Love, Lies, & Crime: Anthology

by Kimberly Blalock

  “You’re my patient, Mr. Moore. That type of behavior will not be tolerated.”

  “So it’s Mr. Moore now?” Her breath hitches. “You seem so angry, but your eyes betray your true emotion. I bet your pussy is aching to be touched,” I provoke. She sits down at her desk in a huff, trying to disregard my statement, but her thighs clench together tightly after she crosses her right leg over the left.

  “Are you done patronizing me, now? We can either continue your session, or I can call a CO to take you back to your cell. Final warning!” Her eyes dance to mine nervously as she tries to keep her façade of professionalism in place.

  I brace my hands on the edge of her desk, and lean in close to her. “You wanted me to discuss how I felt. I showed you instead. My urges control ME. Regardless of the emotion–anger, angst, fear, hatred, despair…it all is expressed through controlling others before they have the chance to control me. Give me a taste, and I’ll devour you entirely. And you, Dr. Hampton have only peaked my hunger.”

  She steels her spine and exhales a staggering breath. “What intrigues me most, Mr. Moore, is that every emotion you explained is negative. Are you truly so tormented that you have not an inch of happiness within you?”

  “Oh I’ve got more than an inch, and if you call me Mr. Moore one more time, I might be inclined to bend you over your desk and fuck you into next week.” I grip my hardened cock roughly through my pants, chuckling with excitement as a pink blush creeps up her neck, splaying over her face.

  “I can understand your emotion at the moment, Josh. But you need to understand there are consequences for your actions.” Rolling her eyes in disgust, Dr. Hampton picks up the phone and begins to dial a few numbers before turning away from me as she speaks, “Yes, this is Dr. Hampton. It seems my session with Mr. Moore has taken a violent turn, I need the assistance of a CO please.”

  THERAPY SESSION # 5

  My eyes pinch together as they adjust to the bright florescent lights. My hands are cuffed and shackled to my ankles, the heavy metal clinking loudly against the concrete floor as my feet shuffle forward. The guard stops in front of Dr. Hampton’s office then swipes his keycard over the scanner. I hear a sudden inhale of breath, as if she’s depleting the room of oxygen while she takes in the sight of me, and I keep my eyes zoned in on the floor, ashamed to look her in the face.

  “Officer, please remove Mr. Moore’s restraints. That isn’t necessary.” She speaks with an air of authority, but I can hear the slight tremble in her voice. The guard follows her instructions then leaves.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Moore. How are you feeling today?” Her heels tap against the floor as she moves around the desk to her chair in the corner. I remain silent.

  “Mr. Moore, I’m sure that you are upset with the punishment of Disciplinary Segregation, but I had to make you fully aware that our relationship must remain strictly professional or I can no longer treat you as a patient. I want to help you, but I need your word that you’ll keep your actions in check while in our sessions. Is that understood?”

  I nod. After our last session, Doc had sent to Solitary Confinement for two weeks. Truth be told, I’d been happier if she’d left me there to rot in my misery.

  “So am I to assume that you will be remaining silent in our session today?”

  “I ain’t got much shit to say, doc.”

  She stands up and closes the distance between us, the sweet scent of cherry blossoms permeating the air. “Josh, I need for you to open up to me, but the first step is being honest with yourself. You have spent as much time in Solitary as you have in GenPop. Did you intentionally provoke me to send you to confinement at our last session?”

  Her eyes are soft and hopeful, almost pleading for the response she knows I’ll give, although we both know it can’t be.

  “You said it yourself, I suffer from antisocial disorder. I’d rather be left alone. Bustin’ that fucker’s face in the yard last time didn’t get me enough time. Figured toyin’ with you might do the trick.” I shrug carelessly.

  Her soft hand gently lay upon my knee, and her face looks sad and wounded. “You are a liar.”

  I flex my hands into fists, painfully diggin’ my nails into my palms as I fight the urge to caress her angelic face. “You’ve made your point clear, but I warned you that I was best with actions rather than words. Now, unless you are comfortable with my acting upon impulse for how I’m feeling, I’d suggest you stop touching me because next time, I won’t stop at rippin’ your fuckin’ shirt off your chest.”

  Her eyes widen and she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth as she slowly removes her hand from my knee. She takes four cautious steps backward, her knees hitting the back of her chair and forcing her to sit. She blinks her eyes closed, pinching them together tightly as she stows her rapid breathing.

  “You mentioned in our last session that two agents had come to visit you. You never elaborated on that visit, but I think as time has passed, you’ve had the opportunity to reflect on the severity of the situation. Let’s discuss that.”

