“You!” Martin growled. He lunged for the back of the van. Jed caught him by the shirt and spun him around.
“It’s just you and me Vecelli. One on One. No weapons,” Jed said in a dark menacing voice. If I were Martin, I would turn around and run into the woods as fast as I could. But we all knew he wasn’t smart. He turned to face Jed and rushed him. I could tell by the look on Jed’s face that he had been hoping Martin would do just that.
Jed easily stepped out of Martin’s way and shoved him. Spinning back around, Martin threw a punch, which Jed ducked. Jed landed an uppercut into Martin’s jaw that sent him flying backward onto the ground. It was clearly an uneven fight. Jed advanced on Martin as he scrambled to his feet. I could tell Martin was getting madder by the second. He put his head down and charged into Jed, sending them both to the ground.
Gasping, I asked Kent, “Aren’t you going to do something?”
“Oh! Right!” Kent said, pulling out his phone. Dialing the number to the police, Kent gave them directions on how to find us and what was going on.
“I meant about Jed,” I said, watching as Jed and Martin threw one punch after another at each other.
“Nah, Jed’s got him beat hands down,” Kent said nonchalantly as we watched. Sure enough, Jed rolled Martin off him and sent a massive blow to his jaw. While Martin lay there stunned, Jed flipped him over on his back and pulled his hands behind his back and secured them with a zip tie he must have had in his pocket.
“The police are on their way,” Kent told Jed.
Nodding, Jed climbed unsteadily to his feet and caught my eye. When he held out his arms for me, I let go of Kent and ran straight into his arms. His big body curled around me. I found myself engulfed by his large muscular arms and chest. “I’m sorry it took so long for us to find you,” he whispered into my hair. I felt his lips kissing my head and cheeks.
“You got here at just the right moment. I knew you would come for me,” I whispered back.
“You’re not hurt?” he asked.
I tried to shake my head in answer, but he was holding me so tightly I couldn’t move. Instead I said, “No, I’m fine.”
He squeezed me even harder, rocking back and forth with me.
Kent said, “If you guys are good here, I am going to walk back to our car, so that the police know which way to come in.”
Jed lifted his head, “Good thinking. Thanks,” he told Kent.
“I thought we were going to be too late,” he told me, looking into my eyes.
I told him about them giving me something and not waking up until a little bit ago. I told him what I had overheard and what Martin had said.
“So the organization probably doesn’t know what Martin was doing. It looks like maybe he was working on his own this time. He probably used his thoughts of revenge as an excuse to kidnap you.”
“Yes. That was the impression that I got. I think he’s responsible for the missing boys.”
“I’m sure you’re right. The question is who ordered them killed.”
“Do you think it is still ok for Kent to go to the meeting tonight?” I asked Jed snuggling closer to his warmth.
“Let’s hope so. That information would be very valuable, especially to the police.”
The sound of police sirens coming closer filled the air. “I want you to go the hospital and have them check you out. I’m worried about whatever it was he gave you to knock you out,” Jed said.
“Is that really necessary?” I complained. The last thing I wanted to do was be carted off to the hospital to have my blood drawn. I was anxious to find out what was going to happen at the meeting Kent was going to.
“Yes, it’s necessary,” Jed said, taking my hand, as we heard the sound of Kent and the police coming up the trail.
Two policemen rushed over to Martin and hauled him to his feet.
“Mr. Vecelli, so good to see you again,” Detective Cooper said as he walked up behind them. “Boy’s, I’m sure you have some bright shiny bracelets that Mr. Vecelli can have. Then call a tow truck for this van. I have a feeling that he is not going to need it for a very long time where he’s going.”
Detective Cooper walked over to where Jed and I were standing. “Miss. Barton, I am glad to see that you are ok. Are you feeling up to giving us your statement?”
“Sure,” I shrugged. “Do you mind if I sit down though? I’m starting to feel a bit woozy. I think all the excitement is starting to wear off.”
“Do you know what? Why don’t you let Mr. Greyson here take you home, and we can come by later for your statement.”
“Thanks Coop,” Jed said. Then all of a sudden he reached a hand under my knees and swung me into his arms. “Let’s get you out of here.”
“Jed,” I started.
“Relax. Ok. I want to carry you, and no you are not too heavy,” he said, as he started down the path.
“Ok,” I said softly, leaning my head against his chest. It felt good to hear the steady beat of his heart and feel his warm safe arms around me. This was one day, I would just as soon forget.
Waking up in my bed, I lay there and let the last couple hours run through my head. I spent several minutes thanking my wonderful Lord for protecting me and bringing Jed and Kent to my rescue.
When Kent and Jed had gotten me home, my parents had been beside themselves with worry. Mom marched me right up to my room, got me undressed and into bed with a cup of hot tea and some buttered toast, her idea of comfort food. Personally, I would have loved a big gooey, chocolaty brownie. What can I say, chocolate is my comfort food, as well as scrambled eggs with butter and grilled cheese and waffles.
I must have been more tired than I remember, because I can’t recall much after that. Jed had to have gone home. Kent! The meeting! What time is it?
Looking at my clock, I saw that it was already 4:30. I must have been asleep for a while. Kent is probably on his way by now.
