strangled the poor kid. We got a clear shot of Mark on tape as he tossed the body. My team called 911 and tailed Mark until he was intercepted by local police. They turned over a copy of the surveillance video as evidence.”
Eric breathed deeply. “What a scumbag! I hope this sidelines Mark until he’s either very, very old or dead. The guys who caught it on video? Please give them my thanks and a generous bonus, okay?”
“I’ll see to it today,” Jack promised.
Eric rose from the table and began to pace. “I knew he was a killer, but doing it for sheer sport? That’s pure evil. That leaves just one pervert on the loose. Any word on Micky Ryan?”
“Yes, that’s my second piece of good news! Micky was dealing crack out of a fast-food joint. He always worked the drive-thru lane two hours before closing when business was slow, and my team saw the same cars pull up night after night. When we got some close-ups, we also noticed hundreds of dollars changing hands, and no sack of burgers costs that much.”
“Can I assume local police received a copy of our surveillance?” Eric grinned.
“Yes, sir! Micky was busted yesterday. With his previous record, he won’t get off with a warning this time.”
“Great work, Jack! That means all the people most likely to hurt me, my family, or Cody are behind bars or on my payroll where I can keep an eye on them. I’ll sleep better knowing Micky and Mark are no longer on the prowl.”
“Can I show you something?” Jack asked.
Eric nodded, then followed his security chief to a large underground conference room. On one wall, a map of the world displayed scores of blinking colored lights.
“What’s this?” Eric frowned.
“Every one of your potential enemies has been identified, and they’re being tracked by satellite. Our agents have quietly placed tiny electronic chips on various items regularly carried by the people we’re tracking…..keys, wallets, watches, phones, jewelry, and so on. We can tell you at any given time where they are, where they’ve been, or if two or more of them are in the same vicinity. We can do the same thing with the people you wish to protect…..give each of them an item with an embedded chip so we can track them, too. This’ll give us a heads-up in case anyone moves against you, your family, or the company.”
Eric smiled, then patted his old friend on the back. “Very impressive, Jack! Now that’s what I call going above and beyond. Can you put tracking chips in three pieces of jewelry for me?”
“Right away!” Jack nodded eagerly. Sensing the time was right for a personal question, Jack asked, “Any truth to the rumor you’re turning the reins over to Mr. Bramston?”
Eric was momentarily stunned, but recovered quickly. “Since your job is surveillance, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised you know about the change I’m going to announce. I need to devote more time to another project, so Joseph will be in charge of all day-to-day operations. How do you feel about that?”
Grateful to be asked, Jack felt obliged to answer honestly. “Mr. Bramston is very capable, but he doesn’t inspire the kind of personal loyalty you do, sir.”
Eric shrugged. “I appreciate your candor, Jack. I know Joseph isn’t a real warm guy, but he’ll do a fine job if people give him a chance. Can I count on your support?”
“Absolutely! For you, anything. You’ll still be involved with Tuteur15, won’t you?”
“I can’t imagine a time when I’m not involved, Jack. If you ever have concerns about Joseph or anything else, you can always come directly to me with them. Deal?”
Jack nodded and smiled. That’s what he needed to hear.
About to return to his office, Eric stopped, then slowly turned back to Jack Gentry. “Were the police able to ID the young man Mark strangled?”
“I didn't ask, but I can find out,” Jack offered. “Any particular reason?”
“If he was a street hustler, there probably isn't anyone to mourn him. I'd like to provide him with a decent burial. He probably didn’t realize it, but he was part of the Tuteur15 family. We champion the rights of the disenfranchised, even after death.”
“I’ll make sure he gets a first-class burial and send you the details,” Jack assured his boss.
Eric nodded, smiled his thanks, and then headed back to his office.
Jack watched Eric disappear around a corner, then muttered, “No other man I know would've thought to make burial arrangements for that hustler, including Mr. Joseph Bramston. I'll miss you, boss.”
CHAPTER 26
Christmas Eve, Minneapolis
Jerry York ran to answer the front door. “Harry! Come in! Merry Christmas, to ya!”
Harry smiled weakly, extending his own hand to shake Jerry’s. “Merry Christmas, kid. Keira here yet?”
“I’m here, Harry,” Keira shouted from the kitchen. “You’re late, as usual!” Keira’s harsh expression melted into a faint smile as she rounded the corner. “Merry Christmas, big brother!”
Keira and Harry hugged lightly. As Keira backed away from her older brother, she frowned. “You don’t look well, Harry. Did you talk to him?”
