The Wallis Jones Series Box Set - Volume Two: Books Four thru Six

by Martha Carr

  “Where’s Alphonso? What happened to you?” said George, looking past Olga at Charlie’s bruised face. Charlie looked down and realized he had torn the knee in the leg of his pants. Charlie let his training take over and decided to tell as much of the truth as he could manage and reassign the roles.

  “Alphonso doubled back and went into the library over on Houston. He was meeting someone. I couldn’t get close enough to see who it was but there was a chalk mark on the door.”

  “Where is he now,” said George, in an even tone that sounded cold.

  “Dead. I killed him. It was necessary,” he said, matching George’s tone. He was surprised how easy it had been to stare into Alphonso’s eyes as he choked him. “I went through his pockets to take his phone with me but it was already gone. I found these instead,” he said, pulling out the rest of the rose petals and dropping them at his feet. The color drained from George’s face as he swore under his breath.

  “Circle trash,” he muttered, patting Charlie on the shoulder. It reminded Charlie of something his father would have done. “Did anyone see you?”

  “Yes, a woman but she didn’t get much of a look. The police may already be there,” said Charlie, doing his best to only convey information and not how he felt about any of it. “I’m sorry,” he said, hoping he sounded sincere. It had felt good to get a little revenge. That thought worried him but he let it go. Think about that on another day.

  “We need to move,” said George, clapping his hands together. “It’s alright, it only speeds up our timeline by a few days. This is good news, I think, yes, good news. You killed the mole. Did you see anyone else around, anyone at all?”

  “No,” said Charlie, shaking his head. “Nothing out of the ordinary, until I saw Alphonso.”

  “Your first kill?” asked George, licking his lower lip, narrowing his eyes. Olga rolled her eyes.

  “So much drama. A life poorly lived has ended,” said Olga, “for the millionth time. Hardly news. Darwin’s theory in practice.”

  “Yes,” said Charlie, “my first,” feeling his stomach sour.

  “It can be a little hard to take, at least for a little while,” said George shrugging. “It passes. Good you got it over with and on such a traitor.”

  Charlie could feel the echo of Alphonso’s last word. Traitor. He felt like he was being hollowed out.

  “Hey!” A shout came from the other room followed by the sound of a sharp slap. George Clemente trembled all over and shoved Olga aside, making the bent woman shake for a moment but she stood her ground remarkably well. Charlie slipped past her more easily, following George to see if Norman was still in one piece.

  “He bit me,” said one of the bigger Watchers, holding his hand in the other, an angry look on his face that quickly mixed with a little fear as he saw the enraged Clemente burst into the room.

  Norman was leaning over to one side, licking the blood off of his lip, a satisfied smile on his face.

  George picked up a small pillow from a nearby chair and pulled out the small Glock Charlie knew he kept with him at all times. He held up the pillow and shot the Watcher in the center of his forehead, muffling the sound. It was all one fluid motion that spoke to how often he must have done the same act, ridding himself of a problem and setting an example.

  He died with a look of surprise on his face. A small spray of blood made a line of spatter down Norman’s face. He squeezed his eyes shut, covering his mouth. Charlie saw him curling up almost into a ball. He must have thought he could be next.

  He must wonder how long he has left to live, thought Charlie, putting the idea out of his mind as soon as he had it. That could only get in the way. If he could keep Norman alive, he would do it, even if it cost him his life. But he would carry out the mission first. Keep George Clemente from completing his plan and destroying the Circle, even if destroying Management was part of it too.

  “Darwin at work,” said Olga, sounding both bored and annoyed. “Clean that up before you go. A bloody mess was not part of the deal. I assume you’re departing post haste,” she said.

  Charlie looked away from Norman, not wanting to see if he looked in his direction. He had been trained to live with the uncertainty and at least could tell himself he chose it. Hell, he was raised with something like this in mind, despite what his parents told themselves.

