Reverse Metamorphosis book one of the Irrevocable Change trilogy (37 page)

His next project was to rent a backhoe to dig
a one hundred foot long by six foot deep trench and install lengths
of thirty inch diameter concrete drain pipe away from the
underground room. A hole was punched through a concrete wall to
slide the pipe through and then the pipe was sealed in the wall.
Later he would finish the job of making the tube into a firing
range for testing rifles and pistols and cartridge loads.

Then it was time to hire the same
professional contractor who had made changes to the antique shop
building when he bought it. The crew installed perimeter and
interior walls in the basement creating a large family room for
entertaining, along with two more bathrooms and two additional
bedrooms which he would use for additional storage.

During the search for a house he had
assembled a fine collection of Victorian era antiques as his
personal furniture and amenities; they had been stored away until
the right house was located. Although walnut furniture was the
prevailing favorite wood, he found he preferred the vivid patterns
of oak, especially quarter sawn red oak. After having new
appliances and the furniture delivered, he again enlisted the help
of the interior designer to arrange the furniture and amenities and
suggest other items she felt would add to the décor and coordinate
with his oak furniture.

On a Wednesday evening during dinner His
parents were caught totally off guard when he announced he had
bought a house and would be packing his personal belonging to move
out the following Saturday. Immediately after dishes were washed,
dried and put away the three of them drove over to the new house
for a look. Walt and Margaret were both impressed with the size and
location of the house as well as with the manicured lawn and
landscaping. Upon entering the house both commented on the
beautiful job of decorating to the point where Clay felt compelled
to admit he had received professional assistance. Walter maneuvered
him aside to express concern about Clay’s ability in the long term
to make the payments on a house which obviously had cost more than
his parents. Clay assured him he was confident in his ability to
manage the mortgage payments.

Margaret rejoined them, “The house is
beautiful, although it’s much larger than I ever expected you to
buy while you’re still single. However, young man, even though
you’re moving out on your own, I still expect to see you at least
once a week for dinner and for birthdays and on Thanksgiving and
Christmas with the rest of the family at our house.”

“Mom, there’s no way anyone could keep me
away from your house for Thanksgiving Dinner.” He and Walter
laughed and got to talking about the good food they were looking
forward to. Then Clay addressed both of his parents, “But I would
like to invite the entire family to come here for Christmas Eve for
a family holiday party. We’ll still come to your house Christmas
morning to open presents, but I want to start an annual pre party
in the evening.”

Clay made all the catering arrangements and
had the house decorated, and personally invited all of the family
members. When the holiday was over he felt very proud of
himself.

A
year earlier, on
one of her trips home, Adrianna and Clay had exchanged business
cards. He found it and gave her a call at her office. After the
usual chit chat he told her he was flying to Florida for a few days
and would like to stop over in Washington D.C. and take her to
dinner. She sounded pleased and volunteered to pick him up at the
airport. So, on Thursday afternoon he boarded a United Airlines
flight out of Midway for D.C.

Clay wasn’t a novice at flying, but had
butterflies in his stomach as the pilot taxied out to start the pre
flight checks. When the plane turned from the approach onto the
runway and the throttle of the jet engines was increased, he felt
like a kid on his first flight; knowing it had little to do with
flying. He had wanted to spend time with Adrianna for a long time,
much longer than he wanted to admit to himself. Finally, with some
degree of success he was in a position to approach her. Now he
wouldn’t need to be ashamed to be seen with him, and would,
hopefully, take him seriously since he had money and confidence in
his position. He didn’t think Tony or Anna would have mentioned his
other profession to her; he couldn’t think of any reason for it to
be discussed. The view from the small window beside him quickly
became bland once the plane rose above the clouds. Getting relaxed
in the seat, he was content to think about the lovely vision he
would soon see and touch.

As the arrival time came and passed Clay grew
aggravated when the plane remained in a holding pattern. Didn't the
pilot know it was important he be on time? He knew his impatience
was due to the thought of Adrianna waiting for him in the airport
and he didn’t want to inconvenience this special lady. When he
finally stepped into the passenger loading/unloading area he
immediately searched through the faces before him and saw her
standing alone, back from the crowd. She was tall and slim, wearing
navy slacks, a yellow shirt and a medium blue blazer. My God she’s
beautiful, he thought as he crossed through the throng of arrivals
and greeters to approach her.

Watching Clay emerge from the tunnel stirred
emotions Adrianna had gradually come to feel for this long time
family friend. She had admitted to herself several years ago she
was drawn to Clay and had finally come to terms with it. After all,
he was nice looking, pleasant to be with and her parents both liked
him. She had never disclosed to either of them her romantic
interest in him, but felt they would be pleased. When her father
was hospitalized Anna had relied solely on Clay for support, and
since the episode Clay was as close to Tony as Jimmy had been.
Maybe, at some point Clay would even be invited to work for her
father in some position of authority. Being attached to her
parent’s life style didn’t bother her, and the cash benefits were
enormous. She had been concerned about Clay’s income level until he
had achieved a measure of success with the antiques business he had
founded. Previously, when he had been a common laborer she had
expelled any thought of sharing a relationship with him. She was a
high dollar catch and had far higher expectations than a
construction worker could ever hope to fulfill. And he would be
expected to provide not only for her, but also for the children she
longed to have. Yes, Mrs. Clayton Albrecht definitely had a
favorable ring to it.

Adrianna suggested an Italian restaurant
close to her apartment, away from the heavy traffic of downtown
Washington. During dinner, and later over another bottle of wine,
they spoke of happenings in their lives since she had left home for
college and a career.

