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ACT NORMAL
A Stan Turner Mystery
Volume 9
by
William Manchee
Top Publications, Ltd.
Dallas, Texas
Act Normal
© COPYRIGHT
William Manchee
2007
Cover Design by William Manchee
Top Publications, Ltd.
Plano, Texas 75075
ISBN 978-1-935722-00-7
Library of Congress #2007922321
No part of this book may be published or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or information storage and retrieval systems without the express written permission of the publisher.
This work is a novel and any similarity to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.
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First Assignment
Stan Turner
The long anticipated first assignment came in August, 1992. I was sitting in my law office thinking back to the day I was recruited by the CIA. "Just act normal,” Mo, my CIA contact, had told me. The only problem was there was nothing normal in my life anymore, not since my son Peter had been abducted by aliens from a planet called Tarizon. The abductors were human beings who traveled in huge spaceships the size of a football field. They traveled with their slaves, an amphibious life form that, I was told, could swim as fast as a dolphin and run as fast as a gazelle. These human aliens and their slaves had been living amongst us for decades—right under our noses and we hadn't realized it.
None of this was common knowledge, obviously. Only a handful of people knew about the Tarizonian Repopulation Project. Had the press got wind of it the American people would have been outraged. It was strictly off the radar and a great effort was made to keep it that way. When Peter supposedly died everyone believed he had drowned in a flash flood near Possum Kingdom Lake in central Texas, but the truth was he'd been taken hostage to make sure I did what the CIA and the aliens wanted.
It had been over a year since Peter's disappearance. They hadn't found the body, of course, since there wasn't one. I thought of going public with the whole sinister affair, but I couldn't prove anything, not really. The aliens had destroyed all the evidence and taken most of the witnesses back to Tarizon. The few witnesses who remained were not credible. Nobody had believed them in the past, nor would they believe me now, if I tried to expose them.
Even my partner, Paula Waters, didn't know that the aliens had taken Peter. She'd seen enough during Cheryl Windsor's murder trial to understand that there were aliens amongst us, but she'd chosen not to know any more. When Peter disappeared she didn't seem to make the connection. She apparently bought the flash flood story that Mo, my CIA contact, had conjured up to explain Peter's disappearance.
I thought about Jodie, our legal assistant. We hadn't talked about the aliens since the trial. She also knew the aliens existed as she had possessed one of their weapons for a brief period—a memory gun that could steal time from those within its range. I hadn't brought it up to her because I knew the aliens were monitoring my every word. If they found out that Jodie knew anything about their existence or their mission here on Earth, they'd abduct her as well and then there would be three that were gone because of me—Peter, Dr. Gerhardt, and Jodie—because I couldn't leave it alone. I just had to know the truth.
Since the day Mo revealed to me that Peter had been taken, depression came over me like a swarm of angry bees. It wasn't just the sadness and hopelessness you'd expect over the loss of a child, but fear and dread of the future. If I strayed the least bit from the narrow course set by the CIA and our so-called guests from Tarizon, what would be the consequence? Would another of my children suddenly disappear? Would they take my wife or would I wake up one day in a mental hospital unable to remember my name?
It was difficult to get up each morning and face such a bleak existence, but I still had Rebekah and our three other children to protect. Of course, I owed something to Paula too, as her law partner. She'd been supportive and patient these last few months, but I needed to start pulling my weight again in the partnership. Somehow I had to get myself together and get back to work.
I looked down at the living trust I was working on for a software engineer and his wife. He'd been one of the founders of a successful computer manufacturing company and wanted to be sure his growing estate was properly protected. I was having trouble concentrating on the task and was relieved when the telephone rang. It was a longtime client and friend, Ben Stover.
"Stan. I'm so glad I caught you."
"Hey. Ben. How's it going?"
"Not so good, I'm afraid. I need you to come down here right away."
Ben lived in Waco, about a ninety minute drive from Dallas. He operated a small manufacturing business and had been quite successful. I didn't usually go to my clients’ offices, particularly if they were out of town. It was much more economical for them to come to me.
"We can't talk about it by telephone?" I asked.
"No. It's too complicated and we've got some tough decisions that must be made immediately."
"Why don't you and Alice come up here? It'll be expensive for me to come down to your place."
"We can't be away from the business that long. Don't worry about the money. We'll pay for every minute of your time."
"I'm not worried about getting paid. I was just trying to save you some money."
"Just come down, Stan. We've got a bad situation here."
I sighed. "Okay, but I need to know at least a little bit about your problem, so I can be thinking about it while I'm driving down."
"Oh God. I don't know where to start," Ben said dejectedly.
"Are you and Alice okay? It's not a medical problem, is it?"
"Not yet, but you know I have a bad heart. This isn't helping matters."
"Okay, just tell me a little about it."
"It's Ralph Herman, our bookkeeper. . . . I just can't believe he'd do something like this. He's been part of the family since he came to work for us nine years ago."
"Ralph Herman," I repeated. "I don't think I've met him."
"He married Peggy, Alice's daughter by her first marriage. They're divorced now, but Ralph has always been a good employee."
"So, what did he do?"
"He's been embezzling money for a long time and concealing it pretty well."
"Oh, jeez," I moaned.
This was a common problem for small business owners. The owner usually knew how to sell his product well enough but not necessarily how to run a business. He'd have to delegate bookkeeping, collections, and office management to others and trust them to be honest. Many times they weren't and this led to problems, usually serious ones.
"Yes, damn it! I can't believe it."
"How much?"
"God, I don't know; a lot. It'll take weeks to try to figure it out. We may never know the full extent of it."
I sighed. "How did he do it?"
"I don't know. I haven't been paying that much attention to the books. I can't do everything. I trusted him! Damn it!"
"Have you gone to the police yet? I asked.
"No. That's why I'm calling you. I’m not sure if I should."
"Okay, I'll clear my schedule tomorrow afternoon and drive on down. I can be there by one-thirty, okay?"
"Yeah. I'll be here—up to my elbows in shit."
I laughed. "Okay, just hang in there. We'll figure this out."
As I'd been talking to Ben, a wave of relief came over me. I wasn't sure why, but having a serious case to work on filled me with energy. Maybe it was an adrenalin rush, I didn
’t know, but my mind seemed clear and focused for the first time in weeks. There was a client in trouble and I was eager to dig into the shit, as Ben put it, and do whatever was needed to make things right.
Maria, my secretary, walked in and I smiled at her. Her face lit up when she saw me. "Well, you're in a better mood, I see."
I shrugged. "Yeah, Ben Stover just called. He needs my help. You'll need to clear my calendar tomorrow afternoon. I've got to go see him."
"Sure, I'll take care of it."
She made no effort to leave but gazed out the window over North Dallas. Then I remembered she'd come in about something. "So," I said, "did you need something?"
She blinked and then smiled. "Oh, sorry. Ah. . . yes; Mo is on the phone."
My skin suddenly turned cold. The energy I'd felt drained out of me and was replaced with a feeling of great dread. Maria gave me a sympathetic look and then left. She didn't know much about Mo. He had come into my life long before she became my secretary, but she seemed to sense my fear of him. It hadn't always been that way. At first it was exciting—exciting to be involved with the CIA even if only on the fringe of their activities. But as time went on, one thing led to another and soon I was deep into their operations. It had almost cost me my life at one point, but all that was nothing in comparison to what faced me now.
"Mo. What's going on?" I said, trying to act normal as he had instructed me to do.
"How you holding up?" he asked sounding genuinely concerned.
Mo, himself, was a decent person. At least, I had thought so over the years. He had
Act Normal, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 9 Page 1