by Gregg Stutts
“Why? Should I?” he said.
She took another sip and leaned back in her chair. She smiled and said, “Only if you want to kill a defenseless woman.”
He was squeezing the gun so hard, his hand began to cramp. He relaxed his grip. “At least you didn’t say, ‘an innocent woman.’”
She drank some more and propped her black heels on the desk. Now he could see she was wearing a short black skirt to go with the revealing white dress shirt. “So are you accusing me of something?”
He studied her for a moment. She had the air of someone who was accustomed to getting what she wanted at any cost. “I don’t really need to accuse you, do I? We both know what you’ve done.”
She finished her drink, reached for the bottle and filled the glass halfway. “Humor me.”
“This is all a game to you, isn’t it?” Again, he had to relax his grip on the gun. “Political agendas, people’s lives...” He stared at her and shook his head. “For starters, I know you killed Dan Jenkins.”
She mockingly waved her arm. “Oh, please continue. It sounds like you’ve concocted quite a good story.”
He wanted to wipe that smirk right off her face. “And I’ll bet you also had something to do with Andy Reynolds’ supposed suicide.” Her expression was unchanged. “It’s not just that they didn’t vote the way you wanted, there’s more to it than that.”
She shook her head and took another sip. “Ooh, the plot thickens.”
Even though the safety was on, he released his finger from the trigger. “Yeah, I’m right and you know it.” From outside on the street, he heard the yelp of another police siren. He stood to look out the window behind Blair. A second police car was now on the scene.
Blair turned to look outside as well. “My guess is college students,” she said. “Out having a good time...until someone gets a beer spilled on them or cheers for the wrong team or puts a hand on someone else’s girlfriend.” She turned back to Max. “Oh, I know, if they just had some guns, then it would all be better.” She was slurring her words now.
He ignored her and continued. “You were having an affair with Dan. It had to make you furious when he didn’t vote the way you wanted.”
Her eyes narrowed. The corners of her mouth dropped slightly. She finished the contents of her glass and poured another.
“Dan probably knew too much. Like why no one in the media is reporting on your unconstitutional law. Or why someone outside of Lakeside isn’t investigating a string of murders.”
“I liked Dan. I was sorry to see our relationship come to an end.”
“That tends to happen when you put a bullet in someone,” he said. “As for the Lakeside policemen, your boyfriend did those murders.”
She slid the glass away and put the bottle back in her desk. “Sorry, he’s not my boyfriend and I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She was sitting up straight now, but sounding more drunk. “Dan did those murders.”
Contingency plan. “That’s it, isn’t it?” It was all making sense now. “The plan was for all seven of you to vote for the Freedom Protection Act. A united front. A show of solidarity. But Andy and Dan changed their minds. They wouldn’t play your game.”
She leaned back in her chair again and yawned. “I’m getting bored with this story.”
Max got to his feet. He could see the cops were almost finished dispersing the crowd. It looked like the two who were fighting were sitting on the curb in handcuffs. “So you killed Andy. Maybe not you. Maybe Leon. In any case, Dan was still a problem. You’d probably revealed too much to him. Your lover became a liability.”
She yawned again. “I think it’s getting late. You should probably run home to your sweet little wife and daughter.”
But he pressed the attack. “You needed a contingency plan and so you killed Dan and when the cops showed up, your boyfriend—oh wait, I’m sorry, he’s not your boyfriend—killed them to make Dan look like a gun-loving psychopath to garner more support for the gun ban.”
“Your problem, Max, is that you can’t prove any of it,” she said. “There’s not one shred of evidence. There’s just the word of a small town football coach whose had his own run-ins with the law. No one is going to believe a word you’ve said. And while you’re still making all your wild accusations, I’ll be back in Washington eating at the best restaurants in the city.” She laughed. “Ones that aren’t famous for their brisket and baked beans.”
He pulled his phone out and swiped to the picture he had of Dan and Blair in bed, then held it up for her to see. “I’ve still got this.”
She leaned on the desk to get closer. “I look good, don’t I?” She smiled and said, “Does your wife know you have naked pictures of other women on your phone?”
“It might not prove you killed him, but you’d sure have some explaining to do. Like why the city council president is sleeping with a married man. And how he ended up dead. And if, as you claim, he went crazy and killed four innocent police officers, how you could have had no knowledge of what he was thinking or planning.”
Blair looked out the window for a moment, then said, “How much do you want for the picture?”
Now it was Max who laughed. “You don’t get it, do you? You think I’m playing a game, like you.”
She stood, walked around her desk and sat on the edge. “Then what kind of an arrangement can we come to?” She crossed her legs and watched him.
