The Night Gods II- Chapter XI: On The Carpet

richq11 (72)in #fiction • 7 years ago (edited)

Art by @marty-art on Steemit... With many thanks!

The Welbournes kept a townhouse in DC from the days when Sean's dad was in the Diplomatic Corp. Sena's family was one of those prominent scions of New England society... Summer homes on Martha's Vineyard and another in the Hamptons. They had made their fortune in shipping and banking before moving to Wall St. Like his father, Sean had followed in his father's footsteps going to Yale for Law School. To his father's disappointment, Sean had opted for Cornell for his undergrad... his father like his father before him had been Skull & Bones something Sean loathed with every fiber of his being. He had agreed to Yale Law to please his dad, but drew the line at the secret society.

Sean hadn't ventured out much since his confrontation with Denning, preferring to stay locked away in the townhouse. He was down, depressed. He wanted nothing more to do with Denning or the campaign. The very idea of serving a savage like Denning sickened him. He was evil, Saen could sense it... and he was certain that Denning was behind the death of Melissa, the campaign volunteer and Sean wouldn't be at all surprised if he had something to do with the death of his own wife. There was something malignant about the man, he practically smelled of death and corruption. The more he thought, the more depressed Sean got. He had just gotten another cup of coffee and sat down to read the morning Post when the doorbell rang... it was Przybysz.

"Can I help you?" He asked.

"May I at least come in?" Asked the burly man. "You're not going to make me stand out in the cold are you?"

"Come on in," Sean said reluctantly. He wanted nothing to do with Lockhart's man. "What is it you want?"

"I'll get right to the point," said Przybysz. "Mr. Lockhart wants a talk with you."

"About what?" Sean was suspicious. Why would he send a goon, why not just call?

"I'm sure I don't know," Przybysz lied.

Bullshit, thought Sean. he knew but it was useless to ask further. "When?"

"Right away, if that's alright. I have a car outside." Przybysz stood like a rock. It was obvious that 'no' wasn't an option.

"And if it isn't?" Asked Sean testing the other's resolve.

Przybysz smiled: "That's up to you, but if it were me..."

"Ok," Sean answered resignedly. "Give me a minute to get dressed."

"Take your time," said Przybysz still smiling. The prick is enjoying this, thought Sean.

They made the ride in silence. Lockhart had an office in Washington, on K St.- Lobbyist Row. Przybysz dropped Sean off in front and left much to Sean's relief. When he entered the pretty receptionist told him that Mr. Lockhart was expecting him. I'll bet he is, thought Sean.

"Sean," Lockhart said with a smile,"glad you could come. I suppose you're wondering why I asked you here."

"To tell the truth, I am a little surprised what you could possibly have to say to me," he said.

"You know your dad and I go way back," Lockhart said. "We were friends at college- fraternity brothers."

"Yes, I know... Bonesmen all, or something like that," Sean said sarcastically.

"Exactly like that. Your dad was a good man and a good friend, Sean. I was sorry to see him go," Lockhart said sincerely. "How's your mom, I haven't seen her but a few times since the funeral."

"She's fine... she stays busy with her charities. Look, Mr. Lockhart, you didn't call me here to ask about my mom- you could have called her... or me for that matter." Sean's impatience was beginning to show.

"Please sit down, Sean," Lockhart said pleasantly. "There is a reason I asked you here... It's about your relationship with Alan Denning."

"Relationship... What relationship" Sean asked crossly. "I don't want any more to do with him, the man's a barbarian. I only agreed to stay on in name only, so to speak... to avoid the appearance of disention. After the election I never want to see him again."

"It's really after the election I wanted to talk to you about," said Lockhart. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead," said Sean already knowing what it was.

"What happened that made you want to quit?" Lockhart wanted to know.

"Truthfully, I think he was behind the death of that girl, Melissa Womack and maybe even his wife. Can I ask a question in return?"

"Of course," Lockhart assured him.

"Just what's your interest in Denning?" Sean asked.

"What do you mean by interest?" Lockhart feigned puzzlement.

"C'mon, Lockhart. I'm not an idiot," Sean said looking unflinchingly at the older man. "That goon Przybysz is everywhere Denning is and everybody knows that he's your muscle. You must have Denning on a short leash... that means he screwed up big time- am I getting warm? And, while we're at it, why did you send for me- I don't work for you."

"Ok, Ok," Lockhart held out his hands, palms out. "You win, take it easy son. Look, my associates and I have a vested interest in seeing him win. You've seen that other clown... he's a hick. Let's say that Denning will provide an environment favorable to business. If your father..."

"Leave my father out of this," Sean cut him off. "I'm not my father... he's dead and he has nothing to do with this. This is between you and me."

"Ok, Sean, Ok," Lockhart said. "Look, Sean, the truth is we need you... Denning needs you to give him some stability."

"You mean to give him some respectability. You just want to cash in on my family's name, not me." Sean was visibly angry, something he had not wanted to happen. He had no intention of being used by the likes of Denning.