  Maybe Norman, a zwanzig was raised for it at as well but he was the trapped rabbit who was equal parts pet and prey at the moment.

  “Dispose of that,” said George, shaking an impatient finger at the body on the floor, leveling his gaze at the Watchers who had quietly pressed themselves back against the wall.

  “Now!” he barked, loud enough to be heard outside. Olga let out a tsk and left the room, brushing her hands together as if she was done with all of it. “Let me know when you’re ready to go. You’ll take the railcar out as far as it will go,” she said, as she turned and headed out to the hall and up the stairs.

  Charlie had heard for more days than he could count that he was working and living right next to the devil but before today he had never seen the beginning of any real proof. Still, how much could he say? He had solved his own problem by squeezing the breath out of Alphonso and then run away, and lied about what happened, and that was the right option.

  He bit the inside of his cheek and fought to think of something else while he felt a piece of who he used to be slip away as if it had never been there. He was someone else now.

  “Mr. Weiskopf, it appears we are moving, again. I apologize for the jockeying around and the clumsiness of some of my team. But as you can see, I will not abide with anyone harming you. You are safe with us, you have my word, unless things do not turn out as I expect. But I have every confidence, every confidence.”

  Not much of a promise, thought Charlie. More of a warning. He wondered if Wallis Jones knew yet. So many of us have no choice tonight and all because of just one man’s ambition. Charlie felt himself sink into a new resolve. He would crush George Clemente, no matter the cost. No half measures.

  Chapter 10

  Esther and Father Donald found Wallis Jones just coming out of the Henrico County courthouse. She was standing just outside the courthouse talking to her client, a tall man who looked beaten down by something. He was a father who was finally awarded shared custody for his three children. It had taken an entire year and Wallis had to disprove every bit of gossip the ex-wife had let slip throughout the neighborhood.

  “There will always be people who think you must have done something. Don’t waste your time on them,” said Wallis. “They were never going to be your friends. Remember, you are who you hang out with, and starting next week, you can hang out with your kids.”

  The man’s face suddenly broke into an easy smile that kept spreading across his face as if he just realized he had really won, at last. Wallis patted him on the shoulder and smiled as well. It was a good victory. A good day.

  “Okay, go home, celebrate and keep doing what you’re supposed to be doing. A word of warning. There will be more gossip, maybe even worse gossip and when that doesn’t work, there will be angry phone calls or emails or texts. A barrage.”

  “That goes without saying,” he said.

  “Think of them all as little bits of bait on a very sharp hook. Don’t bite at any of it,” she said, as she watched the opposing counsel trying to encourage the man’s ex-wife to walk back to her car. She was already protesting loudly.

  “You’ll only feel better in the moment,” said Wallis, “and anything you say or send to her can be used in court. Amplified it will look like you have a temper and there must be more hidden underneath.”

  The smile started to slip off of his face.

  “When you’ve had enough, call me, tell me. None of that is admissible and I’ve heard it all before, and then some. For now, celebrate this part of the journey. Think of it all like a journey because your children will stand between you and Lacey for the rest of your days. The sooner you can make peac
e with what is, instead of wishing for something else, the sooner you can be happy and get on with things.”

  That’s when she spotted the familiar Crown Victoria and a moment of curiosity shot through her. “I’ll speak to you next week after the order is finalized and to see how you’re doing. Laurel will be in touch if there are any questions,” she said, patting his arm again.

  She watched her client hesitate as if he wanted to ask something. “I’m not sure what to do with myself,” he said. “We’ve been fighting this for so long.”

  “For today, celebrate. Then make sure the rooms are ready. This is all good,” she said, nodding.

  He turned and headed to his car in the direction of Esther Ackerman’s old Crown Victoria, passing by without even noticing the old relic. But Wallis noticed and saw the panicked expression on Father Donald, who sat in the passenger seat and looked like he was sorry for something. There were spots of something dark on his collar.

