by J. M. LeDuc
Before she could say anything else, Brent broke in, “Ms. Smith, I don’t know yet why I was left those books, but I am very grateful and indebted to Joe. The one thing I do know is that there was nothing else in those boxes. This I can assure you. So, I’m afraid you’ll have to look elsewhere for whatever it is you’re looking for.” He paused for a moment. “Oh, and one more thing—I’m not threatened that easily, so you can stop with the rhetoric.”
Maddie reached out with both hands and laid them on top of his. In a near-whisper, she said, “Mr. Venturi, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into. I suggest you allow me to go through the shipment myself and if there is anything in there that, how shall I say it, could cause you displeasure, I’ll be charitable enough to take it off your hands.”
Brent leaned forward, putting him mere inches away from Maddie’s face. “Since we’ve gone straight to the point, how about you telling me what it is I’ve gotten myself into?”
From that proximity, Maddie studied his eyes more closely. She was sure she knew him from somewhere. But she couldn’t put her finger on it, and the familiarity made her nervous. She pulled back just enough to focus on his face.
“All I can tell you is this. Joseph Conklin was the very best at what he did, and he is dead. That doesn’t bode very well for you.” She felt the pulse in his hands beat faster as she spoke. Was he weakening?
Brent leaned back and pulled his hands out from under hers. He looked directly into her eyes for the first time. They were the greenest, most amazing eyes he had ever seen. Without knowing it, his eyes traveled to her neck, then to her chest. As Maddie breathed in and out, her breasts moved rhythmically. The movement was enough to put him in a trance. Maddie, seeing where his eyes had moved, laid her unbuttoned bodice aside, slightly exposing the top of her lace bra.
At that moment, the waitress returned with their food. “If I can get you anything else, just let me know.”
The interruption brought Brent back to reality. He gathered his wits and glanced at his watch.
“Can we get the check, also?”
Ripping it from her pad, she said, “Have a great day.”
Brent reached for the bill. “I’d better get back to work.” He looked back at Maddie, “I need a couple of days to sort things out. Can I reach you at the number you gave me, Miss Smith?”
“You may,” she said.
Brent stood to say good-bye. When Maddie stood, she shifted to make sure the slit in her dress showed her thigh. In a bedroom voice, she said, “I look forward to your phone call, Brent.”
He held out his hand, which gave her the chance to move closer so that their bodies lightly touched. She gave him a peck on the cheek.
Then she moved her mouth to his ear as she dropped her free hand to the front of his pants and squeezed gently. She whispered, “Work with me, Brent and I’ll take you to heaven.” Squeezing harder, she said in an evil tone, “Work against me and you and all your loved ones will wish they were in hell.”
Maddie moved away from Brent, gathered her purse and sauntered out of the restaurant. Sorry, Joseph, she thought, but when subtle doesn’t work, there’s always good ole direct and sluttish. Some guys just need a hand every now and then. A devilish smile crossed her lips as she sauntered into the midday sun.
What the heck was that? Brent asked himself. No wonder Lucille warned me not to get close. Black widow was putting it lightly.
CHAPTER 10
On the way back to the library, Brent remembered that Lucille told him not to believe a word Maddie said, but not to forget it either. He had to write everything down while it was still fresh in his mind so he and Lucille could discuss it tonight. He quickened his step.
He walked past Joan, who had been watching for him to come in. “Whoever you had your business meeting with left a little lipstick on your collar,” she remarked.
Brent pulled it toward his face. “It’s not what you think, Joan,” he said. He walked to his office and yelled over his shoulder, “I’m not to be disturbed this afternoon. I have a lot of work to do before I leave. Got that?”
“Got it, Romeo,” Joan replied with a giggle.
He shut and locked the door behind him. He grabbed a blank sheet of paper and wrote down everything he could remember about their conversation. As he did, he wondered if she was just talking trash to scare him or if she was serious, but it did make him wonder about Joseph Conklin. What had he done for a living that he was best at and why did it cause him to die?
He continued to write. He remembered what Maddie said about him and his loved ones wishing they were in hell if he didn’t “work” with her. Whatever she meant, it couldn’t be anything good.
Brent started to think about the boxes of books, trying to remember everything he did as he removed and unwrapped the books. He’d been so excited when he saw the contents. Could he have missed something? No, he thought, there was nothing else in the boxes except his grandfather’s letter. The letter! She couldn’t have meant that, could she? He took it out and re-read it:
Trust No One
With Age Comes Wisdom
Youth Is For the Foolhardy
Foolishness Leads To Death
The Pen Is Mightier Than the Sword
Both Can Kill You
Use Them Wisely
_______________________
No Man Is an Island
He reasoned, If this is what she wants, then they must be clues to something. But clues to what? Did they have anything to do with Joe’s death? What did my grandfather have to do with all of this? Too many questions, not enough answers. He hoped tonight’s get-together with Lucille would change that.
As he held the note, he thought, The one thing I do know is that Maddie will never see this paper or the contents of the boxes. At least, not until I figure out what the hell is going on. After all, he had no family or loved ones, so it was only himself he had to worry about, and he could take care of himself.