“Dan Jenkins isn’t the psychopath. It’s you.” He shook his head, then turned to leave. At the door, he said, “You’re right, maybe I can’t prove anything, but I can promise you this—you will not last in Lakeside, so you might as well get on a plane and head back to Washington while you still can.”
Chapter 95
An hour later, Max slid his key card into the lock and opened the door. Michelle was still awake reading a book. He sat on the bed next to her and recounted the meeting with Leon and then with Blair. After he finished, she hugged him tight and kissed his neck.
“I wanted to kill them, Shelle. I really did. When Leon threatened you and Carrie, when Blair acted so callously about the men who died, I wanted to kill them.” He shivered at the thought of what he’d just said. “And I feel like I would have been justified.” He removed the gun from his belt and buried it under the clothes in his suitcase.
It was just after midnight when they got into bed and turned the light off. “You’ve been really quiet, Shelle. I would have thought you’d have some questions or something.” He heard her sniffle. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
She reached in the dark and held his hand. “Willy called while you were gone.”
His heart sank. “What did he say?” Even as he asked the question, he knew he didn’t want to know the answer.
“It’s not good news. Rose has a brain tumor.” She squeezed his hand.
Tears filled his eyes and a lump his throat. “What can they do?” he whispered.
“It’s inoperable. Willy thinks they might be able to treat it with radiation, but he didn’t sound hopeful.”
Chapter 96
Sunday, August 17th
Max was up before dawn again. He went to the lobby for coffee, poured a cup and picked up one of the free newspapers. He was going to turn to the sports section, but never made it past the front-page headline: City Council President Found Dead. Under the headline was a picture of Blair Morgan.
He folded the paper and hurried back to the room. Michelle was still asleep, but he nudged her awake, turned the light on and read the headline to her. Carrie was waking up, so Max got her and changed her diaper while Michelle read.
“Oh, Max.” She covered her mouth with her hand.
“What? What is it?”
“Leon is dead too.”
He sat down next to her. “I can’t believe it.”
Michelle folded the paper and tossed it on the bed. “Come sit down.” She patted the bed next to her.
He sat down and said, “If there’s security camera
footage...”
“Max, please tell me...” She stopped.
“What?”
“Did you...” She was trembling.
“Oh, no, Shelle. I promise you. I didn’t shoot Blair and Leon.”
“Then who did?” she said.
Chapter 97
Monday, August 18th
With both Blair Morgan and Leon McQueen dead, it was safe to return home. As of Monday afternoon, nothing new had been made public about the latest murders in Lakeside. And so far, Max hadn’t been questioned, although he felt confident he was the last person to see both victims alive.
After practice, he went to the hospital to see Willy and Rose. After taking the elevator to the third floor, he turned left past the nurse’s station and took a deep breath before knocking lightly on the partially closed door to room 323.
“Come in.” He slowly pushed the door open. Willy was already out of his chair coming to greet him. “Oh, Max, thank you for coming.”
“Yes, thank you for coming,” Rose said. “You really didn’t need to drive all the way down here though.”
“Don’t even talk like that, Rose.” Max leaned down and hugged her tight.
Willy pulled another chair close to the bed for Max. “How are you feeling?” he said. “You look really good.” It was only a little lie.
Willy reached out and took her hand. “I’m a little tired,” she said. “They don’t let you get much sleep around here.”
“They check her vital signs every couple of hours,” Willy said. “Midnight. 2:00. 4:00. 6:00. We haven’t been sleeping much.” Willy pointed to a faded blue vinyl loveseat near the window. “That’s my bed.”
“He’s hardly left my side.” Rose kissed his hand and held it tight to her heart. He gently kissed her lips, lingering for a moment.
“So what is the doctor saying about your treatment? How long will you need to be here?”
Rose and Willy exchanged a glance. “Go ahead, dear,” she said. Willy closed his eyes and looked away, then shook his head. Rose smiled, mostly with her eyes. “They’re going to start me on radiation to try and shrink the tumor.” She leaned over to kiss Willy’s cheek.
“And then once they’ve shrunk the tumor?” Max hoped that maybe Michelle had misunderstood the “inoperable” part.
Rose held Willy tight. “No…no surgery,” she said.
Max put his arm around Willy who sat motionless with his eyes shut. The heart rate monitor attached to Rose was the only sound in the room.
Willy whispered. “We’re going to need a miracle.”
Chapter 98
Eight days later...
Tuesday, August 26th
Max was up extra early to meet Willy for breakfast before heading into school. He was careful to not wake Michelle or Carrie. The moment he opened the front door and stepped outside, he was hit by the smothering humidity. He hoped it was this bad, or worse, a few nights later when they took the field against Bergen Catholic.
