Gabriel's Revenge (The Adventures of Gabriel Celtic Book 2) (6 page)

Chapter 14

August 21, 1998

“Frank!”

I jerk awake, lifting the hat off my eyes quickly. Frank is not there; I was still in the airport, and Abby was looking at me with concern from her perch on the seats. She had apparently been up for awhile, having a fresh cup of coffee in her hand. She reached over beside her in another seat and magically produced yet another cup, which she held out to me. I stared at it for a second as my brain shifted back into gear before relieving it from her outstretched hand.

“You don’t sleep very well, do you?” Abby asked with concern on her face.

“I have my demons,” I stated simply, before taking a sip of the hot liquid.

Remembering my dream again, I set down the cup, taking out the journal and making a note of my recollection of the dream.

There wasn’t much to write about.

I was still confounded by what the dreams are supposed to be telling me. The mysterious buzzing still echoed in my ears as I quickly shut the book and stowed it in my pack.

Looking up, I found Abby still looking at me questioningly.

“You look puzzled; anything I can help with?”

I thought about her offer for a few seconds before rejecting it in my head. She probably thought I was crazy enough without letting her in on my paranormal crap. I took up my coffee and grabbed another sip before answering her.

“No thanks, it’s nothing really. Just a little thing I’ve been working on for awhile.”

That seemed to satisfy her and she gave me half a smile, probably still worried about me.

‘Why does this young woman keep hanging around,’
I asked myself again.
‘Surely she has better things to do than hang around a grizzly old man like me.’
I had to admit to myself that she impressed me though, not something that happened so quickly under normal circumstances, especially in young people. She had a very pronounced strength of character for someone so young, very remarkable.

The plane was about ready to board. She informed me she would not be sitting with me this trip, saying she would talk to me in Atlanta if there was time, Cincinnati for sure. I also learned that she too lived in Allenville, a coincidence that gave me pause, just what were the chances of meeting someone in South America that lives in your home town?

My suspicious mind started churning this over until the speaker announced we were boarding our flight. My suspicions were immediately replaced with the apprehension that always accompanied me when I flew. I shifted gears and concentrated instead on remaining calm until we were in the air.

The plane was a small commuter job, so I experienced more than the normal anxiety on this flight. But it was a short hop to Atlanta (why are we flying south again?), where we made a quick transfer to the final plane for home.

As I sat once again in the window seat, I was again reminded of my sweet Betty. She would have loved this adventure, and I could certainly use her investigative skills to help me with what I had facing me back home.

“I love you,”
I whispered to the window, and I heard her standard reply in my head, bringing a sad smile to my face and a tear to my eye.

“Back at-cha buddy.”

Chapter 15

August 21, 1998

The man returned to his quarters, hanging his hat on the pegs by the door with the others. Moving to the sink, he turned on the water before unbuttoning the soutane and reverently hanging it too on a peg by the door. Removing his undershirt and shorts, he then headed back to the sink. Taking up the large bar of lye soap, he started by lathering up his hands under the cold water before moving up his arms, scrubbing hard as he concentrated on cleansing one section of his body at a time. The ritual continued as he worked through the rest of the body, finished only when he rinsed off his head under the faucet.

Removing a threadbare towel from a hook on the wall, he then dried everything, again, seeming to punish his skin further by excessive rubbing. It was like he was trying to rub some unseen filth from his body. Clean undergarments appeared from a small drawer next to the sink and he put these on quickly. Walking over to the wall, he removed an old well-worn robe from another hook, slipping its comforting fabric over his head.

Pulling his leather testament from the soutane’s pocket, he headed across the room, kneeling in front of a small table as he lit a candle. He then crossed himself, kissed the cross on his neck, and opened the small book. Finding the right page, he started reading the dead language like it was spilling off of the page, the words running together in what sounded like a low mumble.

