by David Carner
“So where might the good doctor be located?” John asked, a smile covering his face.
“Down your ‘pacing hallway’,” Trip replied. “It seems that he saw you earlier doing one of your infamous ‘thought walks’. He called me to let me know he was available. I called Quantico as soon as I got off the phone with him. I don’t know why, but something just didn’t sit right about him after the conversation,” Trip shrugged his shoulders and looked at John suspiciously. “John, is there something I should know? You’ve been here less than an hour and you are already being requested by a psychiatrist. Quantico says you have to, but I can hold them off for a day or two if need be.”
John smiled and pointed to the note on Trip’s desk. “Man, I must be important,” John said. Trip looked a little confused. “Quantico had someone here before I had even asked to be reinstated,” John said, lifting his eyebrows twice. “I never have known Quantico to be that efficient, it almost seems like this was . . . planned,” John said as he turned, and headed out the door. As he passed through the doorframe into the hallway, he spoke. “Is there anything you should know? Nothing to worry your pretty bald head over boss.”
Trip unconsciously reached up to touch his head and growled. He looked at the note John had dropped on Trip’s desk. It simply read, “Senator missing since we landed in Washington last night.” Trip groaned, looked up at the ceiling and shook his head. He knew he needed John, but he needed John cleared for duty before John could do anything. If something went wrong with this high-profile case, and John wasn’t cleared for duty . . . Trip didn’t want to think of the political firestorm that would rip through the FBI. Trip started chuckling to himself. He didn’t know what would be the outcome of the meeting of John and the psychiatrist, but if he knew John, it would be one the psychiatrist would never forgot. Trip picked up his cell phone, typed a message, and sent a text. Things were about to get very interesting; very interesting indeed.
Chapter 13
John returned to the hallway he had just been in pacing. He finally saw an office that he knew had been vacant in the past with a sign on the door. It read Dr. Stephen Freeman. John knocked and opened the door once he heard someone call out, “come in.”
John entered the room. Dr. Freeman must have just literally moved in, because there was little of nothing, as his father used to say, in the room. There was a desk on one side, a couple of chairs, and the rest of the office was filled with boxes. John glanced quickly at the ceiling. He scanned all four corners of the room and noticed one tile was slightly off in the far back corner. John smiled and looked toward the front of the room where the desk was. The man behind the desk stood and walked over to John, extending his hand. John shook the gentleman’s hand.
“John, John Fowler”
“Mr. Fowler, I’m Dr. Stephen Freeman,” replied the older gentleman.
“Dr Freeman, please call me John. Mr. Fowler is my father,” replied John.
“Then please call me Stephen. I don’t like Steve, just Stephen,” Dr. Freeman said.
“Ok good to meet you Stephen,” John said. “So you need to determine if I’m nuts or fit for duty, is that about right?” Stephen was a little taken aback by John’s directness. “While I’m at it, anything I say here, is it confidential?”
Stephen offered John a seat and took the other one. Stephen smiled. John thought to himself that Stephen would be a great interrogator; he made John feel so at ease. Stephen took a note pad and looked at John.
“John, I don’t think you’re nuts,” Stephen said. “Might you have some emotions that affect you and your abilities? Yes. Might you need someone to talk to so you can work though everything? Yes.” John liked Stephen. There was something about him. Maybe it was just that the man had been professionally taught how to talk to someone. John didn’t know what it was, but he liked him. There was a small part of John that wondered though. It was very convenient that Stephen had been sent here. The timing of it felt odd and suspicious. There was a small part of John that thought John was very paranoid and maybe he did need one of those coats in which he could hug himself. John tried to calm himself. He didn’t get to be a top notch investigator by ignoring his inner warnings, but sometimes a tree was just a tree, and not a ninja dressed up in a tree suit.
John shook his head and looked over at Stephen, who had a large grin on his face. Stephen spoke.
My guess is you’re wondering about how I came here so fast.” John felt his face turn a little red. Wow. This guy was good. Stephen chuckled.
