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- Herausgeber: WS
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Serie: Mysteries Across Time
- Sprache: Englisch
Kassidy Mays' husband Micahel is accused off murder and thrown into jail. She is thrown into a world of deception, murder, and lies. Not exactly what she imagined "For better or for worse" meant! But she has time travel on her side.
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Seitenzahl: 517
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022
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Pain Point
A Mystery Across Time
Hollis Oliver
This is a work of fiction, all characters, events, and organizations portrayed, are either products of the authors imagination and purely coincidental. Or they are complimentary—out of admiration—and used in a fictitious manner.
Pain Point – A Mystery Across Time
Book Three in the “Mysteries Across Time” series
www.hollisoliver.com
Copyright © 2022 by Hollis Oliver
All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any type of retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopied, recorded, or otherwise—without prior permission of the author and the publisher.
DUSTY RAIN PUBLISHING
Washington, USA
ISBN 979-8-9894368-3-5
First Edition: May 2022
Printed in the United States
0 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
Contents
I dedicate this book to my family.
You are a blessing, not a Pain Point!
Introduction
For those who haven’t read “Debts Unsettled” book one, and/or “Future Tense,” book two of the “Mysteries Across Time Series,” in this third novel the protagonist—Portland, Oregon based intellectual property attorney Michael Mays—is back.
In book one, Michael traveled back and forth between the past and present, chasing a serial killer while attempting to solve his mother’s murder, which had gone unsolved for 30 years.
While time traveling, a serial killer, his hit men, and a ruthless hit woman named Katrina Kane, menaced his life, the life of his grandmother—the woman who raised him—and the lives of his friends.
The story began when Michael stopped to check out a yard sale. His purchase of a book from a young man named Jacob precipitated the chain of events in Debts Unsettled. The following week, Michael met Jacob’s mother, Linda Curt, owner of the yard sale and an RN at a Portland, Oregon hospital. Through harrowing circumstances, Michael became Linda’s best friend, and Jacob’s godfather.
While being treated for traumatic injuries in the same hospital where Linda worked, Michael’s physician, Bill Langdon, subsequently became Linda’s fiancé.
Knowing a key discovery Michael made in the first book will help you follow and understand as you read this installment of the story—Michael discovered that the time he was able to spend in the past, was related to the number of pages he had read in the book.
—Jere Van Dyk, Pulitzer Prize nominee, New York Times Reporter, CBS Correspondent, and author:
“When you pick this book up, you cannot put it down. This is a crime novel unlike any I have read, moving from the present to the past, and back again. It evokes the Northwest, from its tall Douglas Firs to its friendly, open people. There is a sympathetic hero, a man who has suffered, who knows the law, technology, the music business, and how to fight. There is love, unremitting tension, and there is danger. It will keep up you at night.”
Tap here to go to the Debts Unsettled Amazon Page
In book two, nearly a year has passed since book one ended. Michael formed an artist management group with Kassidy Frank, an attorney who was an adversary in book one.
Someone is shooting on-stage artists; Michael and Kassidy manage two of the hottest artists on the planet: pop star Leanna Jones and country star Levi James. Michael also becomes a target. He is mistakenly transported six months into the future, where hired assassins pursued him. His fear isn’t when and if he’ll get back, it’s whether he’ll survive in the meantime.
In his flight to escape the assassin’s deadly aim, he meets truck drivers Henry Burns and Jerod Lang. Henry is a retired Virginia State Police Captain, a graduate of West Point, and a Green Beret sniper. He drives a delivery van for his son’s whiskey distillery.
Jerod is a long-haul truck driver from Canby, Oregon, and a metal fabricator extraordinaire.
Both truck drivers are avid hunters.
Together, through extreme peril, the three forge a lifelong bond.
Tap here to go to the Future Tense Amazon Page
Book Three: Four months have passed between book two— “Future Tense”—and “Pain Point.” Michael and Kassidy Frank are now married. She is also an intellectual property attorney and his business partner.
Bill Langdon and Linda Curt got married and they—and her son Jacob—are still close friends with Michael and Kassidy.
Pain Point begins with an unexpected visit from the future by Henry Burns to warn them of danger looming on their horizon.
Henry, materializing behind the photographer, startled Michael and Kassidy, causing them to break their pose.
The photographer, surprised by Michael and Kassidy’s reaction, turned and looked behind her to see what had caused them to break.
She saw Henry, less than an arm’s length away. Taking a quick step back while thrusting her arms out to shove Henry, threw her off balance. She slammed into her camera’s tripod.
Michael rushed forward and used one hand to catch her equipment. He extended his other hand toward the photographer in case she stumbled and fell.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” Henry said. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Other than turning and glaring at Michael and Kassidy, she didn’t respond.
