Confession (2 page)

Outside Sam’s house he was being stalked.

Billy Stein was stalking Sam and Billy was a bully of a man with a temper to match.  He sat inside his brand new
1995
Chevy Impala, with Mississippi plates, a few houses down from Sam’s house. 

He watched while Sam chatted with the Allied moving men outside their van backed in Sam’s driveway. 

“It’s about fucking time,” Billy mumbled to himself, as he was relieved Sam finally retired from the FBI.  

He waited and sipped on his third bottle of Budweiser while he eyed Sam’s house.
   He lit up a Marlboro cigarette
.  He
smoked and drank beer while he
watched the moving men load
Sam’s furniture into the moving van.

Two hours later, the men closed and locked the rear doors of the Allied trailer. 

They got inside the truck cab, started it up, and drove off down the street.

Billy started up his Impala and drove off after the moving van.

Then for some bizarre reason, Billy followed the moving van a
ll the way to Florida.

He drove back to Mississippi, as soon as he got Sam’s new address in Daytona Beach.

T
en years had passed.

It
was a nice cool morning in February across the southeast.

Allan Stein was Billy Stein’s brother.  Allan had thinning gray hair, with a huge pot belly caused by years of bad diet,
being lazy,
smoking and heavy drinking. 

Allan lived in St. Cloud, Florida.  He was a retired Army Lieutenant Colonel and spent his entire career with the Army Criminal Investigative Command (known as CID) up in Fort Gillem at Forest Park south of Atlanta.  He retired from the Army twenty years ago after a successful thirty-year career, where he w
as one of their most respected CID A
gents.

Allan picked St. Cloud for his retirement home since his daughter Becky Adams lived in nearby Kissimmee.  Another reason was that Disney was close by, and Patrick Air Force Base was another hour to the
east for any military needs. 
In addition, he frequented the Daytona Beach area but stopped those travels five years ago.

Allan spent his golden years writing fiction murder mystery books, which was an idea born during the late 1960s.  He decided to make it profitable, as he did not want all his CID experience to go to waste. 

Allan sat inside his den where he had his Dell computer, lazy boy chair, television and a wooden cabinet locked with a pad lock.  On
the
one wall hung pictures of Allan, his wife Beverly and Becky.

Allan sat at his computer desk where his six murder mystery books rested on a shelf above him.  The titles were; Die My Darling, Prison For Life, No Remorse, Mr. Kind, The Church Man, and The Stalker
. 
These books supplemented his Army retirement but never became best sellers.   

Allan listened to a local country and western radio station with a
Lucky Strike cigarette
that dangled out of his mouth while he typed away on his new Murder At Night manuscript.   He planned to send it to his editor, Rodney Burstein, in a couple of weeks.

“Dad, where are you?” Becky yelled from the living room the second she entered his house with her key.

“I’m in the den, darling,” Allan responded then quickly smashed his
Lucky Strike
out in the ashtray on his desk.  He opened up a desk drawer and hid the ashtray inside and tried to wave away the evidence.

Becky with shoulder length blonde hair entered the den with a gym bag in hand.  She sniffed the air and instantly knew he was smoking.  But she gave up scolding him about that nasty habit since it only went in one ear and out the other
side
.

She dropped her gym bag on the floor, walked up to Allan and gave him a loving kiss on his cheek.  “How’s the new
manuscript
coming along?” she asked while she curiously eyed the monitor.

“I’m tweaking the final draft now.  I’ll send it to Rodney in a couple of weeks,” he answered.

“I’m ready to edit your manuscript when you’re done.”

“I’ll give it to you in a couple of days.  And Rodney, is also talking about another book after this one.”

“You should slow down and enjoy your golden years.”

“No way.  I love writing
what I know best
,” he replied while he revised some dialogue then saved and closed the Word file.

Nancy, his seven-year-old granddaughter and Michael, his nine-year-old grandson ran into the den.  “Grandpa!” they both cried out in unison, as they loved Allan.

“Nancy!  Michael!  Come give Grandpa a hug and kiss,” he called out while he opened up his arms.

