Harold and the Angel of Death
Gary McPherson
Charlotte, North Carolina
Copyright © 2019 by Gary McPherson
All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental.
Dedication
First, to my wife. Thank you for encouraging me to write.
Dream Raven Editing. Thank you for an incredible journey together with this novel. You always seem to understand exactly where my characters and stories are headed and help me get there in one piece.
Ebook Launch. Thank you for your amazing cover designs and wonderful work on the interior designs
My beta readers. Your fresh perspectives and insights take my stories to the next level.
My parents. Thank you for adopting me and giving me such an amazing childhood.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
Chapter 1
Harold stood over his father’s casket. The heavy mahogany coffin’s top was propped open. Tears flowed freely from Harold’s eyes and continued down his cheeks to his collar. Allowing himself to lose control, he bent over and wrapped his arms around his father’s lifeless body. Richard’s cold, dead cheek pressed against his own.
Harold blubbered and stammered, “I’m sorry, Dad.”
“That’s okay, Son.”
Harold released his grip and stumbled backwards. Something wet covered his hands. Lifting them up, he was horrified to see blood dripping from them. His shirt felt wet, and he found his chest covered in blood. When he looked around, the entertainment room no longer appeared warm and inviting with its tongue-and-groove pine walls and ceilings. Instead, it all looked pale, gray, cracked, and decaying. The glasses hanging from the bar began to vibrate and create a minor harmonic that sent chills through his body.
Harold turned and ran towards the dark doorway. He stumbled and bumped against the walls of the hallway. Maria’s bedroom was locked as was his childhood bedroom. He looked back and saw the gray room beginning to fade. Forced by fear, he pushed forward and began to beat on the walls and windows, hoping to burst through somewhere, but they held fast. When he reached the front door, Harold beat and pulled on the door. He roared, but his voice seemed to die out rather than reverberate.
A familiar creaking caught Harold’s attention further down the hall in the darkness. An odd thought crossed his mind. Are Joshua and Maria back from their honeymoon already? He stumbled forward and found Joshua’s office door closed. The door latch gently lowered beneath his thumb. Peeking into Joshua’s office, he found the lights off and the room dark. Dust and cobwebs hung from the corners of the ceiling and the sides of the computer monitors on his large desk. Another creak came from further down the dark hall. He turned and saw a light glowing from under his father’s office door. Harold rubbed his face, hoping to wake up, but the darkness remained. Another thought pierced his mind as he looked towards his father’s office. No, Dad’s gone. That’s my office. His fists clenched, and he stealthily made his way towards the end of the hallway. His large hand enveloped the handle on the office door, and he gently pushed it down.
As soon as he felt the handle click open, Harold burst into the room. He stopped short of his second step. Richard sat in his chair, and the office appeared as it once had. White oak wooden shelves lined the walls. Awards from his father’s life and trinkets from past adventures filled the room. A grotesque pink and maroon texture was spattered against the adobe-colored wall behind his dad, and his dad’s head appeared stuck to his chair.
“D…D…Dad?” Harold sputtered.
“Why did you fail me, Son? I trusted you to save the company.”
From behind him, John’s familiar whispered voice floated through the air, “What’s the matter, brat? Seen a ghost?”
Harold screamed and found himself looking up at the dark ceiling of his master bedroom. His large hands gripped the sheet and blankets. He jerked his head to the right to check the alarm clock on the stand next to the bed. Three in the morning clicked over as the grandfather clock began to toll. He held his breath, but the house remained silent. As he sat up, he turned on the lamp next to the bed.
He patted his cheeks to make sure he was awake this time and then looked around the lit room. Everything was as it should be. His large four-poster bed was covered in a blue wool blanket that had once resided in his childhood room. The floral chairs faced the fireplace, but his favorite bear rug had replaced his parents’ ornate red floor covering. The black of night painted the windows. Melancholy and relief filled his heart and mind. He missed his parents, but he was relieved the nightmare had been just that.
Joshua and Maria were still in Hawaii on their honeymoon, a wedding gift Harold had been more than happy to give them. After all, Joshua was like his second father. There was nothing he would not do for him. Harold imagined his mentor trying to bodysurf in the Hawaiian Pacific. A memory of Joshua, his father, and himself body surfing in Newport Beach brought a smile to his face.
Thanks to the time zones, Hawaii was three hours behind California. He entertained calling Joshua for a moment, but then a smile crept across his face. Either they are asleep, or I don’t want to interrupt. Then another idea popped into his head.
Chapter 2
Harold could hear the phone ringing on the other end of the line. It was early, but at least it was not the middle of the night in North Carolina. A groggy voice with a soft Carolina accent picked up on the third ring. “Hey, this is Adam.”
He felt his shoulders relax. “Doctor Murray, this is Harold. I hope I didn’t wake you up.”
