Evil Agreement Page 11

  “Please help me,” said the young boy through a shortness of breath. Blood now dripped from his mouth.

  “C’mon, somebody please.”

  “By the power given to me by Moloch...” said the Judge.

  “Who in the fuck is Moloch?” demanded the boy.

  “You will soon know him,” said The Reverend.

  “...and may you serve him well,” finished the Judge.

  Yandow knelt down and reached inside of the truck.

  “You fuckers,” cried the boy.

  His neck snapped to the right as Yandow ended his pain and his life.

  “Take her to Ed Foley,” said the Reverend. “I want her alive for tomorrow’s ceremony. He’ll know what to do.”

  “Where do I put her?” asked Yandow.

  “In the back seat. Trainor will ride in the back seat with her. The Judge and I will ride in the front with you.”

  “Okay with me, c’mon Chuck, give me a hand will yuh?” said Yandow.

  The two headed over to Brittany and picked her up and headed back to the car.

  The Judge stood next to the truck. He had a match box out. He struck a wooden match and tossed it under the truck. In a moment there was a whoosh sound as the dripping gasoline on the ground caught fire.

  The Judge turned and walked away with the Reverend, they both headed to the car. Brittany, still unconscious, was now in the back of the car. When the Judge and the Reverend were about twenty feet from the car the truck’s gas tank exploded. Since the truck was upside down, the brunt of the fiery explosion blew skyward. The explosion also caused the truck to completely catch fire. The concussion from the explosion nearly knocked the two older men over. They scampered to the car and climbed into the front seat. The car backed up a few feet and half turned around.

  As the car pulled away from the crash scene, Yandow looked into his rearview mirror. He could see the burning truck, its light filling up the mirror. His eyes focused upon the burning body strapped inside of the cab.

  The burning scene disappeared from view as the car moved away, around a small curve and over a short hill.

  14

  Aaron slipped the hostess an extra twenty. In a couple of minutes, Korie and he were led to a small table to the left of the stage. A local band was playing a mean rendition of Dust My Blues by Elmore James. The size of the crowd at Cambridge’s House of Blues was above average. Even though the place was air conditioned, it still was hot due to the crowded conditions and the gyrating energetic pulse of a large group of people getting into the music.

  Aaron began to nod his head in time with the music as soon as they were seated. The band was tight—their blend of blues riffs with a traditional brass overlay held sway over the mostly middle age crowd. Aaron and Korie were seated close enough to the stage that the sound of music emanating from the amplifiers drowned out any possibility of polite conversation. Korie pulled her chair around so she could look at the band. This placed her closer to Aaron. He smiled at her, leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

  The band finished their song to a rousing applause from the appreciative audience.

  The lead singer stepped up to the microphone and called out to a woman sitting over at the bar.

  “Sylvia, hey, come work with us? What do you say we do Koko’s Mother Nature? C’mon folks, help us to get Sylvia to come on down,” said the singer as he encouraged the room to clap their hands as a form of encouragement.

  The woman waved off the entreaties of the crowd. This just produced the opposite effect. The crowd made even more noise. Some began to whistle and hoot.

  Aaron really got into this crowd exercise. He stood up and shouted, “Sylvia, who loves you?”

  His effort seemed to elicit a response from the woman as she left her seat and began to work her way through the crowd.

  Soon she was helped up onto the stage. She nodded to the crowd and favored them with a friendly grin. Sylvia looked over to where Aaron was seating.

  She took the microphone in hand, removing it from its upright stand. Now looking at Aaron she said, “This one’s for you, lover.”

  The crowd broke up with laughter and applause.

  Now Sylvia looked directly at Korie and said with a wink, “Honey, he’s a keeper, if you know what I mean.”

  The music started with a soulful guitar riff pulling in a solid bass line and drum riff. Sylvia followed with a powerful throaty voice that called out to the room, “don’t mess with Mother Nature, cause you’ll be sorry if you do.”

  The song was one of those great blues number’s with a traditional slow back beat that just called to your soul. Soon everyone in the room was swaying to the rhythm of the music.

  Korie even got into the spirit of the moment.

  As the song ended, everyone stood up and gave Sylvia a rousing ovation. She blew everyone a kiss and stepped from the stage.

  As she headed back to her seat, Korie leaned over and through the noise managed to playfully ask, “She seems to know you rather well.”

  “Yeah, she does.”

  “Oh, how so?”

  “She used to sing with my band.”

  “Well, you sure are a man of mystery. You have a band?”

  “Sort of, some teacher friends and I have this blues band and well, we just like the music, you know, like the music is good for the soul kind of thing.”

  “And Sylvia?”

  “Yeah, she’s got a great voice. She used to teach math at the middle school in town.”

  “Use to? What happened?”

  “Breast cancer. Last year she had a double mastectomy, chemotherapy, and all that. She’s doing okay She can’t work right now because she’s too weak. You see those three other women that she’s with?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “They’re all teachers, too. They’re her support group. She can’t sing with our band because she gets too tired. Over the years she has sung with several local blues bands that have performed here. She’s known by a lot of people. Everyone just loves her. She’s got a gift in that voice of hers. I’m glad she’s well enough to get out for some fun.”

