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Dream MasterChapter 44: The Other Shoe free porn video
I was in a paddle-boat at Roeding Park, in Fresno, with Lizzy, when Elliott Bastion died. The wave of disorientation was so strong Lizzy actually had to grab me to keep me from going over the side. Her father would later comment that almost falling out of the boat into that water was probably the closest I had come to certain death, but at the time...
"Jimmy!" Lizzy exclaimed as she grabbed the strap of my mandatory issue life jacket.
The dizziness passed quickly – just a quick shake of the head, really – and I was fine again, but something was obviously wrong. Lizzy, of course, had seen it, as well as simultaneously feeling Jamie's reaction. Jamie recovered just as quickly as I had and was just as concerned as either Lizzy or I.
"What the hell was that?" she asked.
"What she said," Lizzy said. "For a second there it was like your energy just spiked. I'm surprised it didn't sunburn my arm it was so bright."
"I have no idea," I said, "but whatever it was, it's gone already. I think maybe we should head back in – just in case – and later we need to see about putting in a block like I used on Lynn and Mel; you just called me 'Jimmy' instead of 'David'. We're lucky it happened here instead of somewhere someone important might have overheard."
"Oh my gosh!" Lizzy said. "I did, didn't I? I didn't even realize ... yeah, we better do something about that. Probably with everyone, just..."
"Shit!" Jamie swore suddenly, interrupting. "Jimmy, Bastion's gone!"
"Gone?" I demanded. "What do you mean gone?"
Unlike Allison, Lizzy could hear Jamie's side of the conversation either way, so as long as I spoke out loud she'd be able to hear both sides of the conversation, and if anyone was close enough to hear us, or watching, they would think it was just the two of us talking.
"I mean, Bastion's gone; the bubble is not there, and I can't find him!"
"You mean he got out?"
"I don't know," she said. "Jimmy, this is bad. If he's out, with everything he's learned about us intact..."
"I know," I said. "Damnit! And we can't even call anyone and ask if something is wrong."
"Why the hell not?"
I guess it was her turn to demand answers. I made a mental note to try not to sound like that in the future; chances are if I didn't like her doing it, that she hadn't liked it from me either.
"Because," Lizzy said, answering for me, "you can't justify knowing, and without that, there is no way to explain calling and asking – especially since you've taken such a hands-off approach since he got arrested."
"Oh yeah," Jamie said, sounding far more contrite. "We could drop in on Nicki," she suggested. "Maybe she knows something."
"I don't think that's a good idea," I said. "It could attract attention to the fact that we've been playing around in her head. What if it distracted her while she was doing something important?"
"Besides," Lizzy added, "how would you justify knowing anything later if she or Atkins didn't tell you? If you say one did and the other checks..."
"Well you're just being little miss gloom and doom today, aren't you?"
"Sorry, but Allison wasn't here to be the reasonable one. I'm just doing the best I can to fill in."
"Well, you're doing a damn fine job," I said, kissing her cheek. "Keep up the good work."
"For that?" she said with a frown. "I don't mean to sound negative, but that's not much in the way of motivation. Is that your best offer?"
I started to lean in and sweeten the pot a little, but Jamie put the brakes on and pulled me back.
"I don't think that's a real smart idea at this particular juncture. You guys stop the clock again, and there's no one here to try and snap you out of it except me, and I think we agreed we didn't want to take that chance."
"Now who's being a killjoy?" Lizzy said. "Raincheck?"
"Deal," I said, kissing her nose instead. "Since there's nothing we can really do about any of this right this minute ... be a shame to waste a sunset; looks like it's going to be a really nice show."
She snuggled into my side and laid her head on my shoulder as Jamie left to tell Allison what was going on.
The call came in from Spencer right after we turned in our paddleboat and were walking back to the car. The fact that she never called me unless something serious was going on made it easy for me to skip the pleasantries and get straight to the point. I didn't even say hello...
"What's wrong, Nicki?"
"And good evening to you, too," she replied. "What makes you think something is wrong?"
