Book Three: Part 6 - Facing Evil - Chapter 7

Monday – December 26th

The Ramada Inn – 8:30 a.m.

Daniel Weston checked into Room 131-A.

He hadn’t planned to be as secretive or vague about his visit with Baker, but because of an unknown insurance fraud on a policy that was uncovered, and hidden under wraps for a long time; he felt doing things this way without a lot of fanfare or just blurting out,

“Guess what? There is more money for you and you will never guess in a million years from who.”

Doing it this way would be much better. Ease the anxiety as well as the surprise, or most likely; the shock.

Tomorrow, he would arrive at her office, and explain the near-fatal mistake almost made.

After all, Daniel Watson wasn’t a man for making mistakes or doing the wrong thing. But after twenty-seven years in the insurance field, he had never seen anything as false in wrongdoing as this was, ever. In the end, it resulted in both attempted theft and fraud.

The Twenty-Second Precinct – 8:55 a.m.

Both stood in front of their respective lockers reading each other’s card.

Johnathan was the first to speak.

“Maybe, sounds good; sounds good to me. So, maybe lunch on me today?”

Dianne slowly smiled.

“How about lunch on a plate instead.”

“Deal.”

3:35 p.m.

Later that day, Daniel Watson drove around the city of Montie in his beige Volvo. For as quaint a city as it is, it still retained its architecture easily enough. As he drove, he noticed dozens of homes built up alongside the hilly region just a mile outside of downtown Montie. Many of the older homes and other buildings dated as far back as 1803, were still standing, and were listed as some form of historical reference.

Driving around, with help from his GPS, he located the Twenty-Second Precinct, a building made of brick, stone, and cinderblock. A three-story affair that must certainly have an interesting history of its own.

By the end of the day, he was exhausted. When he returned to his motel room, he called a restaurant that happened to deliver, and ordered Chinese. Then he stepped outside and walked to the gas station next to the motel and bought a two-liter bottle of Pepsi.

Tonight, it would just be him. He would be going over the paperwork again and have in order all the papers Lieutenant Baker would have to sign. Later he would watch a pay-per-view movie. He didn’t know which one, and he didn’t really care. It would be something to do before sleep came to tuck him away. Maybe Thor or Green Lantern.

Daniel wanted this to go smoothly so he could be home and be with Patrick. Even one day away from him, and already he wished he were home. He made up his mind he would call him before he watched a movie.

With any luck, by this time tomorrow, the Lieutenant would be pleased, a potential lawsuit averted, and he would be back in Patrick’s arms again.

4:17 p.m.

“Baker, here.”

“Lieutenant Janis Baker?”

“Yes, who’s calling?”

“This is Wesley Boyd with New York Home and Auto. I’m calling to inform you a check has finally been cut and is being sent on a two-day delivery, today. You should receive it no later than December twenty-eighth.

“I’m very sorry we didn’t get this taken care of sooner, but we had computer problems. Something about satellite connectivity down.”

“That’s quite all right, Mr. Boyd. If you could tell me the amount of the check, please.”

“Discounting age of both the vehicle and residence, and totaling everything you gave us a list of that was destroyed, plus we added an additional five-percent for items you may have remembered, it comes to $216,475.00. You will have to sign for the release of funds. Though the check will be mailed today, I do need a current address where it can be delivered.”

She gave him the new address but informed him that whoever would be delivering the check, was to call her and wait for her at home if she wasn’t there. “Because of my line of work, I can’t be expected to sit at home all day.”

Wesley Boyd’s response, “No problem. The courier can take any signature on your behalf that resides in the home. They will need to sign your name and overtop the signature, place their initials.”

She called Ed with the good news and made him aware of the twenty-eighth as well.

The holidays were certainly looking brighter for a change.

11:58 p.m.

An old, beat up Plymouth Fury pulled into the Lazy Rest Inn.

A black man, about fifty and bald with a thin graying herculean beard stepped out of the car.

His destination would eventually be Montie. He planned to drop in on an old friend from days gone by. In truth, not a friend at all, but this man, once known as Drey (pronounced Dray), whose real name is Reid Thurston, was just released from prison less than a year ago from an Atlanta Federal Prison, is looking for Fred Marsh.

Reid heard that Marsh had done well for himself, and Reid needed some money. He had no qualm in upsetting Marsh’s life if he didn’t give him some money. He didn’t want much; just twenty-grand and he’d be out of Marsh’s life before he could bat an eye.

Reid didn’t know that Marsh’s family and friends knew about his past. Marsh was released from prison nine years ago, started a construction business and married Jean, who is of course, the mayor of Montie,

Reid had a plan, and like all good plans, he had a backup plan.

A Walther P-327.