“It’s okay,” Michael said as he stood the tripod and camera back in place. “He’s a friend.”
She gave a nervous laugh and took a quick look at Henry before removing her camera from the tripod. “I didn’t hear a door open, or anyone walk in,” she said as tears glistened and her hands fumbled to disconnect the camera from the tripod. “He frightened me. Why did you let him do that? If that’s how you treat guests, never call me again.”
She wiped her eyes with her sleeve and hurried to the dining room table. She stuffed her camera equipment into their carrying cases and slammed them shut. “I’ll email you the photos, along with my invoice.” She snatched the cases from the table while saying, “I’ll suggest the best shots for your Christmas cards.” She turned and said, “Unlike you, I’m a professional.” Without another look or word, she stormed from the house.
Michael had folded and packed her lights and their tripods. With the cases in hand, he followed her and helped load them into her van.
She threw down the rear hatch and rushed to the driver’s door.
He said, “I’m truly sorry. Please—”
She spun on her heels and said, “You shouldn’t have allowed what’s causing you to apologize. That was… was cruel.” She climbed into the van, slammed the door, started the engine, and jetted away from the curb, barely missing an oncoming car.
Michael stood watching her disappear around a corner. He wiped his hands down his face, gave a deep sigh, then turned and walked back to the house.
He opened the door, but hesitated before entering. Henry and Kassidy were sitting in the living room. Max, their coal black rescue kitten, had hopped onto Kassidy’s lap, re-confirming she’s still his favorite human.
Michael held the door open while studying them.
He sensed they had begun a discussion, but not a “Good to see you, how have you been,” discussion. Kassidy patted the sofa cushion next to her. Michael closed the door then sat while watching Henry, who was sitting in a leather, winged-back chair across from them. Both of Henry’s arms rested on the chair’s arms; his hands gripped the arm ends. His knuckles had turned white as his fingertips rubbed the brass upholstery tacks.
“First,” Henry said, “I’m sorry I scared the young woman. Not my intention.”
Michael wiped his hand down his mouth and chin, then sighed. “Yeah… it wasn’t your fault. The book places you where it wants to; there wasn’t much room behind her for you to materialize. But there’s nothing we can do about that now.”
Kassidy said, “Yes, there is. I’ll send her an apology along with a gift to express our gratitude.”
Michael nodded and said, “Great idea, and double the gratuity you would normally add,”
He looked at Henry. “Two questions. What’s going on? And how did you get here today?”
Kassidy raised a card she was holding in her right hand and gave it to Michael. “He used this,” she said.
A photograph taken by the frightened photographer was on the front of the card. Inside, Kassidy had written, “Henry, Michael and I wish you a wonderful Christmas. We understand how important it is we get this card to you.”
Michael turned toward Kassidy and narrowed his eyes. “Apparently, you placed this in the safe-deposit box I set up in Roanoke. When were you there?”
“It must be when I’m in Virginia for Leanna’s upcoming Virginia Beach concert.”
Henry said, “Right. I stopped at the bank and checked on my way to visit Augazell.”
“Okay, I see how you got here; so what’s going on, Henry?” Michael said, as he leaned forward and studied Henry’s face. “Whatever it is, it can’t be good.”
“It’s not good,” Henry said. His face had taken on an ashen cast; he seemed to age as he spoke.
Michael glanced at Kassidy, then back to Henry.
“It’s Li Jing Chan.” Henry said. “She’s coming for us.”
“I haven’t heard that name in four months.”
“It’s only been two weeks for me. I don’t know how she traced back to me, but she’s made it clear—both of us will die.”
“Hold it… hold it,” Kassidy said. “Who is Li Jing Chan, and why would she want to kill you?”
Henry looked at Michael, deferring to him for an explanation.
“Remember me telling you the story of rescuing Robyn Trenary from Baltimore’s number one sex-trade trafficker?”
“Of course.”
“Li Jing Chan is that sex-trade trafficker. We rescued Robyn from a pimp who worked for Li Jing. And we fouled her plan to sell Henry’s granddaughter to the highest bidder.”
Henry said, “Not to mention Michael shot one of her henchmen, and I threatened her family.”
“Okay. I can see why she might hold a grudge,” Kassidy said with a slender smile. “So, how has she made it clear?”
“She’s begun with intimidation, but there’s no doubt it will escalate until she’s finished playing her games. This morning, I opened my front door to grab the newspaper and read it while having coffee on my porch swing. Someone had placed a box—a few feet in front of my door—with an envelope taped to it. I removed the envelope; what I read on the handwritten note caused me to fall back into a wicker chair.”
Henry paused.
Kassidy looked at Michael, then back to Henry and said, “What did it say?”
He pulled the note from his back pocket and handed it to Kassidy.