It came as it always did, first the calm enveloped him, increasing as he read farther on the page. Then the quiet would overtake him as his ears seemed to close off the mortal world around him. Sight was affected next, the darkness closing in around the outer edges of his vision, forcing his focus on the small volume gently held in his hands. As his vision blurred the letters on the page before him, he continued to recite the words from memory as the characters on the page seemed to melt into a series of straight lines.

From these lines would then miraculously form the words he had been seeking, the name of the next one, affirmation that his duty had been performed well and that his work should continue.

A smile formed on the man’s lips as he rejoiced in the continued confidence shown in his labors. Making a mental note of the name revealed, he would start the investigation the next morning, taking his time to ascertain all of the facts before coming up with a solution.

As he finished up, he again crossed himself before standing. As he tried to stand however, his legs gave out from under him. These sessions often took a lot out of him, many times making him too weak to walk. Slowly he pulled himself over to the old cot, pulling himself up and slowly rolling onto the blanket. Covered with sweat, he was nevertheless very happy, extremely happy. The exertions were yet another small price he must pay in the fulfillment of his mission.

The smile was still on his face as he fell instantly asleep, a dreamless and restorative sleep.

Chapter 16

August 21, 1998

June 1, 1997

My Dearest Betty,

I have found the work here to be hot, tiring,
and monotonous. It appears to be exactly what I need to keep my mind off my failures of the other life, the life we shared together, the life I let slip through my fingers. I can exist here, and that is all I can hope for, all I deserve.

I hope you are here with me, but feel free to explore wherever you are at the moment, heaven must be expansive, with much to explore. You always loved traveling and exploring new places, and I will be here if you need me, I’m not going anywhere.  I believe this is the place I should be… I don’t think I’ll ever leave.

I Love You

***

We were on our descent into Cincinnati, the last two hours fairly uneventful, even without my last seat mate, or maybe because of her not being near.

I pondered over the journal entry in front of me, having not remembered how fervent my position had been back then. Although I had still felt more or less the same way until a day ago, I now carried the sadness of leaving my friend behind to fend for himself.

It was not that Frank wasn’t more than capable, but I had left him with no backup; I had always had his back. I just couldn’t shake the feeling that this wouldn’t have happened if I had been with him, that my self-centered outlook of the last year had cost him his life.

I closed the journal and stowed it beside me in the seat; it was time to close my eyes once more before we touched down on the tarmac. I let my mind wander to happier thoughts of Betty as I trusted the pilot to control the plane against the gravity that wanted us to crash into the ground. Finally I heard the screech of tires and the turbines winding up again, slowing us down quickly. I opened my eyes and took a deep breath, not realizing until that moment that I had been holding it for awhile.

Another twenty minutes followed as we waited for the gate to open up, having arrived fifteen minutes early. I used the time to prepare myself, for meeting Allen again, and then diving into maybe the most important investigation of my life.

“I’ll figure it out buddy,”
I told Frank in my head; “
I hope you left me something to work with; I could really use your help on this one.”

We finally pulled up to the gate, the other passengers instantly standing and finding their luggage in the overhead. I waited in my seat until everyone behind me had cleared out, feeling more comfortable by myself. I pulled out my pack and stuffed the journal into it before heading down the aisle. I was the last one off the plane and I took my time walking up the inclined ramp to the terminal. I was entering society again, and I wanted to savor the last few seconds alone I may have for awhile.

At the top of the ramp I was greeted with a smile by my new friend.

“Did you miss me?” she asked brightly.

I smiled in spite of myself at the girl’s enthusiasm, “It was a tad quieter; I have to admit.”

“I have to go find my boyfriend,” she stated quickly, “do you need a ride anywhere?”

“No, I have a ride I believe,” I said, while thinking to myself that it had never really been confirmed that Allen would be here.

She quickly reached out and wrapped an arm around my neck in a hug, buzzing in my ear, “It’s been nice meeting you Gabriel Celtic.” She held the embrace a little longer than I would have expected before she pulled away and handed me a small card with a number on it.

“That’s my phone number; give me a call once in awhile and let me know how you are getting along, of if you ever need anything.”