At her apartment they sat and continued
talking until two in the morning. During some heavy necking she
silently indicated it was time to move to her bedroom. Both were
apprehensive and held back from the volatile contact they craved,
and felt sure the other could provide.

When the alarm sounded at six thirty Adrianna
woke long enough to dial a number and leave a message saying she
was sick and wouldn’t be at the office, and then returned to
sleeping.

She became aware of a warmth pressing against
her backside and a hand gently exploring the front of her body.
Before opening her eyes she realized the sun was up and filling the
room with light. She was about to attack Clay, and this morning
there would be no holding back. Last night he had proven to be an
adequate lover, soft, tender and considerate. Now she would learn
if he could fuel the wild passion she would demand of a lover and
future husband.

I
n late April 1975
Clay received a call from Mickey necessitating a trip to Atlanta
Georgia to make a local black sheriff disappear. He decided he
would have to start charging more to stage accidental deaths; they
required much more detailed planning and introduced a higher level
of risk to him. Shooting someone in the back of the head or from a
distance was much simpler than staging an accident. Since the
Sheriff was known to be an avid sportsman and re-loader, staging an
explosion was simple and let him enter the Sheriff’s trailer alone
to rig the powder storage to explode. Unfortunately for them, his
wife and two deputies were in the trailer with the sheriff when it
blew.

He had driven his truck and stopped on the
way south at many out of the way antique shops. His time was well
spent as he had found some interesting pieces of furniture and
glassware as well as some cheaper collectible items he was sure he
could make several hundred percent profit on. The antique business
was going well and his shop employees were performing better than
expected. Gladys Tucker had proven to be his most dependable
employee and had taken the lead on solving several problems when
they had become evident. She had been the only logical choice to be
promoted to shop manager and he was pleased to be able to leave for
weeks on end with the business in her capable hands. He was so
pleased he rewarded her performance and promotion with a sixty
percent raise.

Knowing everything was under control at the
shop he decided to swing to the east and attempt to find his war
school mentors, Joe and Joan. It had been a little over two years
since he had left them, and he was eager to see them or learn they
had reached their goals and moved on. Knowing his large cargo truck
would be the wrong vehicle on the gravel and dirt roads he would be
traversing, he decided to park it in Knoxville. At the fourth small
car lot he stopped at he talked the owner into renting him an older
four wheel drive ex-military Jeep for a week. Cash does talk. He
took off in search of his friends, enjoying the wind in his hair in
the July heat. He wasn’t sure of exactly where he was going, but
had a vague idea of the location of Joe’s place. If he couldn’t
find the compound in a couple of days he would call Tony and see if
he still had the phone number.

After following the bus route out of
Knoxville he turned north after what he hoped was an appropriate
distance. The rest of the day was spent traveling on blacktop and
gravel roads looking for landmarks to tweak his memory. Near dusk
he found a small fleabag motel and ate cold cuts from a small
grocery store. The store was attached to the only gas station in
the town of one hundred thirteen people. Since the county was dry,
a beer with supper was out of the question. The only good thing to
come out of the experience was when he learned the motel office had
a detailed map of the area on the wall and he was able to make a
rough sketch from it. The map showed not only the roadways but also
the logging and fire trails through the forest. Based on his
assumption of where he and Joan had departed the bus and where he
was staying, he felt he had a fair idea of where he would find
them.

Through out the following morning Clay drove
roads in the area he thought to be in the right location. Shortly
after one o'clock he drove down a blacktop road that turned into a
gravel road. Four miles further on, a dirt trail crossed the road
at right angles. If this was the right road he had overlooked the
compound, which should have been on his left. He had not seen any
buildings resembling those he was searching for. Turning around he
drove back seven miles and then saw a rock outcropping on the left
just across from a private lane. The rock feature was barely
visible from the other direction but was prominent now. He was
positive this was the entrance to Joe’s place.

Half way down the private lane he was able to
make out the skeletal steel frame of a building through the trees.
Then he saw a single white house trailer with a car in front of it
ahead in the clearing. Before he entered the clearing a knot formed
in his stomach and his grip tightened on the steering wheel. In
front of him were the burned out remains of the log cabin, garages
and training building. Clay stopped the Jeep at the edge of the
clearing and sat staring at the ruins, not wanting to accept what
could have happened. As he sat there with the engine running a
figure opened the door of the trailer and started down the metal
steps in front of it.

“Hello there,” a man probably in his early
sixties yelled.

Directing his attention toward the figure
Clay noticed an insignia on the car; a deputy county sheriff.
Warily he replied, “Good afternoon.”

“What can I do for you?” the man asked. He
was a thin wiry man about five feet ten inches, wearing slip on
boots, jeans and a blue chambray shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
Clay noticed a revolver stuck in the waistband of his jeans on the
left side.

“Well, not much from the looks of this. The
people who lived here,” Clay pointed to the ruins, “let me hunt
deer on their property two seasons back. I was hoping to hunt here
again this season; I didn’t even learn their last name.”

“The name was Whitlock; Gerald and Julie
Whitlock.”

“What happened, did they move?” Clay dreaded
hearing the answer to his question, but had to know.

“No, Mr. they didn’t move, both of them died
in the fire. What did you say your name was?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m Joseph Stassi; and
you’re?”

“Sam Hawkins, deputy sheriff for the county.
Bought the place in February and just moved out here two weeks ago.
Lived eight miles up the road toward town and jumped at the chance
to get this place cheap.”

“Is there a chance I could hunt here next
season?”

“No, It ain’t going to happen. I hunt and my
sons and some of my friends will be coming out here too. Got a lot
of cleaning up to do; you know, getting rid of all this trash left
from the fire. My oldest boy has a dozer and a dump truck. He’s
gonna haul the trash off when he gets time.”