He heard Adam clear his throat and then reply, “Oh, Harold, of course not, and call me Adam. It’s good to hear from you again.”
Harold stood up and walked over to a chair by the rock fireplace. He started to sit down but changed his mind and began to pace between the bed and the chair as he spoke. “Doc said I could call you if I needed help while he was gone. I started to call him first, but it’s midnight in Hawaii.”
He could hear Adam moving around and what sounded like a coffee maker just finishing in the background. “Did I interrupt your morning coffee?”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ve been making my morning coffee and talking with people for years. You’re no bother at all. So, tell me, what is happening with you?”
Harold walked out his bedroom door and made a right towards his office. The door was open, and the room was dark. “I’ve been having nightmares again. Did Joshua mention them to you?”
He turned on the light and relaxed as the office lit up, and his familiar
furniture was all sitting in place. His new, oversized office chair sat behind his father’s old desk. He had replaced the textured yellow and brown walls with a soft blue, and the tan Spanish tiles were replaced with an off-white. Although he had one shelf with trinkets and mementos from his childhood, the walls remained mostly bare. There was one sixteen by twenty photo of the family that hung on the wall next to the door, a reminder of happier times he could look up and see when he was working at his father’s desk.
“Yes, we have talked about your dreams. We’ve both been trying to figure out if they’re related to Joshua’s hypnotherapy treatments. I’ll be honest; I don’t think that’s the case. I think this has more to do with the trauma of losing your parents.”
Harold walked around the desk, and his fingers traced the bloodstained wood that could not be cleaned. He had considered stripping the wood down or possibly replacing the boards, but he wanted to remember the day his father died. His dad set him on a mission to stop the men who caused his death and to save the family’s defense company. So far, he had only succeeded in stopping the people responsible.
Sitting down in the chair, he finally responded to Adam. “Maybe it is about my parents, but I feel like I’ve dealt with that. Besides, it’s the killer that’s causing me to lose the most sleep. John’s plan to take over Dad’s company succeeded in partially destroying it. When it comes to new contracts, nobody will touch us. There are multiple congressional investigations, and all our existing contracts are temporarily frozen. It may not matter when they finally find the company is above board because we’ll be bankrupt long before then.”
Harold could hear Adam trying to quietly sip his freshly brewed java before speaking. “I saw your testimony on Capitol Hill. I’m not a big C-SPAN fan, but I found your performance riveting. I’m not sure I could have controlled myself as well as you did.”
“Well, it’s like I tell Doc, I have my temper under control now. I’m not a kid anymore.”
There was a quiet pause, and Harold wondered what Adam was doing. He was about to ask Adam if he was still there when Adam’s voice came through the receiver. “You do know your problem isn’t a temper issue? When you get angry, you have the ability to drive it up a few notches past a bad temper.”
Harold exhaled slowly and leaned back in his office chair. The cool air flowing over his pajamas was starting to make him sleepy now that he had somebody to talk to. “I know, but it isn’t like I turn green and become a CGI character. When I get that angry, it’s because I foresee a threat that’s serious enough that it has to be dealt with. I can’t help it if my size and strength intimidate people.”
Adam chuckled. “Well, you’re certainly no barbarian. In fact, I would say your parents and Joshua have turned you into quite the gentleman. If you heard what I was yelling at my television during the congressional hearing, you might be counseling me. Who were those house members to question you on your efforts to get Maria legal US residency? It isn’t as though she had a choice as a small child.”
“I didn’t take it as a slight against Maria or myself. All three congresspeople are up for re-election. One is in a liberal district that’s full of peaceniks. Questioning my integrity scores her some political points with the groups that hate weapon’s manufacturers. The other two are in tight races right now. Their districts are normally red but are changing to purple. If they can score political points with a perceived immigration issue, they will. I tried not to take it personally.”
An audible humph emitted from the phone. “Well, I can’t fault you there. I’m afraid my own temper would have gotten the better of me in that situation. I may need to seek Joshua’s advice if he has taught you that much self-control.”
“Joshua taught me to control my temper, but Dad taught me how to deal with politicians during my high school years. He told me if I wanted to work in the family business, I needed to learn those skills sooner rather than later.”
Harold thought he heard Adam rifling through papers and the scratching of a pencil. “Tell me, if your father was alive today, what advice do you think he would give you?”
He sat there for a moment contemplating the question. He hadn’t thought about what his dad would say. All he thought about was not failing and losing the company his late father had placed into his strong but inexperienced hands. “I’m not sure what Dad would say to me now. I know he wanted me to save his company. At least, that was what he had hoped for and was one of the reasons he took his life. He assumed I could stop John and keep everything going.”
Adam’s voice grew somber. “Your father’s plan didn’t work out the way he had hoped though. I don’t doubt he would still be alive if he had known the fallout from his decision.”