I thanked her and assured her I would before sticking the card into the pocket of my jeans. She turned and headed off through the terminal, turning again after a few feet to give me an exuberant wave and another smile. Waving back, I saw her almost bump into a dark-haired young man, whom she immediately hugged and kissed, leading me to suspect this was the boyfriend she had talked of.

I picked up my pack and headed off in search of Allen Vanguard, esteemed prosecutor of our county, and my old boss. Walking slowly and observing those around me, my mind was tempted to panic in the crowded terminal. I held it together though, knowing my purpose for being here would make it essential that I kept a clear head and not let my emotions rule.

It was indeed a long walk to the front of the terminal, especially since I had opted to walk instead of taking the tram. It reminded me of another time in an airport, when I went to Vietnam. Although I had been walking in a different direction then, and would have been catching a plane instead of leaving one; I still had an uneasy feeling. Even though I had tried to steel myself for what lay ahead, I had a feeling that what I was approaching was as much of a war as I had experienced those many years before.  If I’d only known…

Chapter 17

August 21, 1998

Allen Vanguard stood alone in the crowded airport terminal, not used to the anonymity he was experiencing in the large building. Back in Indiana, there were very few people who didn’t know the prosecutor on sight, and even fewer that didn’t have an opinion of him one way or the other. In most cases he could be either a darling or an asshole, depending on which side of the courtroom one gravitated towards.

He was known for being tough on crime, tough as nails, while trying to protect the average Joe’s rights and privileges. He was even known to go above the norm when he thought that action was warranted, not letting county politics get in the way if he could avoid it.

One example of that was the Major Crimes Taskforce that he initiated over a year ago. It had come about, finally, during
The Ghost Murders
last year, a string of murders committed by Jacob John Wesley, who up until that time had done nothing in his life worth remembering.
(1)

Later, it was discovered that Wesley had actually been following the plans of his mentor, who was the real mastermind of the killings…Jasmine. Gabriel and his crew had eventually discovered that Jasmine was actually Jane McHenry, the Sheriff’s daughter. She had never forgiven her father for the way he had ignored her mother as she lay dying from a long illness.

Unfortunately Gabriel’s wife Betty had been shot during the apprehension and subsequent killing of Jane; eventually dying from her wounds in the hospital a couple of weeks later. Gabriel had taken the loss very hard of course, eventually leaving the country and making his way to Peru to work at an archeological dig.

“What a waste,”
Allen thought to himself. Of course he had never had to deal with such an intense personal situation himself, but he was not without empathy.

“But an archeological dig?”

Thank God he had agreed to come back and help figure out Frank’s murder; so far it had all of them stumped.

He crooked his arm to read the face of his watch, wondering where Gabriel was; his plane had arrived over fifteen minutes ago.

“Hope he didn’t miss his plane,”
Allen mumbled to himself, rereading the telegram once more to confirm Gabriel’s flight. He looked up again and once more scanned the faces approaching him, not seeing him in the approaching herd of people as they filed by him.

“Ready to go?” a voice beside him intoned, Allen looking toward the source in shock.

The stranger beside him showed little resemblance to the man who had left a year and a half ago. A ponytail stuck out of a faded Red’s cap, the hair sun bleached to almost white. The face was lined and suntanned dark, gaunt in comparison to his old friend’s.

The jeans on the man were heavily worn, and about three sizes too large, the belt cinched up tight with the waistband folded over underneath it. If this was Gabriel, he had lost at least forty pounds.

The man showed no emotion standing there, his cool demeanor kind of nerve-wracking to Allen. He was wearing some sort of old fashioned round sun glasses with yellow lenses. Looking through the glass, Allen finally saw something he recognized, the eyes.

“Hello Gabriel,” Allen said as he held out his hand to his old friend. Gabriel shook it briefly while he glanced around at the crowd, sharp eyes scanning, seeming uneasy in the swarm of people.

“Allen,” Gabriel said evenly as a greeting, still scanning the mob around him. After a few moments he lifted his pack before looking back at Allen.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Allen led the way back to the car, the August heat hitting him in the face like a wall as they exited the building. They walked into the parking garage in silence as Allen hit the button to unlock the SUV.

