Authors: J. F. Gonzalez
Vince paused. “Your aunt didn’t tell her?”
“No,” Frank said. “She gave the woman some excuse. Told her dad had a history of mental illness, that she should put whatever it was my father told her out of her mind. To forget it.” He sighed. “The problem is, how can anybody put something so terrible out of their mind?”
Which was something Vince was trying to do now as he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. It was a warm night and even with the air conditioning on he still felt warm. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could think about was what Frank and Mike had told him. His mother involved in a satanic cult; human sacrifices, ritual murder, a secret organization with stealth, cunning, and predatory skill. Vince closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but those images kept pushing at the forefront of his mind, like waves breaking on the shore of a rocky beach.
Indeed, how do you wipe something so terrible out of your mind?
Somehow, Vince wound up doing just that. He wasn’t sure when, but at some point in the night, he fell asleep.
MIKE PETERSON PROVED to be an exquisite cook. He prepared Denver omelets the next morning as Frank sat at the dining room table hunched over a cup of coffee and Vince perched on the sofa making his morning calls. They’d had a great talk last night and he’d learned a lot about what was happening. He still didn’t understand where he fit into all this—and indeed, Mike and Frank were still trying to figure out why this shadowy organization would want to kill him—but now he wanted to help them get to the bottom of this. But first he had to tie up some last minute business deals, then he had to call Brian Saunders to tell him he had to take a few weeks of vacation time. He was still formulating in his mind how he was going to broach this to his friend when Mike called out to him. “Breakfast’s ready. Dig in, boys.”
Vince put the phone down and headed to the dining room. He was hungry. The pizza they’d had yesterday afternoon was a distant memory as he sat down and began eating. The three men sat in silence for a moment, digging in to their morning meal. Frank broke the silence after draining his coffee. He rose to pour a refill. “So what’s the plan?”
“We tie up our loose ends here,” Mike said, chewing thoughtfully. “And we take the next available flight to Pennsylvania. I’m pretty sure
we can arrange to be out there by this afternoon or evening at the lat
est.”
Frank raised an eyebrow as he rejoined them at the table, a fresh mug of coffee in hand. “I don’t know if I have that kind of money to spring for a last minute plane ticket back east.”
“I’ll pick up the tab,” Mike said. “Don’t worry about it.”
“What do we do once we get back there?” Vince asked. He poured himself a glass of orange juice from the carafe sitting on the table.
“We get in contact with your mother’s minister, Reverend Powell,” Mike said as he ate. “In fact, we should probably give him a call to tell him we’re coming.”
“Maybe we can stay with him,” Vince said.
“That’s out of the question,” Mike said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “I’d rather we stay in a motel and remain anonymous. If they’re watching Reverend Powell and they see us, we could be in for some trouble. And there’s still the possibility they’re following you anyway. You’re going to have to disappear for awhile.”
“How am I going to do that?”
“We’ll find a way,” Mike said, digging into his food. “We’ll have to do something cheap, probably head into Philly to get the right fake ID, but we can manage.”
“If they’re watching Reverend Powell how are we going to pay him a visit?” Frank asked, finally digging in to his breakfast.
“We’ll think of a way to hook up,” Mike said.
“Why visit Reverend Powell anyway?” Vince asked.
“To find out if he found the material your mother hid. If he has, we gain access to it. If she has the smoking gun, we turn it over to my friend William Grecko and he does the rest.”
“And if he hasn’t found it?”
“We help him look for it.”
When breakfast was finished, Vince gathered up the dishes and deposited them in the dishwasher. Mike nodded to Frank. “You’re packed, right?”
“Got most of my stuff in the car. Got the rest in the living room.”
“Good. Why don’t you hang here for an hour or so while I head to my office and try to get us some flights? Then I’ve got to dash home quick and tell Carol I’ll be gone for a while. I’ve already given her the hint that I might be going out of town on a consulting job, so hopefully I won’t upset her too much. I think she’s starting to suspect something’s up.”
“I’ve got some more calls to make myself,” Vince said, joining the men in the living room. “What time do we want to meet back here?”
“I’ll call you from my office,” Mike said. “I’m going to assume you’re okay to leave this afternoon, okay Vince?”
“Fine.”
“Let’s plan on meeting back here at two. I’ll try to get us flights out of John Wayne Airport.”