Scrambling off the bed, I rushed into the bathroom to splash cold water on my face and pull on my clothes. Quickly running down the stairs, I checked in the garage for Kent’s car. It was gone.
I found my purse that someone had put on the counter and grabbed my cell phone. Quickly I sent Kent a message. ‘Be careful.’
I impatiently looked in the refrigerator for something to eat, as I waited for him to respond. Where was everyone? I stood on tiptoe and looked out the kitchen window into the backyard. Sure enough, my parents were out there gardening. They probably wanted to be quiet, so that I could sleep.
Taking out some milk and cheese, I started making myself a grilled cheese. Just as I was sliding it onto the plate, my phone beeped with a text.
‘Thnx. Can’t talk. Being watched. I’m Ok. See U in Few.’
That didn’t make me feel any better. I decided to go out and talk to my parents while I waited for Kent to get home. The waiting was going to be horrible. I am not a patient person.
Chapter 22
As soon as Kent had gotten out of his car, he had a feeling that he was being watched. Putting his phone back in his pocket after texting Nora, he looked around, scanning the Country Club. After all the years of coming here with his family, and having no idea anything like this was going on, it felt weird looking around. It was almost like seeing it in a different light. All of a sudden, the bushes surrounding the main entrance and the outside patios looked sinister. The space underneath the upper level-eating veranda seemed dark and suspicious.
Sensing movement over near the gardening shed, Kent tried to keep one eye over there and the other scanning the rest of the place for anyone that looked like they might be involved in the secret society. As far as Kent and the group knew, nobody in the society knew that Martin had been arrested and that he had given away some information.
Kent decided to sit on the bench positioned along the path, which led up to the main entrance. His instructions had said that they would contact him. They hadn’t told him where to go.
He looked at his watch; it was f
ive minutes until five o’clock. He was a few minutes early. Settling back, he watched and waited. Several people came and went, some that he knew, and others that he didn’t. They were all headed in to have dinner at the Country Club.
“Hi! Son,” an older familiar voice said, coming up the path.
Turning his head away from scanning the main steps, he saw Judge Freeman coming towards him. Jumping up from the bench, Kent stretched out his hand to his father’s old friend. “Sir, good evening.”
“What are you doing sitting out here? Are you waiting for your family to join you?” Judge Freeman said, looking behind him into the parking lot, presumably looking for the rest of Kent’s family.
“No sir, I am just waiting to meet someone. We aren’t staying for dinner.”
“Ah, a young lady I presume,” the judge said with a wink. “I will leave you to it then. Don’t want to get in the way.”
“Thank you sir. Have a good evening.”
“You too, young Barton,” he said, turning to stroll down the path to the door.
Shaking his head at the elderly judge, Kent almost jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand touch his shoulder and a voice whisper. “Count to twenty and then slowly walk toward the garden shed. Someone will be there to greet you and give you further instructions. No. Don’t turn around.”
Heart pounding, Kent slowly counted to twenty and then turned around, and started walking toward the garden shed. Whoever had tapped him on the shoulder, was nowhere in sight. Feeling a little nervous, Kent tried to look into the shed before he got there. There was not enough light from the sun shining through the door to give him an indication if anyone was in there waiting for him.
Glancing over to the clubhouse, he saw people still coming and going, and could hear the occasional laughter coming from the veranda. How many times had Kent and his family sat and ate dinner out there overlooking the gardens and the shed and not ever noticed anyone going in or out of it.
He desperately wanted to think that someone up there would notice him going in. Maybe they would worry if he didn’t come out, in case something happened to him.
Walking up the little path that led to the shed door, Kent paused a minute before walking over the threshold. Taking a deep breath, he thought, here goes nothing, and stepped inside. Immediately, a figure wearing a black robe with a big dark hood that covered their face, stepped from the dark corner. “Mr. Barton, so good of you to join us. Please come inside.”
Kent took another step inside the shed, and felt the air swish, as the door swung closed. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw another robed figure standing behind him holding a lit torch blocking the only exit.
“We have a few simple rules before we take you into the secret chamber,” the first figure said, drawing his attention from the person behind him.
“The first rule: Only speak when spoken too. You will be told all you need to know. The Order, especially the Director, does not take kindly to questions.”
Slowly nodding, Kent waited for the next rule.
“The second rule: No cell phones, recorders or cameras. That should be self explanatory.”
Again nodding, Kent tried to discreetly glance over his shoulder, to see if there were any more robed figures.
“The final rule: Everything you see and hear, must never leave the chamber. If it should, the member will be harshly and permanently dealt with.”
No need to ask what that meant, Kent thought. The missing boys were all the proof he needed. Kent started to sweat. He knew that the second he left the so-called Chamber, he would be sharing the information with not only his friends, but the Pine Hill Police Department also.
“We need your agreement. Should we get it, it will be binding for the rest of your life. Please don’t make this decision lightly.
Not a very comforting thought. Thinking of Nora and those murdered boys, he took a deep breath and nodded, “I agree.”
