The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20

by Jacqueline Druga

  “Yeah,” Frank answered. “Anyhow, between Robbie and myself, all twenty four hours will be covered as far as running Security goes. You know, tracking checks, perimeter checks.”

  “You’ve moved us to Level Four Security. That’s pretty high.”

  “Better four than two and not see it coming.” Frank said, “or be prepared.”

  Joe looked at the figures before him. “That’s a lot of manpower, Frank. Can we afford it?”

  “Can we afford not to? No. If we have the coverage, our people feel safe. If our people don’t feel safe, I’m not doing my job. I hate not doing my job.”

  “What about our access road to Bowman? Is it still safe?”

  “Yep,” Frank nodded. “Our road and Danny’s tracking did not fail us. We were out smarted, out smarted by fuckin Savages. It won’t happen again. When Danny gets back, he’ll adjust that hillside tracking to pick up Savages. The perimeter beams on the road make it safe. That’s why I don’t think they took the road.”

  “They watched us,” Jason commented.

  “He speaks,” Joe pointed. “I thought you fell asleep.”

  “I did for about thirty seconds. I just have a lot on my mind,” Jason said. “I was merely commenting that they had to have watched us to know those beams were in place on the road. How else would they know our vulnerable spots?”

  Robbie, who had also been silent, spoke up. “Our vulnerable spots will slowly not be vulnerable anymore. It’s a shame we have to wait until they are hit before we know they’re vulnerable.”

  Joe slowly spun his views to Robbie. “My God, aren’t you becoming the literary speaking guy?”

  Jason looked up. “That’s because he’s the author of the new bestselling novel of Beginnings.”

  Robbie immediately turned pale and cringed in his chair.

  Frank chuckled. “Well he’s gonna have to wait in line behind that other bestselling author . . .” He walked to Joe’s desk and dropped the remainder of his notes. “Yeah, I can’t wait until my turn to read it. Letters Afar: The Bobby and Helen Story. Now that’s the makings of a best seller. Maybe you could learn from it, Robbie.” Frank moved to the door. “I have rounds. I’ll check back later.”

  When the door closed, Robbie slid in his chair, closed his eyes, and let out a silent sigh of relief.

  Joe waved a pen at Robbie. “You are lucky that the everyday, common sense portion of your brother’s brain is permanently mentally disabled.”

  “Dad, I . . .”

  “I don’t want to hear it.” Joe stood up. “I don’t want to know. I’m gonna play dumb like Frank. I want no part of that book.”

  Robbie smiled. “So you aren’t gonna read it?”

  “Nope.” Joe walked to the door. “Jason, let’s go finish up in Distribution and call it a day.”

  “Calling it a day sounds good to me.” Jason followed.

  “Dad.” Robbie nervously stood up. “Really, it isn’t that bad. It isn’t. Since you’re not reading it, I don’t want you to think it is.”

  “Oh I don’t know about that, Robert.” Joe opened the door. “I have to tell you, after reading that little sample, you’ve already given me a whole new meaning behind the phrase, ‘just hanging out in your boxer shorts’.” Joe smiled. “Bye, son.”

  With a close of the door and a close of his eyes, Robbie let out an ‘oh God’ and plopped back down in the chair.

  ^^^^

  Walking out of the cryo-lab tunnels, Ellen still felt the flutter in her stomach. Thinking back, the feeling she had when she listened to the tape was still so strong with her. That tiny tape, like every other bit of evidence she came across, was tucked in its first home, her lab coat pocket. From there it would go to her drawer.

  Emerging from the tunnels, Ellen couldn’t believe how much the day had changed so quickly. In the short time span she was in the cryo-lab, the sky had become gray and dismal. It happened so quickly. It was so dark . . . so much like her life. A light drizzle of rain fell upon her. It was cold, almost freezing, a mist that chilled her to her bones. She kept her pace steady, despite the fact she was getting wet. She wasn’t in any hurry to face the music.