Harold sat and stared at the family photo for several seconds. He put his elbows on his desk and rested his head on his left palm. “I suppose that’s true. I guess that’s my problem. I don’t want his death to be in vain. Dad loved us, and he loved the company. He loved everyone who worked with him. If I fail, everything he tried to accomplish will be wiped out.”
Adam’s soft Southern drawl grew slower as he spoke, “Harold, your father didn’t expect you to take on saving the company alone. You have Tom, Joshua, Maria, and I would think all of the employees at Parabolic Defense Systems, backing your efforts. Besides, I’m sure your dad would be proud of the way you brought the men to justice that tried to destroy your family.”
“But they succeeded, don’t you see? Dad’s dead, and so is Mom. I’m an orphan again.”
“As I said, you still have Joshua and Maria.”
Harold stood up out of his chair, walked around his desk and began to pace. His left hand fluttered through the air as he voiced his frustration. “Yea, but I had Joshua when I was a little kid there at the orphanage in North Carolina. I mean, I sort of remember that. It’s more like an impression that Joshua has just always been in my life. This is just a problem I’ve never been able to shake since I was a kid. Everything I associate with the orphanage reminds me I’m an orphan. Now I feel like I’ve lost everything, and I’m back where I started. I’m alone in the world. There is Joshua, but one day he’ll be gone too.”
“But you’re not where you started. Look around you. Your parents left you with a nice place to live. Joshua has told me he and Maria love living across the road from you. You’re not alone, not really. I know you miss your parents, but we all outlive our parents, if God has mercy on them. No parent wants to outlive their child.”
Harold stopped pacing and stared at the large photo on the wall. Of course, Adam was right, but he wished he could be a kid again. Just a kid wrestling in the yard with his dad while Joshua and Barbara leaned against the old stucco walls of the house watching them and laughing. Tears pooled in his eyes, and his vision blurred as the salty liquid trailed down his cheeks. “Doc…I mean Adam, I just don’t know if I can do this.”
Adam’s voice increased slightly in volume and tone. “You don’t have to do anything. Just try your hardest and make the decisions you think are best for you and the business.”
“But what if I fail my dad?”
“With all due respect to your late father, he gave up the right to expect anything of you when he took his own life. I know his suicide was more complicated than a simple gunshot, but I don’t believe he expected you to carry all of this burden. From what Joshua tells me, he loved you very much, and no father who loves his son would do such a thing.”
Harold felt weak and a bit dizzy. He walked over and dropped down into his office chair. “I suppose you’re right. I guess I’m just tired of waking up alone in this big house. If I lose the company, I might lose a lot of friends and maybe even my standing in the community. Right now, it feels like that’s all I have left in this world.”
“That isn’t true. Joshua and Maria are still a part of your family, and of course, you have my friendship. Nobody is alone unless they choose to be.”
Adam’s concerned voice spoke up after several sec
onds of awkward silence. “Are you still there?”
“Yea, sorry, I was just thinking about what you said. You may be oversimplifying my situation, but you’re right. I’m not alone. Still, I need to try and do what I can to save this company. Many families’ livelihoods are on the line. I understand I may not owe anyone anything for my father’s mistake, but that doesn’t change my responsibilities. If the board decides to trust me enough to run the company, I need to live up to their trust.”
“Fair enough,” said Adam.
“I appreciate our talk. I have a board meeting this morning, and you have helped make things a bit clearer.”
“Anytime, Harold. I think I’ll go grab myself a second cup of coffee and start my day.”
Harold looked at the metallic star-shaped clock on the side wall of his office. He had picked it up from a trinket shop in the middle of the desert on a college road trip to Palm Springs. It was 4:30 a.m. How had the time gone by so quickly? Harold said his goodbyes and hung up the phone. The fear of the nightmare had left him, but his mind now raced with his to-do list for the board meeting in a few hours. The board would certify him as CEO today. Once that was decided, it would be up to him to encourage the best minds to come up with suggestions to pull the company out of its tailspin.
He left his office and made himself some coffee. He sat down at the kitchen table and wished Joshua was there to bounce ideas off. His eyes trailed over to the kitchen island and to the bullet hole that remained in the wooden cabinet. A dark thought crossed his mind, John, I hope you’re burning in hell. If you were alive, I’d kill you all over again.
He frowned and took a sip of his coffee. This was not helping. He needed to let go of the past, but everywhere he looked something seemed to haunt him. When Joshua and Maria returned, he would get them to help redecorate the kitchen. Harold got up and strolled through the dark family room. Stepping out the French doors, he could barely see the Pacific, which looked as black as his world. As he watched, the stars in the sky above slowly surrendered to the early morning gray of the sun that hid below the mountains on the eastern horizon behind him.
Harold and the Angel of Death Page 1