Kassidy read, “‘Please accept this gift from your favorite dry cleaner lady and her two friends. I can’t wait to give you and your friend Michael my next gift.’”
She handed the note to Michael.
They sat in silence until Michael said, “There’s only one way she could have found you. Fingerprints from when you picked up the framed photograph of her and her family. We didn’t wipe it down.”
Henry looked at the floor for a few seconds.
He looked up and said, “That must be it. That means she has a connection inside law enforcement.”
“That’s frightening,” Michael said as he let out a deep breath and looked at Max dozing, oblivious to anything other than Kassidy’s hand stroking his neck. Michael looked at Henry. “What did you do with the gift box?”
“I gambled… I doubted her thugs were savvy enough to wire a mercury tilt switch, so I faced my front door. Picking up the box with both hands, I spun as fast as I could toward the sidewalk and flung it high. I dove behind a brick planter I built years ago for my wife. I was hoping I’d built it as strong as my memory suggested.”
Henry hesitated again.
Kassidy said, “And?” as she slid forward, Max jumped to the floor in search of a calmer napping spot.
“My favorite cake splattered across the sidewalk.”
Michael chuckled, and said, “What a waste.” He could see Henry didn’t find humor in his comment, and followed it up with, “How did she know German chocolate is your favorite cake?”
“I don’t know. How did she know our names and my address? What else does she know about us, and who is giving her the information?”
Kassidy glanced at Michael, then back to Henry and said, “How can we help?”
“Michael and I made a great team, as good as any I’ve experienced.” He studied Michael’s face as he said, “I want you to come with me to help stop her.”
“Not without me,” Kassidy said as she thrusted her hands out and leaned forward. “I agree Michael should go—but I’m coming, too.”
Michael studied Kassidy’s eyes for a few seconds, then turned. “Henry, if I’ve learned anything about Kassidy, it’s that she possesses one of my grandmother’s strongest traits. Once she sets her mind, get out of her way… you won’t stop her. To ease your mind, we’ve been going to the range every week. She even hired a coach to train us. She’s a heck of a shot. And between her and Leanna running me on beaches and up and down mountains,” he looked at Kassidy and smiled, “they’ve helped me get in the best shape I’ve ever been.”
Distracted by checking his phone’s timer, Henry said halfheartedly, “You were in excellent shape on our last adventure.” He looked up. “I have five and a half minutes. Let’s see how fast you both can get ready.”
Kassidy jumped up, turned without a word, and disappeared through a doorway. Michael looked at Henry, smiled, shrugged, and followed her. Henry could hear them running down a stairway.
Five minutes later, they came running up the stairs. Both had a backpack slung over their shoulders. Kassidy continued tucking a black turtleneck shirt into her black and gray camo pants as she hurried to the kitchen.
Michael wore similar clothing. Both had a 9mm pistol strapped to their hip and extra magazines in their backpack. Each had a pepper spray canister attached to a quick release carabiner hanging from one of their front backpack straps. Both wore black, all-terrain hiking boots.
Kassidy was pulling a black wool beanie over her ears as she rushed back into the living room.
Michael looked at her and said, “Where’d you go?”
Smiling, she said, “To make sure Max had food and water.” She joined Michael on the opposite side of Henry; he wrapped an arm around each there waist.
Without warning, a warm, omni-directional wind hit them; they dissolved into the future.
Max—curled up on a padded side chair—jolted, looked around, then went back to working on a nap.
They materialized on a side-street. “Where are we?” Michael said.
“Baltimore.”
Maple trees lined both sides of the street. The trees framed brick row-houses. Porch lamps, cutting through the approaching darkness, caused the pastel colored wood trim work to stand out.
“So, you got the message from Li Jing and came here?” Michael said.
Henry smiled. “After I finished my coffee and read my newspaper.”
“I know better than to ask this question, but what’s your plan?”
Kassidy cocked her head, scrunched her eyebrows, and shifted her eyes from Michael to Henry, then back to Michael.
Michael said, “When we were last here, I asked Henry about his plan. He grabbed the jacket Robyn had left in the backseat of our rental car. He said, ‘We’re going to drop off a jacket to be dry cleaned.’”
Henry smiled and said, “It worked, didn’t it?” Michael looked at him with his head tilted and one corner of his mouth raised.
Henry shrugged a shoulder, then took on a serious tone. “Okay, let’s see if she’s open for business.”
While staying in the shadows of trees and using back alleys, they worked their way to the rear of Li Jing’s dry cleaner store. Henry drew his SIG 9mm while entering a dumpster-lined alley. Michael wondered how many broken bottles it had taken to cover the disintegrating blacktop with so much broken glass. Wind had scattered crumpled yellowing newspaper pages everywhere in the alleyway. Some were clinging to the fence that lined the alley. Businesses had crammed empty cardboard boxes into overflowing dumpsters, resulting in cardboard boxes strewn throughout the alley.