“I believe you met the man behind my transfer yesterday.” John was trying to piece together where he would have met the man Stephen was referring to. “I believe you had a special meeting with the President of the United States yesterday under the White House after the First Lady and David George were arrested?”
John did a mental “duh!” After the altercation had ended yesterday, a man from Quantico had led John and Trip to an area beneath the White House where the three had met with the President. It was there the man from Quantico had told John there would be no resistance from those in Quantico should he decide to return to the FBI. John looked at Stephen quizzically.
“The President requested the FBI do all they could to assist you. Well, soon to be ex-President,” Stephen said. John nodded. The President was preparing to step down after the events that had transpired yesterday. He was concerned that the American people might believe he was bought by his father-in-law, Archibald Staples. Stephen continued.
“My job, John, is not to hinder you or even to keep you from being re-instated. I am simply here for you to have someone to talk to. The bureau has thought for a while they might need someone with my skills here in the New York office. Simply put, we need to meet every so often, but mostly when you need me.”
John nodded. He noticed that Stephen had skipped the confidentiality part. John leaned forward in his chair, tapped his fingers together, and looked sideways at Stephen. Stephen sighed and then chuckled.
“You don’t miss a thing do you?” asked Stephen. He tapped a pencil against his lip, thinking. “How’s this? If you have actual concrete proof of something that is going to happen, and reveal it to me but don’t report it to Trip . . . then we have a problem.”
John nodded and was silent for a minute. Stephen watched John. Stephen crossed his legs and tapped the pencil against his lip. He waited on John for a few minutes. Stephen continued.
“Of course, if it’s just thoughts or theories that are bouncing around in your head and you think your judgment of those things is being clouded by past events of your life, we can always talk about that in confidence.” John, still leaning forward, turned his head toward Stephen and smiled a sly smile.
“Hope you’re ready to listen, Stephen,” said John.
Chapter 14
John sat back in the chair. He really wanted to talk this through, but he needed to get moving. It was approaching 24 hours since the senator had been kidnapped. He had to get moving on the case.
“Stephen, can you clear me so I can get going and I’ll set an appointment to see you ASAP?” John asked.
“Nope,” replied Stephen.
“Stephen, I’m working on a kidnapping case and every minute that passes is critical,” John said.
“Then you best get to talking,” replied Stephen. “Now tell me what’s been going on in your life.” John smiled. OK, Stephen, he thought. If that’s what you want then that’s what you’ll get.
“A little under twenty-four hours ago, me, my team, Trip, and the Senator uncovered a cover-up by the First Lady of the United States of America. We also discovered that a young man, who had watched his sister killed because of the First Lady’s actions, and was nearly killed as well, was plotting to take revenge on her. Trip, the Senator, and I arrived in Washington. I just learned that minutes after our arrival the Senator was kidnapped. While that was going on, I hijacked a TV camera, went into the Oval Office, and recorded the First Lady’s confession. Afterwar
ds Trip arrested her and David George. I then met with your friend and the President. I flew back to Washington, was offered my job back and my wife’s case, both of which I declined at the time. I asked one of my team, Jessica Hammerstein, to join me at an AA meeting that night. Jessica and I have been dealing with our feelings for each other, but in the past three years she has been doing the things I should have been doing, such as contacting my friends and family and apologizing for my actions as an alcoholic. I digress from the story.
“I spoke at the AA meeting last night for the first time after attending at least 100 over the last three years. I then went on my first date since my wife died. Jessica and I talked until 2 am or so and then we each went to our separate apartments. I got up this morning and went to my office where I was served. My in-laws are suing me for my wife’s trust that was left to her by her grandparents. Apparently there is a LOT of money in that trust. I really have no idea how much. As I sat down to process all of that, my cell rang telling me that Senator Cosby had been kidnapped.”
