The Dead Peasants' Contract: A Sequel to The Dead Peasants File (The Dead Peasants' Series Book 2)

by L. Craig Harris

  The driver ran over and came back with a roll of tan-colored paper towel. Dillon moved his hand out of the way and the taxi driver wrapped the paper towel roll several times around the guard’s foot, then tore it off and threw the rest of it on the driveway.

  Dillon grabbed the guard by the arm and stood him to his feet. The man struggled against him, but Dillon overpowered him and walked him to the taxi. He spoke to the driver. “Take him to the hospital and don’t go anywhere else. Don’t let him call anyone or tell the police what happened here for at least an hour. Understand?”

  “Yes sir.”

  Dillon handed the driver two one-hundred-dollar bills. “For your trouble.” He peeled off another hundred from the roll and dropped it on the guard’s lap. “You’ll need some new shoes.” He closed the door and watched the taxi glide away from him down the street.

  He realized that his right hand was completely covered in blood. He was just about to wipe it with the paper-towel roll when he got an idea. He closed his eyes and put his hand across his face, leaving a bloody hand print. That should get Charles’ attention. Then he wiped the rest of the blood on his sling.

  He walked up Charles’ long driveway, positioned himself beside the enormous house, and waited for Charles to come out. There was a luxury car parked in the red-rock carport, and Dillon positioned himself near it, behind a crepe myrtle bush. He could see his breath in the cool morning air.

  A few minutes later, the door opened and Charles came out of the house. Dillon stepped out of the shadow and stood in front of him. He put the gun right into Charles’ left temple. “Where’re you going Morgan? To play god with people’s lives?”

  Charles jumped back, startled. He regained himself. “McGee? What are you doing here? And why are you covered in blood?”

  Dillon pressed the gun against his temple. “You aren’t in position to ask questions right now. Just shut up.”

  Charles was quiet for a few seconds, then gestured toward the guard building. “I have a guard stationed right there. He’s probably calling for help right now on his radio.”

  Dillon switched the gun into his left hand, but kept it pointed at Charles. He reached into the sling and pulled out the radio. “Radio? Does it look like this?” He flung it into the grass beside the driveway.

  Charles’ eyes grew larger. “You shot my guard?”

  “Yes I did. And you’re next.”

  Charles put his hands up in front of him. “Wait, let’s talk about this. What do you want from me?”

  “You know what I want. I want you to leave me alone. That’s it.”

  “Okay, you got it. Now get outta here.”

  “No, no, it’s not that simple.” Dillon reached into his pocket and brought out his cell phone. He tapped it with his thumb, while keeping an eye on Charles, and keeping his gun on him. He showed the video of the man on the boat threatening Dillon and being shot.

  Charles watched it without commenting, then looked back at Dillon.

  “Several people have this video,” Dillon said. “I don’t mean Christopher and Travis, they don’t even have it, I mean people around the country. People that you would never suspect. I have told them to never show this video to anyone unless something happens to me.” He looked into Charles’ eyes. “You sent two assassins to kill me and they are both in the morgue. One of them had to be fished from the bottom of the sea.” His eyes were wild with anger. “I would have left him down there.” He lowered his voice to a deliberate tone. “If you send another assassin anywhere near me, he’s dead too.” Dillon leaned closer to Charles’ face. “But I’m not stopping there, I’m coming straight here.” He pushed the gun tightly against Charles’ temple. “Straight here. And I’m going to shoot you while you sleep. I’m going to take all of this away from you.”

  Charles tried to back away from him.

  Dillon stepped up and held his position. “And if you do get to me first, this video is going viral. It’s going to the police and it’s going to the networks.” Dillon backed up a step. “I don’t even care anymore. You’ve taken my life away from me.” He lowered the gun. “I hope you do send an assassin, but he better be better than what I’ve seen so far.”

  Charles looked at him for a long moment, then he spoke. “Well played, Dillon.”

