The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20

by Jacqueline Druga

  ^^^^

  Danny Hoi’s heart raced. One hand laid upon his chest as his other still trembled on the switch that cut any and all phone lines in New Bowman. How long did it take him to recognize the signal and end transmission? It didn’t matter. Any delay was too long. But before informing Joe, Danny took a second to calm down.

  “I’m sorry, Joe,” Danny repeated with sincerity. “God, I am so sorry. I didn’t think my Danny Dollar Card . . .”

  “Danny.” Joe halted him. “It’s fine. Now . . . how long do you think this person broke through?”

  “I pulled readout. Twenty-two seconds and I caught it. I should have caught it sooner, I don’t know. No, I was working . . .”

  “Danny?” Joe snapped. “Stop. You got it. Had you not been there, who knows how long it would have happened. All right. We’ll deal with this issue after the proceedings today. There’s really nothing we can do about it right now. I have some things I have to take care of before I head out. I need you to work on seeing if you can pinpoint the location in New Bowman it came from then head out to the new camp. Talk to Sgt. Doyle. See if he knows if George is aware of his daughter’s passing and see if he knows of any insiders in Beginnings.”

  “But I’m supposed to be in New Bowman today,” Danny said. “The suspect thing.”

  “Well. I don’t think that will be necessary. You can say, after today, it will be over.”

  Slowly Danny looked at Joe. “You’ve figured it out.”

  “You can say . . . it’s over.” Joe nodded.

  “O.K., what do you want me to do if Sgt. Doyle names someone?” Danny questioned as Joe started walking away.

  “Take authority, Danny. You’re on Council. You’re the man in my absence.”

  “I’m the man.” Danny turned his own way to make immediate arrangements to head to the new camp.

  ^^^^

  Bon fires blazed to help warm up the frigid December air, but somehow Danny didn’t think the former Society soldiers needed the heat. They worked diligently putting together their barracks. Hammer pounded, drills and saws rang out. Every man seemed busy.

  He led the way into a tent where rows of bunks were set up and Sgt. Doyle followed him in.

  He wore a heavy flannel shirt, jeans, and a backwards baseball cap on his head which he took off immediately upon entering the tent. “You wanted to see me?” Sgt. Doyle asked Danny.

  “Yeah. Sit down, please.” Danny motioned his hand to a bunk and sat down on one himself.

  “What can I do for you?”

  “Danny Hoi. We haven’t met.” He extended his hand. “I’m on Council in Beginnings.”

  “I heard your name from Mr. Slagel. Very nice to meet you. Tim Doyle.”

  “Tim. I have a question. This defection . . . you say it’s on the up and up, right?”

  “Yes,” Sgt. Doyle nodded.

  “How close were you to the operations in the Society?”

  “I attended many meetings. I like to think I’m well informed.”

  “Did you know George’s daughter was here?”

  “Yes. I hope I am not in any trouble for not divulging this sooner. I thought perhaps when the dust of defection settled . . .” He stopped speaking when Danny raised his hand.

  “We were gonna ask then. Yes,” Danny said. “Does George know his daughter’s dead?”

  “To my knowledge, he does not,” Sgt. Doyle answered. “So she was found out and executed?”

  “Somewhat. I’ll fill in the details at another time.” Danny continued, “Anyone else you know of?”

  “Yes. I know of at least two others, but just one name. The other identity I wasn’t privileged to.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. But the man I know may or may not be relaying any information. He’s supposed to just be watching.”

  “Excellent.” Danny smiled. “You can give me a name?”

  “Yes, sir. Without hesitation.” Sgt. Doyle replied.

  Danny was ready.

  ^^^^

  Authority. Authority. Danny remembered that when he walked strong with two of Frank’s Security men on each side of him. There was no reason to wait for Joe and no reason to even take the slightest chance of not dealing with things right away. He had the name. He needed to secure the situation.

  Danny marched through the doors of the clinic. The three men were in a line, their footsteps in synch as they moved down the corridor and stopped at the lab.

  “Johnny,” Danny called his name.

  Slowly Johnny turned from the counter and looked. He gave a quirky smile when he saw the two Security men and Danny. “What’s going on?”

