Several years ago, Harris had had a bunker put in the back of her property. She’d done all the work on her own, even going to far as to learn how to pour concrete enough that she could put walls up underground and then a roof over her building. In all that time, not only had she planted grass seed and other things from the land around it, there were sheep grazing on the land to keep it all looking as natural as she needed it to be.
The only entrance to the building was a tunnel that had been dug too many decades ago for her to know who might have done it. The mouth of the tunnel used to spill out into the river that ran alongside her property. It had long since fallen in, and another doorway had been put in by her as well.
It was about as safe as she could make it. And the people that she brought there? Well, they never saw the light of day again. The place hadn’t seen many people enter the deep building, but enough that she’d made sure that not even the president, when she’d been working for him, had known about the place.
After seeing the happy couple off to the airport, they lingered in town, enjoyed a long nice dinner, and then headed home. By the time Dean and his new wife came back from their honeymoon, things would be taken care of here on her end.
Arriving home around ten, there were two messages on her answering service. One was that the room was cleaned, and the second was from the man who had been assigned to watch Hunter. She’d bet anything that he was calling to find out if she not only knew where Hunter was, but if he could have some time off to take care of a personal issue, like finding himself new digs.
That man was in for a rude awakening in that she had dropped enough tells at his home that he was going to wish he’d never been born when his wife found him. That had happened about the time that the plane that the wedded couple was on took off from Columbus airport.
There shouldn’t have been any way, much less an easy one, for her to get in Hunter’s hotel and out with a body without being noticed. Agent Cramer had invited his girlfriends to visit him while he’d been on duty. Not just a few times, either.
His wife, who had been oblivious to the fact that her husband of twenty-six years had been having several affairs right under her nose, knew all about it now. Not only had Harris made sure that she had pictures of each of the women, but also some that caught her husband in very uncomplimentary positions. As in there were several times when he’d invited other men to join him in the bed.
“Do you need anything from me?” Harris loved this man. More than she could have ever imagined. She laid her head on his chest, just letting his question hang there for a few moments while she thought about what she was about to do. “I’m assuming that’s a no.”
“You’d be assuming right. You don’t want any part of this.” Harris looked up at him and smiled. “How the hell did I get so lucky as to have someone like you to fall in love with?”
“I was the lucky one.” They kissed, a lingering kiss that she was going to take him up on when she returned. “May I ask you where he is? Or have you already taken care of him and need only to take care of the body? I find myself totally fine with the fact that this man is going to die. Every time I think about his voice when he told us that he had put Dana in the chipper alive—”
Shep shivered, and she kissed him again. Hunter had haunted a few of her dreams for the last few days as well. Like Shep, she could hear his voice as he explained how he’d killed her. Also, the men that had come to help rescue her. Nothing in her job could have prepared her for hearing how much Hunter had enjoyed what he’d done to them.
“I’ve just now come to a decision. I’m going to let him stew for the night. Let him think that I’m going to show up at any time. That should be about all the punishment that I can deal out with this man.” Harris laid her head back down on Shep’s chest. “He’s not a man. It’s doubtful that he would have ever been considered anything but the monster that he is.”
“You’re just going to kill him.” Shep didn’t ask about what she did on occasion. He didn’t seem to want details, not that she blamed him. But telling him that was all the time she thought she could stomach being around him, Shep nodded. “Good. I think he’s given you enough nightmares. And I know that it’s been bothering you. If you would allow me to, I’d do that for you.”
“Why? I told Bella what I was going to do. She’s all right with it.” Shep pointed out that she was still nervous that Bella would hold it against her someday. “You think that she might? Later, down the roads of our lives coming together?”
“Never. I don’t know her all that well, but if she told you that she’d not care one bit if you did this, I think that she’d be true to her word. But for myself and for you, I want to do this.” She told him about the undisclosed place she had him at. “I have a feeling that it’s right here on this property. Not only that, but I have a feeling that it’s nothing more than a hole in the ground that you put there to use. I told you, love. I understand what you do and how you have to do it at times. This is no different. He has to go. I can do that.”
“For me.” Shep nodded. “You’d go against everything you hold dear and kill this man for me so that I don’t have to ever tell Bella that I did it? Why would you do that? I can do this. You don’t have to.”
“I’m not doing this for anyone but you, Harris. And it’s not like this man, if he were a part of this shadow, wouldn’t have faced the same thing. Death. As my grandma used to say, the only way to get rid of a mad animal is to put it and yourself out of misery. I don’t think there is a truer statement than that concerning Hunter.” She agreed with him. “Okay, then how about this. We go and do it together. And if you get there and you don’t want to, then I can take care of him. One swipe of my claws across his throat, and he’s gone.”