  “She sounds special.”

  “Yeah, she’s special. Sylvia’s a fighter.”

  Just then a waiter stopped at their table. They both ordered some beer and dinner.

  A new band was just finishing setting up. They were another local band from the seacoast area of New Hampshire. The band consisted of a three-piece horn section, a lead guitarist, rhythm guitar, bass, drums, keyboard player and a female singer. She was somewhat tall with long blond hair. She wore a small black dress. The band wore black suits and white shirts. The bass player wore dark glasses. The average age of the band members was definitely under thirty.

  They began to play with a passion and skill that caught the attention of the room. Halfway into their first song, the audience gave them a boost with approving applause. The room was into the music.

  Their drinks were brought to their table. Some people in the room were dancing to the music in whatever space they could find. Korie and Aaron were thoroughly enjoying themselves. Soon their dinner was served. The night passed quickly.

  ***

  Ed Townsend pulled off of Interstate 89. He drove under the highway and pulled into an all night gas station combination convenience store. He was about twenty miles north of Concord, New Hampshire. He topped off his gas tank. This was his second car of the night. He had rented this car at the Lebanon, New Hampshire Airport. He left his own vehicle parked at a Motel Six parking lot. He rented a room at the motel for three nights. He told the clerk he was going to leave his car in the lot for the duration because he was going to be picked up by a co-worker. He also left word that he didn’t want his room disturbed because he would be working late hours and would need his rest. The counter clerk quietly agreed, especially when Ed handed her a couple of tens, to ensure her understanding of his request.

  After he had paid for the gas, he started up his car and pulled to th
e side of the parking lot. He turned his overhead light on as he studied the map. He spotted what he was looking for. He was headed for the Manchester, New Hampshire Airport. There he would again rent a car as well as find a safe haven for his current vehicle. Before the sun would rise he will have traded cars at the Providence, Rhode Island Airport and Boston’s Logan Airport too.

  He drank his coffee black, one sugar. That night, he drank several cups to help him stay awake. At six thirty in the morning, he pulled his last rental car to a stop under the portico of the Comfort Inn in Cambridge, Massachusetts. He checked in and headed to his room. He unlocked the door and turned on the light from the wall switch. He dropped his small overnight bag onto the bed. Ed used his cell phone to make a phone call.

  “Yeah, I’m in town. Never mind where. Yeah, uh-huh. Okay. Look I need to get some shut-eye. I’ll meet you at Quincy Market under the rotunda at two, sharp. You’d better bring me an address and anything else you can get. And don’t be late.”

  He closed his flip phone and placed it on the nightstand. He went back to the door and hung the “do not disturb” sign on the outside handle. He turned off the overhead light and proceeded to unpack his overnight bag in the semi-darkness. He untied his shoes, kicked them off and stretched out on the bed. In a few moments, he was sound asleep.

  ***

  Aaron had driven Korie home and spent the night. He slipped out midmorning and drove to his place. He packed a suitcase. Aaron took a relaxing shower. After the shower, he took his suitcase and drove back to Korie’s place. As he entered the unlocked front door he immediately noticed the aroma of pancakes and sausage coming from the kitchen. He headed for the kitchen.

  “Smells great,” he quipped.

  Korie was standing at the stove with her back to him. She was wearing a short robe. Her long slender legs caught his eye.

  Korie didn’t turn around at hearing his voice. She just shrugged her shoulders.

  Sensing that something was wrong Aaron went up to her and touched her shoulders. She didn’t seem to respond to his touch. He turned her around. She had a spatula in her right hand. Korie hung her head down. She didn’t want to look him in the eye right now. He lifted her chin and immediately saw that she had been crying.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She dropped the spatula on the countertop and threw her arms around him. Her hug was powerful.

  “I...thought you weren’t coming back,” she whispered.

  “But Korie, I...”

  “Never mind, just hold me.”

  After a long moment she pulled back from him and kissed his cheek.

  “Stupid, huh?” she said as she pulled her hair behind her ears with her left hand.

  “No, not at all,” he smiled.

  “Uh, sit down, breakfast is ready.”

  Aaron went to the table and sat down as Korie served breakfast. They ate and talked for the next hour.

  Finally Aaron mentioned he had slipped out earlier and packed a suitcase full of clothes. He was eager to head to Vermont.

  “C’mon, Korie, I’ll help you pack.”

  “No thanks, I can handle that myself. Now, how long do you expect this adventure to take?” she said as she sipped her cup of coffee.

  “Two or three days, tops. I just want to see it myself, maybe check out Vermont while we’re there. I hear it’s as pretty as a postcard. If it goes any longer than that, we’ll buy clothes up there. See, problem solved.”

  “You’re so smart.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Conceited, too!”

  “Uh-huh.”

  They had a good laugh together.

  Korie put their dishes on the counter and headed to her bedroom.

  “It’ll take a while, so why don’t you relax in the living room.”

  “Sure.”

  When she entered the bedroom she could hear water running in the kitchen sink. Aaron was beginning to wash the breakfast dishes. This fact amused her and brought a smile to her face. She went to her walk-in closet and pulled a large suitcase out of the back. She heaved it onto her bed and proceeded to fill it to overflowing.