Michael kicked an empty box that lay in his path. Henry snapped his head toward Michael while placing an index finger to his lips.
Henry pointed to a doorway in the graffiti-covered wall. “That’s the back door to the dry cleaners. Wait here, ready and watching in case it opens. I’ll go check the front door.”
As she removed her backpack, Kassidy said, “Hold on,” and opened the center pocket. She pulled out a two-way radio and a Bluetooth earpiece/microphone. She turned it on and handed the earpiece to Henry. He put in the earpiece, and Kassidy slipped the radio into one of Henry’s backpack’s pockets.
She pulled out two more radios and earpieces from her backpack. “We use these to communicate during concerts. They’re voice activated and work great.”
She and Michael turned on their radios and positioned the earpieces.
“Check, check.”
“Check, check.”
“I’ve got you both; volume’s perfect,” Henry said while walking backwards and giving a thumbs up.
He turned right, crept down the sidewalk, then made another right turn at the corner. He peaked around the casing of the window closest to the corner. Other than light coming from an alarm panel, the room was dark. “No lights on.”
Kassidy said, “Copy.”
He picked up an empty beer can and banged on the window. Nothing. No lights came on, nor was there evidence of movement.
“No one here; I’m returning.”
“Copy.”
Henry turned and saw two young men approaching. “Hey, old man,” the smallest of the two said, “whacha doin’ sneakin’ round like that?” He did a jerky imitation of Henry’s stealth-walking.
The skinny, short punk appeared to have been trying to emulate David Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust persona.
His behemoth buddy looked like an obese, hairy, teenaged Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson.
Henry moved to turn left at the corner, but hairy-Dwayne blocked his way.
“Just keep walking, son. I don’t have time for this.”
After hearing the conversation in their earpieces, Michael and Kassidy hurried to the corner of the building and stopped.
Michael peered around the corner and saw Henry’s predicament. He put his index finger to his lips as he drew a tactical baton from his backpack. He flicked it to full length. Kassidy copied him. As they moved toward Henry, Michael recalled how the baton had saved his life more than once. He had insisted Kassidy buy two, one for her backpack, and a shorter version for her purse. Other than practicing, she had yet to use either.
“Old man,” the Ziggy-punk said, “who asked you into our neighborhood? We don’t allow tourists… unless you buy a permit.”
Henry glanced at the sidewalk while shaking his head, then looked up. “How much does a permit cost?”
Ziggy grabbed his chin, looked at the streetlight, looked back at Henry, and said, “How much ya got?”
“I doubt I have enough.”
The Ziggy punk looked up at hairy-Dwayne and said, “He’s refusing to buy a permit.”
Hairy nodded and drug his gaze toward Henry’s eyes.
Henry said, “Any time folks.”
The two punks heard hurried footfalls, and Michael yelling, “Copy.”
The punks spun toward the sound.
Michael stopped within two feet of hairy-Dwayne, who, next to Michael, had shrunk.
Kassidy stood in front of the Ziggy-punk—who was still a small punk. He said, “Oowee, I got me a pretty dolly to play with.”
“I think y’all need to move on before you get hurt. No harm, no foul.”
The Ziggy-punk swung his head toward Henry. “Shut up, old man. We’ll get to you in a minute.”
As the Ziggy-punk moved toward Kassidy, Henry turned and made a sidekick to the punk’s hamstring, causing his leg to fold. Kassidy made the same move to his chest. Ziggy hit the concrete hard.
Hairy-Dwayne stood dumbfounded. Michael said, “You sure you want this?”
While lifting his little punk buddy, he shook his head and hurried off. Ziggy’s feet bounced as hairy-Dwayne dragged them across cracked concrete and outcroppings of root-lifted concrete slabs.
Michael and Kassidy collapsed their batons and returned them to their backpack’s side pocket.
“That plan failed… now what?” Michael said with a smile.
Henry just shook his head. “The only move we have left is Li Jing’s house. I still have the photo of her driver’s license on my phone.”
“Let’s go,” Kassidy said.
A car approached and slowed as it pulled to the curb. The tinted rear window of a well-waxed black 70s Cadillac gave no hint to who was inside, until the window crept open, revealing Li Jing’s face.
Henry shouted, “Draw your weapons.”
They took a shooter’s stance while Li Jing sized them up. “Well, well, my targets are back in town. And you’ve brought a pretty one with you. I now have three targets.”
Henry kept his weapon aimed and said, “Li Jing, we came hoping to bring resolution, without violence, or anyone getting hurt.”
“I thought you were saving another hooker.” She received no response, other than three pistols still aimed at her face.