“I hate that he can’t be brought to justice on this. I do. I know that this is going to cheat a lot of people out of closure. But I have to tell you, the thought of him being in a prison for the insane is more frightening to me. Those places are good, and they do serve a great purpose, but he’s neither insane nor is he going to just let things go. He’ll either kill everyone that comes in contact with him. Or, and this is what frightens me for Bella and her future family, he’ll be good. Great even, and then they’ll think that they’ve cured him. The very first thing that he’ll do is go after her. And Dean will die too, either by protecting her or Hunter will kill him first.” Shep asked her what the chances were that Hunter would end up in prison. “Zero. As I said, he might be insane, but he’s one of the smartest and most calculating murderers that I’ve ever met. He knows what he’s doing most of the time. The only reason that I was able to get the drop on him this time was that he was broke. You saw what we found in that house. He’s been stashing money and passports, credit cards, and all kinds of things for a very long time. The only reason that we got anything at all from him is because his father had a spell. You know what? I’m not going to let him sit there all night. I’m all fired up and need to end this shit now. I can’t stand the fact that he’s still breathing after all he’s done. I’m going to end this.”
“I think you’re right.” Shep kissed her again. Getting dressed to go out so that no one would see her leaving the house, Shep paused as they were headed out the door. “I’m going to go as my cat. I think that we’ll be safer, just in case he’s escaped. Not that I think that he can if you’ve secured him, but as you said, he’s not stupid, just insane.”
“All right. But the rules still apply. I say stop or anything, you don’t look around, you fucking stop. I don’t want you hurt any more than I want this bastard out on his own.” Shep said that he would. Harris believed him. Pulling out her gun, not taking one single chance with this man, they walked to the opening and slipped in without anyone the wiser.
Hunter was just where she’d left him. She could hear his heart beating, his breathing a little labored, but otherwise, he was fine. Moving to stand in front of him, she
let Shep do what he needed to wake him. It was going to be over soon, and she just could not wait for the next disaster to come along and mess up her otherwise wonderful life.
Chapter 9
The men that he’d asked to come and talk to him were there in the conference room that Fletcher had used when his daughter had visited. Today they were going to witness his will changes, as well as, he hoped, verify that he was of sound mind and good health.
He was both of those—for the moment. Last night he’d had a terror attack, and he’d hurt two of the nursing staff that had been there to help him. Fletcher didn’t think of himself as an emotional man, but he’d been having bouts of crying and sobbing since two days ago.
The staff had assured him that they dealt with those sorts of episodes daily. However, it didn’t make him feel any less terrible for the trouble that he’d caused them. Fletcher thought maybe they viewed him as a monster anyway for some reason, but he wasn’t. Or at least, he didn’t think that he was.
“Mr. Booth, is there anyone else coming in? I’d like to note that you have your doctor here, as well as his nurse, Doctor Carter Hoffman, MD, and Registered Nurse Sally Daniels, respectively. The attorney for your daughter and her husband, Mr. Rick West, is in attendance, as is the attorney for Mr. Booth, both personally and in his business, Mr. Donald Huff. I am Rick Sheller, acting judge, who has come here today to validate all changes.” Fletcher told him that was all. “All right. Let us begin. As I have already stated the names and their titles for the record, I’d also like to make it known that not only is this being recorded as the last will and testament to Fletcher Hunter Booth, we are also recording this so that there is a physical record of all the proceedings here today. Dr. Hoffman, would you begin?”
“Mr. Booth has been in my care for several days now. After speaking with his family doctor, it was determined that Mr. Booth suffers from vascular dementia. This is a rare but otherwise incurable disease. I took over his care when the tests came back with the results that I’ve stated. It was determined that in my position as head of the Vascular Department, I would be better equipped to take over his care.” Rick asked him what stage, if there was one, that Mr. Booth was in. “Early stage for now, but that could change in a few days, minutes, or even years. It will depend mostly on the care that he gets. However, Mr. Booth will need constant monitoring and care. As I mentioned, this is, sadly, incurable.”
“We’ve been called here today to make changes to his will and to make other arrangements for Mr. Booth. Is he of sound mind to make those decisions on his own?” Thankfully, Dr. Hoffman said that he was. “And you agree that these proceedings can go on? That he can make these decisions without help from anyone?”
“I do. I testify that on my oath as his doctor, Doctor Carter Hoffman.” Fletcher shook the doctor’s hand, holding onto his emotions so that he’d not mess things up today. Looking back at the judge, Fletcher asked him what they did now.
“You state your name and those of the people that you wish to have notified of your demise when it occurs. Hopefully, you have a long life that is much better than the prognosis.” Fletcher thanked him and looked down at his notes. “Mr. Booth, I would like to say that I wish that more people would take care of things as you are before it’s too late to do so. You have no idea how many people I see come into the courthouse that needs paperwork finished up for their family member who needs to have specialized care. I know that you are ill, I understand that. But you taking care of things for your family just shows what an amazingly wonderful father you are. Thank you.”