That sounded fine to Frank. Vince voiced the concern that maybe they should fly out of another airport; wouldn’t whoever had tried to kill him be watching John Wayne Airport? “You’re right,” Mike said. “I’ll try LAX instead. It’s bigger, more security. We’ll meet here and drive up there together. Frank, when we get to the airport, we’ll pack our firearms in a single suitcase. I have paperwork for both of them. We’ll have to declare them at baggage.”
“Of course,” Frank said. “I know the drill.”
That was a much better plan of action to Vince. After Mike Peterson left, Vince nodded to Frank. “Make yourself at home. I’m going to take a quick shower and make some phone calls. You can use the shower downstairs if you want to freshen up.”
“Thanks.” Frank picked up his duffel bag and headed toward the bathroom.
Vince headed upstairs to his bedroom. He closed the door and picked up the phone, still dreading the call and wondering how he was going to broach the subject. Mike and Frank had been pretty adamant last night when they made the decision that they weren’t to say a word to anybody what they were doing. They’d told Vince to let his people at the office know that he simply had to take more time off to deal with his mother’s affairs. They didn’t need to know anything else. Vince agreed, but even last night he was dreading the calls he would have to make. Brian would be curious and would want to know what was going on—hell, the man was his best friend and he would
know
something was up. Likewise, Tracy would want to know what was happening. They’d made plans to spend the upcoming weekend together at her place, and she would be shocked to hear that Vince was suddenly breaking those plans to jet back to Pennsylvania to deal with his mother’s affairs.
Might as well get to it
, he thought as he dialed Brian’s number.
The line on Brian’s end rang three times then went into voice mail. Vince relaxed. Now he wouldn’t be faced with actually talking to Brian himself. “Hey, Brian, it’s me,” Vince said, letting his thoughts spill out in his message. “Hey, listen, I’m going to have to take some more time off. I can’t really explain it to you now, but…um…some things have come up regarding my mother and her estate and everything, and they have to be dealt with now. So…um, I’m hoping you can cover for me and explain things to Jim for me when he gets back from vacation. I’m probably leaving this afternoon for Philly and don’t really know when I’ll be back. I’m guessing right now that I’ll need two weeks. Plus, considering what happened Sunday at the airport, it might be a good idea for me to get out of town for a while. If this looks like it’s going to drag on for longer, I’ll call back within the week. I’ll let Glenda know what’s going on too, so she can head Jim off at the pass.” Beat. “Um…I guess that’s it. I’ll be here till two I guess if you want to call me. See ya.” He hit the hang-up button, released it to get an open line, then dialed Glenda’s number and gave her a similar message on her voice mail. When he was finished he hung up and sat on the bed for a moment, finger still pressed on the hang-up button, debating on what to tell Tracy.
You’ve got to tell her
, he thought, as he flipped through his phone book for her number.
Might as well catch her at the office. At this time, she’s probably already in the office and taking calls. Besides, wouldn’t it be nice to hear her voice before you leave
?
Yes, it would. He smiled, relaxing a little as he started dialing her number.
There was a knock on his bedroom door and then it opened. Frank stood in the hall, peering in at him questioning. “You need towels? They’re in the linen closet right at the head of the stairs.”
“Who you calling?”
“My girlfriend.”
“Uh uh.” Frank shook his head and walked in the bedroom as if he owned the place. He looked displeased. He reached out and took the receiver from Vince’s hand. “Sorry, buddy. No calls to girlfriends.”
Vince looked up at Mark, flabbergasted. “I thought you guys were a trifle paranoid, but I didn’t realize that—”
“Yeah, we’re paranoid all right.” Frank set the receiver down on the cradle. “And until this thing is over, we’re playing it safe.”
“But…shouldn’t Tracy know what’s going on? I mean, she was
there
when that guy tried to kill me! She could’ve been shot herself!”
“I know, but we gotta play by the rules,” Frank said. “The less she knows, the better.”
For a minute Vince didn’t think he would be able to speak. Finally he sputtered, “Doesn’t she know enough after what happened? All I’m going to do is tell her I’m leaving town for the weekend. Why keep anything further from her? “
“For the reasons I told you yesterday, and what Mike and I told you last night at dinner.” Frank sighed wearily. “Look, Vince, I don’t like playing the crazy conspiracy theorist. I really don’t. But until this thing is over, we need to keep a close knit on this thing. You don’t want to endanger Tracy further, do you?”
