Harold and the Angel of Death

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Harold and the Angel of Death Page 5

by Gary McPherson


  Harold sat up and put his arms on his desk. He leaned in towards Joshua. “They weren’t, but, Doc, something else happened. John showed up the other morning, and I can’t tell you if I was awake or asleep, but that wasn’t the really weird part. Okay, maybe that sounds weird, but you know how confusing those nightmares can get.”

  Joshua moved himself to the edge of his seat. “What happened?”

  “John showed up in the Viking setting we used to use in our therapy sessions and warned me about Garcia. He said Garcia had made him a similar deal and then backed out of it. He told me it was because of Garcia’s broken promise that he started to suspect my dad of conspiring against him.”

  “Harry, that isn’t really surprising. You’re still trying to find a reason why John would target your family like he did.”

  Harold’s hands started to slap his desk, and then he stopped. “Listen to me, Doc. I asked Garcia, and he confirmed the whole story.”

  “You told Garcia that Richard’s ghost said Garcia had cheated his company and that your dad was involved?”

  Harold took a long breath to slow himself down. “No. I made up some excuse about overhearing him telling you right before he tried to kill you and Maria.”

  “Perhaps you did.”

  “I did what?”

  Joshua reached over and put both his hands around Harold’s large fists like he had when Harold was still a boy. “Perhaps you did hear John say that. I can’t tell you what John said to me there in the kitchen. I was too busy trying to think of a way to save Maria and myself. I saw your shadow in the hallway when I lunged towards John. I don’t know how long you stood there, but maybe he did say something and we both don’t remember it.” Joshua let go of Harold’s hands.

  Harold relaxed his fists, rubbed his face with both his hands, and let out a sigh. “Maybe, Doc. Maybe it’s all rolling around in my head. No matter how it got there, I think we should be leery of Agent Garcia.”

  “Agreed. Tell me, have you had any berserk episodes either in your dreams or when you’re awake?”

  Harold thought for a moment. “Amazingly, no. You’d think these nightmares would trigger something. So far, no furniture has been shattered, the walls are still standing, and I haven’t found any couches at the bottom of the swimming pool. Even in my dreams, I manage to keep my cool. Well, if you call waking up in the middle of the night screaming keeping your cool.”

  Joshua patted the top of Harold’s hand. “That’s perfectly normal. You have gone through a lot, and many people never recover from things half as traumatic as you’ve been through. You and your brain are still healing. I have a feeling that your heart is still coming to terms with killing John as well.”

  “I would say I’m not a killer, but I know I am. I know I saved your life and all that, Doc, but I’m still trying to wrap my head around the kind of man I can become if I’m pushed too far.”

  Joshua looked him in the eye. For a moment, he thought he was looking again at his late father, and his breath stuttered in grief.

  Joshua broke his gaze. “Harry, you saved our lives. If that’s the kind of man the berserker is, I’ll take him with me everywhere I go. I know you wanted to do more, to kill more. I saw death in your eyes. But you didn’t follow through. You controlled your rage. Never forget the kind of man you are despite what you may have felt at the time.”

  Harold wiped a tear from his cheek. “Okay, Doc. I don’t really want to talk anymore about that now. Can we talk about Garcia? He’s wanting me to move, and I want you with me. Maybe we can come up with a plan to avoid this mess.”

  Joshua leaned back in the chair. “Why are you saying we?”

  Harold felt his heart flutter. “Doc, I just assumed…I mean, I thought you’d be going along too. You mean, you’ll stay here? But I need you.”

  Joshua chuckled. “Don’t worry. I couldn’t stand the thought of looking at your empty estate, or worse, someone else living here. I’ve been here all of these years because of you and then because we all became a family. I can’t abandon you in your time of need. One day, you’ll need to stand alone, but not right now.”

  Harold scowled. “Doc, that was mean. I’m here with my heart opened and wounded, and you pull a joke?”

  “I’m sorry, Harry. I wanted to see what you would do. Garcia keeps everybody off balance, and the men he deals with are ruthless. If you couldn’t take an out-of-place jab, I would call Garcia myself and tell him the deal is off for your own good.”