Brent wanted to go behind the bookcase and look in the boxes one more time just to be sure he hadn’t missed something. But that would be much too risky while the library was open. It would have to wait until later. Maybe he would come back after his dinner with Lucille.
CHAPTER 11
Maddie might have left the restaurant wearing that devilish grin of satisfaction if it hadn’t been for her surprise and frustration. She underestimated Brent. She thought he would be easy pickings, a wimpy librarian who only cared about books, not whatever else had been stored in the boxes. What else was in them? Maddie honestly didn’t know. She did know it was the only secret that Joseph ever kept from her, and that it was enough to draw the attention of Donavan Ferric. Ferric was the only assignment Joseph Conklin, the greatest espionage agent this world had ever known, did not completed.
Maddie couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew Brent from somewhere. It was so strong that she swore she hadn’t just met him in passing, but had known him well. She didn’t know how, but she planned to find out.
When she reached her car, Maddie felt her cell phone vibrate inside her purse. She fumbled to reach it before it stopped. Maybe Brent had already made up his mind. Finally, she thought, as she grabbed her phone and quickly checked the caller ID. It’s Ferric. Oh well, this is as good a time as any to get this over with.
She’d learned long ago that the tone in her voice mimicked the expression she outwardly portrayed, so she pasted a big smile on her face and took a deep breath. Putting the phone to her ear, she said “Mr. Ferric, so nice to hear from you. I was just getting ready to call you.”
She heard heavy labored breathing at the other end just before he spoke. Every few words were preceded by a gurgling, sucking sound, the sound one made when they couldn’t get enough oxygen. “Miss Smith, I assume our business is completed.”
“Not just yet, sir, but it should be wrapped up within
forty-eight hours.” The silence was followed by more sucking and gurgling and made Maddie nervous.
“Miss Smith, we had a deal. You’ve had your chance to accomplish the task using your ‘talents’. Since you’ve failed, we’ll do it my way.”
Maddie took offense at his saying she’d failed, but she suppressed her emotions. “Mr. Ferric, I did not fail. I just need more time.”
Coughing, then hacking filled her ear. “Miss Smith, the one thing I do not have is time.”
“Donavan,” she said sweetly, “I’ve prepped him to let me go through the boxes myself to see if anything is there, but it would go much smoother if I knew what I was looking for.”
“Miss Smith,” he responded amid worse gurgling, “all you need to know is what I tell you and,” his breathing became labored, “don’t ever call me by my first name again. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir, I understand. I apologize if I was disrespectful. Let me reassure you that I’m very close to getting whatever else is in those boxes.”
Donavan Ferric had become very annoyed, and it showed in his manner of speech. He annunciated every word with succinct clarity and forcefulness. “Miss Smith, you don’t even know if it is in his possession. Isn’t that correct?”
It was Maddie’s turn to be silent. Her heart beat harder and faster as she answered. Stammering, she replied, “Well…um…yes sir, I suppose that’s true. But he is the only logical target. If Joseph didn’t leave whatever it is with me, he must have passed it to him. Why else would he have given a person he hardly knew that package? Besides, who else is there?”
The sucking and gurgling turned to gasping as Donavan emphasized, “That’s what I’m going to find out!” The connection went dead.
Maddie flipped her phone shut and stood beside her car, shaking. She placed both hands on top of the doorframe to steady herself. That crazy old fool, she thought, does he really think this type of intelligence retrieval can be obtained in one day? The more she thought about it, the more she rationalized the situation. He’s been in the game for many years and understands the intricacies of the business. I’m sure he was just blowing off steam. The internal conversation calmed her down; more composed, she got into her car and drove off. There was nothing more she could do until Brent called her.
Donavan did know how the business worked and he wasn’t just blowing off steam, as Maddie wanted to believe. He was old, sick and he didn’t have time to waste. As Thomas, Ferric’s valet, hung up the phone, he watched his employer shake uncontrollably. “I knew you should have let me handle that conversation with Miss Smith,” he said. Donavan Ferric, once strong and agile, had never backed down from any confrontation. Stricken with a muscle-wasting disease, he was now weak, frail and confined to a wheelchair, dependent on oxygen to help him breathe.
He looked up at Thomas. In a wheezy, raspy voice, he ordered, “Go to Plan B. I can’t bank on Miss Smith’s hunch that the librarian has the formula in his possession.”
“Yes, sir,” he answered with a villainous smile. Thomas was not only Ferric’s valet, he was his friend, confidante and sometimes, his muscle. He liked nothing more than the “interrogation” process.
Donavan Ferric was the antithesis of Joseph Conklin. He cared nothing for his country. In fact, he didn’t remember to which country he owed his patriotism. He used any possible means to retrieve the information or the item his clients requested—any method of interrogation, no matter how cruel or sadistic, as long as it was the quickest. Money was his only god. If the price was right, he had no problem with the assignment. He was the best and highest paid mercenary in the world.