  “This is all a game to you, Mr. Morgan, but these are lives you are ruining. Real people just trying to make a living.” Dillon looked over at the car. “I want you to take me to the airport.”

  Charles nodded.

  Dillon got into the passenger seat and waited for Charles to start the car. Charles backed up and then pulled up to the gate. The guard’s shoe and the paper-towel roll were in the driveway, along with a small amount of blood. Dillon knew Charles saw it, but neither said anything. Charles pulled onto the street and headed toward Denver International Airport.

  There was no small talk. The men rode in silence. Dillon kept the gun loosely trained on him.

  Dillon broke the silence just before they arrived. “I need a show of good faith. I need to know you are not coming after me or my friends.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “I want you to remove the red box from around my church.”

  Charles glanced over at him. He didn’t reply for several seconds, then he nodded. “Done.”

  Dillon felt a surge of power. “And I don’t want any more workers in Springfield to mysteriously disappear.” He looked over at him and tried to sound menacing. “I’m watching you.”

  Charles didn’t respond. He turned into the terminal drop-off and pulled up to the curb.

  Dillon dropped the gun into the backseat floorboard, then got out and stood on the sidewalk until Charles had driven out of sight. He walked into the terminal, found a restroom, and washed the blood off of his face and hands. It had dried on it took him several minutes to get most of it off, especially since his left hand was in the sling.

  He couldn’t stop glancing over his shoulder as he sat and waited for his flight. He kept thinking he would see Charles, with a gang of henchmen, coming up to him. But it wasn’t happening. His flight wasn’t until after lunch so he had a long, agonizing wait. He kept his phone open and watched for signatures on the screen. Nothing.

  Finally, there were only a few minutes until his flight. He watched the time tick down. He counted the minutes until he would be safely out of Denver. He began to breathe when it was almost time. He was about to make it out of there. A suspicious-looking man approached. Dillon could feel sweat running down his face as the man came closer and closer. The man reached into his jacket. Dillon held his breath. The stranger pulled out his airline ticket. Dillon exhaled. The man kept walking and didn’t even look at him.

  The voice on the intercom called for the boarding of his flight. He walked down the tunnel and into the plane. He found his seat and tried to remain calm. It was hard to sit still. Then, the plane was in motion. He closed his eyes. He could breathe again. He was going home.

  *****

  Gabby was waiting for Dillon as he deplaned. She kissed and hugged him tightly for a long time. He winced when she squeezed his shoulder a bit too strongly, but he didn’t care, he was glad to see her. And he was glad to be home.

  “You look rough,” she said when she finally released him. “I can’t believe you’ve been shot twice!”

  “I can’t either, and by the same guy.” He adjusted his bloody sling. “Everybody okay here?”

  “We’re all fine, I was just so worried about you.”

  “I went to a really neat place. I want to take you there as soon as we can afford it.”

  “Come on, let me get you home and you can tell all about it.”

  Dillon stood in the shower, letting the warm water wash away the remnants of blood, the plane, Denver, and the Galveston Hospital. He kept thinking about his confrontation with Charles Morgan. He wondered if that was going to work, or if Charles would be madder than ever now and send someone to finish him off. He was still going
to have to watch over his shoulder for a while. That frustrated him, but he was proud that he had done something. He had fought back. Even if it killed him, he would go down swinging.

  Dillon’s boss greeted him at the sliding doors when he went back to work that evening. “McGee, I didn’t know if you were coming back or not.”

  “Sorry about that, William. I had some things to do.”

  “You must have had one heck of an adventure, by the looks of you.”

  Dillon looked down at his sling. “Yeah, it was interesting.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’re back.”

  Dillon nodded. “So, do I still have my job?”

  “Of course, but you’re covered for tonight. I didn’t know when you were coming back.” He turned and spoke to a woman walking out of the store, then he looked back at Dillon. “Come back tomorrow.”

  A night’s rest sounded good to Dillon. “I appreciate that, but I need to see something in the surveillance room right now if you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all. Be my guest.”

