The Traitor's Revenge (Wallis Jones Series 2016)

by Martha Carr

  “No, I smelled something, though. Road flares.” Tom gave a crooked smile. “My nose wins the day again even if I didn’t have enough sense to run in the other direction. I actually thought I could pull a Batman and throw the things clear in time. I knew the bomb had to be a slow-burner and thought there might be another minute to go.”

  “Your nose must be a little off,” said Norman, relieved his older brother was here next to him. “Did anyone call Harry yet?”

  “No, my phone took a direct hit from a Grisham first edition. I haven’t been able to get it to work.”

  Norman leaned in as if he was going to kiss the top of his brother’s head and quickly whispered, “We have to talk and soon. I found something,” before kissing the top of his head.

  Tom gave him a long look and turned toward the minister. “Good night everyone, I could use a little rest now. Father, please watch over my brother and his family here.” He shut his eyes for a moment and then opened them again, “Norman, don’t let them keep me overnight. Just come get me in a few hours. Make them let me go. I can rest just as easily at your palace as in some hospital room, okay?”

  “Okay, I’ll be there.”

  Louie leaned into the ambulance. “Just thought you would all want to know. They found a thin fire trail up to the blast point. Looks like someone made a line with toner up to a pile of road flares.”

  “You mean like copier toner?” asked Father Donald.

  “That’s right, very combustible when mixed with oxygen. Might have been from that old relic Esther still used in the back. Makes a nice explosion. Clever but very simple stuff. Picture an old western movie and a trail of gunpowder leading to the dynamite.”

  “Thanks, Louie,” said Norman.

  “Any time,” he said, walking away.

  “Come on, let’s let them do their work,” said Father Donald. “Time to go.”

  “Mazel Tov,” said Tom.

  Norman stepped back out of the van and waited by the ambulances till they began to drive away. He turned to watch them pull out onto the road and saw Richard Bach lurking on the other side of the street. Richard raised his arm and waved frantically back and forth at Norman.

  “What do you suppose that means?” asked Norman.

  “I don’t know,” said Father Donald. “I don’t know much of anything, though, these days.” He looked at Norman’s haggard expression and was worried about his old friend. “You headed home?”

  Wallis sat across from Harriet in the living room that was rarely ever used. It was Harriet’s favorite room in her daughter’s house. Wallis was trying to make small talk. She was running out of topics. Ned was up in his room working on his War Hammer collection. Wallis had quietly asked him to stay off the computer and fixed him with a look she rarely handed out. He held her gaze for a moment without expression and then nodded slowly. “Okay,” he said, “I’m going to go paint.”

  Wallis was left to sit with her mother.

  “Harriet, Norman will be home soon and he’s going to bring Tom. Do you want to stay for dinner?” Wallis knew the mention of two Weiskopfs in the house would probably make her mother find other dinner plans.

  “No, I’ve got to be going soon,” said Harriet, “I really wish you’d call me Mother.”

  “That ship sailed a while ago,” said Wallis. It was all she could do to keep herself from peppering her mother with questions.

  “You think Tom is going to be in any shape to come home that fast?” asked Harriet. Wallis startled, “You knew about the explosion?”

  “Of course I did. It’s all over the news. What, why would you think I wouldn’t know?” Harriet fixed Wallis with a stern gaze. “What’s going on?”

  “No more than the usual bombing of a Richmond bookstore,” said Wallis, feeling her anger get the better of her, “with my family in it.”

  Harriet let out a snort. “Your family. Your family only by marriage.” She stood and looked around as if she was trying to find a way to leave without looking rude.

  Wallis felt her temper flare. “My family connected by blood to my son.”

  Harriet turned her head away. “I see you’re trying to make some kind of point here. I care less than you think I do.”

  “What do you care about?” asked Wallis. “No, really, I’d like to know.”

  Harriet turned back. “You’re not usually this direct with me. What’s happened? What do you know?”

  “Answer me first.”