  For a minute, Wallis stood there, just watching them, unwilling to go any closer. She knew something was wrong but for just that minute, if she didn’t get any closer, she could let things stay just as they were right now.

  Things had been so much easier these past six months. Ned was happier and Norman was actually trying new things. Running, the man was trying running, she thought.

  But if Father Donald and Esther had tracked her down to the parking lot of a courthouse something had happened to someone she loved and it wouldn’t be easily fixed. If it could be fixed at all.

  She already felt the pain in the middle of her chest and tried to will it away, wanting to let this perfect piece of time hang in the air. She gripped the handle on her briefcase, harder, till the stitching was biting into her palm.

  Finally, Father Donald started to open his car door as Esther seemed to tell him no, shaking her head, but he ignored her. Esther was always better at reading a situation, thought Wallis. She knows me, she knows I don’t need to know just yet.

  “What’s another minute,” she whispered, letting out a gulp that threatened to overwhelm her.

  Father Donald started toward her, a determined look on his face. As he got closer Wallis realized the deep brown stains on his collar were drops of blood and his nose looked slightly off center like it might be broken.

  She made herself take deep breaths, holding at the top, letting them out slowly. These are the only seconds left where everything is okay, she thought. Enjoy them. Whatever has happened, the worst for them is over.

  “You can do this,” she whispered, tensing her body for the blow that was headed her way.

  Father Donald started to slow down, as if he saw the folly in rushing the news, whatever it was. He never looked away, keeping her gaze.

  Wallis had never seen that much pain on his face, even when Harriet lay in the hospital struggling to live.

  He stopped a few feet from her and looked back at Esther who was just getting out of the car. She wasn’t paying him any attention. Wallis realized Esther understood it didn’t matter how the news was delivered. Nothing was going to make it better.

  “It’s Norman, isn’t it?” she said, quietly as if it wouldn’t be quite as true if it was whispered into the world. Different smells, images, sounds ran through her mind. The smell of his skin early in the morning. The way he mumbled in his sleep until she wrapped an arm around him. Even his distracted pat-pat of the back of his head. All of it was gone.

  Father Donald’s face seemed to cave in on itself as tears started to fall down his face. She went to him and wrapped her arms around Norman’s best friend, trying to connect herself somehow to Norman. She felt a space between herself and everything else and observed what was going on around her without feeling connected to any of it.

  Her mooring was gone.

  Father Donald shook from the sobs and kept saying, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

  Wallis wanted to tell him he probably wasn’t at fault but she knew that sounded a little like blame and it occurred to her standing there in the parking lot that she wasn’t sure exactly what he might be sorry about in all of this. After all, he had always known more than he let on and perhaps there were things for him to answer to her. She felt a flash of anger pass through her as she suddenly let go of him and took a step back.

  “Sorry for what?” she asked, trying to not sound petulant. It was the best she could manage.

  “I knew something was wrong but I didn’t take every precaution. Norman didn’t want me to keep making such a big deal. He told me he couldn’t live like that,” he stammered, trying to explain. “I took the bat. I looked around first.”

  His sentences were ragged, coming out in fits and starts.

  “How did he die?” she asked, suddenly wanting to get it over with and know the worst had happened.

  “Die?” asked the Father. He looked startled and his face flushed crimson. “Why, no, no,” he said, waving his hands in front of him.

  “Dear God,” snarled Esther, “You’ve made a mess out of the entire thing. I didn’t think that was even possible. This you should be sorry for,” she spat out. Still, Father Donald couldn’t find the words.

  “For God’s sake, stop making this about you,” snapped Esther, her frustration growing. “When did this become a part of your repertoire?” Her voice was rising and Wallis saw people looking their way. A lawyer she knew hesitated at the door and seemed to be thinking about intervening. It wouldn’t be the first time an angry mother or father decided to take out their own bad choices on a lawyer, so sure they had somehow been wronged.