Meeting Willy at a restaurant rather than the back deck overlooking the lake wasn’t a good sign. Rose had been home for a week, but the outpatient radiation treatments were taking a toll. She was strong enough to be alone for a couple hours, but didn’t have the energy to cook or get out of the house unless it was for a doctor’s appointment or treatment.
Willy was already seated in a booth near the window. He stood to give Max a hug. He looked tired and like he was down a few pounds. Willy released him, but Max squeezed tighter for another moment. Both men wiped tears from their eyes.
“Thank you for meeting me, Max.” Willy sipped his coffee and set his mug down for their waitress to top it off. She also poured a mug for Max and took their order. After she left, Willy continued. “I know you’ve been through a lot lately and I feel like I’ve let you down. I…”
Max held his hand up and said, “Stop right there, Willy. You’ve let me down? What are you talking about? Your wife’s being treated for a brain tumor.”
“Yes, I know, but…”
He stopped him again. “No, no ‘but’s’, Willy. You have never let me down.” Max took a sip of coffee. “Now tell me how Rose is feeling.”
“She’s…a strong woman.” Willy took a drink of water and stared out the window. “But she’s tired. The radiation and the drugs are tough.” He turned back to Max. “I wish I could take this from her.”
Max remembered saying those exact words more times than he could count after Sarah got sick. He knew Willy meant what he said, just as he’d meant it with his daughter.
“We’ll walk the path the Lord has for us and keep asking for a miracle. And we’ll thank Him for His goodness and faithfulness to us all these many years.”
“Amen,” Max whispered.
Their server dropped off two plates of eggs, bacon and toast. Two bites into it, Willy was quick to point out Rose made a much better breakfast and Max agreed.
“So Max, I have two reasons for wanting to meet with you this morning. I know you’ve got tomorrow night’s game on your mind, so my timing isn’t the best.”
Max took a bite of toast and helped it down with a sip of coffee. “You and Rose are more important to me than any football game.”
“And you, Michelle and little Carrie Rose…” Willy cleared his throat, then continued. “…are like family to us.”
The two men took several bites of food. Their server refilled their coffee and left the check. Willy was the first to reach for it, but Max was quicker. “Don’t even try to argue with me, Willy.” Max sipped his coffee, set the mug down and said, “Now what did you want to tell me?”
“First, let me ask you how you’re doing with Josh’s death. We never got to talk much about it.”
Max felt a surge of adrenaline or anger or both course through his body and almost lift him off his seat. He squeezed the coffee mug so hard he thought it might break in his hand. He set it down and leaned across the table. “I will find out who’s responsible for his death.” He looked behind him even though they were still the only two customers in the restaurant. “And I will make sure Josh gets justice.”
“I would have been surprised if you’d said anything else.” Willy glanced at the clock hanging on the wall behind the counter. “I need to get back to Rose soon, but I…”
“What is it?” He’d never seen Willy at such a loss for words.
Now it was Willy who looked behind him and then toward the counter. Satisfied no one could hear, he said, “Max, I’ve told you some of my story…” He leaned closer. “…but I haven’t quite told you all of it.”
The chronic butterflies that came with football season only intensified. “Why do I feel like we’re sitting around a camp fire and you’re about to tell me a ghost story?”
Willy grinned and rubbed his chin, then glanced behind him one more time before continuing. “After serving in the military and before I became a teacher, I had…let’s call it, another life.”
Max reached for the last bite of bacon, but never took his eyes off Willy. “Another life? What do you mean?”
“After my military service, I went to college with the plan to become a teacher, settle down in a small town and raise a family with Rose.” Willy swallowed some water and glanced at the clock again. “I’m not going to have time to finish, so let me just give you the highlights.”
Max was literally on the edge of his seat now, hanging on every word, but also preparing himself for the moment Willy smiled and said gotcha! Only there was no smile and the gotcha never came.
“One day after a science class, this man in a suit approached me on campus and asked if he could buy me a cup of coffee and talk about a job opportunity.” He paused while their server cleared their plates and refilled their coffee.
“What kind of job?”
“Well, he was a little vague at first, but I agreed to an interview. And that led to a second interview. And then a polygraph.”
“A polygraph? You mean a lie detector test?” What for?”
&
nbsp; “He was recruiting me for a position in the intelligence community.”
Max waited again for the punch line, but none came.
“The actual agency isn’t important right now, but I was hired. After a few years, I was transferred to work on a long-term assignment in intra-government domestic counter-terrorism.”
“Wait, give me that again.” Max reached for another piece of bacon, but he’d eaten it all. He put the last bite of toast in his mouth and waited for Willy to continue.
“We were an agency within an agency within the government. Our role was to identify elements within the government of the United States who were seeking to sabotage us from within.”
