James (Teumessian Trilogy Book 2) (6 page)

James and the rest of the candidates reported to the classroom first thing the next morning.

“Why are we here? I thought PT was in the morning, not classroom stuff?” Tim questioned.

“Well, we’ve only had one day so far, so my guess is they are doing whatever they want week one to keep us on our feet,” Greg replied, taking the seat next to him.

“This classroom stuff is going to get old, I just know it,” Tim laughed.

“We are here to learn. I prefer to do my workouts in the am, but if this is what they want, I am fine with it,” James said, sitting down and crossing his arms.

As the rest of the candidates took their seats, Ray entered the room with a short grey-haired woman dressed in scrubs.

“Ladies and gentlemen, today you are all due for blood work. So man up. You are all getting stuck today.” Ray said pulling the chair out from behind the desk and sitting it next to the desk. “She is in charge, when she calls your name, come up and let her take your blood.”

“Great, I hate this kind of stuff,” Tim said under his breath.

The woman stepped up and started to call names. One by one each of them submitted to a blood draw. They were dismissed to the training grounds once they were done. James was called last.

“I guess you weren’t doing it alphabetically,” he said with a smile, taking a seat.

“Stretch out your arm and roll up your sleeve,” he was met with a firm response.

“Okay, not much for small talk,” James replied, rolling up his sleeve.

Once she had drawn a vial of blood, James tried to move. “Sit still. You have another vial,” the woman ordered.

“Why? Everyone else had only one?” James questioned, confused.

“Because you do. Sit still,” she said as she set up the second vial.

James sat back in the chair.
Once again, I'm being treated differently.
He thought to himself. Once she was finished, she put the vials in her bag and walked out of the room.

“Well, that was rude,” James said with a laugh as he got up and exited the room to join his fellow candidates on the training grounds.

The woman made her way to the administration building where Rachel was waiting for her. Rachel handed her a white envelope and the woman handed James’s second vial of blood in exchange.

“You never took that second vial, is that clear?” Rachel asked her.

“Yes,” the woman responded, placing the envelope in her bag and continuing on into the building.

Rachel quickly moved to her car. She had to get off the grounds before she was seen and get it to her employer. She tried calming her mind as she drove, but it was more difficult than she had expected, it was going a mile a minute. She had stolen this boy’s blood and did not understand what they wanted to do with it.
Are they trying to establish if who they think his mother is, is in fact his mother? Why does it matter who his mother is? What possible secrets could this boy’s life hold that are so important that someone would pay a fortune for just information on him?
She continued to run the questions though her head, and they were starting to scare her. Rachel pulled up to the warehouse and moved quickly from her car. She wanted to get rid of this vial, to be done, to get her money and never see them again. Rachel walked straight to the office and threw open the door. She reached out her hand with the vial of blood, “Here, take it, I am done. I gave you everything I was contracted to do. I want my money and to never see you again.”

The man in the shadows leaned forward and took the vial.

It was the first time Rachel had seen anything of him besides his shadowy figure. He had dark skin and a scar on his arm that was barely visible, but when his long sleeve shirt rode up his arm as he reached forward, it came into view. Rachel stepped back, the less she knew about him, the better. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a black envelope and threw it to her. She caught it. She thought of opening it and making sure it was the right amount, but she no longer cared at this point. The man placed the vial in the same pocket he had pulled the envelope from.

“Then our business is done. I plan to never see you again,” he said, waving his hand for her to leave.

Rachel couldn’t move fast enough to her car. Rain began to fall as she started her drive home, but that didn’t slow her down. “Get home and be done.” She kept saying to herself. She had left her resignation on Ray’s desk that morning. He was probably just finding it now. This money was retirement money. She was off to Mexico as soon as her bags were packed. Once she arrived home, Rachel rushed through the pouring rain to the entrance of her apartment building. She ran up the two flights of stairs and fumbled with her keys before she could unlock the door. She flipped the light switch to her left, but no lights went on. “Great, no power.” Rachel complained aloud. She closed the door and moved to her kitchen to light a candle. She found a lighter in the drawer next to her refrigerator and lit the candle on her counter. Then she dropped the lighter next to the candle, pulled the envelope out of her purse and placed it next to the lit candle. She just looked at it.

Is it blood mone
y? She thought. She rested her hands on the counter and tried not to look at it. Rachel heard movement in her living room, “Hello?” she questioned. There was no response. Rachel picked up the candle and moved to her living room. “Is there anyone there?” Rachel yelled aloud. She prayed for no response. Was she being paranoid? Was she hearing things? When she entered the living room, she couldn’t see anyone.

“You have been a very bad girl,” a voice called out.

Rachel was terrified. She couldn’t tell if the voice was male or female. “Who’s there?” her voice was trembling.

“You can’t play both sides,” the voice replied.

Rachel scanned the room, trying to find the source of the voice, but she couldn’t find anyone. “Please, I never meant to…” as Rachel tried to finish she felt the cold metal of the barrel of a gun pressed against her right temple. “No, please,” she begged.

“You crossed the line and now you have to pay for it,” the voice replied as the trigger was pulled.

Rachel’s body slumped to the floor as blood pooled around her head. The shadowy figure wiped off the gun and placed it in Rachel's right hand.

The person moved to the kitchen counter and picked up the envelope. “Thanks for the payment,” the killer called out, exiting the apartment.