  Dillon walked down the hall and went into the surveillance room. He spoke to the guys who were working, then walked up to the screen and typed his name using only his right hand. There were red boxes around several businesses in town, all the ones he had seen before, but the red box around East Springfield Fellowship Church was gone. Dillon smiled. He looked at the screen for blue signatures. There were none.

  He went home and went to bed early. He slept all night, and if he dreamed, he didn’t remember.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Christopher rejoiced when he finally spoke to Dillon and heard from him that he was home safe in Springfield. Christopher honestly didn’t know whether or not he would come back alive. And he had also worried about what he might do in Denver. Dillon hadn’t told him his plan, only that he ‘knew how to get Charles Morgan’s attention’. So Christopher couldn’t wait to hear all about it.

  Dillon had come to Christopher’s house the evening after he arrived home. He had called him that morning to tell him he was home and that he would come by before work.

  It was early November and there was a chill in the air. The leaves had already peaked in their annual color, and had mostly fallen by now. Christopher met him at the door, hugged him, and escorted him to the living room. He handed him a cup of coffee. “Tell me what happened in Denver.”

  “Well, I walked up to Charles Morgan’s house, knocked on the door, and told him we didn’t appreciate him spying on us and sending assassins to murder us.” He paused. “And we would appreciate it if he would cease and desist trying to ruin our lives.” He took a sip of coffee. “And he said ‘no problem’, then he drove me to the airport.”

  Christopher grinned. “I feel like you’re leaving out a couple of details. No, really, did you actually see him?”

  “I really did. I really did walk up to his house and he really did take me to the airport. Now, some of the other details might be a little sketchy.”

  “Come on, man. You’ve got to tell me what happened.”

  Dillon leaned forward as he sat on the couch. “Remember the roll of hundreds John gave me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I used some that money to buy a gun.”

  Christopher’s eyes grew larger.

  “I bought a gun from some guy the cabbie knew. Then I went to Charles’ house. There is a security gate there, of course, but Ryan, at work, had told me that he could open it. So I called him and he did.”

  “No kidding?”

  “I shot the security guard in the foot–”

  “You shot him?”

  “In the foot.” He adjusted his sling. “He’ll live.”

  “So then what happened?”

  “I walked up and waited for Charles to come outside. He parks his car in a carport, so I just stood by the door and stepped out when he came out of the house.” He glanced at him. “I put the gun to his head and told him I was watching him. I was watching him! I showed him the video and told him it was going viral if he harmed any of us.”

  Christopher liked the sound of that. He nodded.

  “And I told him I would come shoot him in his sleep if any more of his goons came anywhere near any of us.”

  Christopher stared at him, rubbing his chin with his finger and thumb. He was quiet for a moment, then spoke. “What did he say?”

  “I honestly think it may have worked and I’ll tell you why. He removed the red box that was around your church for me.”

  “He did?”

  “Well, I asked him to as a show of good faith. It was gone by the time I got here last night.”

  “I think that is a good sign.”

  “If he’s going to strike back at me, he’s taking his time. He hasn’t made any move in our direction today.” Dillon glanced at his watch. “Well, I need to get to work. They have been really patient with me missing so much, and I don’t want to be late.”

  Christopher walked him to the door. Rachel joined them and hugged Dillon, then went back inside. Christopher followed Dillon out to his truck. “I’m proud of you. You could have killed Charles, but you didn’t. I’m proud that you’re my friend.”

  Dillon turned and looked at him before he got into his truck. “Thanks, Man.”

  Christopher went back into the house and sat in his easy chair. He hated going to sleep because he kept dreaming about the day at sea. How could something so ugly have happened at such a beautiful place? He was in paradise, but men’s hearts are full of sin. He planned to use that illustration if he ever got to preach again. He hoped the dreams would subside, but he knew it might take a while. He had seen two men shot dead in front of him, and he had never felt so close to death, even more than his first trip to Denver; even more than the night in the conference room when the man kept hitting him on the head with the phone book. That was horrible, but this was even worse. Preachers aren’t supposed to go through this much trauma. Preachers were supposed to help others cope with their dramas.