“I wish that I didn’t have to do it this way.” The judge told him that he understood that as well. “I’m all right now. It comes and goes, as the doctor said. But I also know that the good days will be less and less, until I know nothing of anyone. That, I think, hurts me in the heart more than anything in this world.” Fletcher blew his nose, thinking that he had to hold things together, but this, what he was about to say, was what hurt him the most. “My daughter has recently found someone to love her. They’ll have children, and I’m terrified that I won’t be here, in my right mind, enough to be able to remember them.”
The judge wiped at his own eyes. Fletcher knew that the man was married and had several grandchildren of his own. Fletcher envied the man. His mind would be sharp and good for a very long time. Fletcher knew that he was living on borrowed time. Then he noticed that the doctor had filled eyes as well.
It took him only an hour to go over each of the changes that he wanted. It had taken him the better part of yesterday to decide on what to do about Hunter. His son had been stealing from him for decades, long before the business failed that he’d turned over to him. Hunter hadn’t been a good person to be around. And he had pitted Fletcher and his Bella against one another.
“When the time comes that I am no longer capable of caring for myself, I give all my power of attorney to Dean Marshall, my son-in-law. I want him to make all decisions concerning my health and wellbeing.” The judge asked him why not his daughter. “If you ever meet this young man, you’ll know why. Because he will not make a move without talking with her in great detail about whatever he needs. They’ll both make the decisions. However, my daughter will make them with her heart, not her head. That will be an unhealthy thing for everyone. Her heart is tender, though she’d not say that. And I want nothing to upset her that I can, here and today, make easier for her. This will keep them both happy too.”
Fletcher had read a great deal of the paperwork that had been given to him while staying here. They didn’t have a lot of information on the incapacitating disease, and the research was expensive. Since he knew that his little girl didn’t need anything in the way of money, Fletcher decided to leave the bulk of his estate and his body for whatever the doctors needed to help with the research. He only hoped that they’d wait to make sure that he was gone before they cut open his noodle.
After it was finished, he’d even made his funeral arrangements. When the labs were finished with him, Fletcher was exhausted. But he felt better about what he’d done than he had about things in a long time. Lying down on his bed in his room, Fletcher closed his eyes. Tomorrow he was going home. After that, he knew, it was anyone’s guess as to what happened to him.
Thinking about his son, he wondered what he was doing. He’d overheard the nurses talking yesterday about how he’d disappeared from the hotel room that he’d been staying in. And that nothing was there to make anyone think there was foul play. Fletcher thought that there had been a lot of foul play, but nothing that anyone would ever see. He knew who Harrison Marshall was.
It hadn’t taken him long to figure out what she had been to the previous administration—or at least the name that she’d gone by. It took him a great deal longer to find out her actual name. Cora Banks had never been a person. And what he’d found out about that woman scared him to no end. She wasn’t a ball buster as people thought she was. No, Cora Banks was a woman that got shit done, and did it well. She, or at least Harris, had been the shit in his son’s oatmeal.
The part that had upset him yesterday, the reason for his episode, was that he could not find anything within him to care about what had happened to Hunter. He’d not cared, Fletcher thought, for a great many years.
He thought about the one time that he’d been in his son’s room. It was just after he’d begged to take over the upper floors of the house. A place, he told him, that he could be comfortable. In actuality, Fletcher never remembered telling him that he could move up there. That was the reason that he’d gone up there to look around. It had been enough to terrify him for weeks. Fletcher even had bad dreams about it now.
The room had been decorated—he supposed that was about as good as anything else to call it—with weapons. Not of the gun variety, but things like machetes, swords, and the like. There had also been posters on the wall of satanic things. Circles with dead bodies inside of them.
/> Then there had been the pictures, hundreds of them, hanging on the wall with pushpins that one would use to hang up things that were close and dear to the heart. In fact, they looked normal, like a group of friends that got together for a fun night. But they were not fun nights. Nor were any of the people in the photos alive. Fletcher remembered being sick, then getting sicker as he moved down the line of them. They were gathered on the walls like some sort of sick, deranged person’s art show.
He looked at them all, trying to equate in his head that this was real. That he was actually looking at photos with his son in them along with the dead. And he was. Hunter could be seen in each of the pictures, standing there covered in blood with the most insane smile on his face, his thumbs turned up in a way that said he was proud of what he’d done.
Then he came across two pictures of his son with a young woman that Fletcher had met once, then again when she’d come to the house asking after his son. Her name had been Dana. If she’d told him her last name, he didn’t remember it. A beautiful woman that, when she’d come around the second time, had been large with a child, just like the first picture of her that had been hanging on the wall. The second picture, even now when he thought about it, was a blur in his mind. Fletcher thought it was because the photo had been so horrid, the details just too much for his mind and his heart to have wanted to remember. Even now, all these years later, all he could recall about it was that it had been a great deal of blood. Too much for someone that had only been hurt.
Why hadn’t he told anyone? He often thought to himself. Why hadn’t he? Fletcher didn’t know. Loyalty? Perhaps a little bit of that. Love? No. There hadn’t been even a drop of that in more years than he could remember. Fear?
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