"Simple; you wouldn't be calling me if there weren't. You're not the chitchat type; at least not with me. Doreen maybe ... or small talk around the dinner table, but you wouldn't call just because you miss the sound of my voice."
"Okay, I'll give you that. Elliott Bastion is dead."
"What?" I didn't have to fake the surprise; the hard part was not sounding relieved. "When did this happen? And how? I thought he was still locked up. Did they have a riot at the jail or something?"
"About an hour ago, and he just dropped dead in his cell. We won't know why until they do the autopsy. I don't suppose you know if he had any history of medical problems?"
"No," I said dryly. "I never bothered to look past the psychological problems; that was plenty sick enough for me."
"Well, whatever it was, he just saved the taxpayers a lot of money. Do you want to hear the really interesting part?"
"There's more?" I asked.
"He had a visitor today; two if you count Phoebe."
"Phoebe went to see Bastion?"
"Yeah, first thing this morning, right in the middle of her morning prayer time, she stops and tells me she needs to see him, today, as soon as possible. It's almost spooky."
Uh oh!
"Did she say why?"
"That's the spooky part; she said that she needed to forgive him, and that it had to be today – that tomorrow would be too late. I had some things to take care of first, but I called mid-morning to set up an interview. These things normally take time – not to mention a really good reason – they don't like jumping through all the hoops to bring prisoners out. It turned out he was already meeting with someone else, though, so all we had to do was show up and wait. I figured it was his lawyer, but I knew that was wrong as soon as I got there. Lawyer's meet in a secure area attached to the lockup; this meeting was in a conference room in the administrative section."
"That's seems a little strange, doesn't it?" Was Bastion playing with people in the jail? It was hard to imagine him risking exposure that way, but maybe he was getting desperate.
"That was my thought as well," she said. "Then I found out who he was with..."
"They told you?"
"No, I was in a waiting area with Phoebe and saw her walk out. Ready for this? He was meeting with Sandra Atkins."
Oh shit!
"Atkins?" I said, and I felt Lizzy stiffen beside me. "What the hell was she doing with Bastion? I thought she was staying away from the case."
"So did I," she confirmed, "and I don't have any idea yet, but whatever it was, they'd been talking about it for two days."
"Two days!" Oh, this really wasn't good.
"Yep, she was there most of yesterday and then came back bright and early this morning. I've had a call in to the DA to see if they could tell me anything, but – considering the way we bailed on them after this all blew up – I don't know how helpful they're feeling. In either case, that was before he died, so it may be a while before we have any details at all.
"Did you think about calling Atkins directly and asking?"
"I've thought about it," she admitted.
"But you don't want to have to explain what you were doing there?"
"Pretty much, yeah; mostly I don't want to have to explain about Phoebe wanting to see him. David, how much do you know about her?"
"Atkins? Not much, why?"
"No, I meant Phoebe. What do you know about her?"
Red lights began flashing all around my brain.
"What happened, Nicki?"
"What makes you think something happened?"
"You're asking me what I know about Phoebe. The only reason I can think of that would make you do it is because something happened, so ... what happened?
"Nothing really," she said, and I could almost see her shaking her head as she went on. "It was just all very strange. First she wants – and I mean desperately wants – to see him, insisting that it can't wait, and it has to be today. So I get her there, and all she does is sit down and pray for a few minutes, then tells him, "I forgive you," and gets up and walks out; a few hours later the man is dead. I don't know; it's just really weird is all. It's almost like she somehow knew he was going to die and that if she didn't do her thing today, it would be too late."
Shit! That was going to attract attention. I took a deep breath and tried for the most serious and sincere tone I could get.
"There was a time I would have felt exactly the same way," I said. "If it were anyone else, I would probably agree with you – weird – but ... well, you've spent some time with her. Would you say she was serious about her faith?"
"You're kidding, right?" she practically laughed. It's funny how sarcasm comes out some times. "That girl is about the most devout person I have ever met."