  He wondered if the worst was behind them. Would Charles dare come after them again? Would he risk that video being shown to the media? He was glad he had Dillon, his guardian angel, watching over him. He breathed a prayer of thanks. And he prayed that all of them would have a time of peace now.

  The next day, Christopher went to the field where he thought Dillon had thrown his cell phone. He had made a mental note of where they were when it happened. Rain clouds were above him and he was hoping to find it before the drops began to fall. After an hour’s search, he found it, just as it began to sprinkle. He took it back to his car and sat in the driver’s seat, turning on the heater for warmth.

  He used a bent paperclip to remove the sim card, then threw it out the window. He planned to get another cell phone, just in case, but wanted to make sure he retrieved his photos and contacts first. Everything was supposed to be backed-up in the cloud, but he wanted to make sure. And he didn’t want some unsuspecting teenager to find the phone and end up in harm’s way.

  He went into Morgan Retail and bought a new cell phone. His first call was to Travis. “Are you guys okay?”

  “We’re doing just fine,” Travis said. “It’s so good to hear from you.”

  “Rachel told me she’s been talking to you. So, you know that Dillon went to Denver and confronted Charles.”

  “Yes, Julia talked to Rachel last night. I’m just glad he got home safely.”

  “Me too. I’m also glad he didn’t have to shoot anyone while he was there.”

  “Yeah, I think we’ve seen enough death.”

  Christopher took a sip of coffee. “This is going to take some time for us to get over. It’s not going to happen overnight. I hope you and Julia are coping.”

  “It’s not pleasant,” Travis said. “I shot and killed a man. I have to live with that.”

  “I know it’s hard, but please remember you saved our lives. He might have killed us all if you hadn’t.”

  “Oh, I know, but it’s h
ard not to think about it. Every time I close my eyes, I see him lying on the deck of our boat.”

  “I know.” Christopher said. “And the other man being shot with the flare. It’s hard to stop thinking about both of them.”

  “I think it’s important that we all talk about it,” Travis said. “We need to work through this.”

  Christopher glanced over at Rachel, who was sitting on the couch. “I agree. Rachel told me it worked out with the bodies and the police.”

  “Yes, we showed them the video, oh, and Tiny was a real trooper. He told them what happened.” Travis paused. “He has become a good friend to me. He’s painting our boat and replacing the glass so we can take it out again.”

  Christopher nodded. “I’m glad to hear that. So you don’t have to go to trial or anything?”

  “No, the video proved it was self-defense. They said no charges would be filed.” He was quiet for a moment. “They shipped the bodies back to Denver, I think.”

  “How is Julia handling all of this?”

  “You know, she’s really strong. I’m proud of her. She couldn’t sleep for a couple of nights, but, well, I couldn’t either, but I think we’re going to be okay.”

  “My prayer is for peace for all of us.”

  “Amen.”

  Christopher changed the subject. “So, it’s cold up here, how’s the weather down there?”

  “Warm and comfortable. It’s kind of strange, but I’m standing on the porch right now in shorts.”

  “Do you miss the seasons?”

  “Not really. Well maybe a little. We both miss the fall colors, but the warm days really agree with us.”

  “I’m so glad. Hey, stay in touch.”

  “We will. Remember, we want you to come see us as soon as you can.”

  “Count on it. Love you guys.” Christopher ended the call. He looked over at Rachel. He wondered what was next for them. Would the church call him back to the pulpit or let him go? He felt guilty for thinking about his job when men were dead. He realized he would hold everything to that standard for a long time, maybe for the rest of his life. He had often preached that this life was just temporary, but he felt the truth of that more than ever. Life was short, but it was precious. His had almost been taken from him. It had been taken from the men at sea. He didn’t know anything about them. He didn’t even know if they had families, but he knew someone was mourning over them. And he couldn’t stop wondering where they stood with God. The evidence certainly didn’t look good.