  “There’s not much to discuss. They want intel that will help them build a case against Drew.”

  “I understand the situation, Josh. I think it would be in your best interest to comply. I know it’s difficult to see past the darkness, but you’ve made progress letting go of Savannah. You could still have a life after prison if you pay your penance. I think this is your chance.”

  I’m no fuckin’ narc. Loyalty means something to me, always has. But Drew fuckin’ Varney played me like a weak ass violin, and putting my trust in him is exactly why I’m sitting here today. So fuck loyalty, fuck trust, and fuck Drew fuckin’ Varney!

  “Monday, November 7th. Federal Agents Dylan Warren and Alisa Pack interrogating Josh Moore, inmate at the Hatfield County Detention Center in regards to missing person’s case H01-S765T and the investigation of Black Pike mines case H01-B832Y. Mr. Moore has consented to the recording of this interview and has agreed to comply with the nature of our investigation.” Agent Ball-Sack places the recorder in the center of the table and leans back, flicking a pen between his fingers.

  Alisa leans forward and studies my face briefly. “Josh, I want you to start from the beginning and leave no leaf unturned.”

  The beginning. Where exactly is the beginning? Where it all began for Big John, or from the moment I entered his twisted underground world of lies? Determined to leave no leaf unturned, I start with where it all leads back to me. Black Pike.

  “Big John Simon had a sharp business sense, and didn’t care who was harmed in his path. As long as he was making millions of dollars, he gave zero fucks about anything else. Black Pike was closed after the strike in the late eighties. MSHA deemed it unsafe due to the crumbling roof. Big John sold Black Pike, even had legal documentation as proof of sale. In all reality, the sale was a front. He used Black Pike as a landfill for waste and slurry from other mines, among other things.” I pause briefly, clearing my throat. Damn, it’s hot in here. “Can I get some water?” I ask nobody specifically, then watch as Alisa leaves the room, returning only seconds later with a bottle of water. I remove the cap, draining the contents quickly, quenching my thirst.

  “Coal wasn’t the only game Big John was good at. He was co-owner in Dalton Trucking, owner of Braxton Excavation, as well as a few smaller businesses that he used as a front to shield Black Pike in his shell corporation – Kings’ Triumph.” I lean back in the metal chair, lacing my hands behind my head. “I was the game changer. Big John had the right connections, but I had the intelligence and capability to launder money, making it nearly untraceable. I was a valuable asset to his business making us all millionaires.”

  “Money laundering?” Alisa questions. “Just how deep does this run?”

  I grin at the agents like the Cheshire cat, knowing full well that I have enough intel to bring down half the politicians and criminals across the south. “Deeper than you could imagine. We had contracts with criminals, hiding their propert
ies and assets so they could evade taxes. We laundered money for politicians so they’re illegal hobbies didn’t go noticed in the public eye.”

  “How many shell corporations were there exactly? We need all the facts, Josh.”

  “Too many to count, really. I formed Destin Andrews in Delaware about nine years ago, then slowly began structuring more and more shell companies within, making it difficult to trace any laundering or trade transactions. Big John willed Braxton Excavation and Black Pike to me upon his passing. There is documentation of every transaction, I can assure you. James McCoy kept a detailed ledger as a way to ensure the accountability with our business partners.” Transaction ledgers were also a very important key for black mail opportunities, as well. If Alisa hasn’t stumbled across the ledgers at James’ office in all this time, my guess is they’re in safe keeping. But who knows where.”

  Agent Ball-Sack clicks a button on the recording device, then places it in his pocket before standing up. Stretching his arms above his head briefly, he looks down to Alisa and says, “Let’s take ten. I need some coffee, and I have a feeling we’re just getting started.”

  Alisa nods, then looks over at me. “Take a breather. You’re doing very well. Can I get you anything?” I reply with a shake of the head. With that, she nods and leaves me alone. Alone inside my head…where the darkness lies. The buzzing light fixture overhead sings silently, soothing me to a calm. I drag my fingers through my hair, it’s grown long through the months.

  The room is small and dank, only a small metal table and three chairs occupying the space. Red chips of paint speckle through the top layer of gray that’s peeling back and cracked along the walls. I’ve adapted to confinement. Solitude gives me peace, time to reflect through my innermost dark thoughts. It’s when I’m in the company of others that I begin to feel the suffocating need to escape. Incarceration will do that to you.

  “Are you ready to proceed, Josh?” Alisa’s voice startles me from my thoughts. I nod, ready to get the truth out in the open. Agent Ball-Sack turns on the recording device, placing it back in the center of the table, again, silently encouraging me to begin.

