Tearing The Shroud (12 page)

Bill extended his left wrist to Marjorie. ‘Shall we try it on?’ he said with a wink.

She bit her lip and smiled. ‘Putting things on means you get to take them off.’

Henry set the tray on the counter. ‘Which of these catches your eye?’

‘You’re the expert; pick one you think is best. Besides, my arm is occupied,’ Bill said, with a chuckle.

‘So I see,’ Henry said as he looked down. He plucked one from the case as Marjorie worked the bracelet onto Bill’s wrist.

A pfft sound made her look over at Henry, who was standing stiffly. She looked back at Bill, as the .22 caliber bullet exited the silencer and pierced her forehead. Rather than going through her head, the lightweight bullet ricocheted inside her skull, scrambling her brain. She stiffened, a trickle of blood ran between her eyes and onto her nose; then she collapsed, landing on Henry’s body.

Bill strolled around the counter, while slipping the pistol into the holster at the small of his back. He carefully arranged Marjorie and Henry so they appeared to be snuggling while taking a nap. Stepping back, he nodded. ‘I do
so
enjoy my artwork.’

He took two of the store’s bags and tossed in the bracelets, followed by the rings. Then he quickly cleared out the display cases. ‘Henry, it was kind of you to leave the ring storage unlocked for me. Very cooperative. You see, I am departing soon and need to store up all the resources I can.’

He walked to the door.

‘Marjorie, my dear, it’s been a pleasure,’ he said, as he stepped into the twilight.

A Passenger
Eight Years in the Past
San Diego, California

It had been a time of growth, investment, and new ventures. Bill sold his home in the Hollywood Hills, netting a nice profit. Then he purchased a beautiful new house overlooking San Diego Bay. The location just felt right. He formed JCorp to oversee and maximize his real estate investments throughout the county, with a property management branch to keep the properties in top condition. To keep his identity private, he represented himself as an employee. He retained a young energetic lawyer, one Theodore Ross, to maintain his estate and pass his growing empire to Bill’s descendants. His investments and business ventures rode the growing wave of prosperity and opportunity in San Diego County. It seemed everything he touched turned to gold.

Late Thursday night after a land purchase, he was driving south on the 15 Freeway.
It’s exciting to be alive
.

Wait, that’s not right
...
It’s an exciting
time
to be alive.

A voice, that wasn’t his own seemed to echo in his head,

His mind had been wandering and he wasn’t sure why.
I’m working too much.

‘No rest for the wicked though
,
’ he muttered.

Bill looked in his rear-view mirror. There was an elderly man in the back seat.

The front tire dropped into the dirt along the freeway. He jerked the wheel left to keep from running up the embankment, and shot toward the center lane, nearly clipping the rear of a pickup truck. Trying to correct his course, he turned hard again, and the big car lost traction. He hung on as the vehicle spun uncontrollably down the freeway. After the second rotation the rear wheels caught, miraculously pointing south. He pulled off at the next exit, into a parking lot beside a mini-mart, and shut the Cadillac off. He tried unsuccessfully to stop his lurching stomach. Shoving the door open, he spewed his dinner on the ground. After wiping his mouth with a linen handkerchief, he sat back into the leather seat. He closed his eyes and mumbled, ‘Bill, get hold of yourself.’

He started to turn around.

For some reason he did what the old guy said. He looked in the mirror.

‘Who...who are you?’ Bill asked, looking away.

He looked in the mirror but the man was gone. He brought his shaking hands to his head. ‘I must be losing my mind.’

Bill drove carefully home and parked the red DeVille in the garage. The door trundled closed behind him. He staggered into the house and hung the keys in the kitchen. There had to be a way to make it stop.

Trying to ignore the voice, Bill walked into the living room and poured a Scotch.
Deanston 12 Year.
That’s what he needed, a nice Scottish single malt.

is
excellent. Twelve years provides such fullness to things.>

Bill shook his head as if to expel the intrusive voice. He lifted the glass with a trembling hand. In the window, a reflected figure sat on the couch behind him.
Maybe if he didn’t look at it, if he just ignored it, the figments would all go away.
He looked past it at the lights below, sipping his Scotch. Finally, he braced himself and turned around. The room was empty.

‘Get some sleep, Bill.’ He expected a comment, but none was forthcoming. He walked through the large house to the master bath, and set the glass on the sink. Brushing his teeth was an exercise in fear as he expected his visitor to appear in the mirror. Finally, unable to stand the possibility, he turned his back to the sink. Back in the bedroom, he stripped to his boxers and t-shirt then slid into bed. Sleep came instantly.

Lying on his side in the darkness, he opened his eyes. The man was in the bed, on his side, their faces less than a foot apart. ‘I’m dreaming. That’s it,’ he said softly.

‘Why...are you here?’

‘I didn’t. I don’t remember...anything.’

Bill struggled to think back; it wasn’t that long. Why couldn’t he remember? Nothing was clear. He’d spent his childhood...where? A scene flickered: a tall house, set in the woods. That’s it, he’d lived in —

He nodded.

They spoke the words in unison: ‘I’d give anything for real excitement.’

Success.

Thrills.

Power.

The memories flooded back: blood in a bathtub; a woman with a knife at her throat, being raped; money-jewelry-gold; the pop of a bullet entering a forehead; houses, land...