  “It seems the new defector gave us a name today.”

  “A . . . a name?” Johnny asked.

  “Yeah, so since no one is around, I need to inform someone and you’re it. We will be posting these two men at the door of Jess Boyens’ room. No visitors are permitted until your grandfather has reviewed the situation. O.K.?” Danny asked.

  “I’ll pass it around.”

  “Thanks.” Danny backed away.

  After Danny had left, Johnny released the breath he held, and then he laughed.

  ^^^^

  Every suspect, with the exception of Danny Hoi, sat in the small courtroom. They were silent. Half on one side and half on the other, they a faced forward looking at Joe and Grace who sat behind a long table at the front of the courtroom. Frank, with his hands folded, sat in a chair off to the side.

  Joe waded helpless through the silence and tried to think of the exact thing he was going to say, or rather introduce. His eyes moved about. Jenny sat with Hector and Henry on the right. Trish sat with Josephine directly behind them. Dean and Ellen sat closer to the front on the other side. Elliott, Robbie, and Hal were a row behind them.

  Hal.

  Joe couldn’t stop looking at his son. The usual arrogance and pride was all over Hal’s face and Joe couldn’t figure out why. Where was the guilt? The solace? Remorse? Was there even a little?

  It was time to start.

  After a look at Grace, Joe stood up. “I think you all know why you’re here. The ballots have been counted. The punishment has been determined. It seems, depending on the circumstances of the crime, our . . . killer, the person responsible for Bev’s death, will be removed from Beginnings for a disclosed amount of time. They may return after the sentence, but they return afresh and have to start all over. They lose all authority and ranking. It is . . . .” Joe paused. “It is my hope that this thing ends today and the sentence is officially handed down.” Joe shrugged. “I want it to be over for all of you and I believe that will happen.” Slowly, Joe lowered to his seat.

  The nervous tapping of Frank’s boots against the linoleum carried out like a metronome. He folded his hands in prayer like fashion and brought them to his face. His fingers pressed deep to the corners of his eyes. He didn’t have to look. He felt it and lost his breath when Hal stood up.

  A unison of confusion sounds rang out when Hal stepped to the aisle.

  Click . . . click . . . click. The steady stride of his boots hit on the floor as he walked center and stopped. “Dad. Grace.” He turned and looked to the others. “First and foremost, I must deliver my apologies to you all for the waste of your time and for the stress my deception has placed upon you.” He pivoted back around and faced Joe. “It’s over.”

  Robbie’s eyes grew wide. “What! No!”

  “Robert,” Joe warned in a soft voice.

  Elliott couldn’t catch his breath. “What is he doing? No.”

  Hal continued, “I’m the guilty one.” He pulled the revolver from his inside coat pocket. He walked up and laid it on the table before Joe and Grace. “There you have the murder weapon. I expect my sentence now.”

  “No!” Robbie stood up, shouting.

  “Robert!” Joe slammed his hand.

  “No, Dad,” Robbie argued. “He stole that gun from me!”

  “What?” Joe questioned.
<
br />   Hal spun around. “Robbie, sit down.”

  “I won’t. I won’t.” Robbie shook his head emotionally. “This is bullshit. I had that gun. You took it. What are you doing, Hal? Huh? Look at all that you built and you want to give it up as some sort of chivalrous cover up? I won’t let you. I won’t!”

  Frank’s head was still down and he rolled his fingers in gratefulness.

  “Robert,” Joe spoke sternly. “What are you doing?”

  “He’s covering for someone, Dad. Hal didn’t kill Bev . . . I did.”

  ‘Fuck!’ Frank screamed in his mind. ‘What is going on with my brothers?’

  “Robbie,” Joe stated, “sit down. It’s not gonna work. Only six men wear a red bandana in Bowman. I have one of them with Bev’s blood on it.”

  Elliott stood up. “That’s because it is mine.”

  A loud eruption of question broke out in the court.

  Elliott spoke. “The Captain is covering for me because of my illness. I am the one who killed Bev.”

  Hal bit his bottom lip and spun around with a point. “Sgt. Ryder, I order you to sit down right now and retract that.”

