“Could be dangerous. The connections to law enforcement could spell trouble.”
“Not if we take them out at the same time, one giant accident.”
“Where are they now?”
“Alarcon is in Blaine, the elder St. James is in Barrows Bay, and the younger St. James is traveling. He suffers from acute depression after the death of his wife and unborn child. He’s spiraling downward and out of control; no one will miss him.”
“I didn’t ask about his state of mind. I asked where he was. Quit stalling.”
“We don’t know, not yet. But he always goes back to his company, St. James Mindwerks, in New York City. He will again, or we’ll find him wherever he’s hiding out. Give me a couple of weeks, and I’ll wrap this up nice and tidy.”
“You said that a decade ago. Didn’t turn out as you predicted.”
“That was then; this is now. We need to move forward, not look back.”
“She’ll have all our hides if we cock this up again. She’s watching all of us but has taken a special interest in this little project. You’re on point; don’t screw up.”
“Then we’ll do this right and eliminate them once and for all. You should have acted a decade ago. This fiasco is on you if anyone asks.”
Chapter 1
Adam St. James was the only child of the marriage of Edward St. James’s to his wife, Anna. Edward thought his family history of untimely tragic deaths portended some sort of multi-generational revenge on the clan St. James; Adam didn’t believe such ridiculous myths and legends. However, Edward had objective data on his side; the first wives of the St. James men in direct lineal descent did not fare well. Going back over a hundred years, a significant number of young women died young in childbirth, or due to illness or through misadventure.
Edward’s parents came from a long line of hardy immigrant farmers from England and France who settled in the mid-west establishing roots in Iowa. They led quiet lives, worked the soil to eke out a living and raised a family through good times, plentiful rain and bumper crops tempered with sadness, disappointment, and drought.
Phineas St. James had lost his first wife and daughter in an automobile accident. He remarried, this time to an academic he knew well, Edna Mason, a political scientist from his native state of Iowa. She was a lovely woman who was born and raised not more than one hundred miles from where Phineas and his first wife grew up together. Edward’s parents were academics, religious and quiet; what beef could anyone have with them? Or, for that matter, their unruly and precocious child with an exceptional IQ.
After high school, Edward left for the west coast for University; shortly after, both his parents died in an automobile accident.
Edward met and married Anna Theal, a woman he met by accident while attending UCLA. Both were archeologists, Anna in field work and Edward in the emerging field of forensic archeology. They held off having children, but when Anna missed her period after five years of marriage, they celebrated and welcomed the news that they were expecting a child, a son.
Their only son was fit and healthy, so no one paid too much attention to the quiet and studious boy who seemed unable to burn off his excess energy in socially acceptable ways; eventually, his parents had him psychologically and academically evaluated at the age of four. Adam had anger and rage issues in him, making the boy, at times, almost impossible to manage. He was sent from one therapist to another, sometimes lasting only weeks; his acting out was at times too much for even the most experienced therapists to handle.
Something inside Adam rebelled against the obvious fact that his parents adored him; a fact that was somehow lost on him. His parents were inexplicably confused; their son was gifted, but his intelligence only seemed to exacerbate his emotional challenges. His therapies did not go well; later he would admit that the only thing he learned in therapy was that, in the world of adults, there was often a disparity between what adults said and what adults did. Adam loved his parents, but he had trust issues with everyone whose last name wasn’t ‘St. James’ and whose first name wasn’t ‘Mom’ or ‘Dad.’
“Do as I say, not as I do,” was a phrase he later learned was more truth than fiction. Edward and Anna stopped his therapy and quit listening to the constant and facile advice to medicate him. Instead, they kept their own counsel and decided on a different form of therapy more suited to their brilliant child: keep him busy and challenged. They put young Adam to work on their family hobby, computers and software development, giving him responsibilities, structure, and a massive dose of unconditional love.
Against Anna’s wishes, Edward enrolled Adam in a jiu-jitsu class at the Victoria Institute, where Edward and Anna were Fellows, under the tutelage of Olympic medal-winning Instructor, Bill “the Bellman” Archer. Edward thought it best to teach the boy self-discipline through martial arts as a way to control his anger and prevent potential outbursts with other kids. Adam drew even more introspective after that; jiu-jitsu did, however, gave him an outlet for his pent-up negative emotions. Adam could work the bag with punches and kicks to his heart’s content until all the rage for that day had dissipated. Archer also introduced the boy to Muay Thai and other martial disciplines, so the little kid grew up confident and secure. Archer and his father instructed Adam that his skills were unique and he should only use them to protect himself, his family and those who could not defend themselves. His anger curbed and better controlled, his confidence in the love of his parents restored, he settled into a quiet life of a formidable physical and intellectual kid, small for his age but toughened and guided by an internal moral compass of right and wrong that would remain with him for the rest of his life.
His mother and father always admonished Edward to “use his words” and, if to no avail, do what he thought was right. Fighting was to be the last option; walking away from bullies and idiots was a sign of strength, not weakness. He could take any of them any time; doing so unnecessarily proved nothing, they said. What he knew inside was what mattered, not the taunts of bullies. Adam heard the messages loud and clear and never started anything, and though a quiet and shy boy, was one who was never tested after a certain point in his childhood by the boys at the Institute. A few tried; they all failed.