She laughed as she eyed Kassidy up and down. “But her clothes don’t fit the part. You have my home address—come over, maybe we can resolve this.”
Her face went from laughing to distorted by hate as her window glided up, and the limousine sped away from the curb.
The brick house was massive and protected by a surrounding tilt-up concrete wall. An Iron gate controlled the entrance.
Michael stepped out of the car, glanced at Henry and said, “Show the gate, Robyn’s jacket. Maybe it will work here like it did at the dry cleaners.”
Kassidy couldn’t help herself and put her hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh.
Henry suppressed a smile as he walked to the left column and stopped. After staring at Michael and Kassidy for a few seconds, he pushed the communication button.
A brittle voice answered, “Only come in if you’re still sincere about resolution.”
Henry studied Michael and Kassidy’s faces before turning toward the intercom speaker. “We’re committed to resolving this. By the way, I didn’t thank you for the German chocolate cake… although it didn’t hold up to being tossed across my yard.”
The lock clicked.
Their car snaked along a tree-lined driveway—the length of a football field. The massive house was intimidating enough, but Li Jing had raised her ante. A man with his arm in a sling walked toward them. He carried an automatic rifle cradled on his slung arm, and held a leash attached to a Silver Sable German Shepherd.
Michael looked at Henry. “It’s the goon I shot. So far, I’m not liking the plan; you should have gone with the jacket.”
“Yeah, I’m not liking this either. I think I’ve forced her past the intimidation phase. If he points the rifle at us, we won’t have a choice.” Henry and Michael heard Kassidy pull back the slide on her 9mm.
Henry looked at Michael and nodded. They both emulated Kassidy, then holstered their pistols. Kassidy held her pistol at her side. Henry turned his head and said, “Vigilance is not just our friend tonight; it’s our shield.”
He glanced at both and said, “Ready?”
Both Michael and Kassidy nodded.
“Let’s Go.”
They all stepped out of the car, hoping their open doors provided enough protection. Their eyes scanned the surrounding area in the fading light.
Michael and Henry drew their pistols. Henry looked at Michael and gave a side nod toward Kassidy, and said, “Michael... to Kassidy.”
They gathered with her at the left rear side of the car.
High pitched screeching came from a third-floor window. “Kill them… they are all trespassers.”
The goon released the dog, then reached for his automatic rifle.
Gunfire sounded from the third floor, hitting the cobblestone drive, which caused the dog to deviate from its course.
Henry spun toward the goon and fired. The arm-slung man’s eyes flew open wide. He looked where blood marked two chest wounds on his shirt. After touching one, he looked at Henry, then collapsed to the cobblestones.
“Kassidy, watch our backs. There’s at least one more thug here somewhere.”
“Got it,” she said as she swung around and crouched; pistol ready to fire.
“Michael—” a bullet from the third floor struck the car’s rear quarter panel. Henry ducked and Michael returned fire to the window. Henry called out again. “Michael, keep her busy. I’m going for the front door.”
Michael looked over, nodded, and fired two shots at the window.
A columned portico surrounded the inset front door.
Henry made a dash across the cobblestone drive.
Halfway to the portico, a bullet struck near his feet.
He pushed himself with everything he had.
Another bullet crashed into one of the plastered portico columns.
Henry dived. He landed on the tiled porch and slid until he collided against the front door.
He turned to look back. No shooter.
He rolled to the east wall and peeked around the corner. Nothing.
His roll to the west wall drew a bullet, shattering the plaster above his head.
Rolling to his stomach, he saw Kassidy take aim and fire; someone yelled.
Henry looked toward where she had aimed. A man was tumbling in a tree. One leg struck a heavy branch, mid-thigh. He screamed as he spun from the branch; the angle of the broken bone caused leg to have what looked like two knees. His flailing arms didn't help slow him. He hit head first. His neck crumpled.
“Michael, cover Kassidy as she runs to me.”
“Copy.”
Kassidy acknowledged and looked at Michael, who nodded and took aim at the window.
She ran while Michael fired two shots.
When Kassidy had made it across, he fired again, ran, and took a second shot while running. At the porch, he slid on his knees to join Henry and Kassidy. He looked at Henry and opened his mouth to speak, but a guttural, “grrrr” sounded. The German Shepherd was approaching, ears back, body lowered, ready to spring.
Henry took aim. “I don’t want to put this animal down.”
Kassidy reached her arm past Henry and fired.
Pepper spray hit the Shepherd square in its face. It let out a yelp and rolled on the cobblestones, trying to knock off whatever was attacking its face. Unsuccessful, the dog sprang to its feet and ran, hitting the side of Henry’s car. It bounced off and bolted, this time making it past the tree line.