  “I will not,” Elliott refused. “I won’t let you go down for this.”

  “Neither will I.” Dean stood up. “That bandana is not evidence at all. Bev’s blood? Yeah, probably. For some obscure reason, Hal came to me and asked for a tube of Bev’s blood. He believed there was another insider in Beginnings and he wanted to set this person up. He set himself up in the process.”

  Hal began to lose his cool. “Goddamn it, people. Can I not confess?”

  “No!” Robbie shouted. “I did it.”

  Jenny Matoose stood up. “Stop the madness. Stop it. Robbie, your brother is covering for me. I am the one who killed Bev. He’s covering out of our love.”

  Hal winced.

  After looking at Hector, Henry stood up. “I’m as guilty as Jenny and everyone else. I killed her too.”

  “Me too.” Hector stood.

  “Count me in.” Trish stood up.

  Josephine, with a hiccup and a sway, stood. “All of you knock it off. I killed her, Joey, I killed the little bitch.”

  The vocal blasting of Joe was thunderous and roaring when he stood up. “Enough!” His arm pointed out heavily. “All of you sit down! Now! Even you Hal. Sit!” Joe waited until everyone sat down. “What the hell do you people think this is? A goddamn three ring circus? This is no joke. This . . . this is murder. I don’t know what the hell is going on and who is really covering for who, but I won’t stand for it. There is a hall outside this room. Ten minutes. Ten!” Joe yelled. “Get out in that hall like the children you are acting like and sit there for ten minutes. When I open that door back up, I better have the real killer come forward. You hear me!” His face turned red as he yelled. “You have wasted enough goddamn time of mine and the community. There are other pressing matters that deserve full attention. Now this will end. It will end! And if I don’t get a confession, if I have to find out the real killer, I swear to Almighty God, I’ll toss out the mother fuckin ballots and kick the murderer out for good! Now, out!” He kept his point. “Out!”

  As everyone stood to walk out, Joe sat back down.

  “Shh.” Grace patted him on the back. “Calm down. Take some breaths, Joe.” she whispered. “I hear Danny Hoi offers a wonderful anger management class.”

  Joe only shifted his eyes.

  “Maybe not.”

  The door to the courtroom closed and rang out in the silent room.

  Scared and trembling, the voice spoke up. “Joe.”

  Joe raised his head. “Ellen, get the hell out in that hall.”

  “No.” She shook her head and stepped forward. She spoke weakly, her words showing the sign of her holding back tears. “No.”

  Frank’s eyes widened and enraged and he stood up. “Ellen, get the hell out of here. Now!”

  “No!” she screamed emotionally. “No. It has to stop. It has to. Joe . . .” Her words whimpered out. “Joe, I have to say it. I’m the one who killed . . .”

  “Ellen,” Frank graveled her name.

  The door to the court room opened and closed. Dean ran in with a rush. “Ellen, no. Please. No.” He ran to her, wrapped his arms around her from behind and pulled her back. “Whatever she said. Joe, don’t listen. It’s not an act of chivalry. I won’t let her take the fall. I killed Bev.”

  Ellen spun from his hold violently. “Stop it. Stop it.” She grabbed her head.

  From his gut, face red, and every emotion in his voice, Dean raged. “You promised me, Ellen. You promised me you wouldn’t do this. You promised me!”

  “I can’t go on like this! I can’t!” she screamed

  He didn’t need to scream. Joe’s one word brought silence. “Stop.” He looked at a standing Frank. “For the last time, I will ask you. I know you saw it. Frank . . . who killed Bev?”

  Frank swallowed. His eyes shifted from Dean to Ellen and after locking in a telepathic stare for a moment with Dean, he refaced his father.

  “Frank?” Joe questioned. “Did you see the shooter that night?”

  “Yes,” Frank answered.

  “Who was it?”

  Frank whispered with a cracking voice. “I’m sorry . . . it was Dean.”

  Dean’s head dropped in relief.

  Joe nodded and sat back down. “That will be all, Ellen. Wait in the hall while I speak to Dean.”

  Dean wouldn’t look at her. Ellen brought her face close to his and whispered. “What are you doing?”

