Power Shift (Book 1)

Chapter 9: A Veiled Threat

Winning Option: Stick to the story he worked out with Nicole.

I have to believe Nicole stuck with the story. I look Gorman squarely in the eye, not wanting to appear like I’m hiding anything, and say as honestly as I can, “Officer, I know you’re suspicious. I would be, too. But I’ve been down this road with the police before and I’ve turned my life around. I have no idea what happened to me or why. I know that doesn’t help much, but that’s the God’s honest truth.”

Gorman looks at me for a moment, coughs once, then sighs. “Fine,” he says. I sit back but don’t take the bait. Police like you to add more information on your own. One thing I really did learn from my previous problems with the law was when to shut up.

“You were in for manslaughter?” he asks, knowing full well that’s the case.

“Yes, sir.”

“Drug deal gone wrong, if I recall.”

“Yes, sir. I didn’t know they were there to deal, and when things got bad I tried to get out of there.” That’s nothing he doesn’t already know. 

“And you ran over someone when the shooting started.”

He’s really trying to find my buttons, and he’s getting close. I take some deep breaths, and nod. “I panicked, hit the gas, and he ran in front of my car trying to get away from the gunfire.”

“He was there to sell drugs. He was being shot at. But he’d probably still be alive if not for you.”

There’s a faint crunching noise and I realize I’m gripping the arms of my chair a little too tightly. They’ve bent. “I know,” I tell him, letting go of the chair and putting my hands in my lap. “I’ll never forget that moment, or the look on his face, until the day I die.” This, also, is the absolute truth.

Gorman watches me, evaluating me, trying to see if I’m lying. I have no idea what he finally decides, but he leans across the table to me.

“Just be sure that whatever is going on more people aren’t going to die because of you.” He says it quietly, almost a whisper, but it roars in my ears. I nod. I can’t say anything else.

Gorman stands. “You’re free to go. But if you think of anything else, or get more information, Nicole knows how to reach me.”

I lick my lips and stand. “So you’re closing out the missing person case?”

He nods. “You’re not missing anymore.” He knocks on the door and someone opens it from the outside. “Have a good day, Mr. Stamp. Stay out of trouble.” And he’s gone.

Another officer pokes his head in and gestures me to follow him out.

###

Jennifer launches herself into my arms, squealing. “Oh my God, we were so worried!” I laugh, and pry the goofy young girl off me. I’d asked Nicole to stop at the Library on the way home so I could let them know I was back and see if I still had a job. Jennifer was a volunteer, and even though she was about eighteen she fancied herself the mother of everyone who worked there.

Nicole had stuck with the story, but was even less happy about it than before we went in. But it was behind us now, and she admitted being as relieved as I was. I told her the pressure Gorman had put on me and she had scowled but said nothing. She was now watching the reception with some amusement.

Jennifer grabs my hand and races me through the library towards the offices, yelling. This doesn’t go well with either the patrons or the people working, who pop up from stacks and desks like prairie dogs to see what’s going on. When they see it’s me they all grin and run over. By the time we reach the offices I’m at the head of a mini parade.

Doug Messner, the Library Director, was just coming out to see what the fuss was about when we get to his door. “Holy Hot Hell!” he yells and grabs my hand. “Brandon! Are you okay? We were worried sick!” He’s a grizzled old dude with a barrel chest you’d expect to see on a battlefield rather than in a library, but he is a master with both the people and the books.

I’m grinning as I shake his hand. I used to worry his grip would crack my hand, now I’m careful to avoid the reverse. 

“I’m okay,” I tell him. “Still not sure what happened, but I just got back from the police trying to sort this out. I was, um, kind of hoping you hadn’t filled my spot yet.”

Doug guffaws. “Son, you think bureaucracy got legs while you were gone? We couldn’t have filled your spot that fast if we tried, and we sure as hell didn’t! Get in here and tell us what the blazes happened to you!” He pounds me on the back and gestures to one of the conference rooms. Relief floods through me, and I realize that after Nicole this job was the thing I was most scared of losing.

We talk for about half an hour and I tell them everything I told the police. They’re just as amazed as the cops but a lot more accepting. A few of the older ones mutter about the state of the world these days, and some of the younger ones almost seem to think it is kind of cool, but they’re all happy to see me back. Doug needs to clear up some paperwork but thinks I should be able to come back in about two days. Finally they all drift back off to their jobs and I head home with Nicole for the night.

On the ride home I feel relaxed for the first time in this whole very long, very strange day. Nicole is exhausted, but I feel fine. I wonder if I even have to sleep, or if it’s just the adrenaline keeping me going. We stop for take-out, chow it down, and Nicole crashes without even cleaning up after dinner. I’m still not tired, but I lay down with her anyway just so I can feel her in my arms. I kiss her head as she drifts off. Her breathing grows quiet and slow, and as I relax I fade off to sleep myself.

The next morning she’s still sleeping as I pull my arm out from under her and wander out to clean up and make some breakfast. The take-out boxes get scrunched down into the trash, and I make a mental note to take it out before it starts to get stinky. I must have made more noise than I thought because Nicole calls my name from the bedroom.

“Just cleaning up, baby. Go back to sleep if you want,” I tell her.

She replies with a sleepy mumble but I hear her getting out of bed and heading to the bathroom. On the table is the pamphlet the Mormons left yesterday, and it makes me chuckle. On the front is a picture of a very kind looking Jesus, clad all in white, apparently preaching to some Native Americans. Does anyone really get converted by these things? I flip it open.

“Shit…”, I say.

Nicole must have heard me. “What’s the matter?” she calls from the bathroom.

Inside the pamphlet isn’t Jesus, it’s a message written in a thick, black ink.

“You have two days. Choose your path or we will choose it for you.

Gen 19:25-26 

- M.”

I know those verses. My hand starts shaking. Nicole comes out of the bathroom. “Baby… what is it?”

I can’t tell her.

Does Brandon:
1. Track down the “Mormons” who left the pamphlet? (Winning Choice)
2. Research more about “M.” at the Library?
3. Decide which way he wants to use his powers?

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