The two walked around the corner as I maneuvered through a pair of ushers who asked a couple if it was their first time visiting the church, and cautiously continued my pursuit. I poked my head around the corner and saw the two go into the pastor’s office. I decided to slip into the room and listen to their conversation, just in time to hear Brandon tell the pastor all about me. I hated it for Brandon when the pastor failed to believe him about the things Brandon said about me. I decided to make a hasty retreat to the parking lot after the pastor referred Brandon to the city records at the Black Castle. I picked up on the pastor’s desire to end the conversation he didn’t want to have.
“Brandon is a smart man, and I’m sure he will find what he’s looking for in those records,” I said to the Lord as I stood in the darkness and waited. Brandon charged out with the look of determination of a man fired up to find answers to haunting questions. He took off out of the parking lot, but he proceeded in the direction away from the Black Castle. That made sense because it was closed.
“You’re right, Father, this man does intrigue me. I have to see where he is going.” I checked the time and straightened my tie. “And I have plenty of time before my next appointment, so let’s see what he’s up to.”
I took to the sky and rode the winds to keep up with Brandon to his destination. I was surprised when Brandon parked in his spot by his building.
“Don’t tell me he is going to try and run to save his own skin, Father. I didn’t peg this one to be a coward, but I’ve seen the strongest of people resort to all sorts of things out of desperation when their life is on the line.”
I remained hidden safely in the spirit and walked next to Brandon as he entered his building and ran the stairs in twos to make it to his floor faster. I knew he lacked the ability to see in the spirit, so my presence was safely concealed from his sight. He never had a clue I stood right next to him the entire time, and I loved it. When he got to his door, he was so excited that he fumbled with his keys and the door lock three different times before he got it open. I however, passed through and waited for him on the other side.
“It’s about time you figured out how to use the door, Brandon,” I joked, and knew full well he couldn’t hear me. I still enjoyed saying it all the same.
I figured he would run into his tiny bedroom, and pack up what little he had left, and bolt out the door. However, he ran right past me to his desk, and unlocked the file cabinet drawer. He pulled up a tall stack of files and laid out nine individual folders on his desk. I walked over, more curious than ever to see what Mr. Farmer was up to.
He opened each one, and at the top was a picture of all of those involved in the court cases from all his troubles with Ron. He even had a file that contained information on himself. I had to hand it to the guy, he was truly good, and a little obsessed on collecting the information needed to get justice or revenge. I still wasn’t sure what he was truly after, and I don’t believe even he could tell someone what he truly wanted for all the parties that were involved in his downfall.
Brandon started to talk out loud, which he did often to organize his thoughts.
“Okay, if that Wrath guy went after Ron, then he must be going after everyone that was connected to him, and that includes me. Ron is dead and three others were killed from supposed mob hits. If I’m on that maniac’s list, then the Amaras must be on the list as well. Wrath said it went from the one with least to most authority.” Brandon rearranged the files in the proper order.
“So, then it must go Joey Abbate, Frankie, Enzo, then Skeeter himself, and finally me, since he said I was last on his list.” Brandon stood back and surveyed his work. The man was as good as I was told, for he had put it all together as far as my targets went. He arranged them in the proper order I would visit them.
“You’re right, Lord, he shows amazing potential. He may very well be the one to aid me on my assignments, but can he figure out how to save himself before it’s too late?” I quietly said to myself as I stood next to Brandon.
Brandon rubbed the back of his head and looked all around the room before he started talking to himself again.
“If this Wrath person is after these guys, I should just let him kill them. He would be doing the city and the world a favor.”
That didn’t seem like Brandon at all to even let bad guys get killed. I thought him to be more of a law-and-order man.
“Dang it, I can’t even let these scumbags get killed. It would be too good for them. No. They need to be held accountable for all the lives they have ruined.”
That’s it, I knew the Boy Scout wouldn’t be able to live with the deaths of even the guilty on his conscience.