  “I love you. That’s what I’m doing.”

  A single sob escaped Ellen.

  “We both …” Dean’s voice was so whispering. “Love you that much.”

  “Ellen,” Joe said. “Please leave,”

  Ellen took a long sniffle through her nose, moved forward a step, stopped, and rushed to the front table. “What happened to the note?” she asked rapidly.

  Joe’s attention was caught. “What?”

  “The letter. It wasn’t mentioned. The letter Bev was writing when . . .”

  “El!” Frank shouted.

  “No!” Ellen’s hand slammed to the table. “Enough. What happened to the note, Joe? The one Bev was writing when she was killed. If Dean was the one, ask him what was in that note!” Ellen pointed backwards. “Ask him.”

  Joe looked to Dean. “Tell me.”

  Dean’s views went to Frank for answers.

  “He can’t,” Ellen said, “but I can. Bev was writing about another insider in Beginnings. She almost wrote the name.”

  Defeat. Dean felt total defeat. Emotionally drained and in shock, he reached for a chair and all but fell into it.

  Frank slowly sat back down.

  Ellen tried to keep it together, but the look on Joe’s face broke her heart. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  “What happened?” Joe asked.

  Ellen’s eyes closed and the memory rushed forward . . .

  Another phone call, another taunting, but that last call contained a comment about Andrea and how Ellen couldn’t trust anyone. Poor Andrea. Bev Hadley hadn’t a clue that everyone was on to her. Everyone knew. To Ellen, the comment about Andrea only sent off warning signals. She waited. Dean was asleep. The kids were tucked away so she left her home.

  The streets of Beginnings were quiet. Ellen didn’t even pass a guard. It was so easy to do what she had planned. She only wished she would have thought it through one hundred percent.

  She sat on the edge of her bed, getting undressed for bed. Ellen peeked through the crack of the bedroom door watching Bev brush her short hair. Her hand trembled as she held the revolver, staring at it with such debate. With her nerve up, Ellen walked in.

  “Bev.”

  Bev screamed.

  “Shut up!” Ellen pointed.

  “What . . . what . . .”

  ‘Who? Who is the question?” Ellen walked closer to her.

  “What are you talking about?”
<
br />   “I know you know who else in Beginnings is working for George.”

  Bev laughed. “Right. And I’m telling.”

  “You’ll be dead. Bev . . . Hadley is it?”

  “Oh, my God.”

  “We know. We all know. The game’s over. See, tomorrow morning my father will deal with you and kick you out. But, I’m gonna give you a chance to . . . escape. I’ll even help you.”

  “What?” Bev asked confused.

  “Yeah. Because I couldn’t care less about you. You said something tonight. You taunted about Andrea. If anyone knew, you did. Was she an insider?”

  Bev stared at the gun pointed at her. “What do you think?”

  “Was she!” Ellen yelled.

  “No.” Bev shook her head. “We set her up.”

  Ellen let out an emotional breath, reached out, grabbed a hand full of Bev’s hair, and yanked her across the bedroom.

  “What are you doing?” Bev struggled.

  All of Ellen’s rage went into that throw when she tossed Bev down to the desk chair. She kept her aim close on Bev as she reached into the desk drawer and pulled a paper and a pencil. “Write it.”

  “Write what?” Bev shook.

  “Write it all. Write who you are. Clear Andrea’s name and write the name of the other insiders.”

  “No.”

  Ellen clicked back the hammer on the revolver. “Don’t think I won’t shoot. No one will care about you. We all know who you are. Write it down now,” Ellen ordered. “Do it.”

  Shaking, Bev picked up the pen. Her eyes kept shifting as she wrote.

  Ellen watched over her shoulder with the gun aimed. “Now about Andrea.”

  Bev wrote that down.

  “Now about the other insiders.”

  Bev got as far as writing, ‘And the other person is . . .’ She stood up. Lunging for Ellen, she reached for the gun.

  It went back and forth, left to right, in a power struggle over the revolver. Ellen felt Bev’s grip loosening from the handle and she pulled the gun as hard as she could at the same time she shoved Bev back to the chair.