John reached over to the table between them. There were some bottled waters in an ice chest. He got one and took a drink. Stephen watched him with a bemused smile. He waited until John swallowed and then asked his question.
“Is that a typical day for you, John?”
If John had any water in his mouth he would have spewed it everywhere. John roared with laughter. He laughed for several minutes and Stephen chuckled.
“No it’s not a typical day,” John replied. “My life was an abysmal mess for the last three years!!” John scoffed. “Life!! That‘s a hoot. I honestly hadn’t lived for the past three years! Do you know how many seedy pictures I’ve taken of seedy people in seedy places!?! It’s a miracle I can eat. Some of the things I saw were just stomach turning!” Stephen was jotting something in his notes. He stood up and walked around to his desk. Stephen signed a piece of paper. Stephen walked back to his chair and sat down. He handed the paper to John. It was his reinstatement.
“That’s it!?!” John asked incredulously.
“You’ve got problems, John. Heck, we’ve all got problems. I have my orders, but I have my conscience as well. You said it yourself. You’ve lived more in the past few days than you have the past few years. I feel that taking you away from the FBI would do you more harm than good. Welcome back John. Welcome back to the FBI, but more importantly, welcome back to life.”
Tears filled John’s eyes. He didn’t know until that moment how much the FBI meant to him. He was back!! He was finally back!!!
Chapter 15
John was as happy as he could remember being. As great a feeling as this was, he was very conflicted. He knew he had to continue to talk to Stephen. He had to work out the problems in his head, and he couldn’t go to Trip with his concerns; not until he had everything he needed.
“Stephen, this is going to sound odd, but I need a favor,” John said.
“I’ll do my best to help,” Stephen replied.
“I need to talk about some things.” John stood up and started to pace. “There are things that don’t make sense, but I can’t decide if it’s because something is really going on, or if it’s because I’ve got some pent up thingamajig.”
“I’m not sure thingamajig is a scientific term,” began Stephen. “But we can talk a while and see if we can straighten out whatever is bothering you. Go ahead.”
John started to pace and then pinch his bottom lip together while he was doing it. Stephen watched in fascination. He had heard John was a master of deduction, and to watch him in action was something. John began.
“The way I was brought back to the FBI doesn’t make a lot of sense to me,” John paused his pacing and looked directly at Stephen. “It doesn’t make sense mostly because of what I know that a lot of people don’t know. It’s about how I left the FBI.” John stopped talking, waiting for Stephen to sort through what he said. Stephen nodded for John to continue. John began to pace and talk.
“Everyone thinks we busted an entire crime family three years ago, but that’s not entirely true. We busted everyone we had something on, but there was one member that we didn’t get.” John stopped, and stood still, barely breathing. Stephen found himself holding his breath.
“Who was it??” Stephen asked.
“You know him today as the alleged head of the Lucciano crime family, Robert Mariotti Jr., but back then he was simply ‘The Duck’,” John said. Stephen tried to look serious. Then he began to snicker. The snickers turned into full fledge laughter.
“The Duck?” Stephen asked. “The Duck!?!” Stephen began to shake with laughter. John smiled and waited for Stephen to ask him something. Stephen signaled for John to continue. John waited for Stephen’s laughter to subside. The internal alarm was starting to go off in the back of John’s head.
“I know, trust me I know it’s the craziest name ever given,” John said. “No one calls him that today, but what no one realizes is Duck left the crime family about a week before we began our undercover sting. That was right about the time it became known in my team that I was to go undercover. It always bothered me a little about the timing of the whole thing. After my wife died I didn’t care if the mob put a hit out on me or not. Looking back, I do find it awful strange that it never happened.”
John stopped. He didn’t know if he could tell Stephen the next part. He was at a point he could say it was all crazy coincidence and conspiracy theory on his part. John knew himself well. Once he voiced the questions he had, he wouldn’t let them go until he knew the answers. Stephen quietly asked a question.
“John, do you think this man had something to do with your wife’s death? Did he either kill her or place a hit on her?”