  Harriet hesitated and took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. She narrowed her eyes and looked at Wallis. “I see, you’ve discovered a few things, haven’t you.” She smoothed out the front of her dress and carefully sat back down. Wallis was struck once again at how carefully her mother made every move. She wondered if Harriet was always on guard against some inner, darker urge. “Well, good, it’s about time.”

  “So, it’s true?”

  “What, that your father’s family was special? I suppose so, yes. But I want to make it very clear, my side of the family was just as good,” she said, lifting her chin. “No one ever remembers that part of the story.”

  “It can’t be easy trying to measure up to some invisible standard. Never mind,” said Wallis, waving her hand before her mother could come up with a retort. “Contributed to what?”

  “Okay, Wallis. I hear the tone of voice. I know you’re a good lawyer. You think you know a thing or two and you have made a few judgments already. I can tell. Probably with Norman’s help too.” Harriet adjusted her feet in the sensible Papagallo heels and looked down at her hands, pressing her fingers into a small pile in her lap.

  Wallis looked at her mother and let some small edge of something painful and sharp sink into her skin. “You love me, don’t you,” she said. It was painful to think that someone could love her so much and be so bad at showing it. “You see me as proof of some kind of worth for you, don’t you?”

  Harriet’s posture, which was always so stiff and straight, suddenly sagged just a little. “It’s very hard to be a mother,” she said, “especially when so much is expected and from so many different quarters. I tried, you know.”

  “Tried what, exactly?”

  Harriet looked directly at Wallis, not something she normally did except when giving instructions or pointing out someone’s mistakes.

  “Tried to do what was right for everyone,” she said.

  Wallis hesitated, not sure she was ready for the answer. “What was it you were really hoping for me?” she asked.

  “I wasn’t hoping you’d take over the world, if that’s what you mean,” she spit out. Harriet looked back down. “To not be invisible to everyone around you, that’s what I wanted.” She looked up, defiant again. “And I think I did a pretty damn good job of at least that, missie.”

  Wallis could barely hold back the tears. “You are right about that, Harriet. I have never been good at sitting in the back and I suppose I’d have to say I owe that to you. Was that all?”

  Wallis felt like she was playing a game with her mother. If she just kept asking open-ended questions without judgment maybe she’d hear something new that would give her a few more answers. But if she asked Harriet a direct question or let any of her old anger or resentment seep into her tone the game would be over and Wallis would have lost her chance.

  “Isn’t that enough?” asked Harriet.

  Wallis chose her next words very carefully. “I have to know something. Is Norman or Ned in any danger? I need your help, Mother and I’m asking for you to be honest with me. Are any of us being targeted by Daddy’s people?”

  “Your father’s people are your people. You can’t escape that, and as for the rest, I don’t know,” said Harriet, “and that’s the truth. No one has really trusted me for a very long time,” she said, as she fingered the pearl choker at her throat, “as you might imagine. But I could find out.”

  “You would do that for me? For all of us?” asked Wallis, not sure if she should believe her.

  “Ther
e is a greater good, you know,” said Harriet. Wallis felt a cold chill run across her back at the thought of what that meant to anyone in Management. “However, I’ve made a few things clear over the years. Leave the child be or I’ll kill anyone with my bare hands who would dare go near you.”

  Wallis gingerly picked up her mother’s hand and held it between her own. “I always thought you were waiting for me to become something else,” she whispered.

  “I was,” said her mother. “I was trying to give you appropriate guidance and remind you of something better. However, it never really worked, did it?” Harriet pulled her hand out of Wallis’ grasp. “I’m not waiting for your forgiveness for anything, Wallis, if that’s what you think. I’ve made mistakes but I always did what I thought was right.”

  “So much for a moment,” said Wallis, standing up and backing away.

  “Why do you need one at all?” asked Harriet, sounding annoyed. “Can you not see that it’s just a distraction? Even Norman seems to know that one.”