Chapter

10

John had become worried after not seeing or hearing from Rachel for several days. He approached Ray about it in his office, though Ray had nothing to tell him that he didn’t already know. John and Rachel had been very close so for her to not be in contact with him for that long was out of the ordinary. John was even her emergency contact at work since she had no one else.

“So, let me get this straight. She quit with no notice and now you have been calling her for three days and she won’t reply?” John questioned Ray.

“I have been trying to contact her, but no response.”

“Doesn’t it seem odd for her to just quit? She never said anything about being unhappy with her job, did she? She told me nothing, and we talked all the time.”

“No, she gave no sign,” Ray replied calmly as he sifted through his files.

“Aren’t you worried?!” John exclaimed.

“She is an adult. If she didn’t want to work here anymore, she could quit. That’s her right.”

“Then why do I have a voicemail from Detective Craig with the Virginia State Police?”

“You have a what?” Ray placed the file from his hand back on the desk

“A voicemail wanting me to call him back regarding an important manner.”

“Well, call him back.”

“Don’t we need to clear any contact with law enforcement with the President?” John questioned, confused.

“No, just call him; in fact, do it right now,” Ray replied, gesturing for John to get out his phone.

John pulled out his phone and dialed, “I don’t think it's good idea to do this without discussing it with the President first.” John stood there with the phone to his ear. The phone picked up on the other end, “Yes, this is John Alfred, I received a voicemail from you about something.” John paused. “Yes, yes, I know Rachel Fowler, can I ask what this is about?” John’s face dropped. “When did it happen?”

Ray looked up from the papers he had started working on again.

“Yes, thank you for letting me know. I will meet you there in an hour.” John replied, then hung up the phone. He looked to Ray, “Rachel is dead, it appears to be suicide.”

“It appears to be?”

“Single gunshot wound to the right temple, no fingerprints or signs of forced entry.” John said, taking a seat by Ray’s desk.

Ray just stared in disbelief, “I never saw that coming from her.”

“Me neither, it just doesn’t sound like her.”

“What did the police want with you?”

“To identify her body.”

“I will come with you. It just doesn’t seem right. I want to ask a few questions,” Ray replied, standing up.

John stood up as well. “This is not going to be fun,” he said, following Ray out of the office.

Going to the morgue was not something John or Ray wanted to do, but they needed answers. They were greeted at the door by Detective Craig. He was a short stocky man with a five o’clock shadow and greying brown hair.

“Thank you for coming down so quickly. Which one of you is John?”

John extended his hand, “I’m John, and this is Raymond Clayton. He was Rachel’s boss. May I ask how you got my information?”

“Mr. Albert, you were listed in her phone as an emergency contact. Thank you both for coming down. Please, follow me.” They followed Detective Craig down the hallway and into the door marked “Morgue.” John shuddered as they entered, Ray was stoic, this was not his first dead body. Craig moved to the metal drawers and pulled open the third drawer from the wall. Ray walked right over to the sheet covering the body. John stayed back. He was creeped out by the whole thing and was perfectly okay with Ray handling this. Detective Craig pulled the sheet back to reveal Rachel’s body. John turned away. The sight of the gunshot wound on her head was a bit too much for him. He had seen dead bodies before and even taken a life before, but this time, it was someone he had known. Ray looked down at her body, then moved the sheet to expose her right hand. Ray picked it up and looked at it closer.

“Gunshot to the right temple but her right hand is clean. No powder burns.” Ray looked up to Detective Craig.

Detective Craig readjusted his posture, “That is what the lab concluded as well.”

“Then how can you call this a suicide? No evidence she fired the gun.”

Detective Craig pulled the sheet back over Rachel’s body, “It was not a suicide. I know that, but my superiors want me to keep it a suicide and close the case.”

John turned around, “So, what are you going to do about it?”

“There is nothing I can do about it. We were stonewalled by the CIA. They don’t want us to pursue it.”

“Why are you telling us this?” Ray questioned.

“Because I am not okay with a woman being killed and nobody caring. Those who knew her need to know the truth. Maybe you will have better luck,” Detective Craig said as he pushed the slab back into the drawer.

Ray nodded, but John was furious. “How can you say you may not pursue a crime? Why would the CIA allow for one of their own to be killed and have nothing done about it?”

Detective Craig was about to reply, but Ray interrupted. “John, let’s go. You getting mad will not change anything.”

Detective Craig reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. “If there is anything I can do or if you find anything out, please let me know.” He handed the card to Ray.

Ray accepted the card and placed it in his pocket. Then they walked from the room.

John just stood in silence for a moment before exclaiming, “That’s it?!”

“Yes, we are leaving,” Ray said, waving his hand for John to follow. John followed Ray out.

They drove back to the training facility in silence, but once they got back to Ray’s office, John lashed out. “How can they just sweep this under the rug? Dirty her name by saying she killed herself when they know she didn’t! She worked here for over six years!”

“John, I have said it before and I will say it again, you getting mad will not change anything.”

“Why aren’t you upset? She worked with you too!”

“We will sort this out ourselves, but you need to keep your head cool. Running around and yelling at police detectives will not get this solved. Just keep your eyes and ears open. I will handle this. Go home and sleep it off,” Ray ordered, pointing to the door.

“Fine,” John replied, frustrated, as he stormed from the office.