  Harold’s thumbs tapped the top of the desk. “Okay, I guess. I’m not sure it’s your place to decide the fate of Dad’s company, but I get your intention.”

  “You do know you’re more important than your father’s corporation?” asked Joshua. “Richard would never have sacrificed your well-being for his company.”

  “Yea, I’m glad you’re around to keep reminding me. Still, what do we do about Garcia’s proposal?”

  “I don’t have a clue. I’ve been thinking about it, and I can’t see a way around moving away if Garcia says that’s what it’ll take. From what you told me of your conversation, he is not leaving you too many choices.”

  Joshua looked down at Harold’s desk, and Harold did the same. There was no reason to feel defeated, and yet he did. He was going to lose his house. He was going to lose everything his father built, just like John predicted. A still voice inside reminded him that Garcia never said the move was permanent.

  “I have a question.” Joshua’s voice jerked him from his downward spiral. “What about Tom? He isn’t any older than you. Why would they make him the CEO?”

  “I argued with them about that. He has a military background and would be a great visionary for the company, but he’s no CEO. Garcia told me today that it was his idea because the two of us complement each other’s skill set.”

  Joshua’s brow wrinkled. “Would you say Tom would be open to suggestions from others since he is inexperienced?”

  “I had never considered that. Do you think the board is running the company by proxy through Tom?”

  “Or Garcia,” suggested Joshua.

  Both men sat back in their chairs.

  “What’d I do?” asked Harold.

  “Nothing. At least not for the moment. If Garcia is really trying to help your company, it may be for the best, but let’s keep our eyes and minds open.”

  Harold sat back up and typed a couple of keys on his laptop. A picture of Tranquility Bay Beach House Resort popped up on his screen. A smile crept over his face as he watched the live feed of the small swimming lagoon at the resort. “You know, Doc, this might not be half bad.”

  “What are you looking at?”

  “Some resort’s live camera feed on Marathon Key.”

  “Yea, it is beautiful there, but it’s beautiful here too.”

  Harold closed his laptop. “What if we make Garcia arrange for tenants to stay in our homes? I mean, I don’t know how long we’re going to be gone, but the thought of leaving both homes empty for any extended period concerns me. After all, we hear about squatters all the time on the news.”

  “I’m not sure Maria will go for that. She is very picky about her house, and she takes a lot of pride in your home. I’m not sure how she will feel about strangers living in either place.”

  “Why don’t we get together with Garcia tomorrow and see what we can come up with?”

  “What about Maria?”

  Harold’s face allowed a broad smile to stretch across it. “Bring her. In fact, ask her to call the caterer and have them bring us a spread of fresh fruit and some burgers. Nothing helps bring out the truth in people like an intimate pool party among friends.”

  Joshua rose. “I could ask Maria if she’ll prepare the food.”

  Harold rose with him. “No, Doc. She isn’t our housekeeper anymore, and I don’t want to start making her feel like she is.”

  “Maria isn’t a woman who likes to be pampered. Your idea may backfire.”

  Harold grabbed the
back of his chair and thought for a moment. “You’re the doc. Arrange things with Maria however you think is best.”

  “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go let Maria know. We don’t have much time. So, noon tomorrow?”

  Harold moved from behind his desk. “I’m telling Garcia to be here at 1 p.m., but you both can come over anytime you feel like before then.”

  The two men headed towards the front door.

  Chapter 7

  Joshua glared at the Hyatt Regency valet. “What do you mean I have to pay you to park? We’re just going in for a drink at the Watertable.”

  The young man placed his hands on Joshua’s door. “Look, I’m trying to do you a solid. I just ask you do me one back.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  The young man leaned closer to the driver’s window. “Let me spell it out for you. You give me a decent tip, and I park your vehicle so all you have to do is walk out of the bar and go straight to your car.”

  “I never,” protested Joshua.