Harry nodded slowly as he handed his heavy winter coat to Jerry. “Yeah, I talked to him. No one really gets much time with him these days. I waited outside Eric’s office for about two hours with a governor, two senators, and a couple prime ministers. Finally, I was led to another room, Eric came in with his attorney, smiled, shook my hand, and then left me with the lawyer. On the way out the door, he told me to send his love to you two.”
“Pompous ass!” Keira hissed.
“Keira!” Jerry rebuked his sister. “I won’t have you talk about our brother that way! Eric is very busy. You should be proud we have such an important person in the family.”
“For crissakes, Jerry, wake up! That big shot wouldn’t even give his own brother the time of day!”
Harry stu
died the floor carefully. “He’s not that bad, Keira. Jerry’s right. Anyway, the attorney had good news. Not only have I been completely exonerated, the state is going to clear my record and award me five-hundred thousand dollars for wrongful imprisonment. Eric told his attorney to make sure the story gets in all the local papers. He also bought back my old business and gave it to me as a Christmas present.”
“That’s great, Harry! This calls for celebration,” Jerry declared. “Isn’t that guy something? Boy, he’s really incredible.”
As Jerry trailed off into the tiny kitchen, Keira and Harry exchanged mournful glances. “You’ll have to forgive, Jerry,” Keira apologized. “I’m afraid we have a slight case of hero worship in the family. You’re disappointed, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I was hoping for something a little different,” Harry admitted.
“They’re not going to try to find the creep who murdered your family, are they?”
“They found him,” Harry mumbled.
“Really? Harry, that’s great news! But you’re not excited. What’s the problem?”
“The lawyer told me they caught him committing another crime, so he’s going to prison for that one instead. He wouldn’t tell me who the murdering son-of-a-bitch is because Eric’s afraid I might try to get revenge.”
“Do you think they’re telling you everything?” Keira wondered aloud.
“Who knows?” Harry shrugged. “I just wish it could be like it used to be. All of us around the old Christmas tree on Wilson Street. Mom and Dad in the background…..”
“Dad beating Mom,” Jerry interjected as he returned with a silver tray and three glasses. “Screaming, yelling, wondering what the neighbors are thinking, wishing the night was over. Is that the past you want to return to?”
“Stop it!” Keira yelled. “Show a little respect for the dead, will you?”
“Well, is it?” Jerry insisted. “We can’t go back to that past and I’m glad.” Jerry handed Keira and Harry each a glass of cider. “I’m sorry Mom, Dad, and Eric can’t be with us tonight, but I’m also grateful for my health, thanks to Eric. I’m grateful Harry is a free man with his business back, thanks to Eric. I’m grateful my talented and beautiful sister is sober and has her license to practice medicine again, thanks to Eric. Finally, I’m glad the three of us are together on this Christmas Eve. Let’s drink to the things we can be grateful for and start some new Christmas traditions tonight.”
Keira, Harry, and Jerry clinked their glasses together in a solemn salute. When they had each drained their glass and set it back on Jerry’s tray, Keira cleared her throat. “You’re right, Jerry. I’ve always wished I had your forgiving nature. We’ll have a merry Christmas, even if it kills me!”
Harry wandered over to Jerry’s artificial midget Christmas tree, fingering the green plastic needles while his mind retreated to a distant past.
“If you’re gonna tell me to water that thing, Harry, you might as well know it’s fake!” Jerry joked. “I don’t want either of you giving me grief about my tiny tree!”
Keira, sensing a different kind of grief in the room, stood behind her older brother, and placed an arm around his shoulders. “What is it, Harry? Thinking about Annette and little Harry?”
“No, not right now. I’ve thought a lot about them the past few days. I was just thinking about Mom and Dad. For a little while after Eric came back to us, I actually thought we might be a real family again. Mom was getting around pretty good with a walker, and the old man even snapped back for a bit. I’ve always wondered what that long chat between Eric and Dad was all about. It was so weird the way Dad looked at us all the next day. I’d never seen him smile like that. He asked each of us to kiss and hug him. Then he just dozed off and never woke up. For the life of me, Keira, I’ve always loved Eric, but I’ve never known a man with more secrets. I can’t even begin to figure out what goes on in that head of his.”
“I know, Harry. I know,” Keira sighed. “He’s a strange one, all right. Thank God he loves us! Being related to Eric is difficult enough, but know what could be worse?”
Harry turned thoughtful, trying to guess what Keira had in mind. “No, what?”
“We could be on that incredible hit list he carries around in his head!”
Keira helped Jerry serve dinner in his cozy little apartment. He had chosen a sturdy, recently updated brick apartment complex close to his office in downtown Minneapolis. Jerry had never accumulated many possessions, so the apartment was sparsely furnished. He spent a week’s pay outfitting his kitchen to cook Christmas dinner.