  “This is all so complex. The FBI has been investigating Black Pike for several years and could never find a trace of ownership. How did you slip up? How did an attorney uncover what we couldn’t find? Our resources are far greater,” Agent Ball-Sack comments.

  “I fucked up. Paid off a lackey to do a job from the wrong account. Simple paper error. I’d been runnin’ on no sleep and a fifth of Jim Beam, up to my eyeballs in worry and paperwork. Simple fuckin’ mistake.” I laugh inwardly, considering how monumental that one error had been.

  “So you’ve told us how everyone fits into the equation, except Drew Varney. What was his role in the business?”

  “Drew was the heir to Big John’s underground financial schemes. It didn’t take long for him to learn the ropes. Once Big John was comfortable with his competence and business ethics, he handed everything over to Drew, making him the shot caller. But Drew was greedy. He had everything a man could imagine, but wanted the one thing that didn’t belong to him, yet he felt it should. Simon Energy. Being his righthand man, I’ve always listened to any instruction given, without question. That was my mistake. Drew thought by sabotaging Simon Energy, it would scare Carly into selling the business. He ordered me to hire an insider to damage equipment at Simon Energy.”

  “And did you follow through?”

  “I did one better than that. I fuckin’ hired a guy and joined in on the fuckin’ party. I hated Carly as much as he did. She came along at the wrong time and fucked everything to hell.

  “While that’s all another mark against Mr. Varney, the bigger picture is right in front of us, Agent Pack,” Agent Ball-Sack interrupts. “I’m more interested in your laundering activities, Mr. Moore. We need names, dates, and transaction history,” Agent Ball-Sack requests, sliding a legal pad and pen across the table.

  “Fuck you! I’m giving you the information you need to build a case against Drew and James. I’m not going to bury my ass deep under every cartel and politician we’ve ever worked with. I may have a shit future ahead, but I’d like to continue breathing, nonetheless.”

  “Mr. Moore, you agreed to comply with this investigation. The more information you can give us, the more leverage we can give the state’s attorney for your charges. Do you not understand that?” He begins to argue, but I have no patience for this shit right now.

  “I’m done. Fuck you both, the FBI and your fuckin’ investigation.” I shoot up from the table slamming the chair roughly against the paint chipped wall. “GUARD!” I shout, stepping toward the door, anxious to leave.

  “Josh, WAIT! You really need to hear me out!” Alisa yells, slamming her hands down on the table with a loud thud.

  “You can’t be serious, Agent Pack.” Agent Ball-Sack chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief.

  “Agent Warren, out!”

  “As a heart attack. Please, let me speak with Mr. Moore in private,” she replies with a shaky voice.

  Agent Warren gives Alisa a curt nod before shooting a concerned look in my direction. “I’ll go get some coffee…be right outside when you’re ready for me.”

  The urgency in Alisa’s voice alarms me, so I pull the chair back under my ass, resolved to hear her out. When the door clicks closed, she presses pause on the recorder, then braces her hands on the table top while she steadies her breath. “Josh, I didn’t want to bring this up, to use this against you as a bargaining chip. You have done some sinister things in your life, but deep down inside I know you are still a father.”

  “Alisa, don’t bring my damn kids in the middle of this,” I shout. Everyone knows they are the weakness to my rotten core.

  “They’ve been in the middle of it all this time! They’re not safe!” she yells, tossing a newspaper in my direction. I loosen the wrinkled fold, and my eyes immediately lock on the horrific image printed center of the front page. Fear and shock withdraw the air from my lungs. My eyes scan over the news article several times before the realization of what that bastard’s done finally sinks in.

  “You’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me!” I flip the table across the room before I even realize I’ve raised to my feet. “I’ll fuckin’ kill him!” My voice rings loudly in my ears. He’s their fuckin’ uncle, and has resorted to taking their home, nearly killing someone just to get the attention of who? Savannah? Carly? Me?

  “Josh, there hasn’t been an arrest in the arson at the Simon estate. We are simply speculating that Drew was responsible at this point. But you have the power to bring him down. He nearly killed a man in that fire! What if it’d been one of your children? What if they’re next?” I hear Alisa explain, but I’m wound up so tight that I pace the small space, trying to calm the fury snaking up by back.

  So many fuckin’ unanswered questions race through my mind. What motive did Drew have to burn down the Simon Estate? Aside from revenge. Are Savannah and my children safe from this psychopath? What’s his next move? And finally, the one question that I don’t want to know the answer to, yet it’s circulating through my mind with the force of a tornado…who is he?

  To be Continued in Depths of Darkness

  (BURIED SECRETS BOOK 4)

  Expected Release—March 2017

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