  Wallis took in a deep breath. She wasn’t sure Harriet could really be trusted at all but she had no choice. “What do we do next?”

  “The first thing we all do is get our emotions in check and go back to some kind of routine. Everyone else is up in arms searching for some lost piece of computer equipment, I don’t know. It’s too much. That’s how mistakes are made and people get hurt. That must have something to do with that bookstore.” Harriet’s voice rose into a high-pitched whine.

  Wallis tried to hide her surprise. She could feel her anxiety rising and wondered if Harriet was setting her up. “What kind of equipment?”

  “I told you, computer. I overheard that nasty man, Richard, say they had to get it back.”

  “Where did you see Richard?”

  “At a meeting, of course,” said her mother.

  So that’s how it is, thought Wallis.

  “They think someone named Robert has it on him. Do you know him?” asked Harriet.

  “I know a few Roberts, Harriet, but I wouldn’t know which one to offer up as sacrifice. I’ll need a little more before I set the dogs loose on someone.”

  “Well, I see you’re back to some version of yourself already,” said Harriet, harshly. “Don’t be ugly, Wallis. I raised you better than that. Go find Norman, I’m sure he’s fine. I will see to a few things in the meantime. Not to worry, there are a few advantages to everyone wanting to avoid me.”

  “Where do your loyalties lie, Mother?” The question had slipped out before Wallis could stop herself.

  Harriet drew her mouth into a thin line. “I suppose the same place as yours, with my family.”

  Wallis saw her mother to the door and pressed the door firmly shut, carefully locking up behind Harriet.

  They may not know I have the drive, thought Wallis, feeling relief for just a moment. Then they can’t know that I realize what they’re really up to either. Poor Robert, whoever you are. Please, Norman, tell Father Donald, thought Wallis. Her phone buzzed and she pulled it out to look at the text. It was Sharon wanting to know if Paul could spend the night with Ned. She wanted to say no, but it was a small piece of normalcy, thought Wallis, in the middle of all of this insanity. She quickly answered, ‘Sure, you can drop him off anytime.’ She thought about the image of David yelling at her office and shuddered.

  “David was crazy before I knew what was going on and so I can’t say that changes anything,” she mumbled. “Now, I’m talking to myself, great.”

  “Hey, Mom, who was that?” asked Ned.

  Wallis startled and tried to smile.

  “Why do I have the feeling you already know who that was?”

  Ned cocked his head to one side and arched an eyebrow.

  “That makes you look like me,” she said. Ned gave a small, begrudging smile before he said, “Well?”

  “It was Paul’s mom and yes, he’s on his way over here for the night.”

  “Yes,” said Ned, pumping his arm in the air. He danced around the kitchen stopping at Wallis and grabbing her by the arms. “Pizza?”

  “Absolutely,” she said and squeezed her son as he tried to wriggle free. He pulled away just as she tapped him on the arm.

  “Got you last,” she said, laughing. Ned smiled at her and lunged forward tapping her lightly before running for the stairs. “Got you last,” he yelled, his laughter trailing behind him.

  Wallis shut her eyes and thought of the last time they were all happy, even if it was based on lies. “Make it real, make it real,” she said, as she started to cry.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I need you to go to Williamsburg,” said Oscar, “and take care of a little something for me,” Oscar sucked in a wad of spit loudly and shot a warm, thick stream just past Parrish’ leg.

  “I don’t take orders from you,” said Parrish, looking bored, “just bets.” He looked down at his pants to make sure none of the backwash had hit his leg. It mattered to him to always look impeccable.

  “I’ll pay you,” said Oscar, his hand resting on his holster. “It’s a private job.”

  Parrish raised his eyes and looked at Oscar. “You in trouble?” he asked, casually.

  “Nothing that can’t be fixed,” said Oscar. “I’d do it myself but this is your particular expertise.”

  Parrish gave a good long look at the new red scar on Oscar’s face. “And you haven’t exactly fared well at your job lately, have you?” he asked in a mocking tone.