“What time is it?” Brandon asked his phone. “Good God. One in the morning?” He paced. “Tomorrow is Thursday, which means Joey will make rounds to take everyone’s customary bets. That means he’s already turned in for the night since he has to do what he considers actual work tomorrow. He can’t risk being hammered because Skeeter will kill him if he messes up like he did that one-time years ago when he mistakenly paid out too much money after he drank almost an entire bottle of vodka. A lot of people went home happy that night. Skeeter, not so much... I was surprised Joey only had a black eye. Anyway, I can’t wait outside his house because he lives in a gated community, and I’m sure I’d be spotted, and then they would kill me. I wouldn’t be surprised if they think I killed Ron whenever they find out he’s dead if they don’t know already. Either way, I have to warn Joey about what’s heading his way.”
Brandon grabbed his keys. “And why am I having an entire conversation with myself out loud when I have no idea who could be listening?”
He stopped but spoke again. “Wait. That guy is obsessed with time and adhering to doing things in a certain order. Ron said he saw a guy following him, so I’ll go to Joey tomorrow, and tell him about Ron. I might get lucky and see that Wrath guy lurking around there myself and stop him then. At the very least I can warn Joey, and he can tell the others, and then I’m good. That’s all I can do, and then I focus all my efforts on trying to stop Wrath from killing me. I still need to find out what that guys about, and what he’s really after in all these killings. However, I can’t shake the feeling that he really is what he says he is.”
Brandon sat at his desk and reviewed the files in front of him in silence. He opened a drawer and took out a pen and notebook. I stood over his shoulder as he scribbled notes. Wrath said he used a knife to kill Ron because it was Ron’s favorite weapon, and he said Ron killed all those elderly people with a knife. Wrath also said he emptied all of Ron’s safety deposit boxes to stop him from fleeing town, so he had studied Ron and me. He seemed to know all about Ron and myself, and he must know all about his other targets. If he killed Ron with a knife, then he must be planning on killing these other guys in the same way they’ve killed other people. I’ve never killed anyone, so how is he planning on killing me?
I smiled as Brandon pored over his notes, because I realized how much fun I was going to have. He figured out how I would end the lives of those wicked people, and I so looked forward to the game of cat and mouse we were already engaged in.
Chapter Eight
Brandon Farmer
The City of Black Castle
I STAYED AWAKE UNTIL around three in the morning, refreshing myself on the potential four targets Wrath was going after. Since Joey would be the first, it made no sense to get up early because his restaurant didn’t open until lunch, so I tried to sleep in. I tossed and turned, because every time I closed my eyes, I saw Wrath stab Ron in the chest and him dying while I was helpless to stop it. Wrath was clearly insane and had to be stopped before he targeted innocent people. I had seen that sort of behavior before when I was a detective. Once a person crossed the line of murder to get revenge, they soon viewed everyone as guilty, and their cycle of killing never stopped until the police or someone else ended it. I was terrified of crossing that line, in spite of the times I had wanted to. I feared more wha
t I’d become and what it would do to me if I ever killed someone in cold blood.
After a night of continuously checking the clock, I rolled out of bed shortly after ten and took a quick shower. I ate a frozen breakfast sandwich I had left over in my mini-fridge and grabbed my gun and tucked it in my holster behind my back. I was headed to a restaurant Joey owned uptown. I knew the restaurant functioned as a front to launder his ill-gotten gains, but I didn’t have the evidence to prove it yet. I would have to figure out one day because no one had ever taken him down, but I was sure he had all the right people in authority paid to look the other way. I knew Joey would be running the to-go orders, which was how people placed their bets. He used a special menu for those making bets, and the different menu items indicated what the person wanted to bet on.
