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Authors: Richard J. Bennett
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to be thinking about them as well; it wasn’t just about himself anymore. It’s good to see that in a person; Gary had become a humble man looking after his kin.
I went home to get something to eat and catch some shut-eye; the next day was Saturday and so I’d be able to relax and mow the yard or not, clean up around the house or not, or just sleep late, or not. I got home, turned on the television; I didn’t watch it much anymore, but wanted to hear some noise in the house, in the background, because I usually spend my time on the computer. Speaking of which, I decided to type in the name “Susan Lovely” on the search engine to see what would show up about Dr. Franklin Burke’s maybe/perhaps girlfriend.
I found what Helen had told me, that Susan Lovely was 37 years old, no longer a child, no longer a young adult, but a lady who was now in middle age territory. She’d never been married and had no kids, which was kind of unusual for a rich and beautiful woman like herself. Surely there would have been sharks or gold-diggers or suitors who would have swept her off her feet, years ago. Wonder why that never happened. She had a pretty portrait photograph…
The cell phone rang and I picked it up. A strange voice said, “I hear you’re looking for me?” It had an electronic, tinny quality to it, with no inflection or accent. I said, “I think I’m looking for you if you’re who I think you are.”
“I’m probably who you think I am. Let’s meet. Leave your house and walk to the Janet Field park. Take your phone with you.”
It was getting late, but I didn’t want to miss this meeting. It was 8:30 p.m. and dark already, so I took a flashlight and lightweight jacket.
Leaving the house, I walked about a quarter mile until reaching the park, where the cell phone rang. I took the phone off my belt and said, “Hello?”
“Now walk to the Dairy Queen,” said the tinny voice. “Don’t go in. Stand at the curb. Should take you about five minutes to get there.”
Good thing I didn’t mind walking at night. I followed the instructions of the electronic voice, and headed to the neighborhood DQ. I slowed down as I got near and looked around. Since it was Friday night, many of the townsfolk were out with their children buying ice cream. My cell phone rang again, and the voice said, “Walk to the post office.”
“I’m starting to get a little tired,” I said.
“I know, sorry, but this is how it’s got to be.”
So I walked a few blocks to the local post office, a little further down the street and just around the corner. There was minimal traffic and I was soon out in front of the small government building. I hoped I wouldn’t get mugged; this part of town wasn’t exactly the newest addition to the city.
As I looked around, I saw headlights coming my way. It looked huge, and turned out to be an RV camper; it made its way up the street and stopped directly in front of me. I could see that there was a man in the driver’s seat with glasses, thick eyebrows, big nose and mustache, all in one piece since it was a disguise, who leaned out his side window and said, “Get in, quick!”
The Specialist
Once in the passenger’s seat, I said, “Walter, I’m guessing that’s you behind those spectacles.”
The man behind the steering wheel held up his finger in front of his lips, signaling me to stay quiet. “Not even close, mister,” he said.
He looked straight ahead and drove well within the speed limit, like an old retired man in his recreational vehicle, like someone who was traveling on the road in strange territory. He signaled every turn, observed all stop signs and lights, and within ten minutes slowly steered the large vehicle to the south and out of the city.
When trees appeared, the driver took the glasses and nose off and said, “Hello, Randall! How have you been? Long time no see!” It was Walter Dale, after all.
“Can we talk now?” I asked. Walter nodded while looking ahead.
I went home to get something to eat and catch some shut-eye; the next day was Saturday and so I’d be able to relax and mow the yard or not, clean up around the house or not, or just sleep late, or not. I got home, turned on the television; I didn’t watch it much anymore, but wanted to hear some noise in the house, in the background, because I usually spend my time on the computer. Speaking of which, I decided to type in the name “Susan Lovely” on the search engine to see what would show up about Dr. Franklin Burke’s maybe/perhaps girlfriend.
I found what Helen had told me, that Susan Lovely was 37 years old, no longer a child, no longer a young adult, but a lady who was now in middle age territory. She’d never been married and had no kids, which was kind of unusual for a rich and beautiful woman like herself. Surely there would have been sharks or gold-diggers or suitors who would have swept her off her feet, years ago. Wonder why that never happened. She had a pretty portrait photograph…
The cell phone rang and I picked it up. A strange voice said, “I hear you’re looking for me?” It had an electronic, tinny quality to it, with no inflection or accent. I said, “I think I’m looking for you if you’re who I think you are.”
“I’m probably who you think I am. Let’s meet. Leave your house and walk to the Janet Field park. Take your phone with you.”
It was getting late, but I didn’t want to miss this meeting. It was 8:30 p.m. and dark already, so I took a flashlight and lightweight jacket.
Leaving the house, I walked about a quarter mile until reaching the park, where the cell phone rang. I took the phone off my belt and said, “Hello?”
“Now walk to the Dairy Queen,” said the tinny voice. “Don’t go in. Stand at the curb. Should take you about five minutes to get there.”
Good thing I didn’t mind walking at night. I followed the instructions of the electronic voice, and headed to the neighborhood DQ. I slowed down as I got near and looked around. Since it was Friday night, many of the townsfolk were out with their children buying ice cream. My cell phone rang again, and the voice said, “Walk to the post office.”
“I’m starting to get a little tired,” I said.
“I know, sorry, but this is how it’s got to be.”
So I walked a few blocks to the local post office, a little further down the street and just around the corner. There was minimal traffic and I was soon out in front of the small government building. I hoped I wouldn’t get mugged; this part of town wasn’t exactly the newest addition to the city.
As I looked around, I saw headlights coming my way. It looked huge, and turned out to be an RV camper; it made its way up the street and stopped directly in front of me. I could see that there was a man in the driver’s seat with glasses, thick eyebrows, big nose and mustache, all in one piece since it was a disguise, who leaned out his side window and said, “Get in, quick!”
The Specialist
Once in the passenger’s seat, I said, “Walter, I’m guessing that’s you behind those spectacles.”
The man behind the steering wheel held up his finger in front of his lips, signaling me to stay quiet. “Not even close, mister,” he said.
He looked straight ahead and drove well within the speed limit, like an old retired man in his recreational vehicle, like someone who was traveling on the road in strange territory. He signaled every turn, observed all stop signs and lights, and within ten minutes slowly steered the large vehicle to the south and out of the city.
When trees appeared, the driver took the glasses and nose off and said, “Hello, Randall! How have you been? Long time no see!” It was Walter Dale, after all.
“Can we talk now?” I asked. Walter nodded while looking ahead.
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