Another Deception (7 page)

“Purcell was murdered and no, it was not the random burglary with some retard, it was reported to be. I would however, like to keep you and me alive, at least until I retire the first of the year. Dig and find out all you want, but I am telling you right now, you best keep it to yourself what you find out. All you going to get from me to start you off is, this. President Woodrow Wilson said something about a secret society once, one that is very much still around and headed by the devil himself.”

     Curious, Frank waited. He was excited to have gotten this far. He figured it would have taken much longer.

“…there is a power so organized, so subtle, so complete, and so pervasive, that they had better not speak above their breath when they speak in condemnation of it.”

     Cranford straightened up and rubbing his face, feeling the ever-appearing stubble. Frank, watching him, felt further excitement for he knew there was much more the other man could tell him. He also knew how dangerous this could be for Cranford to share his findings with a newcomer. He wished things were different but it was what it was.

“Woodrow Wilson, huh?
Sure, I remember him! From the History books of course, Democrat, twenty-eighth president of the USA. Yep, he sure was a good one too. Didn’t he win the Nobel Peace Prize?”

     Cranford shook his head. He hoped the man had something beside book smarts. He went over to his own desk and sat down and grumbled,

“Now, if you will let me, I got a report which was supposed to be finished hours ago.”

     Frank admitted guiltily,

“Oh, about that, Sandra said Captain was asking for it. I was supposed to tell you but forgot. Sorry!”

     All he got in return was a grunt.

     Without committing himself, Cranford had just let him know that he was more in tune with things going on than one might think. If he had any idea about why he
was passed over
for the captain slot, Frank was sure he would still be shocked.  

     The quote Cranford gave him was a good indication that he knew more about the connection between these strange events and the people belonging to a group that was not only so secretive, but literally hundreds of years old and was responsible for promoting the One World System. Frank looked over at the older man and itched to tell him what he knew. Not yet, maybe one day, but
not yet.

     He had practically begged to be in this particular department. It was perfect for carrying out
his own
agenda. His superiors were against it at first, thinking him too emotionally involved, but finally he convinced them that he could keep his personal feelings to himself and he was more than qualified to work to expose one of the worse satanic groups ever to exist. Having done his homework and waited what seemed a lifetime, he was more than ready for some action; action he felt was soon to come.                                       

43

                                             Another Deception

7

   
I
t rained all weekend but the partying at the fairgrounds
continue
. Porches were overflowing with people and umbrellas in abundance as many stood, even in the downpour, to visit. Looking from an upstairs window of any given cabin one could see a blanket of colors covering the narrow streets.
Each dot of color shielding one or more people from the rain.
The Wells cabin was no different from many of
its
neighbors. Men laughed and talked on the porches while some
strummed
on guitars, bellowing out a tune every
once in a while
. It was common to hear
the whine of a harmonica or even the forlorn wail of a flute floating from the crowds of houses.

    
By Sunday evening, the sun was trying to shine and Jacks had lost his enthusiasm for the fair. He was glad he had not taken off the rest of the week from work and was anxious to get back to his job. He would continue to return to the fair cabin in the evenings, as Honey was off the duration of the fair and their own house was full of guests.

     His mind continually dwelt on the box and its contents, which was safely stored in their bedroom. Honey arranged to have it delivered to her friend by special carrier first thing Monday and at least then he would know if the section of a finger belonged to a living woman who would likely be his mother…or not.

      His conversations with God had certainly increased over the last few days and though he was a new convert, he was growing every day in the Word. Dwight told him that for someone who had never believed in God, he sure was a fast learner. The fact was he and Honey both made it a priority to devote a large amount of their home time to study time. Sometimes they would have study partners come over and sometimes it would just be the two of them. Dwight told them many times not to take his or any man’s word for anything, when they would come to him with questions about things in the Bible.

     Monday came and went without incident. The rain quit and by evening, one would never know it had even rained. Jacks spent the day at the office and accomplished a lot of work in between appointments. 

