In Case of Death (The Adventures of Gabriel Celtic Book 3) (5 page)

“So, what happened? Why are you here and not out west?”

“Well sir! Tell you the truth…I was bored stiff. I wasn’t cut out to be a shop owner. I left the program a month ago.”

“What about the danger?” I asked, a little worried, “Aren’t you afraid someone will come after you?”

Thoughts of dealing with the mob or worse in our little county quickly crossed my mind. There is no way I wanted to be a party to anything like that.

“The guy they are looking for no longer exists Mr. Celtic, I am officially dead. I look different too…plastic surgery…except for the scar, I made them leave it. Their guy that gave me this…the one they sent to kill me…well, he’s dead. He was the only one in their organization that knew of it, and only for a few minutes before I…disposed of him. As long as I stay off the radar, there isn’t any reason to believe they would ever find me.”

I was highly conflicted. The guy seemed genuine in his offer to help, but as with most things in life, he came with his own unique set of baggage. It always seemed to come down to the decision of whether it was worth taking on the baggage. Besides, I wasn’t sure we actually needed help, and told him so.

“I’m not sure how busy we can keep you Preacher. Besides, it’s going to be hard to pay you without a last name.”

His smile revealed a set of perfect teeth, probably an added benefit of the cosmetic work he had mentioned.

“I’ve already thought of that Mr. Celtic.”

“Gabriel is fine…or Gabe.”

“Why thank you Gabriel,” Preacher said with a grin, “It’s a fine angelic name you have, one of the reasons I first noticed you by the way. As I was saying, I have already thought of a solution for the money problem…you don’t need to pay me.”

I wasn’t sure I had heard him correctly.

“I don’t need to pay you? How will you live?”

“Oh, I get a retirement of sorts from my last job. I have to go out of town every month or so to meet someone to get it. If you can see your way to paying my expenses, gas and such, that’s really all that I need. Of course…it would have to be cash. And if you don’t have any work periodically, so be it. I have hobbies.”

That struck me as funny and I grinned. The bartender was refilling our cups, and I was using the interruption to think about Preacher’s offer. He did seem to have a lot to offer, and he seemed to have thought through most of the negatives. With the multistate characteristics of this current case, it was starting to look like we could use some help.

“I assume you can tail someone better than you did today?” I asked with a smile on my face.

Preacher busted out in laughter at that, taking a moment to recover before answering.

“Yessir…I wasn’t trying to hide from you, just looking for a good opening.”

I sat there for a few more minutes, sipping my coffee as I mulled over his proposition. He definitely wasn’t licensable as a Private Detective with the state, but anyone could work under my license if they weren’t a felon. Being off the books, I guessed we could classify him an informant if it ever came up.

He also seemed more than willing to work with us on details. It definitely would be nice to have the extra help once in awhile, but there was more to it than that for me. It seemed that I felt a certain kinship to this misplaced soul. He had done his job, but something had inadvertently gone wrong, forcing him into a life not of his choosing.

Although I had made the choice to go to South America when Betty had been killed, ultimately, I really had no choice at all. I couldn’t just stick around and exist…much like Preacher’s bookstore experience I guess.
(2)

“I’m inclined to bring you in Preacher, but I need to talk it over with my partner. Do you have a phone number so that I can get in touch with you later?”

“Sure do! Do you have a piece of paper?”

I pulled my notebook out of my pocket, but couldn’t find a pen.

“I’ll have to get a pen at the bar…” I started, when a pen magically appeared in his hand. I wasn’t sure, but it seemed like he had pulled it out of his Bible in some way.

As he was writing down his number, I took a closer look at the book now lying on the table. By the time he scooted the notebook back to me, I was still unable to discern where the pen had come from.

The brightness outside was a stark contrast to the darkness of the bar we had just left, and I had to squint for a few moments before I could see. Offering my hand to Preacher when we reached the cars, he happily grabbed it with a firm grip.

“I’ll be in touch with you this afternoon, tomorrow at the latest. It was nice meeting you Preacher.”

“Likewise Gabriel…I hope we will be working together soon.”

As I drove out of the lot and back towards home, I reflected some more on the stranger in the Road Runner. I had found him determined, knowledgeable, and quirky.

He was a perfect fit!

Thinking back once more to the magically appearing pen, I determined that it must be true what they say.

The Good Book can supply your every need.

Chapter 12

September 15, 1999

My mind was back on the case as I pulled into the driveway at the house. Walking up to the front door, I heard giggling from inside.

Sounded like Nate was here.

Walking into the kitchen, I found Abby and her beau sitting next to each other at the table eating lunch…or more like feeding each other lunch.

Abby grinned when she saw me and came over to give me a hug.

“Morning Gabe! You ready for lunch?”

I hadn’t realized that it was so late, but my stomach gave me a sudden reminder as I nodded my head.

“Sounds great! What are we having?”

“Just bologna,” Abby said as she headed toward the counter, “But it’s from the deli, and it’s excellent! Fresh tomatoes too!”

My mouth was watering…I really was hungrier than I had thought.

Patting Nate on the shoulder as I sat down, I asked him how everything was going. He still worked as an investigator with Allen Vanguard, the county prosecutor…my old job. Actually, before I had quit suddenly last year, we had both been employed there at the same time for a short while.
(1)

Although I had little firsthand knowledge of his skills as an investigator, from what I had heard he was pretty good at his job. We infrequently discussed cases that he was working on during his visits, but mostly he was Abby’s boyfriend in this house.