‘I did that? Those things...I…?’

‘But I...my business.’

Your
business has nothing to do with
my
business. We never mix legitimate investments with wealth obtained by…
other
means.>

‘I never…that wasn’t — ’

Bill closed his eyes.

Justus opened his eyes.

Rolling to his feet, he stood beside the bed. It was always a wonder, the powerful vigor of youth. Had he felt this way as a younger man? Not that he could remember. He walked to the closet, slipped into a pair of pants then headed down the hall, away from the center of the ranch home. Just outside the exercise room he placed his hands on the wall, running them in an arc to either side and down to the floor. A nimbus of sickly yellow-green light glowed momentarily where he touched the plaster and an opening appeared. He stepped through and down a set of stairs. The big room below contained rows of orderly shelves. Weapons, containers of jewelry, small ingots of gold, hermetically sealed boxes of cash, and more were neatly on them. Fireproof file cabinets contained the copies of deeds JCorp owned. They also held the original printed stock shares showing his control of the corporation. He hated to leave this, but it was time. This experiment had run its course, and his control was slipping as ‘Bill’ struggled against him.

He sighed. Justus had hoped it would last longer. It wasn’t a complete loss; now he knew what he needed to change in the future.

He looked around the room before leaving.
A bright future indeed.

Going Home

The Coronado Bridge arced and curved gracefully over the waters of the harbor, its supports inverted white V’s of graduating heights. The blue girders that formed the roadbed sat upon them. The color was perfect; it gave the appearance that the bridge reflected the water. Boats flitted across the bay, their sails small triangles of white in the distance. He looked up at the small blue sign hanging from the light post.

Suicide Counseling

Crisis Team 24 Hours

There was a phone number at the bottom. That’s was good to know, but he didn’t believe he would require their services today
.

A police cruiser came to a halt behind him. An officer got out, slowly walked around the front of the unit, and strolled toward him, stopping about thirty feet away.

‘How are you doing today sir? I’m Kevin. Would you mind stepping over here so we can speak for a moment?’

He smiled. ‘No, I’m fine where I am.’ He really was.
Such an amazing view.

‘I’d appreciate it if you could. I’m scared of heights, and it sure would make me more comfortable.’ He took two steps forward. ‘Like I said, my name’s Kevin. What’s yours?’

‘That’s not important.’

‘Okay, if that’s what you want. Would you like some water? I have some in the car.’

He shook his head and looked at the bay. ‘I’ll have all the water I need shortly.’

The officer paused. ‘Hey, I have a gentleman with me. He’s a police chaplain. Would you mind if he joined us?’

He laughed. ‘How appropriate, a man of the cloth. Of course...he’s precisely the person for such a moment.’

The man eased out of the car and walked to the policeman’s side.

‘Forgive me, father. I know not what I do,’ he yelled and then convulsed as something tore through his mind with a lance of searing pain.

‘It’s Bill...I think it is, at least,’ he said.

Justus wrested back control, shoving Bill into the corner of his mind where he kept him chained.

‘Bill? Good to meet you, Bill,’ the officer said. ‘This is Tom.’

‘A pleasure to meet you Kevin, Tom. I wish it were under better circumstances. But these things happen.’

Tom smiled and replied, ‘It’s okay Bill. We all have tough days. Why don’t we chat about what’s bothering you? Maybe we can find some solutions.’

Bill snapped the mental chains. ‘I don’t...want to.’ He grimaced and his eyes darted rapidly.

‘It really would be best,’ Kevin said.

‘Jump...I...don’t want...to,’ Bill said, through gritted teeth. Sweat beaded his forehead.

The officer’s shoulders dropped. ‘Good, Tom and I don’t want you to, either.’

Justus imagined a metal box that sprouted around Bill’s thoughts. ‘Bill isn’t in charge,’ he said. He smiled and nodded at Tom. ‘
You
know how these things are.
Don’t you,
Tom?’

A blinding white light exploded behind Justus’ eyes. ‘Wait, no...I didn’t mean to...it wasn’t what I...’ Bill said as Justus jerked Bill’s body onto the rail, his movements like a marionette with twisted strings.

Tom started forward.

‘Bill, stop. Step down,’ Kevin commanded as he ran.

‘I...have to...’ his body went stiff and he fell slowly, his arms rigid at his sides. As he toppled Justus saw Tom’s fingers brush his foot. He cackled in Bill’s mind as Bill screamed, ‘No...’ and the world flipped end over end.

Chapter 12

Another Awakening
Eight Years in the Past
Callendel

Justus opened his eyes slightly. Morning light crept in around the heavy curtains, but the room remained comfortably darkened. He let his eyes adjust to it and looked to the left of his bed, away from the window. True to form, Laurence waited to attend him.

He stood near a table by the wall, hands clasped behind his back. Two bowls, probably containing warm and cool water, a stack of soft towels; a glass of water, and a tea service filled the tabletop.

Justus brought his hands up to his face and rubbed his eyes. His cheeks were smooth, no need for a shave. He felt invigorated, refreshed, and well rested. He sat up slowly and Laurence stepped forward silently to place pillows behind him so that he could be comfortable while having his tea.

‘Hello, Laurence,’ he said.

‘Sire,’ Laurence replied. Then he retrieved the glass of water from the table.