Henry looked at Kassidy and smiled. “I’ve told you this before, Michael, but I like this woman. The dog will survive, but he’s out of commission for now.”
Kassidy and Michael both smiled.
“Okay, I made a tactical error, thinking I could reason with Li Jing.”
Michael said, “Lesson learned, don’t try reasoning with a sex trafficker who has no conscience.”
“I agree, but I’d hoped to convince her that killing me would bring down the wrath of the Virginia State Police. I’ve told friends there, if I turn up missing or dead, she’s their primary suspect. Plus, they have the recording I made of her confession.”
“Her hate won’t allow listening to you,” Michael said. “What now?”
“I have to try. This is an extraordinary situation. Doesn’t matter if it’s now or later, one of us is going to die. She’s leaving me no choice—”
A low, gravelly voice came through a speaker near the door. “I’ve heard every word you’ve said. You didn’t consider we will all die here tonight.” Li Jing said and cackled a wicked laugh.
Without hesitation, Henry grabbed Kassidy’s hand, stood, and ran. Michael got the message and dashed off, following them. As they rounded the rear of Henry’s car, a massive explosion erupted on the third floor.
The car doors were still open. They were all blown forward and tumbled to the ground. Michael and Kassidy stood and dove through the rear driver’s side door into the back seat. Henry followed suit by diving into the front seat.
Debris began raining on and around Henry’s car.
A splintered wooden window frame hit and bounced off the hood.
A smoldering overstuffed chair, with one arm missing, slammed onto the cobblestone drive ten feet ahead of the car.
Shards of glass and pulverized brick and mortar rained on the car, sounding like marble-sized hail hammering the car’s sheet metal.
Henry had dragged himself across the front until he could reach out and pull the passenger door closed. He slid back and sat up in the driver’s seat. As he closed his door, he called out, “close your door.”
Michael reached out with his leg, hooked the toe of his shoe around the edge of the door and jerked hard by bending his knee. The engine fired as the rear door slammed.
Henry jammed the gearshift lever into drive and mashed the accelerator to the floor.
The car jolted as it smashed into the smoldering chair, demolishing what the explosion hadn’t.
He threw the car into a slide around the circular driveway.
Another explosion erupted on the first and second floors.
“Hold on,” Henry yelled, “if the explosions destroyed the gate’s power supply, I’ll be ramming the gate.”
He straightened his wheels and slowed. The front tires broke the sensor’s beam; the gate began clamoring open.
Henry looked in the rearview mirror and couldn’t see Michael or Kassidy, but saw the dust and debris trailing behind his car. “Do I need to get you two a room?”
Michael called out as he and Kassidy sat up. “No, but I like the way you think.”
Henry smiled. “We’re not sticking around. We can't be here when the police arrive.”
“You’re not concerned about security camera footage?” Michael said.
“No, everything we saw and heard implied Li Jing’s office and base of operations was in the third-floor room, including security equipment. An explosion that violent incinerated everything in her office. If not, the second explosion destroyed what remained.”
After cruising in silence for ten minutes, Michael said, “What’s next?”
“I see a car wash sign in the distance,” Henry said. “I’m going to stop.”
“How will you explain the rental car damage?”
“Baltimore’s a tough city,” Henry winked and said. “I took out their loss damage waiver. I’m golden.”
Michael chuckled, Kassidy didn’t. She hadn’t contributed to the conversation—not a word. Michael hugged her and whispered, “You did what you had to do.”
She looked at him with tears welling in her eyes. She blinked and breached the well. Tears flowed as she leaned forward. Her elbows went to her knees and her hands caught her face.
“I killed a man… without hesitation.”
She sat back and looked at Michael. “What am I becoming… taking a person’s life with no thought beforehand?”
Michael sat studying her face, at a loss for words.
“Kassidy,” Henry said, “we had no intention of harming her or her men. I’d hoped to reason with her; to help her see the can-of-worms she’d open if she killed me or Michael. She interrupted us after hearing every word I’d said.
“What she heard caused her to realize the futility of her plans, but it didn’t bring the results I’d hoped for. Her hatred controlled her. She pushed the button. I can’t imagine the hate that caused her to value revenge more than her life.
“The man you shot had a clean line of sight to me. He missed his first shot… he would not have missed his next one. Your bullet didn't kill that man. But it caused him to fall. The fall killed him, Kassidy.
“You saved not only my life, but yours and Michael’s too. I’ve been where you are. You’ll never get over it, but it will become a scar rather than a wound. I thank you… as will my family, and I know Leanna, Levi, and the rest of your clients will too.”
Michael turned and hugged her. “As do I—as will your father.”
It seemed fitting that the carwash water was bathing the outside of Henry’s vehicle as his words flowed over Kassidy.
