by Doug Welch
Chapter 15
Funeral and a Mission
“So, what are we going to do?” Alex said.
“I haven't a clue. I need to think.”
We sat down in the living room.
I stared off into space. Tony’s right. We need allies and intelligence. Where were the Shadow's vulnerabilities? Who were the competing factions? Could we play one faction off against another? Which of the Families thought that they owned us? We had to stay free of those bastards at all costs.
Leaning forward on the couch, I clenched my fists. “Damn it. We've got to get into that computer!”
“Do you know the password? I wouldn't want to try, unless we're really desperate. Maybe Tom can help,” Alex said.
“I don't want to drag him into this. He'd just become one more vulnerability along with Caesar and Elizabeth.” I stomped my feet and rose from the couch to pace the room. “We need to find that password.”
Alex looked up at me. “How about the letter that Silas left. Is there something there we could use?”
I snapped my fingers. “The key. I had totally forgotten about that. Do you have the envelope?”
Alex shook her head. “We left it in the truck. It's in the glove box. I'll go get it.”
She left the house and returned. “Good thing I thought of it. We've got company.” She gestured to the front of the house. “Across the road.”
I went to the front door and looked out. Across the highway, I saw a black car; it looked like a Mercedes sedan. The windows were heavily tinted, nearly opaque. “Do you think they can be any more obvious? What are they thinking? A Mercedes in rural Kentucky? It screams terrorist.” I chuckled. “At least we know that these people are stupid.”
“I don't know,” Alex said. “Maybe the cops won't be able to see it, or they'll be convinced it’s a beat-up farm truck.”
She had a point. “Maybe they're not so stupid after all.”
“Still, it’s obvious to us. That's a plus.”
“Yeah, and maybe they don't care.”
The car occupants apparently had some of the same thoughts we did, because in a little while, it started up and drove down the road.
Relieved, we returned to the couch.
“Okay, what have we got?”
Alex opened the envelope and examined the key. “It's the B of A branch downtown. The box number is on the key.” She glanced at the wall clock. “We've got just enough time to hit them before they're closed, if we hurry.”
“Right, let's go” We ran out of the house and climbed into the truck.
We raced downtown, and entered the bank a few minutes before closing. The manager was at first reluctant to allow us access, but after a few minutes of basking in Alex's attention, he granted time to examine the contents of the box.
We took the box to a private room, and opened it, removing four envelopes.
“We need to divide these up. You take half, and I'll take half,” I said.
We opened the envelopes and took note of the items inside.
“This is a deed to Silas's house. It's in June Marrow's name, and a sealed letter addressed to her,” Alex said.
I opened mine. It contained dozens of bankbooks. “This one has a bunch of bank books from several banks,” I said. “They're all in odd dollar amounts totaling thousands of dollars. I haven't calculated the entire amount, but there must be in excess of a million dollars.”
We opened the other envelopes.
“This one has passports in different names and nationalities, but they all have our pictures on them,” I said.
“Well this one has birth certificates, Social Security cards, credit cards, and driver's licenses. I'll bet they're going to match some of those passports,” Alex said. “Anything else?”
“There's a letter from Silas.”
I was surprised. Why would he have broken his lawyer's ethics to provide us with what were clearly illegal documents?
I stirred. “We need to leave everything here. We'll take the letter and June's deed, and come back for the rest later.”
“See if you can find some of the bank books in our proper name. We may need some money.” Alex said.
“Good idea.” I replied.
We thumbed through the bankbooks and set aside the ones that had our names on them. We scooped up the bankbooks and Silas's letters. Thanking the manager, we left the bank.
We didn't open the letter until we returned to the farm.
Paris and Alexandra,
I've broken some of my cardinal rules here, but I feel as though I have no choice. I have learned some things from friends who shall remain nameless, that the danger we all face has reached a crisis point. These people were mutual acquaintances of both me and your father. They are near allies, as much as one might expect from the Shadows, who desire to see a just solution to the problems raised by your father's discoveries. You may have to run. The items in this safe deposit box represent tools that you may use to affect an escape. I had to do highly illegal things to acquire them, so I hope that my efforts were not in vain. If something happens to me, please ensure that June receives the items in the box that were destined for her. Also, tell her that I love her and am very sorry if I'm not there to be with her.
I know of someone who may be able to help you. He is a professor of physics at Kentucky State University. His name is Gordon Bowles. His phone number is listed in the university directory.
Silas
The name of the KSU professor nagged at my memory. Where had I seen it before?
“He knew,” I said. “He knew that they were on to him, and that he was unlikely to live through it.”
“Don't jump to conclusions, Paris. He had this prepared weeks ago.”
“Maybe, but he started warning us as soon as he met us. I think he found out something that caused him to act. – It doesn't matter. We have enough here to wait out the next year if we need to.”
“I certainly hope not. I have no intention of living with this kind of stress for an entire year.”
“Alex, we may have to live with this stress our entire lives. Or would you prefer to breed some Shadow's babies?”
“Tony couldn't have been serious, Paris. How could anyone imagine they could get away with it?”
“Alex, when you're outside the law, you can imagine anything.”
She bit her lip, and looked as if she might cry. “It's monstrous.”
I agreed with her. My frustration and anger was building with each new revelation. It seemed more and more likely that we would have to abandon a lifetime of believing in an orderly society that mostly obeyed the rules. The world as I knew it was being replaced by a shadow world in which everything hinged upon a freak of nature. How could someone fight that? Should we run, flee the state or the country?
Immediately I thought of Elizabeth. The thought of leaving her caused immediate mental pain. No, flight was not an option.
“We may have to do as Silas said. We may have to learn how to emulate the Shadows to survive.”
“That means we have to learn Dad's secrets,” Alex said. “If we can find them.”
“Right,” I said, “and the sooner, the better.”
“Let's get to work.”
Before we could start, the phone rang.
I answered it. “Hello, Fox residence.”
“Paris, this is Chris, Chris Higgins.”
“Mister Higgins.”
“I'm calling to let you know that Silas's funeral is tomorrow at nine AM. That is if you plan on attending.”
I hastily reconsidered my formal tone of voice, and responded more warmly. “We certainly do Chris, thank you for calling.”
“Silas was well thought of. There will be a lot of his friends there.”
“Will June Marrow attend?”
“Yes, although she is very distraught. I don't know if you are aware of the relationship between her and Silas?”
“Yes, she told us.”
“She’s a fine wo
man. I hope that people don't think ill of her because of a romantic indiscretion.”
“I know she's a good woman. In fact, I offered to employ her.” I felt it wouldn't hurt to let Higgins learn that other people valued her.
“Ah – yes. Well, we'll see you tomorrow.”
“Count on it. Thank you, Chris. Goodbye.” I hung up the phone.
I turned to Alex. “Silas' funeral is tomorrow at nine o'clock in the morning. I promised we would be there.”
“Good we can give June her deed and letter.”
I gestured to the study. “We need to do some research. I also want to find the phone number for the professor at KSU.”
Alex walked toward the study. “I think I'll check the house for any clue to the password on that computer.”
Entering the study, I browsed through the KSU web site and realized that the professor's name matched the email that Tom had sent me concerning Dad's activities on the Internet. I wrote an email to the professor, requesting a meeting as soon as possible, and added my cell phone number.
We spent the remainder of the day pouring over the data contained in the computer, searching through Dad's files, and prowling through the rooms and the attic. We didn't discover anything new.
Finally, we gave up in frustration.