“No.” Vince saw Frank’s logic, but he still didn’t understand the paranoia. If Tracy wasn’t one of them, what was the harm in telling her he wasn’t going to be able to see her this weekend? He voiced this to Frank. “We already made plans,” he said.
Frank appeared to struggle with this, and then relented. “All right,” he said. “But quickly. Tell her your flight is leaving in an hour and you have to head to the airport.”
Vince picked up the phone and started dialing Tracy’s work number again, wondering if Frank was going to give him privacy. Frank stood beside him, waiting. Vince listened to the phone ring on Tracy’s end, trying not to let his displeasure toward Frank’s eavesdropping show.
“Tracy Harris.”
“Tracy, it’s Vince.”
“Vince!” Her voice brightened instantly and Vince’s heart warmed at the sound of it. Yes, he was definitely beginning to develop feelings for her. “You coming in today?”
“No, I’m not,” he said, feeling the pressure of Frank standing over him, listening to every word that was being said begin to intrude on him. “In fact, I won’t be in for probably the next two weeks. I’m leaving for Philly in about an hour, and I just wanted to let you know. I’m sorry that spoils our weekend, and I’m sorry I can’t explain more, but—” He detected a faint nod of disapproval from Frank and continued on. “—I’ve got more stuff to take care of regarding my mother. I’m sorry.”
Tracy was silent for a moment. Vince could picture her in her cubicle, holding the receiver to her ear, looking stunned at this sudden news. “That’s okay, Vince,” she said. It was evident from her tone of voice that she was shocked at the sudden news. “I know you…have to get through all that’s happened with your mother and…what happened Sunday, but… I just…wish you would have told me sooner.”
“I wish I did, too,” Vince said. “But then all this has happened so suddenly.” He detected movement out of the corner of his eye and looked up at Frank, who was making a slashing motion across his throat.
Time to cut this conversation off now
. Vince nodded. “I’m sorry about the suddenness of all this and I promise to make it up to you. I’ll call you when I get back, okay?”
“Okay.” Her voice still sounded surprised; he didn’t know her well enough yet to detect whether there was a trace of hurt feelings, but he supposed that under the circumstances there was. “When will you call me?”
“As soon as I can,” Vince said, and now Frank was making the cut-off gestures more frantically now. “I gotta go honey, my shuttle is here. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Tracy said, and then Vince hung up.
He sat on the bed for a moment, still stunned at how sudden and awkward the conversation had been. Frank sighed. “I’m sorry I had to be so abrupt with you, Vince, but I hope you understand.”
“I hope someday I do understand,” Vince said as he stood up and, not looking at Frank, headed to the master bathroom for his shower.
Lititz, Pennsylvania
REVEREND HANK POWELL carried his Colt Python with him everywhere he went now.
Even when he was in the house.
Especially
when he was in the house.
If they could only see me now
, Reverend Powell thought to himself as he trudged warily down the stairs to his finished basement. While he was dressed in his usual attire—a pair of clean, fresh jeans, a short-sleeved cotton shirt, blue tennis shoes—he hadn’t shaved or showered in three days. His thinning hair was heavy with grease and dandruff. His stubble was thickening, and Hank paused occasionally to scratch his itchy cheeks. Most prominent were his eyes, which were red-rimmed and haunted, dark circles and bags prominent under them. What little sleep Hank Powell had been able to get had been in fits and starts, in two hour snatches.
He always had the Colt within easy reach, even when sleeping. Most of the time he fell asleep with it clutched in his hand.
Reverend Powell’s finished basement had been built into a very comfortable living space. The stairs to the basement led to a comfortable den with a plush sofa and easy chair and a twenty-seven-inch Minolta TV on a polished oak stand. To the right of the den was a separate room that Reverend Powell had converted to a guestroom. Beyond the den was a recreation room flanked by a bar. Three barstools at the bar, and the glass shelving behind it housed an impressive liquor cabinet. An impressive looking pool table took up most of the space in the recreation room, and perched on the far wall was the head and shoulders of a buck he’d taken down ten years ago in Berks County. He headed past the pool table to a door that led to a small storeroom, the only space in the basement that wasn’t completely finished.