Exiting the carwash, Henry said, “Let’s stop, have a cup of coffee, and decompress.”
Other than ordering, they were silent for 15 minutes while drinking coffee. Michael and Henry sat looking out the window, watching the sun set over distant, giant maple trees. Kassidy stared into her coffee cup, taking an occasional sip, until she broke the silence.
“Henry, I’ve been mulling over what you said in the car wash. I understand, and I’m glad muscle memory took over without me even considering the results.
“Our shooting coach drilled us with that same scenario more times than I could guess. And I reacted as taught… but didn’t realize—“ She couldn’t finish the sentence. Looking back into her coffee cup, a darkness—darker than her coffee—had settled over her. Minutes passed before she looked up. But she could not speak.
Michael said, “Again, Kassidy, you saved lives; there’s nothing we can do to change the fact that someone died. I tried… in the future.”
Kassidy looked at him, wrapped her hands around her coffee cup, and stared at Michael with eyes that communicated nothing.
“I told you about the two hunters shot to death in the woods.”
“Yes.”
“I used the book to go back in time; I tried to save them—we can’t.”
“I get that, Michael… please bear with me. With your support and prayers, and counseling by my therapist—I’ll get past this. But I don’t think I can go with you and Henry again.”
Michael and Henry could only nod in understanding. After a few more sips of coffee, Michael looked at Henry. “It’s time to take us home, my friend”
Henry placed money on the table, stood, and led the way.
They stepped out into a corner of the café‘s parking lot.
Henry pulled out the photo he had taken before leaving Michael and Kassidy’s house. He opened the book to page five.
After the warm wind carried them back to Michael and Kassidy’s house, a tattered piece of paper trapped beneath Michael’s shoe blew away.
* * *
Three weeks later.
“Kassidy, are you sure you’re up for this?” Michael said as they walked the three blocks from their parking space to Ella’s café.
She encircled Michael’s right arm with both arms and leaned her head against his shoulder. “Yes. Your grandmother is good for me. I love her. She’s one of the most up people I know.”
“She’s been that way for 92 years, Kassidy. At least… during the 43 years I’ve been alive.”
“Michael, please… you can stop worrying. I feel God’s peace surrounding me. And my therapist agreed with Henry. It will take time, but I sense my joy returning. I’m glad they invited us to lunch. I look forward to a dose of Louise.”
Michael reached over, placed his hand on the side of Kassidy’s face. “I love you, Kassidy. And I agree with you about Grandma, but I’ve come close to overdosing on her ‘upness’ many times.”
Kassidy laughed and squeezed his arm.
Drawing close to the café, Michael said, “Ella’s is grandma’s favorite restaurant. It’s the first place I remember having a meal prepared by someone other than my mother or my grandmother.”
“It’s beautiful,” Kassidy said, as she took in the white exterior, with green flower boxes beneath matching window-shutters and the green awning over the front entrance. Yellow and red daffodils stood proud between the restaurant’s foundation and the sidewalk. The restaurant’s owner had stuffed the window flower boxes with pansies of countless color variations.
Michael stopped before opening the door. He pointed to an inch-wide hole in the restaurant’s wood siding near the left side of the door. The owner had patched it with a wood filler. As he rubbed his finger over the repair work, he said, “This is where the police dug out the bullet that passed through Grandma’s shoulder.”
Kassidy released Michael’s arm, made a quarter turn, and looked at him while tilting her head. Crushing her eyebrows together, she said, “What?”
Michael had turned his head toward the entry door’s windows. “That’s a story for later. She’s seen us.”
Kassidy swung her head and looked. Michael’s grandmother was waving both arms above her head, while her husband, Marvin, smiled. Entering, Kassidy laughed and said, “I love that woman.”
As they approached the table, Michael’s grandmother stood and moved into their path with her arms open wide. “It’s so good to see you both,” she said as she hugged Kassidy, then Michael. Michael smiled while sitting, and said, “I see where I fall in the order of greeting hugs.”
“Oh, Michael, you always have to make it about you,” Grandma said, while smiling and shaking her head.
“Not always Grandma, occasionally I allow Kassidy to step out of my shadow.”
Kassidy lowered her forehead onto her fingertips and said, “Louise…” she lifted her face.
“Yes, dear.”
“You took Michael in when he was 12 years old and raised him… right?”
“Yes.”
“I can’t imagine the hours of counseling you’ve invested in recovery.”
“You’re assuming I’ve recovered.”
“So that’s my future?”
“I’m afraid so, my dear.”
Kassidy looked at Michael, shook her head, and said, “Not worth it.” She stood, turned, and walked four paces away from the table. She started laughing and swung back to the table and sat.
After the laughter died, Michael said, “Truth is, I’m honored to walk in the shadow of either of you.”