  Esther looked over to see where Wallis was looking and smiled patiently at the man waiting by the front door. She waved as she turned back to Wallis, taking both of her hands and folding her hands over the top.

  “Wallis, my lovely, Norman is not dead,” she said. Wallis felt her chest expand, and her head felt too light as she tried to understand what could have happened.

  “I don’t understand,” she started to say. Suddenly, another thought occurred to her and she gripped Esther’s hands tightly, making the older woman wince. But Esther did not attempt to pull away her hands and instead, tried to keep smiling as she looked at Wallis.

  “Tell me it’s not Ned,” said Wallis, pleading, pulling down on Esther’s hands as she started to settle downward toward the ground. Her eyes filled with tears.

  “No, it’s not Ned. It is Norman,” said Esther, still looking into Wallis’ eyes. “He’s been abducted, taken.”

  Wallis’ eyes grew wider as she tried to comprehend what they were saying. “Then why are you here with me? Why aren’t you out looking for him?” she shouted.

  A deputy sheriff came out of the courthouse and started up the sloping sidewalk to where they were standing. Wallis remembered Oscar Newman, a deputy she had seen for years every time she walked into the building who ended up trying to kill her, more than once. Her body gave a jerk as if an electrical jolt had passed through her.

  “We have a very good idea of where he is,” said Esther, “and we have to plan carefully for what comes next. Clemente is a sociopath, I can’t hide that from you,” she said, gently squeezing Wallis’ hands.

  “Clemente,” whispered Wallis.

  “But he wants something desperately. Power,” Esther whispered, as if these were comforting words.

  “He craves that more than anything,” said Esther, “Norman is a pawn for him but he needs him in good condition for whatever he is going to try next. We will need to be ready, to shore up our resolve. To do our very best to think at least one step ahead of him.”

  “That’s not possible. We don’t know what he wants.”

  “That’s not entirely true. We planned for something like this as best we could. We knew that as long as George Clemente drew breath he would cause problems. That was never in doubt. It was only a question of when and how big of a problem.”

  “Then you should have seen this coming,” said Wallis, a tear rolling down her cheek.

  “The
re was no way to know exactly what he would do next. That was the issue. Knowing what he would try in the end. But we have someone on the inside. See? That is something no one wants you to know. They are worried you might slip and let that out. Tell Ned to make him feel better. But I know you, geliebtes kind,“ she said slipping into her native German for just a moment, letting down her own cover that she had protected so well, for so long.

  Wallis pulled her hands away, smoothing her hair back and wiping her nose on the sleeve of her beige woolen overcoat.

  “We’ll need help,” she said, picking up her briefcase from where it had fallen to the ground. She looked over at Father Donald and realized he was suffering more than anyone at the moment.

  “What happened?” she asked, using the same voice she used with Ned when she needed answers before something worse could happen.

  “They were waiting for us when we came out to the parking lot. Norman said his car radio was making a loud noise, like a tone, when he was driving to the church.”

  “You didn’t mention that,” said Esther.

  “It wasn’t relevant when we were trying to catch up to the van.”

  “What van?” asked Wallis, pulling out her phone.

  “A white van with three men inside from what I could tell. They had him inside and were speeding off in only a couple of minutes. I tried to fight them off,” he said, making it sound like an apology.

  “They trained for this, Donald,” said Esther. “You know that. There had to be weeks of preparation that they managed to hide from all of us. That includes our mole. If he had no hint of this, why should you be the magician that saves the day? This self pity is getting in our way. You could be very valuable if you could get over who was taken.” She leaned in and hissed, “Wallis is holding it together better than you are.” There was a note of disgust and regret in her voice.

  Father Donald looked up at Wallis as if he was trying to check just how well she was doing. Wallis didn’t want to tell him that she was still feeling relief over Norman being alive. There was a chance. She wasn’t letting herself think about the rest. There was time for that later.