Free Captured Lies by Maggie Thom Page A

ruin
me!
    He knew she’d been hiding
something from him. His hands clenched, his body rigid, his breathing shallow
and rapid as he sat there staring at what he had feared for almost 30 years.
    Somehow, the old bat had found
her.
    He had thought that maybe he was
home free. That since nothing had surfaced in such a long time, nothing would
now. After all, no one knew his secret and it was much older than that. Sitting
back, he took a few deep breaths before reaching into his jacket pocket for his
cell phone. It had been a call he’d rehearsed ten to twenty times a day for the
first couple of years.
    When nothing had happened, he’d
accepted that he’d gotten away with it. He’d gotten complacent. Now he had to
pay.
    Dialing the number that he knew
would go to the grave emblazoned on his brain, he waited for the several clicks
that let him know it was being rerouted. He never understood all that techno
junk but he’d been smarter than the old hag and he’d kept up with at least how
to use it. This call would be hard for someone to trace, even for the FBI with
all their fancy equipment.
    He’d been leaving the man
messages on a regular basis for thirty years but he never thought there’d be a
need to change their relationship. John had come into his life at a time he’d
needed him. And John had taken care of his problem. Or so he’d thought.
    After Mary and baby Cassidy had
died, or supposedly had died, he and John had struck a bargain. He still wasn’t
sure how they’d gotten to that point. But he did know that John brought him the
best whores there were. Discreetly, of course.
    His hand shook as he dialed. They
hadn’t talked face to face in twenty-nine years. Their weekly arrangement was
done by leaving messages for each other on an untraceable voicemail. One that
deleted all information once listened to. No one would have understood the
weird messages anyway. It was a code they’d worked out. And it had served him
well for a very long time. This call would change all that. This time he called
the number that was for emergencies only. One he’d never had to call before.
    “John, it’s me.”
    There was silence for a long
time. “I take it there’s a problem.”
    “Yes. Babies are cute, aren’t
they? After twenty-nine years, having one come back from the grave is a little
disturbing.” He filled John in with all he knew. His anger was palpable over
the phone.
    “She took Mary’s life. She won’t
be an issue for long. But this will cost you.”
    With reluctance he agreed to
John’s exorbitant fee, knowing that after this they’d be severing ties. Which
meant he’d have to find someone else to feed his particular habits.
    The line went dead.
    His hand was shaking so bad, he
had a hard time hitting the end button. He mopped his forehead again cursing
his mother and father. It was their fault he was in this bind. If his father
could have kept his pants zipped, he wouldn’t have had to keep his secret from
the world - he wasn’t pure Caspian blood. He wouldn’t have been treated like a
leper. He put the folders back in the drawer, closed and locked it. The keys
slid easily into the end of the cane.
    All of a sudden, there was a
steady hum sound. Startled, he flinched and the rubber end shot out of his
hand. Listening he realized the house staff were polishing the front foyer. To
keep the house spotless and to intrude the least during the day, they worked
after everyone was in bed. Swearing silently, he looked around the dark room.
He picked up the flashlight and shone it, slowly sweeping the light across the
floor. It was dark and hard to see much of anything with his thin beam of
light. He was tempted to fully open the full length curtains that were only a
couple of inches apart but knew that would draw attention in the middle of the
night. The curtains remained closed every night and the guard that prowled the
place would surely notice if they were wide open. Not knowing how else to find
the stupid