  To Johnny Slagel he felt like he was in a movie. In the waiting room looking for that Old Sports Illustrated to read while waiting on results, the climax unfolded. With a large roaring crack of thunder he saw a wet Ellen enter the clinic. She held her folder and, even better to Johnny, a look of despair. He sneaked to the door of the waiting room and watched her go into the lab. He clenched his fist in excitement and followed.

  “Oh my God,” Dean exclaimed, stumbling off his stool in the lab as he attempted to stand. “My wife.” He grinned and moved to her. “El, you are soaking wet.”

  “It’s, um, raining.” She wiped the back of her hand across her face.

  With his hands on Ellen’s shoulders, Dean looked into her eyes. He stared for a long time. “Something is so wrong, isn’t it?”

  Ellen could only nod.

  “You’ve been avoiding me.”

  “Yes.” Ellen swallowed.

  “I see.” Dean nodded slowly. “I . . . I was worried you know.” He stepped back. “And I went through it in my mind.”

  “Dean.”

  “Let me finish.”

  “I’ve been here before with you.” Dean looked up at her. “The pulling back, the not wanting me to touch you . . .”

  “Dean.”

  “Who is it, El?” Dean asked. “I can handle it. I know it’s not Frank.”

  “You think . . . you think I’m with someone else?”

  “Yes.”

  Ellen shook her head and let out an emotional chuckle.

  “I think it’s someone from New Bowman. Hal or Sgt Ryder. I . . . ”

  “It’s not them. It’s . . . it’s Bev.” Ellen laid the folder on the counter.

  “You’re not involved or interested in someone else?”

  “No. My God, Dean, I love you.”

  “El.” Dean smiled. “I thought . . . never mind what I thought. It’s Bev. Bev? Oh, El, I understand why you’re upset about this, but . . .”

  “Dean. Stop.” Ellen held up her hand. “Let me say what I have to say.”

  “All right,” Dean listened.

  “Things have been happening. I’ve been getting little bits of information I won’t get into, but this information doesn’t work in your favor. Like the hysterectomy she knew about but wasn’t supposed to. Things like that.”

  “El, there’s explanations for that.”

  “Yes, I know,” Ellen nodded. “But I want this over with. I want this Bev thing behind us. Every single hour it gets worse and worse for me. Dealing with it. You’re my husband and my love for you tells me to believe in you.”

  “Thank you for that.”

  “But, the human side of me, it couldn’t take it. I . . .” Ellen reached out and laid her hand on the folder. “I did an amniocentesis today on Bev.”

  “You . . . you what!” Dean’s emotional words conveyed his shock.

  “I did an amnio . . .”

  “Oh my God, El.”

  “And I have the results right . . .”

  “You had no right!” Dean yelled.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. You had no right. How . . . how can you doubt me? And this, going behind my back, doing the amnio, running tests . . .”

  “Stop it.”

  “No, you stop it, El.” Dean pointed “I have never done anything to make you think I would cheat on you. Never. What the hell? I of all people don’t deserve this.”

  Ellen looked away. “I have the results.” She picked up the folder.

  “I don’t care.”

  “You don’t care?”

  “I don’t care!” Dean yelled.

  “You don’t want to know what it says?”

  “I don’t need to know what this . . .” His hand flung out and hit against the folder she held “. . . says. I never slept with Bev. Test or no te
st, that baby is not mine!”

  Ellen turned and began to walk from the lab. She brushed past Johnny in the hall.

  “El.” Dean raced to her. “Stop.”

  Ellen did. “What?”

  “Where are you going? We’re not done.”

  “I believe we are, Dean. When you calm down and you are ready to discuss this,” she showed the folder, “find me. Until then, I’m not going to stand before you and get yelled at. I won’t.”

  “You have to understand where I’m coming from.”

  “And you have to understand where I’m coming from. Calm down. When you do, find me.” Ellen turned around.

  “El.”

  “Don’t follow me.” She walked faster down the corridor with the folder in her hand.

  Dean grunted and tossed his hands up. After running his fingers through his hair, he spun around and went back into the lab. Johnny was standing there. Dean plopped down with a slam of his hand to the counter.

  “Dr. Dean.”

  “Not now.”

  “Yes, now.” Johnny put on the nervous front. “I couldn’t help but hear the yelling and what it was about.”