Lifting the hatch, Gabriel threw his pack into the back and moved around to the passenger seat. Closing the hatch, Allen kept his feet planted while Gabriel got into the seat and closed the door.

Shaking his head with confusion, Allen headed for the driver’s seat.

“Hope this wasn’t a mistake,”
he thought to himself before opening the door and strapping himself in for the drive home.
“This could be a long drive.”

Chapter 18

August 21, 1998

Walking into the main terminal building, I saw Allen up ahead trying to find me in the crowd. As I approached, he glanced at me, and then continued scanning the other faces as they passed…he doesn’t recognize me!

Thinking about it as I stopped beside him, I realized that I probably looked different enough to confuse him; he hadn’t seen me in over a year after all. Dropping my pack on the floor, I watched my old friend for a few moments as he checked his watch and then pulled out the telegram I had sent from Peru.

He had gained weight, which he always did when his stress levels were high, indicating to me that things had not been going well lately. Another surprise was the gray in his hair, quite a bit more than when I had left, and one more indication that his job had been stressful lately. I didn’t envy him, dealing with both the law and the politics involved in government. But I had always respected him for taking the job, and doing it well. Somebody had to do it, and he was very good at what he did.

“Ready to go?” I said, watching him turn in surprise at the sound of my voice. Looking me over top to bottom, he seemed unable to fathom that the man standing before him was the one he had been waiting for. Finally a hint of recognition seemed to show in his eyes as he held out his hand toward me.

“Hello Gabriel,” Allen said in greeting.

I took his hand, but suddenly noticed again the throng of people around me, putting me instantly on edge. Will I ever get used to being around humanity again?

“Allen,” I finally said, realizing I hadn’t acknowledged his greeting. Picking up my pack, I am ready to leave, uncomfortable in my surroundings.

“Let’s get out of here,” I said with maybe a little too much force. Allen nodded his head before turning on his heel to lead me out of the building. I felt better immediately as we exited the building and the hot fresh air surrounded me, inhaling deeply the first un-recycled unconditioned air I had experienced that day.

We remained silent as we headed to the car. Arriving at his vehicle, Allen used his remote to unlock it, and I stowed my pack in the back before entering my seat. I was reminded of my seatbelt only after seeing Allen buckle his, having not used one since being below the equator.

We backed out and headed down the ramp, maneuvering left and right, up and down in a confusing journey toward the ticket booth. Quiet reigned until we got on the interstate, where I spent a few moments watching the scenery go by before looking over at Allen.

“So, what have you got so far?”

Seeming lost in thought, Allen seemed surprised for a moment at the sound of my voice before launching into a bare bones description of the case….Frank’s case.

“Frank was found on the ground beside his car by a Sheriff’s Deputy on June 7
th
. We figured heart attack, he was in his fifties, so not unheard of, even though he was in great shape. We almost let it go at that, until Staples noticed in the pictures that his coat had been laying over him like it was being used for a blanket. I immediately had the body shipped over to the coroner’s office, where Doc Elliot found prick marks on the back of the neck. He later confirmed the presence of some sort of ancient poison in Frank, Cur… Curry…”

“Curare?” I said aloud in surprise. I was familiar with this somewhat, it having originated in South America. It was generally made from a concoction of native plants found there, and natives there still used it sometimes for hunting with darts and blowguns. Usually used on small game, I knew that a large enough dose could easily kill a human.

“Yes, that’s it!” Allen said with relief on his face. “Anyway, we have been unable to find a motive for anyone killing him; I personally can’t fathom the idea that anyone would want to do him in. We went through his files, but they are just a hodgepodge of old cold cases I assigned to him months ago. Nothing even remotely life threatening that I can see. Two of them were suicides that seemed slightly suspicious, but even those don’t seem to be related in any way, nothing threatening at all. I do know that he was on to something though; he had started exhuming some of the bodies of some of the accident victims…with my authority of course.”