  The young valet reached for the door handle, and Harold’s large hand slid between Joshua’s seat and the window. He laid it on top of the valet’s hand that still gripped the window frame of the door, encompassing the young man’s hand as well as his wrist and part of his arm. The young man froze and looked closely at the rear passenger window. His eyes grew wide, and he jerked his hand free of the door and back away.

  Annoyed, Joshua cruised away from the hotel, fussing as they went. “Who ever heard of such a thing? Valet-only parking for a restaurant. We live in Malibu and aren’t this pretentious. Why did Garcia insist we meet him down here anyway?”

  “He said he had business down here today,” offered Maria.

  “Doc, you’ve driven us down PCH and passed a plethora of restaurants along the way. Let’s just pick one.”

  “I don’t think Agent Garcia will approve of a sudden change in venue.”

  Joshua turned north on the Pacific Coast Highway and Harold pulled up a map on his iPhone. “Doc, I found a place, Ola Mexican Kitchen. It looks good, and it’s only a few blocks north of here.”

  “Look,” Joshua pulled over to some metered parking spaces just outside the restaurant, “it’s just as I thought.”

  They stopped, and Joshua slid the console gear lever into park. Harold reached between the seats and pulled it into drive. The car lurched and Joshua hit the brakes. “Are you crazy?”

  “Are you allowed to say that?” he made sure Joshua saw his sarcastic smile in his review mirror.

  “Boys, am I going to have to drive?” Maria asked, clearly annoyed.

  Harold responded, “Look, you don’t know where that guy works. For all we know, he could park cars and pour drinks. You don’t want to end up with something special added to your beer, do you?”

  “I think you’re being a little paranoid, Harry.”

  “Whatever, I’m in the mood for Mexican anyway.”

  “I don’t think Garcia will like the sudden change in location.”

  Harold humphed in frustration. “Maria, what do you want?”

  “I’m always in the mood for good Mexican food, but it better be good.”

  “I’ll text Garcia,” volunteered Harold.

  “Fine,” said Joshua. “But don’t be surprised when Garcia calls to yell in your ear.”

  Joshua pulled back onto PCH and made his way towards the intersection Harold’s smartphone had showed on its GPS.

  “Ha! See, Doc. No worries. Garcia says he’s looking forward to seeing us there.”

  “Hmm,” said Joshua, “it’s almost like he expected that.”

  “Now who’s paranoid, Doc?”

  “I think both of you are paranoid, and I’m hungry,” Maria said.

  Joshua found the underground parking lot and parked his car.

  The group sat in the covered patio of Ola Mexican Kitchen overlooking the Pacific Coast Highway with a perfect view of the more touristy area of Huntington Beach. The sun poured in from the patio windows facing the beach. Tourists, surfers, and locals just enjoying the beach played and relaxed in the white sands across the street from the restaurant. Inside there was a large dark wooden bar, and tall tables and chairs were scattered about the eatery. Their table was near the far corner where they had a clear view of the surfers and the Huntington Beach Pier. Harold closed his eyes and enjoyed the sounds of people talking, laughing, and the calm feeling of the cool Pacific breeze.

  Maria’s voice rose slightly above the music and interrupted his Zen moment. “Harry, are you okay?”

  Harold grinned and opened his eyes. “Yes, I wanted to soak in the moment.”

  “I know what you mean,” said Joshua. “Yesterday I thought I could leave here, and now I’m not sure.”

  A waiter came up to get their drink orders.

  “Give me a Sierra Nevada,” said Harold with a hint of sorrow in his voice.

  Joshua responded, “The lady and I would like rum runners.”

  Harold jumped back in, “And a round of waters and queso fundido for the group.”

  The waiter left, and Harold turned to Joshua and raised his eyebrow. “Rum runners? Did you guys turn into heavy hitters on your honeymoon?”

  “Oh, yes,” said Maria with a smile on her face.

  Joshua jumped in quickly behind her. “It’s a drink I had while I was in the Keys. It grows on you. Imagine multiple rums, some liqueurs, and incredible fruit juices. It’s delicious.”

  “That does sound good, Doc. Maybe I’ll give it a shot if we go to the Keys. New places and new habits.”