“Then follow me,” he said stepping away from the back wall and heading to the side of the shed that was still dark. The person behind Kent stepped forward and lit the way. As the light started moving down toward the ground, it took Kent a minute to realize that the figure holding the torch was heading down a flight of stairs.
Who knew that there were secret stairs in the garden shed? This was starting to be really weird, although a small part of Kent admitted that it was kind of cool. It had that, secret spy thing going for it. Every little boy dreams to have an underground hideout with secret doors. Kent was pretty sure he had out grown that phase. After a dozen or so steps, they turned a corner and another robed figure stood on a landing, lighting the way to what looked like another dozen steps.
At the bottom of the second set, there were huge double doors, guarded on either side by a figure wearing a thick red sash over their black robe and holding a torch. As they approached the doors, the two stepped in front of the doors crossing their torches in front of the door handles, effectively blocking the entrance.
“I need you to leave any phones, camera or recording devices that you have on this stand,” the first black robed figure said, indicating a small pillar standing to the side of the doors.
Kent hesitantly pulled out his cell phone and set it on the stand, then stood still while the guy ran a wand that detects electronic listening devices over his body.
“Anything else?” he asked.
“No,” Kent told him.
“Good.”
The guards straightened up and simultaneously each took two steps to the sides clearing the way.
Pete, Kent decided to give the guy a name. The first robed figure he saw in the shed sounded like he would be a guy named Pete.
Pete said, “Let’s go. Remember the rules.”
The guards each reached for a handle and pulled the doors open. The first thing Kent noticed was the glow from firelight dancing across the walls. While not bright, the couple dozen torches lining the walls of the large circular room gave off enough light for Kent to see. Looking around, he saw that the room was actually very large with a two-story ceiling. There appeared to be a balcony that ran around the outer walls of the second story.
From the outside walls to the very center of the room, there were a total of four levels of steps and landings leading up to a throne like chair at the top of the center landing.
There a petite figure robed in red sat on a wooden bench holding a solid looking staff. On the step below the red figure, five black robed figures with white sashes stood surrounding the “throne”.
On the next level, about a dozen figures had on black robes with red sashes. They alternated directions, every other one faced toward the center throne, while the others looked out toward the rest of the members, almost as if they were guarding something.
A couple dozen figures stood on the final level wearing black robes with yellow sashes. They too, kept their gaze on the throne.
The rest of the members, who occupied the floor as well as the balcony, wore solid black robes. All in all, there had to be about seventy-five people.
It must be some kind of ranking, Kent thought. He was a bit self conscious that he was the only one not wearing a robe and a hood. He stood out like a sore thumb. They all knew who he was, but he didn’t know who any of them were.
Thumping the staff on the ground to get everyone’s attention, although the room was already silent, the white figure, possibly the Director, they had spoken about in the shed said, “We convene the Order to welcome someone who’s family, many of you will be pleased to know, has been citizens of Pine Hill for many generations, as well as members of the Pine Hill Country Club. Please welcome, Kent Barton!”
As one, all the “members” stepped to the side with their right foot stomping it as they pounded their hearts with a right-handed fist. Then just as suddenly, they stepped back into attention. Surprised, I could feel that my mouth was hanging open. Not only because of the way they welcomed me, but because the voice of the Director sounded mechanical. Obvious
ly it was being disguised using a voice box of some sort.
“We begin with the reading of the Order’s history and mission,” the director said taking a step back and sitting down on the bench.
One of the five members with a white sash stepped forward, holding what looked like a tablet. With a loud clear voice read:
The most elite members of Pine Hill Country Club formed a secret Order. The Order’s main purpose is to ensure that all people of high society, those who are the most wealthy and influential, shall forever more achieve top academic honors and the most prominent positions in our society.
The Order shall insure that, through any means necessary, only its members carry the most elite and prestigious positions in the town of Pine Hill and neighboring communities as well as our state and nation.
Non-members, who are declared inferior, are forbidden to know anything about this mission.
The Order’s mission is to rid our society of lower class citizen’s holding positions of leadership and replace them with members of importance, Members of The Order.
So that was their goal, Kent thought. They thought of themselves as better than all the poor and middle class citizens of the community, really the country. They were willing to kill to ensure that their members got the best grades, into the best colleges and ultimately the highest positions in society.
What about Charlotte? Jed? Or Ollie and all of Kent’s other friends at school? To Kent they were no different, just because their families weren’t rich or influential.
Standing again, the Director said in the same mechanical voice, “Mr. Barton, we realize that you will have to have some time to make your decision. Let me assure you that if you accept, your bad grade in English will disappear. Not only will you get into the best school, you will also graduate at the top of your class.”
Then the Director turned in a circle hands held out high and addressed the whole Order.
Kent took the time to look closer at some of the robed people, while the Director was apparently conducting regular meeting business.
Something about the Director seemed familiar to him. He couldn’t place it. Maybe it was the mannerisms. He looked closer at each of the five people just below the director. They must be important members. They came in all shapes and sizes. Was one of them the Mayor? One of the five was a big guy. At least Kent assumed it was a man. If it wasn’t, then that was one, huge, six foot three two-hundred pound woman. It was definitely not the Mayor.
Undercover Justice Page 23