"Hands down," I agreed with her, "and you say she came up with this suddenly, right in the middle of her prayer time?"
"Oh, give me a break," she said. "You can't be serious."
"Do you have a better explanation?"
"No, but really..."
"She really challenges your faith, doesn't she?" I said very seriously.
She kind of huffed and said, "Yes! But at the same time you just know it's nothing to do with you – she's not trying to show you up or point fingers or anything. She doesn't hit any of the holier-than-thou buttons most of the religious zealots do, but just being around her, seeing her go through her day, you just feel..."
"Unworthy?" I suggested.
"No ... well, yeah ... a little, maybe," she said, "but, at the same time ... at the same time, somehow you know that it has nothing to do with you. It's just weird."
"Trust me," I said. "I know what you mean – alone on the streets for weeks, no idea what lay ahead, just living on faith ... I couldn't do it. And I don't mean I don't think I could do it; I mean my faith just doesn't go that far."
"Mine either," she admitted.
"And that's what bothers us," I said. "We wonder why we can't have that kind of faith, and what our lives would be like if we did."
"Are you sure you're only twenty-two?"
"You should feel sorry for me, Nicki; you've had decades to get this jaded."
"Yeah, and that's it, too," she said. "I am jaded, I've seen too much."
"True, but then you see her, and think about what she's seen – what she's been through – and yet she's not jaded – rather the experience seems to have deepened her faith – and it makes you wonder that much more."
"You're starting to depress me."
"Sorry," I said. "Do me a favor and keep me posted on what you find out. My source is going to have a lot of questions. I'm his go-to guy out here, but just like you – and, up until now, Atkins – I've been staying away. I'd like to have as much information for him as I can before he talks to Atkins."
"You really think he'll confront her?"
"Confront? No, but if it were you, wouldn't you want to know what she and Bastion were up to behind closed doors for two days? He put a lot of time and effort – not to mention money – into putting Bastion behind bars, and while dead is certainly an acceptable solution, I think it would have been better if the girls had seen him face justice."
"Yes," she said. "If nothing else, it might have gone a long way to restoring their faith in the system. I'll do my best to keep you informed."
I called Jamie back and took a couple minutes bringing her and Lizzy up to speed on the latest developments, then she went back to pass it all on to Allison while we drove back to Lizzy's house and prepared for what was looking to be a very busy night. Upon her return, Jamie informed us that Allison would be going to bed early.
I asked her if she was going back to stay with Allison, but she declined.
"I thought about it, but I'm thinking it's going to be a busy night, and I might need the extra energy."
Lizzy and I retired to my bedroom – the den – to 'watch television', and gee, we must have had a tougher day than we realized, because when Molly peeked in on us a half hour later, we were cuddled up asleep on the couch.
"Pathetic," she mumbled, shaking her head and turning off the television.
I think she was jealous.
Allison stated the obvious as soon as we had all gathered in the office, "We need to know what was going on between Atkins and Bastion."
"Oh, you think?" Jamie said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "The question is how? Or maybe just when, because that will probably determine how."
"Do you think it's too late to call?" I asked.
"You know," Lizzy pointed out, "it's possible she doesn't even know yet. Did Mrs. Spencer say anything about telling her?"
"Good point," I said. "No, Nicki didn't tell her; she didn't want to explain what she was doing there with Phoebe. I'm sure it will come out eventually but ... Don't you think the locals would have called her?"
"Maybe not," Allison pointed out. "Remember what Nicki said? About the cops not being happy with how the feds had bailed on them after they arrested Bastion? Atkins is higher up the chain; chances are not too many people know about her in the first place, and they are probably even less fond of her than they are of Spencer."
"Do we wait for her to call us, then?" Jamie asked. "Or do we do a little snooping ahead of time?"
"How?" Lizzy asked.
"Jamie left a little something behind the first time she visited Atkins, and..."
Naturally that's when my phone rang. I left Lizzy with Allison and went back to take the call. Show time.
"I'd say good evening, but, given the time, this can't be good.