  “That’s the spirit,” said Joshua. “Now, if I can just grab hold of that same attitude.”

  Harold gazed out at the late afternoon sun that was beginning to head towards the ocean. He heard a chair being dragged across the ground behind him. Garcia sat down between him and Joshua.

  “Good afternoon, everyone.”

  Harold asked, “How can you not remember your sunglasses? It isn’t that bright in here.”

  “Oh, yea.” Garcia removed them and slid one arm of the sunglasses inside his shirt above the last closed button. He was dressed more like a tourist than a native. He wore a tan panama hat and a button-up two-tone blue shirt with orchids on it. A pair of tan khaki shorts and sandals wrapped around his white-sock-clad feet completed the outfit. For the first time, Harold thought Garcia stuck out from part of the crowd, but the crowd seemed to take no notice. To them he must look like another Easterner they prayed would not move to the over-populated coast. Garcia flicked his hand at the first waiter he made eye contact with and ordered a beer.

  Harold threw out the sarcastic question to Garcia. “So, are you on vacation or just an undercover tourist?”

  Garcia ignored the quip. “Something like that. Like I told you, I’m heading out on assignment for a few days. So, are you guys joining me in the Keys?”

  Harold, Joshua, and Maria all looked at one another, and Garcia slowly made eye contact with everyone. “Well?”

  Harold cleared his throat. He needed to talk above the thumping of the bar music, but he did not want the rest of the room listening to their conversation. He leaned in closer to Garcia. “We have a couple of questions. Well, they’re more like favors.”

  “Demands.” Joshua leaned towards the two men. “They’re demands.”

  Garcia looked over at Joshua. “I see. I suppose you coming along is one of those demands.”

  “Yes,” responded Harold.

  Garcia looked up at Harold and then back at Joshua and Maria. “It’s already taken care of.”

  “What?” asked Joshua and Maria together.

  “Please, we’re CIA.”

  Joshua and Maria rolled their eyes.

  Harold interjected, “There’s more. None of us plan on staying in the Keys forever. All of us agree that if we move to the Caribbean, we’ll return once the company is back on solid footing.”

  “How do you know you’ll want to return?” asked Garcia.
/>   Harold leaned over so his broad shoulder was touching Garcia’s. In a low rumbling voice, he answered, “Because we don’t want to leave in the first place.” His voice relaxed, “So, our homes need renters. None of us want to return and find squatters.” He sat back. “So, do we have a deal?”

  Garcia seemed unintimidated and looked around at the group. “How do you propose we handle this? You three don’t have time to interview prospective renters. Is the CIA supposed to house sit for a few years?”

  “Years?” asked Maria.

  “Months, years, I can’t say. I’ve learned never to give promises or timelines on these sorts of projects. Parabolic Defense Systems is going to be making money because of the CIA. We can control that. However, getting back into DOD’s good graces is outside even the purview of the CIA.”

  “Then what are we doing here?” asked Harold.

  “Patience,” replied Garcia. “I can’t make promises about the DOD’s timeline, but I can promise it will happen.”

  One server walked over with a platter full of drinks and another followed with the appetizer. Everyone grabbed their glasses after the staff left and toasted one another. Maria took a quick sip and grabbed one of the appetizers with Garcia following suit.

  Harold sipped on his beer and stared at Agent Garcia Hernandez. Garcia pretended not to notice and turned his attention towards Joshua.

  “Doctor, I trust you enjoyed your honeymoon in paradise?”

  “We did indeed,” Joshua said with a smile.

  Maria leaned across the table. “We spent most of our time at the beach or in the water. Joshua took me snorkeling. The fish were beautiful.”

  “If you liked snorkeling in Hawaii, you’ll love the Caribbean. The waters are crystal clear, and you’ll be close to the third largest reef in the world.”

  “That does sound like it could be exciting.”

  Joshua broke in, “I’ve learned that if every day is a holiday, then no days are a vacation.”

  “So, you’re saying we’ll get bored?” Maria asked.

 

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