  “You want the job or not?” said Oscar, getting angry.

  Parrish let out a deep sigh. “I’ll do it, but it’ll cost you. I’m getting a little tired of cleaning up after you lately, dude. But I know if I don’t there’s only going to be more of the tight-lipped whiny-sort like Robin Spingler messing in my business. Can’t have that.”

  “Best not say that too loudly,” said Oscar, looking around to see if anyone could hear them. “She does not take well to criticism.”

  “What kind of mess is this one?”

  “It’s all related,” said Oscar, “to the Ray problem. I need you to find Alice Watkins, his old coworker and make sure she doesn’t have something that we need to get back. A thumb drive.”

  “What’s on this precious drive? This is the second woman you’ve had me run down.”

  “Never you mind, Parrish. If you find it you just bring it back here, y’hear?” Oscar tapped his badge hanging at his belt.

  Parrish snorted in contempt. “Yeah, that means something,” he said.

  “You listen here,” said Oscar, “I made sure no one found out about your little side business quietly robbing lonely women who are later conveniently found dead, you son of a bitch. You think that was easy to cover up?”

  “You were more than happy to cover it all up once I explained to you that I could make sure you got charged right alongside me,” laughed Parrish.

  “I didn’t lose the damn drive in the first place. Those morons in Richmond couldn’t keep their hands on it but somehow it’s all boiling down to me to put everything to rights, again.” Oscar mopped his forehead with a handkerchief.

  “You sweating in the middle of a cold snap? You must be worried. Alright, I’ll do it, after I have my money and not before. But you better get a grip white boy. Why do you think this Alice has your precious thumb drive?”

  “I don’t but I need to cover my bases. Besides, I know she saw something in the accounting files at the city when she worked there with Billings. She knows about the money we’ve been passing through receivables. If Richard ever finds out about that you and I are both dead. Even you won’t be able to get ahead of that one. Robin Spingler will call in outside help.”

  “You stupid, fat waste of my time,” said Parrish, choking out each word in anger. “I knew better than to get involved with you in the first place.”

  “Right, because you had so much going for you in that run-down apartment where I found your poor, sorry self. You have a little problem, Parrish, with keeping your hands from around
old ladies’ throats.” Oscar kept his hand near his gun. Parrish saw how nervous Oscar was getting and grinned. He wanted to keep their other arrangement going just as much as Oscar.

  “Where do I find this Alice Watkins and what is it that I need to find out?”

  “We don’t need to know anything from her,” said Oscar. “I just want her to go away forever and without anyone else finding out.”

  “That I can do,” said Parrish, “soon as you pay me, in cash.” He held out his hand and smiled.

  Parrish waited outside of Colonial Power and Lighting down by the Warwick Marina in Williamsburg, Virginia. He had been patiently biding his time till he saw Alice.

  Alice Watkins lumbered out of the back door and walked toward her car. She looked like she was lost in thought, balancing several bags and a large purse in her arms.

  Parrish sat back and waited for her to get settled into her car. He was in no hurry.

  He had been watching Alice’s movements for a few days and knew she was always one of the last employees to leave on Thursday nights and would soon be all alone.

  He could hear her trying to start her old car. However, he had already made sure that there would be plenty of noise but the engine would never turn over and catch. He watched as she put her head down for a moment on the steering wheel before looking up and digging her phone out of her purse.

  Someone came out of the building after Alice and went over to her showing concern and asking something but Alice always shook her head firmly, no, and didn’t even watch as they reluctantly left her sitting there in her front seat with the car door open.

  Parrish made a careful notation of how many people had already left till he was certain that there was no one else. He had been paid well by Oscar to clean up the rest of this mess and find out what had happened to the missing information before it fell into the wrong hands.

  Parrish’ reasons were a little more self-serving. At the very least, he wanted to stop her from telling anyone about the little side business they were running through the city books by way of the utility department. It was too much money to just walk away. Alice needed to go.