     His mind kept going back to the contents of the box and he wondered if he were truly ready for the truth or if Asa could produce any truth concerning his heritage. He did not doubt for a minute that this could be a trick, but he also knew it was entirely possible that his mother was involved with Asa somehow, or why else would he be so interested in him.

     On Thursday, the results were in. It was the last day of the fair and Honey got the phone call midday. Her friend had worked exclusively on this without stopping until it was finished. Evan was an old school friend of Honey’s and she trusted him explicitly, so when he called and told her the results, she had no doubt it was a true finding. She thanked him and told him that they would have lunch soon to catch up then she sat quietly for a minute.
What next?
She could not help but to wonder how this development was going to affect their lives. She did not trust Asa and wished the test had proved to be negative but it had instead, proved that whoever that finger belonged to, was 99.9% positively Jacks’ biological mother!
Dear God!
What will happen now?
Knowing that he was waiting anxiously for the results, she dialed his number.

     After talking to her, Jacks hung the phone up and sat back in his chair. His emotions were conflicting. His entire life he had spent wishing for a family. When he thought Asa was part of the family he missed, he was thrilled. Even when, after only a few trips to the stone house and he realized the man was ‘strange,’ he clung to the fact that he
was related
to another human. Now he was not sure what to believe. The lab test proved he had a mother who was alive, at least when the samples
were taken
and that it was recent.  Was she a willing participant of
Asa’s
evil or was she being held against her will, hypnotized as the many people he witnessed in the mountains were.

    Tormented by the images flashing through his mind, Jacks paced the office floor as if the more steps he took the less pain he would feel.
What to do now?
He questioned himself but had no answer. When evening came and he was leaving, he still had no answer. After talking way into the night with Honey, he was only sure that he wanted her to be safe and no matter what, she was his primary concern.

    It was Friday when they returned home. It was going to feel good to sleep in their own bed and Jacks had to admit that it was the home he never had growing up and Honey was his family. All that was lacking was children, a bunch of them.

“You know Honey, I never saw me like this. Married, with a wife I truly adore and believing in something I never dreamed I would believe in. That Jesus Christ is God come in the flesh and He died so that I may have everlasting life with Him. I never saw me as a Christian, period. Now look at me!”

    Honey smiled,

“You and me both!”

“There is one other thing that would make me even happier.”

“And, that is?”

“Lots of kids.”

“It is not like we’re not trying, silly. Sometimes these things take time.”

“It has been four months already. Look at Dwight and Sheila. They got pregnant right away! Maybe I will not be able to have children.”

   Honey maneuvered around to where she could see his face, a worried look on her own. They had discussed this and both agreed they wanted children.

“Darling is this about the lab results?”

“No…well maybe it is. I have just been thinking that if this woman does exist, and I stress
the if
, then she has survived all these years and if I interfere, I may be putting her at risk. I figure if I leave her alone then I am no worse off than I ever was, actually I am better off because now I have you!”

“You are not going to respond to Asa on this?”

“I am thinking not.”

“Hmmm.”

   Honey sighed, though she would have liked it to be a sigh of relief, she felt none. There was an old saying around the country she felt was true…’this dog will come back to bite’…and she was afraid this was one of those dogs. For now though, she wanted to be of comfort to her husband and take his mind off anything dreary so she teased,

“Want to try for that baby again?”

   Laughing, he was quick to respond, accepting her offer enthusiastically.

8

“
W
atch yourself there Frank!”

     Cranford’s husky voice warned as they were moving down an ally way and Frank had stumbled and almost fell. Cranford’s body was so close that he fell against him instead.

“You okay?”