Then, when he was eight, he met a girl. She was a friend of the family living in Seattle, the daughter of his father’s best friend, Carlos Alarcon. Misti Alarcon was everything to him; she understood and adored him. From the moment they laid eyes on each other, it was love. Love that endured until one day it didn’t. Life was painful after that; relationships with women did not form, and his trust issues returned with a vengeance.
He was twenty when his world fell apart.
In high school, the girls were mostly uninterested in the studious teen who many of the boys liked to stay away from. His fashion was ‘uncool”, he was uninterested in pop music, social events and lacked “school spirit.” He was called a lot of names from “hothead” and “weirdo” to “psycho” and “fag,” usually by boys who tried to bully him or just didn’t like the quiet, but studious teen. Name calling was almost always behind his back, but even when said directly to his face, he was impassive. Most boys had little to say to the kid who was so unconnected to the typical school experience. Introvert and outsider were what parents and teachers thought; a pure academic, that’s all.
Most kids knew the truth. Adam was nerdy and geeky, quiet and not socially adept but was a good kid and a loyal friend. He was always approachable; the younger, weaker kids looked to him for protection from bullies. He wouldn’t hurt anyone unless provoked by his unique moral code. The guys all knew that Adam had never started a fight in his life but had ended more than one by his early teens. On occasion in Middle School, he had warned bullies to leave the nerds and geeks alone, especially the quiet kids, the smaller kids, and the loners.
One teen in high school told his newly arrived girlfriend, “He looks harmless unless provoked by some kid, then it is best for kids to steer cl
ear of him. He can be dangerous, and I mean ‘emergency room’ dangerous. If I’m not around and anyone ever bothers you, if Adam is around, ask for his help. He’ll protect you even if I can’t.”
Word got around after that, and although he never had a local girlfriend or much female companionship in high school, never went to a dance or a Prom, it wasn’t uncommon for Adam to get a call at night to come back to school and walk a girl home. His parents hoped this would spark something else in him, but Adam never saw the connection. Walks home with girls were often slow and chatty, not something Adam did much at school and usually ended with a thank you kiss. Parents in their small town of Barrows Bay never worried if Adam was around. He was a good kid, and a daughter was always safe with him. His odd behavior, however, was not an inducement to romantic feelings; girls were curious, but no chemistry ever seemed to develop.
Adam thought only of Misti Alarcon, his girlfriend in Seattle; he believed she returned his love in kind.
When he graduated from high school, one of the girls invited Adam to a party, a party she knew he would never attend. Adam didn’t go to parties, preferring the solitude of study or working out on the bag in the gym. Instead, the party came to him. Over twenty girls attended who were still attending or had attended high school with Adam over the years; no guys were invited. It was Adam’s club, and this was his farewell “thank you” before he left for college at CalTech.
The party was in the Chapel at the Victoria Institute that had not held a service in years. That was not to say it was never used; it’s where the local teens went to be alone and away from prying parental eyes. Adam’s parents knew that this was mostly harmless hormones. His friends Sheila Cooper and Mitzi Anders had organized the event, so there might be a little misbehavior just this once. Edward spoke to his wife about being constantly overly concerned about the emotional wellbeing of her son. Edward said this was a well-deserved thank you, and, after all, they had once been young and were probably much less well behaved. Anna smiled. She admitted she might have had some experiences rolling in the hay with a few boys as a teen.
One of the girls, Sheila, had experienced more than one run-in during high school with unwanted attention from older boys. She was cute, but whether blessing or curse, she had “developed” early and by high school, all sorts of nicknames were floating around school about her. She avoided dating, which always seemed to end in a grab-fest. On one occasion, as Sheila left the library, she was approached by several boys who wanted to talk. On this occasion, Sheila didn’t want to talk and told them so. She was in distress as Adam walked out of the library, witnessing that Sheila was hemmed in by four boys and unable to walk away.
Adam shouted, “Sheila, C'mon, we’re going to be late. Your folks will have my hide if you’re not back by five. I’m invited to dinner. It’s your mom’s pot roast, so what are we waiting for?”
“I … I didn’t know, I mean I forgot. We better get going.”
One of the guys said, “Sheila and I aren’t finished talking, St. James. So back off. I’ll tell you when we’re done here.”
“No, you’re done now. I suggest you back away from my girl and be respectful. I don’t like bullies, and I’d rather not hurt you. But keep this up and I will.”
The boy, a transfer from another school, was big and brawny but not the super athletic type. He looked at the wiry and shorter Adam and assessed it would take no more than a punch or two to take care of this pest. He wanted some alone time with Sheila, and he was going to have it. His three friends warned the new kid that he was making a big mistake. It was better to leave now and for the new kid to forget about Sheila then and forever.
Adam stepped over to Sheila and grabbed her hand. “Time to go. We’re late.”
The kid grabbed Adam by the shoulder to spin him around and punch him. That was the last thing the kid remembered until he woke up on the ground, seeing stars.