"Sean, you HAVE to do this for us, think about your mother." Lockhart stood feet firmly planted looking through Sean- the threat was clear, he didn't have to put it into words.

"What do you want?" Sean asked resignedly.

"Stay on... and after the election- who knows Press Secretary," Lockhart said. "Look Sean, I don't want to be enemies- our families go way back. Think of this as a favor... not just to me, but for the whole country."

"Oh. no," Sean said. "I'll stay until after the election, but after that..."

"Maybe I wasn't clear, before," Lockhart said firmly.

"What about your boy Przybysz, why not make him Press Secretary?" Sean asked. "Surely he can control Denning... if anyone can."

"He's an idiot, like you said, muscle. He's useful- he gets things done." Lockhart smiled wryly.

"I noticed," said Sean.

"Then you'll stay?" Lockhart asked.

"Do I have a choice?" Sean asked grimly.

"Don't take it so hard son, It won't be so bad," Lockhart said reassuringly. "We're all friends here, working toward the same goal."

"The man's an animal," Sean spat out.

"What do you think it takes to be president... some nice guy with a vision? That may work in the movies, but in real life..."

"Ok, you got me," Sean didn't feel like hearing the speech.

"You won't regret it son. I'll call my car to take you home."

"Thanks," Sean said... he already regretted it.

The Night Gods II- Chapter X: Stonewalled Part 2
4 days ago
richq11 68 in fiction
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Artwork by @marty-art on Steemit... With many thanks!

Despite the pleas of Lockhart's many emissaries, Bret remained resolute. He would not return unless the terms of his contract were strictly adhered to... absolute autonomy in selection of subject matter, as well as presentation. It was a classic impasse- neither side budging. Shoemaker may be unemployed, but he was not uncommitted. Both he and Lena, who had taken a leave of absence, continued their quest to learn the unvarnished truth behind the deaths of Melissa and Maureen Denning- interference from Lockhart's minions or not. Bret had spent the morning scouring computer files for murders similar to Mrs. Denning's gruesome demise when he stumbled on something. There was nothing that matched or even resembled that particular modus operandi in the DC area but then he came across the grizzly death of a young woman in Boston. Apparently, the victim, a young woman, barely more than a girl really, had been eviscerated in a similar manner and hung with her own intestines while still conscious. Bret shuddered while reading the macabre details...

"Lena, come take a look at this," he said.

Lena looked at the screen, shaking her head as she read. "Unbelievable," she said in amazement.

"This is very similar, but it's hundreds of miles away," Bret said. "And they caught the guy."

"What's this," Lena asked reaching for the mouse. She began scrolling down speaking as she went. "It says here that he was released from prison after 16 years... that the Governor gave him a pardon."

"Yeah, but that guy's got to be in his 70's by now," Bret offered. They looked at each other shaking their heads. "It can't be," he said.

They were reading the rest of the article when Lena's cellphone began ringing. "Blocked number,"she said looking at Bret, who could see the fear in her eyes.

"Don't answer. See if they leave a voicemail." Bret had a plan... to get a record of the call- something they could take to the police. He wasn't disappointed.

"Listen you fucking bitch," the muffled voice began. "It you want to stay alive and healthy, you better back the fuck off this Melissa Womack shit. And you can tell your fucking boyfriend he can be got to as well... any more digging and you're both fucking dead- got it!"

"What do you want to do with this?" Lena asked her eyes still fearful.

"We're taking this to the cops and see what they say." Bret got up. "I don't trust them for shit and this will tell us just whose side they're on... If my suspicions are right, they'll just blow us off. At least we'll know where we stand."

On the way, they discussed just how much to let on to the police about what they had found. They agreed not to mention Melissa or Mrs. Denning unless the cops brought it up first... they would play it off as a case of Bret assisting lean in a matter pertaining to Senator Ashby. When they arrived at DCMP Headquarters, they were directed to the detective bureau where they were greeted by a Det. Walsh. Walsh listened halfheartedly to Lena's voicemail before asking: "Can you give me some background... anything pertaining to what this is in reference to?"

"I work for Senator Ashby. I'm his Executive Assistant and I was doing some background work for him. I asked Bret... Mr. Shoemaker to assist me- he has access to information I don't."

Walsh looked suspiciously at Bret. "You mean somebody has been threatening the Senator? The Secret Service handles things like that, it's not a DCMP matter." He looked at Lena and back to Bret. He wasn't buying the cover.

"No," Lena said. "This isn't about Senator Ashby directly."

"Well what then?" Walsh asked impatiently. "You're not giving me anything at all to go on. Is there somebody you suspect making the calls?"

Lena looked at Bret and then back at Walsh. "I guess it's probably nothing. I think we made a mistake coming here."

"Yeah," Walsh agreed. "It's probably just some crank anyway. Didn't Ashby just run for president?"

"Yes," Lena said trying to sound casual. "He lost in the primary."

