Marked For Murder

Chapter Two

     Mayor Carmichael finally got home  after spending over five more hours than usual at the office. After parking in the garage, he made his way to his study and shut himself of from the rest of the world.

     Usually, when he was in his study, he gave himself a fine time by indulging in his vast collection of books that lined the walls, shelved in grand oak wood shelves. A decanter of scotch, his tobacco pipe and John Grisham's The Client usually made sure he went to bed a happy man. But today, fine alcohol and literary genius were the least on his mind.

     Twenty years ago, he had come to Brownlee looking to start a new life. He had easily won the town's favour, and in five years, was contesting for the office of Mayor. When he was elected without term limit, he got to work immediately. 

     Over the past fifteen years, he had been transforming Brownlee to the perfect town. Prosperous citizens with prosperous jobs, clean roads and streams, parks and forest, basically anything you could think of.

     While other towns and even major cities suffered from a recession and were dealing with its aftermath, Mayor Carmichael was giving his citizens their best life. And it was all thanks to FitFarm, Mayor Carmichael's first project as Mayor, one of the largest producers and distributors of fitness and physical boosters in the West.

     At least that was what the Memorandum of Association said. Whatever FitFarm really did that raked in so much profit was nobody's concern. Up until now.

     Five highschool students had turned up dead, one of them being his own child. But he had no time to grieve his loss.

     The beautiful paradise he had slaved to build for fifteen years was going to be torn apart because some stupid Sheriff, for some reason unbeknownst to him, had decided to report this information to the Chief Inspector, who had in turn ordered that he dispatch an investigation team.

     Now, the money and  relative power that came with being Mayor went a long way to shut some people up and tie up many loose ends.

     He had amassed quite a number of helpers, helpers that would jump off Riverdale cliff if he so much as asked. But the Chief Inspector? He answered directly to the Commissioner who, in turn, answered directly to the Governor of Chicago. His power had its limits.

     He had spent the entire day thinking of how to tie things up nicely. He hadn't been too bothered until he received a call from one of his business partners. His phone had rung at 4:30 and when he saw the caller, he thanked God he was on a lunch break, away from the office.

   "Jamie." He tried to sound as cheerful as he could. Maybe it would disguise his slight panic and make it look like everything was under control. "I never expected you to call. What's up?"

   "Don't play dumb Mitch. You know exactly what's up. It's on the news everywhere. But just in case you don't know, the Sheriff of Baker County is dispatching an investigation team, to your little town. But I'm pretty sure that little piece of info couldn't have slipped past you."

     His condescending tone irked Carmichael. The last thing he needed was a cubbie on his tail. He could handle things in his town perfectly well and he told Jamie exactly that.

   "Look Jamie, I'm aware. And unlike what you think, I'm not just sitting around on my sorry ass waiting for the FBI to come sniff me out. I know exac-"

   "Hello Mitchell." The voice he heard over the phone was one he knew too well. And it was not a good type of familiarity.

     Agedashi Yohama was a ruthless ex aide to Ascarbo, a famous drug dealer in Mexico and Southern America. After breaking off from his old cartel, he came to the U.S and started his own little network of druggies.