“The one thing that possibly could have helped us; his notebook, is missing. There is a possibility that it was taken when he was killed.”

I flash back to the dream, remembering the strange man taking something out of Frank’s pocket before placing the coat over him on the ground. I mulled over this information for a few minutes before moving on to another question I had.

“Who’s Staples?”

Allen got a grin on his face then. “It’s actually two people Gabe.”

“When you left, I hired a new investigator named Nathan Stafford, goes by Nate. He’s a young guy, just out of the academy, but he showed a lot of promise, and he has done a pretty decent job so far.”

“A few months ago, I had some extra money in the budget, and a stack of cold cases we needed to get to. Frank volunteered to take on the cold cases, so I hired another young investigator named Michael Naples to help Stafford with the day to day stuff.”

“Anyway, those two are as thick as thieves, kinda reminds me of you and Frank.”

Allen stopped suddenly when these words left his mouth, embarrassment crossing his face as he wondered if he should have mentioned Frank and me during better times.

“Sorry,” he intoned quietly, not certain where to go next.

“Frank and I were great together,” I said. “But for many reasons, that is no longer the case. I went off the deep end, and he got himself killed. You don’t have anything to apologize for Allen. Frank was a great partner, and a good friend, and I will miss him everyday for the rest of my life. But it’s just not the same anymore, life goes on, and it’s time for the new blood.”

Seeming satisfied with my answer, Allen continued on with his description, but maybe with just a little less exuberance.

“Anyway, after a few times of yelling for Stafford and Naples, the name just sort of ran together, so we call them ‘Staples’.”

Seeming to remember something, he quickly reached into his pocket, pulling out a badge and leather case.

“Before I forget, here’s your badge back,” he said as he handed me the case. “Seriously Gabriel, it’s good to have you back, even under these circumstances. We need someone with your depth of knowledge.”

I nodded my head while staring at the shiny metal object in my hand. This used to be a real source of pride with me; everything I had done in my professional life was a reflection of the pride I took in what the badge represented. Considering what it had cost me in the last couple of years, it now seemed like nothing more than a piece of steel wrapped in a leather pouch.

Sticking it in my pocket, I had just one more question for my boss.

“When can I get a look at Frank’s files?”

“They are in the back seat. I figured you might be in a hurry to get started; your gun is in there too. I also figured that you probably wouldn’t feel like coming into the office for a couple of days considering the long trip you just had. Figured I’d just drop you at your house, let you work on them there for awhile.”

I was relieved at the thought of being by myself for a while, and having time to go over the case files without interruption.

“Thanks Allen…that would probably be a good idea.”

We were pulling off of the interstate onto the Allenville exit, and familiar sights were making their way into my vision amid mixed emotions. While I had grown up here and had always considered it home, the loss of Betty had turned everything here into a glaring advertisement of my loss.

Thinking of her then, I whispered,
“I love you Betty.”

“You say something?” Allen asked questioningly.

I hadn’t realized I had spoken so loudly.

“No, just talking to myself; you taking me straight home?”

“Unless you need to go somewhere first,” Allen said.

“I probably need to stop at a store to get a couple of things if you don’t mind.” I had realized only moments before that there would be nothing in the house to eat or drink. I would also be needing a few things for cleaning myself up, not to mention I had run out of deodorant a couple thousand miles ago. We were about to pass a 24-hour drug store, and I indicated that it would probably have everything I would need.

Allen pulled in the lot, offering to help me with getting the supplies I needed. After a few moments of thought though, I told him I thought I could handle it myself.

I was on a mission, not wanting to spend anymore time in there than needed. I had no trouble finding what I needed once inside, and was back in the car and headed home in ten minutes. Besides bread, milk, peanut butter and cereal, I had grabbed plenty of soap, as well as a bottle of shampoo and some deodorant. Finally, I had found the most important item, coffee. Unfortunately though, they had only had it in small cans, so I bought two. I figured I could come up with a better list and hit a real store in a day or two.