Concerned by Jerry’s surroundings, Keira glanced around the apartment every few minutes, wondering if Jerry was happy. He had insisted it was time to live alone, though Keira had tried her best to convince him to stay in Skyline.
“I have some important news,” Keira announced to her brothers. “I’ve been offered a position at a hospital in Chicago. Chief of Cardiothoracic Surgery.”
“Keira, that’s wonderful!” Jerry cried. “Are you going to take it?”
“I guess so. My work is my life now. I’ll have the best equipment and be surrounded by some of the most talented surgeons in the country. I can’t turn it down. Who knows when I’ll get another opportunity like this?”
“When will you make the move, Keira?” Harry asked.
“January,” she replied softly as she touched Harry’s arm lightly. “I know this is unexpected. I also realize the three of us will be living in different cities, separated by hundreds of miles, but we’ll still keep in touch. We can call each other every week, and get together for holidays.”
“You don’t have to justify your decision to me,” Harry grinned. “It’s time we all get on with our lives. Jerry’s taken the boldest first steps, and now you. Guess I’m next.”
Jerry felt the tension, so he changed the subject swiftly. “Let’s open presents! I’ve been waiting to play Santa for weeks now. C’mon.” They moved a few paces to the living room. Harry and Keira sat on the sofa while Jerry distributed gifts.
Eric’s Limousine
Eric gave his chauffeur instructions, then slumped back into the soft leather cushions. He carefully removed the last letter his mother wrote to him from his coat pocket. Already memorized, seeing her handwriting comforted him, so he read her words once more.
“Dear Eric, I’m so happy you brought the family together again. I prayed I would live long enough to see us all under one roof and God answered my prayer. I promised God I would tell you all the things I should have told you long ago if he brought you back to us. Now I’ll keep my part of the bargain. I’m putting this in a letter because I’m not sure I could say everything I need to without crying. This is also the most important thing I will ever tell you, so I want to get it right without any interruptions.
From an early age, we knew you were different. You never cried as a baby. You taught yourself how to count before you were two. By three, you were speaking in whole sentences. When you were four, you could do complex math. We often found you reading the encyclopedia before you began kindergarten. In the first grade you took an IQ test and scored one-eighty. You were tested again in the fifth and ninth grades and did even better. Experts say anything over one-forty is considered genius. Your teachers had no experience with someone who had such a high IQ. After many discussions, we all decided to treat you like a normal child, and not make a big fuss about your intelligence. I realize you were probably bored in school since you already knew most of the material, but you never complained. We were glad when you seemed to get along well with everyone, including your brothers and sister. You fit in well at school, and with the kids in the neighborhood. Everyone treated you like just another kid, although a few people noticed you had a superb memory.
It’s no surprise you were the one to stand up to your father when you were sixteen. You saw things getting worse and knew you could care for us better without him around. Your brothers and sister told us you stole from the theater to support
them and pay my medical bills. They told me you sold drugs. I understand and forgive you. No sixteen-year-old boy should ever be in the position your father and I put you in. We are as much to blame for your crimes as you are.
When you were in grade school, your grandmother and I saw other qualities which alarmed us. You had your father’s disposition, so we feared you might develop a drinking problem. We also noticed you had many girlfriends, but didn’t seem interested in them romantically like other teen boys. By the time you were 15, I was fairly certain you were gay. I worried you would struggle with your sexuality and alcoholism, so I was determined to help you when the time came.
The day you left us, I cried because I knew you faced a long, lonely road. That night, your father held me in his arms as I cried for hours. “Look what we’ve done!” I scolded him. “God gave us a genius and we turned him into a fugitive!” Your father patted me over and over, saying, “God gave him so much for a reason. He’ll figure out how to survive without us. One day he’ll come back rich and famous.” That made me feel better, but I worried about you every day until I saw you on TV. Your father was right after all. You beat booze, accepted your gay identity, rose to the top of the business world, and made us proud of you. You became a successful, generous, and decent man on your own. I know you had help along the way from some very good people. I also know you rejected your Christian faith, but still believe in a Higher Power, so let’s give your Higher Power some credit, too.
Marcus Sloan paid us many visits. He delighted in telling us he was raising our grandson Keenan in California. His wife showed him your Air Force photo and admitted you were Keenan’s biological father. Marcus figured out that Jason York and Eric Price were the same man. He’s determined to make you suffer through the people you love before killing you. Keenan doesn’t know you’re his real father. I know you are smart and powerful, but I beg you to be careful. Marcus is a ruthless killer; a cold man without a soul. You must use all your power to exert some positive influence on your son’s life. I pray it’s not too late to reverse the damage Marcus has already done.
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