  “Swell.”

  “I know you’re upset. But . . . why?” Johnny waited for Dean’s eyes to rise up. “She says she has results. Whose field is DNA? Who studied it their whole life? I may be out of line and . . . God,” Johnny exhaled. “El’s gonna kill me but the sample is in the fridge. If anyone is gonna run those DNA tests and run them accurately, shouldn’t it be you?”

  Dean closed his eyes and nodded. “Thank you Johnny. Thank you. You are so right.”

  Johnny moved out of the way as Dean hurried to the refrigerator. As Dean reached in and sought out the obvious sample. Behind Dean’s back, Johnny smiled.

  ^^^^

  “Oh!” Andrea gasped so motherly. She held a small towel in her hand. “Oh, look at you.” She raised up the towel to Robbie and, holding his chin, she began to wipe off his face. “You’re soaking wet. That’s freezing rain. You are gonna catch the death of cold.”

  “It’s awful.”

  “You poor boy. Did you get any sleep yet?”

  “No,” Robbie complained. “My Dad has me busy. And . . . I don’t even have time to change these wet clothes.”

  “Oh, Joe Slagel will hear about this. You poor thing.” Andrea tossed down the towel and stepped back. “So what brings you to the Clinic?” She raised her voice to a singing one. “I bet it has to do with tonight.”

  “Hey, that’s pretty good. It does.” Robbie grinned.

  “You know I can’t tell you.” Andrea smiled in return.

  “Tell me what?”

  “About tonight.”

  “Are we talking about the same thing?” Robbie asked.

  “I believe so. The church gathering?”

  “Um, no.” Robbie shook his head. “I came here because, you know, you’re my and Frank’s favorite stepmother ever.”

  “Ah, how sweet.” She reached up and touched his cheek.

  “And you know, Andrea, it’s cold. It’s really cold out there and we have to work all night.”

  Andrea swayed her head. “The pressure of keeping us safe.”

  “So like, we were brotherly wondering if we could, for this really, really, really cold wet night . . . get you to make us some soup?”

  “Sweet Jesus, Robbie, you know I take care of you boys. Would you like a big thermos of my coffee as well?”

  “If it’s not a problem,” Robbie said innocently.

  “I was going to make brownies as well.”

  “Andrea if you would . . . if you could toss a couple brownies in there, we’d be praising you.”

  Andrea blushed and tossed out her hand. “Don’t you worry about this watch. Your tummies will be filled.”

  “Thank you.”

  “So this means you’re coming to the gathering? It’s before your watch. You have to be there. You really have to be there.”

  “I, uh . . . I don’t know.” Robbie scratched his head. “I didn’t know about a gathering.”

  “I sent a memo to the Security Office.”

  Robbie fluttered his lips and laughed. “There you have it. Never send a memo to Security. I never go to Frank’s office to read his bulletin board.”

  “Can you come? Seven? We’re introducing the new pastor of the church.”

  “Oh.” Robbie nodded. “Um, sure, why not. I’ll be there for you. After all, you’re making us soup.”

  Andrea tapped him on the cheek. “Can you get Frank there as well?”

  “Frank in church?” Robbie laughed. “No, but . . . I’ll be there.” Robbie pointed. “I’d better go. I want to catch some sleep.”

  “You do that. See you tonight.”

  Robbie, with a raised hand wave, turned and walked from Andrea’s office. He wasn’t much of a church person. He had his fill while investigating Rev. Bob and he was deemed ministry assistant. But for Andrea’s soup and brownies, church was a small price to pay.

  ^^^^

  “Ha!” Dean shrieked loudly as he jumped from his stool in the lab. He grinned widely and with a stiff index finger he pressed the print button for his results.

  “Good?” Johnny asked.

  “Great.” Dean stood before the printer. “Boy, was I stupid. El had to come up with these. She had to. Here . . . here I’m thinking she’s trying to railroad me, when all my poor wife was trying to do was . . .” Dean grabbed the printed results. “Help me.” He rolled them up and hurried across the lab. “I have to find her.” His tennis shoes squeaked when he made his sudden stop at the door. “Oh, Johnny, thanks again. I won’t tell her you told me.”