It ranged from sports, the stock market closing numbers, to even who would win a Grammy or an Oscar that year, and God only knew what else Joey had on there. He took their money and gave them a receipt and told them to come back later to pick up their order. If the person won, they returned and showed their receipt which was their ticket, and they walked out with a to-go bag of food with their concealed winnings. Joey also had literal to-go orders processed through there as not to draw unwanted attention. It took me a while to figure out how he did it, but by then I had already been terminated from the force, and everyone thought I was making accusations as a way to get even. I drove around the building a few times and made sure it wasn’t being watched by the police or Wrath, and to see if Joey had stepped up security after Ron’s murder. Everything appeared normal, so I parked and walked toward the building. Joey’s Kitchen was the name of the Italian restaurant he owned, and you couldn’t get any more cliché than a mobster owning an Italian restaurant.
I had to give credit to Joey because his place looked amazing, and the chicken parmesan was pretty good too. The off-white stone caused the place to have a warm and inviting feel to it, and the patio was lined with black tables and chairs that were always filled with people. The flower bushes lined the building and accentuated the main entrance to draw people’s eyes from the to-go door where the real business happened. It really was a shame what that place was used for because it would make anyone a great legitimate living.
I stepped up on the sidewalk as Scott Fuller walked out with a large brown paper bag. I had never officially met him, but I’d recognize his weaselly face anywhere. He had short blonde hair and with a well-trimmed beard to match. He was dressed in a casual button-down plaid shirt with kakis and seemed just as meticulous as Lizzie was. I knew the moment he locked eyes with me he knew who I was. I figured Lizzie had told him all about me and must have shown him some pictures with a warning to keep an eye out for me because she believed I spied on them. I decided it was best to ignore him and walk by like he wasn’t there, but Scott had other plans for me.
“Brandon Farmer, if I’m not mistaken?” Scott stopped directly in front of me.
“Yeah, and you are?” I hoped to push the conversation another way.
“Cut the crap, Brandon, I know you know who I am,” Scott fired back with an edge.
I expected him to be a little upset, but I was a little surprised by his hostile demeanor. I wondered if Lizzie knew he had a temper. I had to keep my cool and get rid of him as fast as possible. If I threatened or intimidated him in anyway, he would go right back and tell Lizzie what happened between us. At the very least it would cement all the horrible things they thought about me, and she would arrest me or file charges against me at the worst.
“Okay Scott, yes, I know who you are.”
He walked up to me, and I could see the anger flare in his eyes as he stopped about a foot away.
“I’m glad I ran into you. Elizabeth told me you have been watching us.”
“That’s not true. I haven’t been spying on you guys.”
“I said cut the crap, Brandon. She told me you did a background check on me. You can look all you want, but you’re not going to find anything. Your spying on Elizabeth and I stops today.” He stepped a little closer to me as his tone grew harsher. “I know you know who I am, and what I do for a living, because Elizabeth told me all about it.”
“Look Scott, I’m not watching you and Elizabeth, and I’m not looking to start any trouble with you.” I stayed calm while I secretly wanted to punch him in his mouth.
Scott eased his tone, and stood straight, no doubt feeling victorious over me. “Okay Brandon, I just want to say to you that you don’t scare me, and Elizabeth and I will both press charges on you if we happen to see you anywhere near us again. You must accept the fact your relationship with her is over. Can you be a man about this and accept that?”
There was the counselor part of a social worker coming out in him.
“Yeah, I know,” I said and looked away.
“I’ll hear you say the words, please.”
That was it. His condescending tone fried the marrow in my bones and my anger burned as he leaned closer. I’d had all the disrespect I was going to take.
I snapped my head straight and locked eyes with the man. For the first time I saw how scrawny he was. It sickened me that Elizabeth was with that runt of a man who I’m sure couldn’t protect her if someone came after her—which happened more frequently than it should in her line of work. I wanted to respond kindly again, but it was too late, and the guy had got under my skin.
I took a commanding step forward and drove him out of my space. “Who do you think you’re talking to? One of those dead-beat parents who neglect their kids?”