Most of the time, he made her extremely happy. That gave him an A+ rating in my book.

Abby set a beautiful sandwich in front of me then. Thanking her, I dug into the delicious combination, having to wipe tomato juice off my chin between bites.

“How was your meeting?” Abby asked as we finished up our meals. “Get us a new case?” she asked hopefully. She was as anxious for a “real” case as I was.

“I believe so,” I said guardedly. We didn’t openly discuss active cases with Nate, and he was ok with that. If prosecutor involvement was deemed necessary however, he was our go-to guy for that.

Since Allen Vanguard and I had known each other for years, I considered him a friend. But with the ending of our working relationship last year, our friendship was strained to say the least.

I had decked him in his office, laid him out unconscious over something he had said about Abby. Although he had eventually apologized for the error in his thinking, we were both hesitant to fully invest in each other again.

“Well, I’d better get out of here,” Nate said with a smile, “So you can discuss the case.”

Abby grinned at this, saying she would walk him out.

As he said goodbye and walked out with Abby, I focused my mind back on the case. Pulling out my notebook, I started going over the notes of the morning as Abby came back into the house.

“So, what are we looking at?” She exuded excitement as she sat next to me and looked down anxiously at my notes.

“Nothing much, multiple murders, multiple states, all killed overseas.”

“Cool!” Abby exclaimed.

“Two of the widows are friends of mine…they are the ones hiring us.”

“Dammit, I’m sorry Gabe…I didn’t mean…”

I smiled and shrugged at her exuberance, “Hey, there was no way you could know.”

“It’s just an exciting sounding case is all,” she continued in explanation, her face red.

I moved the notebook over toward her and started going over the facts as I knew them, including the fact that my old friends had figured this out themselves.

“Smart ladies,” Abby said with admiration. “It looks pretty certain to me that there really is something here, but I guess there is still room for coincidence.”

“The longer I think about it, the less coincidental it seems to me,” I started. “I thought maybe you could run their names through the national database at the sheriff’s office. These men are all executives though, I really don’t think you will find much there.”

“I bet I can find plenty on the internet though,” Abby said with excitement. “I’ll get started on it right away!”

Getting up from the table, she started for the next room where the computer hookup was.

“This is huge Gabe…we may need help with this one!”

A smile crossed my face, “About that…”

Chapter 13

September 15, 1999

Abby did not look happy.

Her excitement over the case had ebbed somewhat as I started describing my encounter that morning with Preacher. As I continued with his offer of help, her attitude as well as her posture had stiffened somewhat.

This was not going to be an easy sell.

“No!”

I sat there and let the echo of her determined statement bounce off of the walls.

“You haven’t heard everything yet,” I said steadily back, unused to confrontation with my daughter. She couldn’t help being steely in her ideals, it was an inherited trait. It’s called being hard headed, and my family had always had it in spades.

“No, I was wrong…we don’t need help.”

With that, she made her way determinedly to the computer and flipped up the switch. As the computer ground to life, I thought over Abby’s surprisingly closed minded attitude. Even considering her heritage, this was uncharacteristic of her.

“May I ask what your concerns are Abby?”

She sat on the chair and stared at the monitor as little blips appeared on the screen. Finally, she turned in her chair, resting her hand on the back as she looked me squarely in the eye.

“For one, he sounds dangerous…and it sounds like it would be dangerous to be around him if anyone discovered who he was. Secondly, we work together very well Gabe; I just don’t think we need to add a third wheel to screw it up. Besides, I spoke too soon a moment ago…we don’t need help.”

She turned back to the computer and logged in. I mulled over what she had said, and then I mulled over what she hadn’t said. A picture of the situation was clearing up in my head, and I smiled as I made my way over to her chair.

Taking her hand, I gently pulled on it in an effort for her to follow me.

“What?” she asked in confusion as I led her through the kitchen and out the back door to the yard. Moving over to the swing, I indicated for her to sit, and then sat down next to her. She was uncertain what I was up to, but played along quietly as she waited.

Putting my arm loosely around her shoulder, I kicked off with my foot, putting the swing into action. We sat there silently for a few minutes as I felt the tension slowly drain from Abby’s shoulders.

“Pretty back here, isn’t it,” I said, somewhat in awe.

“Yes, it is,” Abby said, seeming to look around for the first time. “Betty did this, didn’t she?”

“Yep,” I said with a bit of pride in my voice. “It was one of her favorite things to do. She designed it and made it what it is. I think it’s perfect, and since she’s gone, I’ll never change it. But she would have found other things to do with it if she were alive.

We sat in silence for a few more minutes, enjoying the garden before us.

“Abby?”

“Yeah?”

“Could it be that you are worried about messing with our working affiliation by adding someone else to it…or our personal one?”

She was silent as I continued to push the swing with my foot.

It had occurred to me that the underlying thought of her rejection of Preacher might actually be the hesitation of adding someone else to our relationship.

“Maybe,” she finally conceded, “why screw a good thing up?”

“First off my dear daughter, nothing will
ever
come between us…I won’t let it! But our relationship is like this garden…as long as we are alive, it will change. The garden is a memorial to Betty now, but if she were alive it would still be constantly changing, most of the time for the better.”

I stopped the swing and scooted to the front of the seat, looking Abby in the eye.