  With a wink and a click of his tongue, Johnny pointed at Dean. When Dean was gone, Johnny had to contain his laughter. He walked over to the fridge and opened it. His face turned red as he held in his laughing. He reached for Bev’s sample and held it up. “Better get rid of you before Ellen comes back. Huh?” He snickered, reached into his lab coat pocket, and pulled out an identical tube with an identical label. Johnny held it up next to the one he took from the fridge. He looked at them both. The sample he pulled from his coat had just a smidgen more. Johnny knew the amount wasn’t what was important. It was the results the sample would read. After all, who was going to notice a drop more of amniotic fluid when Ellen didn’t even notice the slight difference in cloudiness. And she was the one that took the ‘real’ Bev sample. He placed the sample from his coat in the refrigerator rack and the sample he removed from the refrigerator, Johnny took to the sink. “As for you.” He removed the cap. “Never to be seen or tested again.” He poured it down the drain, smiling the entire time.

  ^^^^

  Deep in a conversation with Elliott, the test result folder right by her side, Ellen heard the squeak of Dean’s tennis shoes before she saw him. From her view of Elliott in the bed, she turned her head to the door.

  Dean walked in with a rolled up paper in his hands. “El.” He tried to hide his smile. “Can we . . . can we talk? Please?”

  “I don’t think it’s a good . . .”

  “Please.” Dean stepped to her. “I owe you an apology for acting the way I did. You were completely right in what you did. My reaction was wrong.” Dean stared at her, waiting.

  “Elliott.” Ellen looked at him and snatched up her folders. “I’ll, uh, be back later.”

  Dean took Ellen’s arm and walked with her from the room. He looked back at Elliott. “Thanks Sgt. Ryder, she won’t be long.”

  “Dean . . .”

  “Not yet.” He walked with around the bend her and took her to Andrea’s office. “In here.”

  “O.K., sure.” Ellen followed him in.

  Dean closed the door, smiled, walked to Ellen, and kissed her. “Thank you.”

  “Dean.” Ellen shook her head and stepped back from him. “Why are you thanking me?”

  “For ending this. I was pissed. Don’t get me wrong, but after I thought about it, I realized you we
ren’t trying to condemn me. You were just trying to put it all behind us.”

  “I was.”

  “And I’m sorry.” Dean tried to kiss her but Ellen pulled back. “I’m sorry. Can we not fight? Please.”

  “Dean, we need to talk about this.”

  “Yes. Yes we do. My reaction was way out of line. But, hey, at least we won’t have Bev in between us anymore, right?” Dean smiled. “Right?”

  Ellen didn’t answer.

  “El?”

  “Dean, she is gonna be there. Big time.”

  “She’s a little trouble maker. If you’re worried about an affair that she says we had, the lie about the baby should show you she’s lying about the affair.”

  Ellen’s heart skipped a hard beat. “Lying? I have to question who the one who’s lying?”

  “Not me.”

  “Dean . . .”

  “El, really.” He laughed and handed her the rolled up piece of paper. “The baby is not mine. How can I be the one lying? It’s not even close to being mine.” He watched Ellen read the results. “You aren’t smiling. I thought you’d smile. You were trying to tell me you got the same results, right?”

  “No.”

  The smile dropped from Dean’s face. “No? You . . . you didn’t get the same results?”

  “No, Dean, I didn’t.” She handed it back to him.

  “Then you made a mistake.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “The results you got were wrong,” Dean said.

  “I doubt it.”

  “El.” Dean sort of snickered. “You were tired. You had a bad experience with Savages. You ran the tests emotionally. It’s understandable. You messed up somewhere. But, hon, I hate to say it.” Dean closed one eye and tilted his head. “But I’m the expert here. My results say that baby is not mine.”

  “How convenient, don’t you think?”

  “What?” Dean was lost.

  “That your results are the ones that say the baby isn’t yours. Your results. What do you take me for, a fool? Did you think I’d buy that tired, bad experience, emotional line? That I messed up? That you’re the expert?”