  Before setting off for Vermont, they stopped at Korie’s landlord’s house. She told them that she was going to be away for few days and could they watch her cottage for her. They agreed and reminded her to lock the front door.

  They immediately left Plymouth, Massachusetts, for Vermont at a few minutes past 1:00 p.m. Aaron planned to reach Montpelier, Vermont, by dinnertime.

  ***

  Ed arrived early for his meeting with his informer. The crowds at Quincy Market were less congested at this time of day. Nevertheless, there was still a good crowd. He spotted her coming in from the Faneuil Hall entrance a few minutes before two o’clock.

  Their eyes met. Ed was standing at a lunch counter eating some fish and chips that he had bought a moment ago. His contact went over to the N.Y. Deli and bought a sandwich. She headed over to Ed’s lunch counter and stood opposite of him.

  Unwrapping her sandwich she said, “He’s for real. Yesterday he met with the Powell Family lawyer in our firm. He seemed quite interested in the Vermont property. He was with a young woman. I couldn’t get her name.”

  “That’s it?” scowled Ed.

  “No, there’s more, here, see for yourself,” she said as she slipped him a small manila envelope.

  He opened the envelope and pulled out several papers. He read them slowly. She ate her sandwich in small bites. She was afraid of Ed. She hoped she had performed well. That decision, however, was his alone to render.

  “This is good. We now know where he lives, what he does for a living. Yes, this is good.”

  “Thanks.”

  “What about his accounts, his resources, assets, that sort of thing?”

  “I don’t think I can get to that stuff. That information is probably under lock and key in Lowenstein’s office safe. I know I can’t get access to that. The stuff I brought you I managed to get by buddying up with his legal secretary. She’s a gossip. It was almost too easy, but it’s all she knows. I swear.”

  “Okay, but keep working on it. Look, I’ve got to go now. I’ll be in touch,” he said as he wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. Ed put the papers back inside the envelope and stuffed the envelope in his suit coat pocket. The manila envelope stuck out of his pocket. He took his plate over to the trash can, tossed his garbage inside and walked out the same door she had entered just minutes before.

  She finished her sandwich and felt more relaxed now that he was gone. She realized her work on behalf of the coven and Moloch was vital. Indeed, she believed what she had just handed him was the breakthrough they had all been waiting for.

  Checking her watch, she realized she needed to hurry back to work. She tossed her nearly finished sandwich into the garbage and took her soft drink with her. She headed out the Faneuil Hall entrance and proceeded back towards her office. The summertime crowd in this part of Boston is always heavy. Pedestrians seldom wait for the crosswalk signals before hurrying across traffic filled streets. She moved with the flow and now found herself standing at a curb. A young courier on roller blades rushed past.

  She had no idea she was being stalked. Ed was just a few feet behind her. The crowd stepped from the curb and rushed across the street. Cars trying to speed through honked their horns in anger at the pedestrians who had darted in front of them, causing the drivers to come to a sudden stop. She had hesitated and hadn’t followed the first rush of people across the street.

  Perfect, he thought.

  A tourist trolley was coming down the street closely followed by a large truck bearing the advertising for a regional brewery. She saw these vehicles and held back from trying to cross the street. After these two, she noticed there was no traffic and there would be time to cross.

  Just as the trolley passed by with its loudspeaker blaring, she felt a push from behind. She lost her balance and fell face first into the street. Her soft drink flew from her hand as she tr
ied to stop her fall. She fell into the shadow of the oncoming truck. It would be the shadow of her death. The driver of the truck saw her tumble forward directly in front of his left front wheel. He hit his brakes but it was too late. He felt the bump of her body as his truck rolled over her. The driver felt sick to his stomach. He felt another bump as the twin rear tires rolled over her body as well. He had been going only twenty five miles an hour. The truck came to a stop in a few feet. He jumped from his truck to help the woman.

  A couple of woman screamed and held each other. A man jogging down the street stopped a few feet from her body. The truck had rolled over her upper body. Her head was crushed. Her arms, sprawled in front of her, were broken too. Her purse lay at her side. A spilled soft drink container rolled along the street. The jogger pulled a cell phone from his fanny pack and dialed 911.

  “She fell into the street. I couldn’t stop, I couldn’t stop,” said the truck driver. A police officer on horseback followed by another officer on a bicycle arrived on the scene. The officer on horseback radioed for a police car and an ambulance. He was told that both were already on route. The officer on the bicycle dropped his bicycle and knelt next to the victim. He checked her pulse. Nothing.

  Ed watched and waited for the arrival of the ambulance. No one had noticed his pushing her in front of the truck. Everybody was too busy and distracted with their own lives to notice much. The ambulance arrived in a few minutes. The EMTs checked her over just in case there was a chance to save her life. The results were the same, she was dead. A police officer took photos of the scene after which the EMTs covered her body with a white sheet. An officer picked up her purse and began to look through it for identification. Two other officers began to speak to the crowd to see if anyone had noticed anything. People’s heads just shook no to the questions. Before the police could question Ed, he decided to move along.