CHAPTER 12
Donavan Ferric and Joseph had been adversaries for more than thirty years. Ferric always the go-between and the main target was always his employer. It had never seemed expedient to eliminate him. For Joseph Conklin and the S.I.A.’s part, Ferric was more useful alive than dead as long as he was watched and kept in check. They’d thought that until September 30, approximately one month ago. On that day, Joseph and Donavan were scheduled to meet to discuss price on rather benign information that concerned one of Ferric’s clients.
The agency, Joseph in particular, didn’t see the necessity of wading through protocol in this case since the situation was so amiable. The men had met many times before and always treated one another cordially.
On that fateful evening, everything went as planned; the price had been agreed upon, and information and cash were exchanged. As they were about to part company, Thomas turned Donavan’s wheelchair to block Joseph’s exit. “Just one more thing, old friend,” Ferric had said. “I’ve been doing quite a bit of research, and it’s come to my attention that you may be in possession of the world’s best-kept secret.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Donavan. We both have many secrets, don’t we?” Conklin answered.
“Don’t be coy with me, Joseph. Let me put it plainly so that even you can understand. Do you possess the formula for the fountain of youth?” After a moment of awkward silence, Ferric said, “You don’t have to answer that. I know you do.”
“You know what?” Joseph asked.
“I know that there is a formula for youth and longevity that has been passed down for centuries, and I know that it is now in your possession. That’s what I know,” Ferric retorted. The fact that Ferric, of all people, knew this caught Joseph off guard.
In truth, there was a secret formula that kept people young and in good health for hundreds of years.
The secret had been passed down for centuries, from one person in each generation to one person in the next. It is believed that it was once entombed in Solomon’s temple and later carried in the Ark of the Covenant. The person having the secret was always above reproach, of high moral and ethical fiber, a person who would never risk using, formulating or selling the formula. It is indeed the secret of life, at least, a very long healthy life. It was told that it allowed Adam to live for 930 years, Noah for 950 years, and so on. But the secret of life had also been responsible for much of the world’s evil and corruption.
The story was told that when God saw how corrupt and evil the world had become, he found one man, Noah, who had enough moral and ethical substance to be worth saving. He destroyed everything else. He sent rains and the great flood to wipe out everything—plants, animals, birds, things that crawled, bugs and man. He saved only the beings on the ark.
After the floodwaters subsided, God allowed everything to flourish—everything except one plant, a plant that had once grown in abundance; the herb that contained the formula for a long, healthy life. The Lord said that no man would now live longer than 120 years.
The story continued that when the dove went out of the ark in search of dry land, it returned not with the olive leaf as it is written in the Bible, but with the only remaining branch of the herb of life. When Noah took the branch from the mouth of the dove, God spoke to him, telling him that this herb must always be kept from generation to generation as a reminder of what once had been. But if it was ever discovered by the masses or ingested, such evil and corruption would again cover the earth and He would have no choice but to destroy every living thing—this time without exception.
“My friend,” Joseph said, “if there were such a secret and you knew of it, then you would also know that evil will be released into the world if it were ever used. So I…”
“Look at me!” Ferric yelled with his remaining strength. “I don’t give a damn about the world and some fable. I only care about myself and regaining my health.”
“That’s the problem, isn’t it, my friend?” replied Joseph.
“I’m not your friend, and I will have what I need, if not through you, then in spite of you.” With that, Thomas pointed a small stun gun at Joseph and pulled the trigger. The voltage was so powerful that it instantaneously caused Joseph’s heart to stop and led to a massive heart atta
ck. Thomas turned the wheelchair around and pushed Ferric out of the restaurant as if nothing had happened.
Joseph fell back, slumped in the booth. He grabbed his chest, struggling to breathe. He reached into his pocket for his cell phone. His hand shook and cramped to such a degree that it took a few extra seconds to grasp it and punch the star key. Within minutes, a helicopter arrived, hooked him up to life support, and flew him to an undisclosed hospital.
The next day, a small article in the local paper stated that an elderly gentleman had suffered a major heart attack while dining alone. The article went on to say that, by the time the ambulance arrived, it was too late to save him. His name was being withheld until his next-of-kin could be contacted.
Two days later, Joseph Conklin’s obituary appeared in the newspaper.
CHAPTER 13
Brent had just enough time to shower, change his clothes and walk to Lucille’s. As he stood shaving, he went over everything that happened in the last two days; more specifically, everything Maddie said to him. He didn’t want to leave anything out.
He thought excitedly about what their conversation tonight might entail. He thought of the note in the box and wondered how and if Lucille had known his grandfather.
It was dark when he stepped outside. I’ll never get used to these time changes, he thought, and struck out for the ten-minute walk to Lucille’s. The closer he got, the more excited his thoughts became and his step unconsciously quickened until finally, he was running. He was surprised to see that the homes on her block were built in the same architectural style as those on his block. Even though Palm Cove had always been his home, he’d never ventured down this dead-end road. There’d never been a reason before now to visit the area.