“No,” John replied. Emotions washed over John. “No. Oh man.” John sat down in the chair. Tears were coming to his eyes. He had sworn to himself this was over.
“Let it out, John,” Stephen said.
“I’ve been letting out tears for three years Stephen.”
“That’s right, John, but let the words out, express your feelings. Tell me what you’re holding on to that you haven’t told apparently anyone. “
John looked down at the floor. “I think my wife was murdered and I don’t think it had anything to do with me. I’m supposed to be this great detective and I can’t figure out who or why my wife was killed. Don’t you see, if it had something to do with me, I could punish myself. I could pay for my sins. I could drink myself to death and not regret it for one minute, but it’s not my fault.” John was freely sobbing. “Stephen, I think she was killed . . . just because.”
Stephen nodded. “And the explosion?”
John waved his hand in the air like he was annoyed with the rank amateur question. “A cover-up; fire is one of the greatest weapons in covering something up. If done right . . . “ John left his thought hanging. John slammed both of his fists against the arms of the chair. Stephen smiled a sad smile and nodded.
“Why couldn’t it be my fault, Stephen? Why!?!? I could punish me, I could. I can’t catch whoever did this and until I do . . . I can’t move on. It’s not fair. I’m alive and she’s dead. It’s not fair she’s dead, but she is. She’s dead, and I’m the one that should be,” John sat there, head down. He looked at Stephen. “I thought I was past this.”
“John, you’re not past it, until you’re past it. What can I say, you’ve got a form of survivor’s guilt; you know, a thingamajig.” John laughed. He dried the tears on his face. Stephen studied John for a minute and then spoke. “You weren’t done with your concerns were you?”
John glanced at Stephen sideways as he drank some water. John liked Stephen, and wanted to consider him a friend, but John was afraid that wasn’t possible. John sat the bottle down. “I’ve gotta say, Stephen,” John began. “You’re good.”
Chapter 16
“So I’m guessing you’ve read my file?” John asked. Stephen nodded. “Then I think there might be a little something in there about me being interrogated
by ‘The Hammer’ and how well that went?” Stephen winced. “What it didn’t tell was how I blessed out reporters, my in-laws, parents, and anyone I felt like after the funeral. Jessica covered for me on all of those occasions. She even, according to her, began dating my buddy to find out about me.”
John was up and walking again. “What really bothers me is they both gave a slightly different story of what happened. They both claim they asked the other out. Not a big deal, but it’s one of many small strange things.” John stopped. “If I sound crazy, you’ll tell me, right?”
“John,” Stephen began. “You do sound a little like a conspiracy theorist, but that doesn’t mean you’re wrong.”
John continued with the story and pacing.
“The next inconsistency we have is the supposed DVD or some type of recording done by David George. Chet claimed he saw a video, and there isn’t one in evidence. I also asked David George about it. Now I admit David’s not the greatest witness in the world, but I believe him.” Stephen looked at John skeptically. “I asked him, if he was the one who killed those four people would he have taped it. He replied that wouldn’t be a very smart thing to do.” Stephen nodded that he understood and motioned for John to continue.
“The last thing that concerns me is something that I dismissed at the time but now that I’ve had a little time to think about it, really bothers me. According to Trip and the Senator, Arthur is the one who demanded me back in the FBI.” John stopped walking and looked at Stephen. Stephen looked absolutely perplexed.
“Let me be frank here, John,” Stephen said. “Doesn’t Arthur hate your guts?”
“EXACTLY!!!” John exclaimed. “Why would Arthur want me? I messed up and asked the Senator and Trip if that is what happened. Now it may have been what they wanted, but how do I know someone didn’t encourage Arthur to do it. I can make loose connections to one person in every one of these scenarios except the one involving Duck, and I haven’t looked into that one.” Stephen looked very confused. While John had been talking alarms were going off in his head. John was 90% certain he knew what was going on in the FBI.