     Frank muttered an affirmative answer and kept moving. A tip had come into the office that there was going to be some sort of activity going on in an old empty warehouse on Forty-Four and Twenty-Ninth Street. They were going to find a good place to wait until the allotted time. Cranford winced at the thought of hunkering down for any length of time but then a stakeout was not supposed to be fun. If things
went
the way they were thinking it would, at the end of this night they would know much more than they did now. A secret meeting, the man had said, one with some highly profiled people. Names to add to the short list they already had after investigating this group for the last two weeks.

     The break came when an anonymous person left a disguised voice mail on Cranford’s desk phone. No trace and no way of knowing if it was bogus or not, but if it was for real it would definitely help the case they were working on. Frank could barely contain his excitement at the break.

    Locating the building, they found a way in and placed a camera in an obscure spot, with a wide lens set for automatic filming, then found themselves a place to hunker down and wait. It was not easy staying quiet, for there could be no exchange of words.

     An hour passed, then two. Darkness descended and the two men barely moved for another good hour before they heard a distinct noise, indicating their wait may have ended. 

    First came two dark clad figures, hoods covering their heads so that they could not tell if they were male or female. Those two walked from one end of the building to the other, obviously checking to make sure their meeting would be a private affair.

     Cranford and Frank barely breathed as the two came up the stairs where they were hiding. As they were professionals, they had done their job well building their hiding place within boxes and round containers of old stored stuff. Even when one of the figures pulled the large piece of velvet, left over from a long gone stage curtain, off the boxes, they did not move a muscle. Finally satisfied, the two scouts headed back down the stairs and within a few minutes, candles were glowing in the dark down below. Hundreds were flickering in the dark before thirty to forty people begin to enter, surrounding a long and bare table. Even with dim lighting both Cranford and Frank could see it had no chairs around it to sit in. Only Frank knew the indication that it would be used as
an alter
.

     They felt each other’s tension, realizing they had a bingo on this one. Most calls of this sort generally turned out to be prank but this was the real thing.

     Frank wiggled, as if two inches would help him to identify just one of the people down below them. He counted thirty-three but if they did not get more than a bunch of people dressed in black standing around in a circle, they had wasted good time for nothing. After all, there was this thing about freedom of religion,
even if it was one that they did not particular care for
. Something told him that there was more to come and he was right.

    Another dark clad figure entered, carrying a child dressed in white, followed by another one dressed in deep red. The person carrying the child walked through the crowd as the people parted to make way then closed the gap back again as the new comers approached the table and the child was laid gently on it. He could not have been more than six but showed no signs of fear, rather seeming to enjoy the attention he was getting. It was then Cranford realized the table was
an alter
and what was about to happen. He moved as if he were going to move forward, when Frank grabbed his arm in a vice like grip vigorously shaking his head. They were too far off to save the child and as hardhearted as it seemed, it was more important to get evidence and save a hundred more just like him.

     It was over quickly. At least the sacrificial part was. What came after was the hardest to watch, but both men were unable to take their eyes off the unbelievable scene, which unfolded below them. 

     Cranford tried to contain his sickness, but threw up right where they were and for a while, they were afraid someone would spot them but the people below were so enraptured with what they were doing that they were safe from being found out. However, it made for a very uncomfortable hour of waiting for the people to leave.

     Once away from the warehouse building, Cranford stopped dead in his tracks and with one good punch, sent Frank to the ground. As Frank rubbed the spot where the other man’s fist made contact with his jaw, he supposed it was time to have a sincere talk with his partner.

“I am going to get up now Cranford, but I will not fight you.”

“If you letting my age stop you, don’t! I am going to whip your black self all over this street! We could have saved that boy! Why
didn’t
we save that boy?  Tell me one good reason you would not help me save him!
Just one!”

     His nostrils flared with the hardcore rage he was feeling. He stood over his partner wanting to hit him again and begging him to get up, so that he could.

     Frank felt sorry for Cranford and was sorry he had to witness what he had. It was not easy for him either, but now was not the time for self-pity.

“Fine, I will explain, but first put away your boxing gloves or I swear I am going to sit here all night, man!”