His confidence quickly drained. “Okay, Brandon, now wait just a minute...”
I stepped forward again. “Don’t okay Brandon me. You’re the one who started this whole confrontation. I was happy to walk past you, and not say a word, but you had to run your mouth like a tough guy. Did that make you feel like a big man? Are you going to demand me to say other things too, so you can go and tell all your friends, tough guy? I bet the only fight you’ve been in was a shouting match. Tell me, do you feel like a big man right now, Scott? I’ll hear you say the words please,” I mocked.
“I didn’t mean to offend you, Brandon. I only want you to leave Elizabeth and I alone.”
“Let me tell you something else, Scott. I know things are over between Elizabeth and me. I have known that for a long time seeing how I don’t call, text, or try to contact her in any way. As far as I’m concerned, she’s all yours, so good for you. I have a lot more going on in my life than this petty high school garbage, so why don’t you cut the crap, and stay out of my face?”
When I stopped talking, I noticed I had walked Scott about two feet back, and I was more than ready for a fight.
Scott was terrified, and I was sure he would run back to Lizzie and tell on me like a child does to one of their siblings. My eyes were locked on him as he fumbled around for an apology to get him out of the predicament he firmly placed himself in.
“We’re both adults here, Brandon. There’s no need for this to get physical. As Elizabeth’s fiancé, I felt it was necessary to defend her honor.”
Pathetic weakling. He used Lizzie to get him out of the trouble his big mouth got him into.
“Yeah, defend her honor, well that’s good for you. Let me ask you a question, tough guy, do you know what goes on in there?” I pointed to the to-go door.
Scott looked over at the door and back at me. “It’s a restaurant, they serve food,” he said with a confused look on his face.
“Just food, huh, what’s in the bag, Scott?”
“It’s lunch for Elizabeth and me. Are you okay?”
“Do you know who owns this restaurant?”
“No. Elizabeth and I like the lunch specials, mainly the soup and salad.”
I noticed others had started to look at us, so I backed down my intensity and relaxed my posture. Part of me felt like he was telling the truth “The owner is not one you want to be associated with. If I were you, I’d find another restaurant, and tell
Elizabeth to do some digging on what really goes on in this place.”
I turned my back to Scott and faced the to-go door.
“Are you sure you’re not a part of the Amaras?” Scott spoke just loud enough for me to hear. “Because you sure act like it.”
He retreated after his last attack, and I kicked myself as he walked away from what transpired between us. He wanted me to react, and I played right into his hands. I knew he’d run back to Lizzie and tell her what happened, and further push her away from me. A part of me still held on to a sliver of hope that one day we’d get back together. However, that would never happen if I kept having heated run-ins with her and Scott, but I pushed that from my mind. I had come for a specific reason, and I wouldn’t let myself become distracted from that.
I entered the restaurant with its elegant white walls adorned with various Tuscan landscapes that were accented by the black crown molding. My mouth watered as I breathed in the heavenly scent of marinara, but I ignored my stomach’s desire to eat. Scott did have one thing right, and that was the food was amazing there. I would never utter those words aloud for anyone to hear.
Joey Abbate stood at the chest high to-go counter with his arms stretched out on top of it as he leaned against the counter to survey all who entered his establishment. He used a high counter so no one could tell if he had a gun or not, and it also contained a hidden one-inch-thick steel plate within it. All Joey had to do was duck behind it if someone started shooting at him. The only reason I knew that was because Ron made me get us lunch from here all the time, and I was there when they brought the steel in and installed it. When I asked why they were installing the massive plate, the workers just said it had something to do with reinforcement for the structure.
Joey had that same cocky smile on his face I’d grown to loath over the years.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the city’s most disgraced officer gracing me with his presence. What did I do to deserve this great honor? I’ll tell you what, anything you want to eat today is on the house for previous services rendered,” he said as he laughed to himself.
The Wrath Walker (The Wrath Series Book 1) Page 8