Adam walked Sheila home, spoke to her parents and said not to worry, this wasn’t his first intervention and that the local Constable, Mark Eaton, would likely visit, but Sheila could explain what happened.
“Better that she rests up. I’ll watch out for her at school. She’ll be fine.”
Sheila’s parents weren’t sure whether to thank Adam or call the Constable. They spoke to Sheila who confirmed everything; then they called the school. The Principal called back to assure Sheila’s parents that Adam was a good kid, this had happened before and that the Constable, Mark Eagan, never had a problem with what Adam had done in the past. Time was always of the essence when Adam acted, and there was no way for the Constable to get on scene fast enough.
“He’s Junior Olympic Jiu-jitsu level for his age group. But he doesn’t fight or compete, just spars. His mother is an old-school hippie pacifist and will not allow him to enter fighting events. But he’s a hand full when provoked. Your daughter said he tried to walk away with her without provoking the kid, but the kid grabbed him and tried to punch him; she was afraid the kid was going to assault her too. You should thank him. By the way, he’s a top student, doesn’t party, use drugs or drink, smoke or ever cause trouble. I think Sheila may be able to confirm that too, but I’m told he’s mostly quiet and shy and keeps to himself at school. He only goes to the Prep for his friends. He graduated from high school at fourteen and had been doing post-graduate work at CalTech since then. Slow and steady progress. His mom wants him to socialize and have a normal life. He could probably have had a Ph.D. by now if he wanted.”
Sheila took the next day off and stayed home. The day after, Sheila saw Adam sitting alone as usual in the library and came over to his table.
“I wanted to thank you for you know, that stuff that happened the other day. My folks were a little rough on you and asked if you might drop by sometime for dinner – pot roast – and so they could thank you and get to know you a little better.”
“Yeah, of course. I need to tell my folks, but I think it’ll be alright. What time and when?”
“Six tomorrow night, but you can still walk me home after school if you want to. I mean if you didn’t have anything else you needed to do.”
“Are you kidding? Whatever I had planned is officially canceled.”
“The other day you told those kids that I was your girl, which we both know isn’t true. The big kid wouldn’t know or care, but the other three hadn’t heard we were going steady. Nobody had. It’s all around school now that we’re dating and we’re together.”
“I know. But it seemed like the fastest way out of the problem at the time. I’m sorry if I embarrassed you. I can tell other kids we just broke up or I just made it up. Rich fantasy life. I mean who’d believe I could ever have a great girl like you as my girlfriend.”
“No, no. That’s not it at all. Not even close. Any girl would be lucky to have you as a boyfriend. Of course, you might have to socialize a little; let girls know who you really are. Talking to a girl might help too.
She paused, something else was on her mind.
“But what I wanted to ask if it’s OK with you, I mean I was just wondering if you would let everyone know that we are a couple. I don’t have a boyfriend, and I don’t even know what that would be like.”
“It’s all right. I know what you want. And I’m fine with it. Adds to my rep, even if it’s just for show.”
“It wouldn’t be like that at all. I would never …”
“Sheila, I’m a shy, geeky, nerdy type but I’m not blind. I know you don’t have or want a boyfriend. You have someone else special in your life. It’s a secret, and it will stay that way.”
“You knew? Does everyone …?”
“Not from me. And I doubt it. I know Mitzi too, and she’s a nice girl. We go to the same Church in Victoria; my parents have known her parents forever. I’ve known Mitzi and about Mitzi for a very long time. Ask her; we talk. Her secret has always been safe with me, and so is yours. Besides she goes to that private Catholic High School in Victoria. I
doubt anyone here even knows her.”
Sheila cried and hugged Adam, which didn’t go unnoticed by the other students. Then she gave him a big kiss and closed up her book.
“I wish I liked boys. I’d love to really be your girlfriend.”
“Or maybe if I was a girl, I could win you away from Mitzi though I do love Mitzi too. You two could be sisters.”
“Just between us girls, I do have a girlfriend, Misti Alarcon, just not here in Barrows. She lives in Seattle. Maybe we could double date some time. Just be careful; Misti likes girls too.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Why should I? She’s there; I’m here. We have hormonal urges; we have to be practical.”
“Then can I kiss you every day? In public. I’d love to double date sometime.”
“Consider it a done deal. I’ll ask Misti if she can come up for a visit. Her Dad and mine are best friends. They always enjoyed visiting, and I think they want Misti and I to tie the knot someday.”
“You’re a lot different than most guys. I don’t think most guys would be as open-minded as you.”
“Well, she’s there. I get some compensatory mercy sex now and then. I’m not completely without female company.”
“You do the …”
“No. That’s only for Misti. But you know there are other things a girl can do for a guy. I get lucky from time to time.”
“Anyone, I know?”
“I don’t talk about you, so I don’t talk about them. I keep secrets, and I keep my word.”
“Maybe Mitzi and I can date you sometime. Together. Would Misti mind?”
“No. But she’d want equal time once she visits.”
“I’m always ready for that. Tell her to hurry up for a visit.”
“Done.”
Patsy Murray Page 2