Nancy and Michael ran up to Allan and they each gave him a loving hug and kiss on his cheek.

Becky sat down in the lazy boy chair, grabbed the remote and turned on the TV.    She flipped through the channels and stopped on the Disney channel where a cartoon played.

Nancy and Michael ran over and sat in front of the TV.  Then Nancy eyed the wooden cabinet over at the other wall and she got curious again.

She jumped up and rushed to the cabinet.  She fiddled with the pad lock and tried to open it.  “Grandpa, are you sure you don't have toys stashed in here?”

Allan got annoyed and rushed over to her.  “I've told you before sweetie, please leave that cabinet alone!” he lightly scolded her while he removed her hands off the lock.

“Yes Nancy, grandpa doesn't want you to see his Army secrets,” Becky said with a sarcastic tone.

Allan playfully stuck his tongue out at Becky while he walked Nancy back to his chair and plopped her on his lap.

“Like I’ve said a million times before, it’s just a bunch of old Army stuff in there.  No toys.  Now, why don't I tell you a new story!” he offered with a wide grin.

Michael's eyes lit up with joy and ran over to them.   He sat down on the floor.

Allan placed Nancy on the floor next to Michael.

“Okay, this is the story of Prince Luna from the planet Neileon.  The story starts off with six young animals that lived and were best friends at the Kennedy Space Center.  They lived an hour from this house.  There was a gator, skunk, rabbit, bob cat, a snake and a poodle that loved watching all the rocket launches,” he told them.

“What were their names?” Michael curiously asked.

“Well, the gator was named Wally.  The skunk was named Stinker.”

Michael and Nancy snickered. 

“The snake was named Slither, the Bob Cat was named Putty, and the Rabbit was named Bugsy.”

“Just like Bugs Bunny,” Nancy called out.

“Yes, just like Bugs Bunny.  Let me see, oh yeah, and the poodle was named Touché,” he added.  “Then one day, Prince Luna flew his space ship to Earth but was shot down by some mean Aliens from his home planet.  His spaceship crashed landed down at the Kennedy Space Center one night.”

“Did he die?” Nancy asked being concerned.

“Oh no, he was found by the six animals friends who called themselves the Dreamers.”

“Whew!  I’m glad,” Michael said while he wiped his forehead being relieved.

“Why are they called the Dreamers?” Nancy curiously asked.

“Well, because they dreamed of being Astronauts and going on adventures in space.”

“I’m a space dreamer!” Michael called out while he puffed out his chest.

Allan and Becky chuckled.

“See Dad, you should write kids books instead of books about murder,” Becky praised Allan.

“With my thirty years of Army criminal investigative experience, I write what I know.  It comforts me.”

Becky rolled her eyes then she got up from the chair.  “What ever.  I'm going
to change then go
jogging.   Then we'll head out after I take a shower.”

Allan continued with the story while Becky grabbed her gym bag and headed to the bathroom to change.

An hour passed and Allan finished his story about Prince Luna and the Space Dreamers. 

He
went back to work
on his
new
manuscript.

Becky returned from jogging was taking a shower.

Michael and Nancy sat on the floor and watched another Disney cartoon while Becky finished her shower and dried her hair.

A few minutes later, Becky entered the den.

“How was the story?” she asked Michael and Nancy.

“It was great!” Michael replied with a huge grin.

“Good,” she said then looked at Allan.  “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, just let me save my Word file and shut down the computer.”

Thirty minutes later, Becky drove them in her Toyota Sienna mini-van to the Heavenly Peace Cemetery in Orlando.

“I still don’t understand why you choose this cemetery instead of one closer to home,” she said while she drove her van into the entrance of the Cemetery.

“This one felt right
to me
,” Allan responded then coughed a little and cringed sharp pain shot through his chest.

Becky rolled her eyes while she pulled into the cemetery parking lot.  Sometimes she never understood Alan’s way of thinking but knew she could not change his stubborn mind.

After she parked the Sienna, Becky removed a hand trowel and a pot of Daisies they bought at Lowes. 