"I suppose you've heard," Atkins said.
"If you're talking about Bastion being dead, then yes; Mrs. Spencer called me earlier. She didn't have any details beyond that just yet, so if you were hoping for information, I'm afraid I can't help you at the moment. I'm pretty sure she was planning to call you in the morning whether she knew more or not. She probably would have called tonight if she had enough information to justify waking you. Obviously, that's not a concern. How did you find out?"
She ignored the question. "I need to talk to your source; he said before to contact you and you would pass it along."
"I see," I said. "I'll do what I can, but I'm in California with my fiancé's family; it may take a while."
"It's not life threatening; I just need to talk to him."
"Okay, I'll let him know. I'm sure he'll contact me when he finds out about Bastion. I was already preparing to cut things short here and head back."
"I doubt there will be anything for you to do," she said. "Hardly worth canceling your vacation plans. I know that you and Miss Street don't get to see each other very often..."
"Right," I said, pulling my other phone out of my bag and hitting a button. "Like that would make a difference to you if you were in his position. We can be together in Vegas just as easily as here, and, for what he pays, I have no problem making myself available just in case he needs me."
My phone beeped, signaling another call coming in.
"Hold on a second, I've got another call coming in ... The number's blocked; it may be him. Do you want to hold? He won't leave a message."
"By all means," she said.
I switched lines and took a few seconds before switching back.
"It's him; I told him I had you on the other line and that you want to talk. I'm going to go and let you two chat; chances are he'll have a better idea what he needs from me after you're finished. Just call me back if you need anything else. Of course, if we're talking actual work here, then we're going to have to figure out a fee schedule..."
"I'll call you if I need you," she said. "I'm sorry to have to interrupt your vacation."
"It's not a problem," I said. "I'm used to it."
We broke the connection, and I waited a few minutes before letting Jamie call her back.
Jamie
Call me paranoid, but I had a really bad feeling about this conversation.
"Good evening Miss Atkins, David said you wanted to talk to me. I assume this has something to do with your recent visits to Elliott Bastion – since the details of his death haven't been released yet."
She didn't bother asking how I knew about her visit ... not good.
"You would be correct. The waste of flesh formerly known as Lord Hightower had some very interesting theories on how so many of his people ended up dead, and he himself behind bars. He actually believed that a single person was behind it all. At first, of course, I dismissed it as being impossible. How could one individual accomplish what the US government – with all the resources at its disposal – could not?"
This was not sounding good at all; that question had 'trap' written all over it.
"Come now, Sandra," I said. "There have been many instances where a lone person, operating – seemingly – independently, has been able to succeed where whole armies have failed, and, you have to admit, your resources were somewhat hampered by your mutual past."
"True enough," she conceded, "but you're talking about infiltration, and that's not what happened here; at least not in the conventional sense."
Okay, now I really didn't like the sound of this.
"Shit," Jimmy said. "He told her about me."
"I'm afraid I don't follow you," I said.
"No Justin," she said, the tone nothing short of accusatory, "I think you understand exactly what I'm saying. As I said, at first I dismissed his theories as a desperate attempt to find someone else to blame. The whole thing just sounded so far-fetched ... but that was exactly the reaction he would have expected from me, so he went a step further.
"He went on to explain to me exactly how he had twice gotten away with murder, and how that had led him to found the church and grow it into his own private empire. He claimed that he had the power to control peoples' minds; that he had used this ability to manipulate both the jury, and then his followers. He went on to discuss some of the other – more conventional – methods of persuasion he used to insure obedience in his select group of followers."
"Like torture and Blackmail?"
"Yes," she said, "along with the occasional disappearance – or outright death – of a wayward member. Do you know why he claimed to have sold Autumn into slavery?"
"No, the best we could come up with was that he wanted to make an example of her."
"He claimed he loved her too much to take her life, so he sent her away instead. Not in so many words, of course, but the implication was pretty clear."
"You're kidding," I said. "Why would he admit to all of this?"
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