"Well, there it is," Walsh shrugged and waved his hand dismissively. "Probably just some crazy supporter disappointed he lost and blames you. Or, more likely somebody that supported that other guy- the one that's wife got killed and blames the senator. I wouldn't worry about it... you probably got nothing to worry about."

"Thanks for your time detective," Bret stood and held out his hand. On the way to Bret's SUV, Lena reached out and touched his sleeve.

"What did you think about that guy?" she asked.

"Not much," he said. "He didn't seem to give two shits if we get killed or not... he seemed more interested in getting us the hell out of there." Bret's bullshit meter was going off the chart. He didn't trust the police anyway and this guy in particular, but he didn't want to scare Lena... she was already scared enough.

"He scared me Bret, something about his voice... and the way he looked at me gave me the creeps. I'm more scared now than before... I can't put it into words, I just am."

That made up Bert's mind for him. He was starting to really like Lena and he had promised to keep her safe. When they got back to the townhouse he would make a call. Lena was quiet on the way home, she seemed lost in thought. When they were safely inside Bret got out his old phone book and made the call.

"Jack here," said the voice on the other end.

"Jack?" Something wasn't right. The voice was right but the name was wrong. "I'm sorry..."

"Hold on," said the voice. "Shoe? Sorry... I had to check my caller ID. Still not blocking your number?"

"Dick, is that you?" Bret had recognized the accent right off. "What's with this Jack business... new personna?"

There was a short laugh. "What's wrong my old friend?"

"How do you know something's wrong" Maybe I just called to say hi." Bret said trying to keep the panic he was feeling out of his voice.

"I haven't heard from you for years... and you wouldn't have called if nothing was wrong. I know you better than that," Dick/Jack shot back.

"You're right... and I need your help," Bret said not caring if his old friend sensed the fear.

"How bad is it?" Dick wanted to know.

"Pretty bad... really bad, Dick. Bad enough that I called you. I think our lives are in danger," Bret was aware that he probably sounded frantic but he was beyond caring.

"Can't go to the police... or you finally wising up?"

"Already did... DCMP- that's a lot of why we're scared," Bret told his old friend.

"Ah," Dick replied, "as fine a bunch of liars, murderers and thieves as there ever was. We?" Dick asked.

"Lena and I," Bret answered. "She's Senator Ashby Executive Assistant."

"Ashby, I've heard of him. Supposed to be one of the good guys... How can I help?"

"I think we need some protection- someone to look out for us... someone with your particular skills. How busy are you?" Bret played the voicemail on Lena's phone. "We took this to the police. They said not to worry about it."

"They blew you off after hearing this? Buddy, you got more trouble than you think. I don't mean to scare you, but it sounds to me like the DCMP are part of the problem," Bret's friend told him grimly.

"Thanks, I feel so much better now," Bret said sarcastically. "How busy are you?" he repeated.

"Not too bad right now," Dick said. "Just got some folks out of a jam up in Boston... some really fucked up conspiracy. Maybe we can help each other... this isn't something that goes away. I picked up a couple of assistants up there myself- my network's growing. How's your finances?"

"I'm out of a job, but have savings, why?" Bret asked.

"Don't worry," Dick laughed. "I don't want your money. I just wanted to know if you've got enough to rent us a house near you."

"Oh, sure. That's not a problem. Where are you?" Bret asked. How soon can you get here?

"Arkansas... and how soon do you need us?" Dick responded. "Jim and Ann, the Dawsons, have a couple of kids in school... my ex can look after them. Ann's brother Dave will be coming. He's the one that broke the conspiracy up in Boston, but it's nationwide. There will be four of us in all."

"Cool bro. Thanks, can you be here by morning?' Bret laughed. "I feel better already."

"I'll see you in a couple of days. That will give you a chance to find a house. Try to stay alive that long." Dick replied. "And you better figure on your electronics being monitored." Dick gave his friend instructions on going dark. "If you need me- email me here."

While Bret was busy on the phone, Lena was busy herself. When he hung up, she began.

"I got an email, Bret," she said.

"Threats?" he asked.

"No, it's from Melissa's mom. She says she has a letter from Melissa... it must have been delivered while she and her husband were at the funeral." Lena went on: "It describes what happened between Melissa and Denning. We've got the proof Bret," she said with a smile. It was the first time he had seen her smile in a long while... it felt good.

"I got news too," he said. "I just contacted an old friend. He's going to come and look out for us. He used to be some kind of spook or something... an ex-sniper. I don't know all of it- he won't say and I'm not sure I want to know. I just know I'll feel a whole lot better when he gets here. he wants us to find him a house nearby." Bret could see the relief in Lena's face. "I think we should back off until they get here."

"They?" Lena asked. "He's not coming alone?"

"No, he's got a husband and wife he just helped out of trouble, Jim and Ann something... and her brother. he says he needs our help on something too. Dick's a guy with a lot of connections- he's got like a whole network. It'll be good to see him again. You'll like him... just wait."