They walked through the cemetery and stopped by a headstone.

“Beverly Stein, Loving
and Caring Mother.  Born June
18
, 1938, Died February 8, 2001” was carved in the white Granite headstone.

Becky knelt down at the headstone and removed the dead Daisies.  She used the trowel and planted the new Daisies.

“I don't remember Grandma that much,” Michael said while he stared at the headstone.

“You were around five years old when she died.  But she sure loved you and would always kiss your cheeks,” Becky replied with a warm smile while she dropped the Daisies into the hole.

Allan walked away twenty feet and lit up a
Lucky strike
cigarette, as he could
never
fight off the addiction.

“Did she love and kiss me?” Nancy asked.

Becky frowned when she saw Allan while he smoked.  “Of course.  She loved you very much and I can imagine she’s blowing you kisses from heaven, right now,” Becky said while she scooped up some nearby dirt to seal up the flowers.

Nancy blew kisses at the sky.  “I love you grandma,” she said and blew some more kisses.

Michael rolled his eyes thinking his sister was goofy.

Allan saw Nancy blowing kisses at the sky and smiled then took another drag on his cigarette.  Then Allan went into a bad coughing fit and turned beat red.  He coughed so hard he coughed up blood that dripped down his chin.  Then he looked concerned and dropped to his knees and vomited.  There was lots of blood involved.

Michael and Nancy moved away at the sight of the bloody barf in the grass.

Becky rushed over and got Allan to his feet.  “We’re going to the emergency room,” she said then rushed him through the cemetery.

Nancy and Michael lagged behind afraid Allan might vomit at any given second.

Becky drove Allan to the Florida Hospital in east Orlando.  During the drive Allan had a few more coughing fits.  Nancy and Michael cringed in the back seat afraid he would vomit again.

At the hospital, they ran a bunch of tests and released Allan the next morning.  Becky picked him up and drove him straight home.

On Friday morning, Becky drove Allan to his doctor’s office to hear the results of the tests.

Allan, Becky, and her husband Marty waited in the doctor’s office.

Dr. Alicia Kennedy entered the office with a folder in hand.  She looked serious while she walked over and sat down behind her desk.  She opened up the folder and looked at the test results again.  She paused while she glanced at everybody’s waiting eyes.  “Allan, I'm afraid your tests indicate you have lung cancer and it's stage four.  You also have cirrhosis of the liver,” she said and hated these moments.

Becky's eyes welled up and Marty comforted her.

“What does this mean, Doctor Kennedy?” Becky asked and feared the news would not be good.

“It's terminal.  I would estimate that Allan has about eight to twelve months.  We could try some treatments but there’s no guarantee it will go into remission.”

Becky sobbed and Marty comforted her.  “Let’s get started right away,” she said between sobs.

Allan looked shocked, as he knew everybody was going to die but he thought he had at least twenty more years to live.  Then he accepted his fate of having a year at the most.  “No!  I don’t want any treatments.  Just let it run its course,” Allan said looking serious.

“Dad, it’s worth trying,” Becky pleaded.

“She’s right dad,” Marty added.

“No!” Allan said with a firm tone and got up and walked out of the doctor’s office.

Becky sobbed in her hands.

“I can prescribe something to relieve any pain he will endure,” Dr. Kennedy offered.

Becky nodded in agreement while she blew her nose into a Kleenex.

A week later, Allan sat in his fishing boat with his brother Billy in Lake Tohopekaliga near St. Cloud.  Becky accepted Allan’s opportunity to tell his brother about his condition.  They quietly sat with their fishing lines in the water.  Allan just broke the terrible news to his brother.

“It can't be possible!” Billy said while his eyes welled up knowing his big brother would be dead in months.

“I can't stop it Billy.”

Billy looked extremely concerned.  “I’m so glad you burned our secret years ago.  That was smart.”

Allan looked caught.  “Well, about that.  I never burned it.  But don’t worry I have it in a safe location.  You can trust me little brother, nobody will find it
at least while we’re alive
,” Allan said and looked confident.