They began laughing again, but stopped when they saw Michael was dead serious.
“Kassidy, you’re the second strongest woman I know… you’re catching up with number one. But,” he looked at his grandmother, “grandma, you have always amazed me with your strength, courage, and resilience. Your daughter would be so proud of you, and you’ll always be number one.”
Kassidy looked at Michael, studying his eyes for a few seconds. “And that’s one reason I love you.” She put her head on his shoulder and said, “Louise, thank you. He’s a testament to who you are and how you raised him.”
Marvin had his arm around Louise’s shoulder and hugged her close while smiling. She was using her table napkin to dab her eyes. She straightened and said, “Thank you both. Now… we better order before I become dehydrated.” She took a drink of water and smiled.
While waiting for their food to arrive, they caught up with each other’s lives.
After they ate, Grandma said, “Marvin and I want to discuss something with you.”
Michael made a quick glance at Kassidy, then back to his grandmother and Marvin.
“We’ve been talking. My house has sat vacant for almost a year. I haven’t been able to bring myself to rent it out, but Marvin has convinced me to sell it, not that we need the money. We just don’t need the responsibilities associated with maintaining the house and property.
Michael said, “I agree with Marvin, Grandma.”
“So do I,” she said, “but there’s a catch.”
Michael leaned his head, while making a slight twist of his neck. “What’s the catch?”
Louise looked at Marvin, who nodded. Turning back, she said, “We want you and Kassidy to have the house.”
Kassidy glanced at Michael, then said, “Louise… Marvin, we appreciate your offer and generosity. But wouldn’t it be better for you to sell it and put the money into your savings? We will help you sell it.”
Louise looked at Kassidy. “Sweetheart, we don’t need savings. Marvin did well in his practice as an ophthalmologist, and he invested well. We’re in our nineties. For what purpose would we want to accumulate more money?”
“I get it, Grandma, but Kassidy and I are doing well in our new artist management business, and we received sizable buyouts from our law firms.”
Louise moved to respond, but Michael interrupted. “Grandma… Marvin…” he looked at Kassidy, then back to Louise and Marvin. “I just had a thought. I know how much you both admire our veterans; I have an idea—I’m thinking out loud, so bear with me. Two months from now, Leanna and Levi are doing one of their quarterly super-concerts here in Portland. It will sell out.
“How about this? Let’s find a Portland veteran who needs the house. One who has a young family and—I don’t know, we’ll name the criteria later—but you donate it to the veteran and their family. What do you think?”
His grandmother’s eyes glistened. “Michael, I love that idea.”
Marvin squeezed her shoulder again and said, “We both love the idea.”
“Kassidy,” Michael said as he turned toward her.
Before he could ask, she said, “Yes, that’s a wonderful idea.”
“Okay,” Michael said while smiling, “another problem I’ve solved.”
Louise slapped her hands to the side of her face. “Michael, where did I go wrong? I am so sorry, Kassidy.”
“I’m working on it, Louise—and I will continue, but my gut tells me it will be lifetime employment.”
After the server cleared their table, they sat, having coffee. Louise said, “Would you do us a favor? We’d appreciate having all of our personal items boxed up and removed—photographs, personal records, and such? We’ll leave the furniture for the new owners.”
Kassidy said, “We’ll take care of that for you, Louise. What do we do with the boxes?”
“You can bring them to our house. We’ll go through them and decide what to toss and what we want you to have.”
“Sounds like we have a plan. I’m…” Michael paused and looked at Kassidy, “we’re excited, and we want you and Marvin to be at the concert to witness the event.”
Marvin said, “It will be an honor.”
Michael held the front door as Kassidy, Bill and Linda Langdon, and Linda's son Jacob Curt walked past, armed with collapsed storage boxes.
Standing in the living room of Grandma’s house assembling storage boxes, Kassidy said, “Okay, where do we start?”
“Grandma warned the basement will be hardest,” Michael said. “Let’s hit it first.”
“I’ll meet you in the basement.” Kassidy held up her SLR digital camera and rushed to the basement door. She opened it, found the light switch, and disappeared down the stairs.
Michael looked at Linda, Bill, and Jacob while shrugging his shoulders, thrusting out his hands, and shaking his head. They finished assembling the storage boxes and stacked them on the living room floor.
Michael picked up a stack of boxes and headed downstairs. As his foot landed on the first stair tread, he said, “I remember little about our basement, other than that my grandfather spent most of his days down there. As a kid, I thought that's where his job was. He’d go down after breakfast and not come back until dinner.”
A six-foot by four-foot island stood in the center of the twenty-foot by thirty-foot room. The island’s butcher block top was littered with papers and tools.
Michael’s grandfather’s tools had long ago left various sized dents and scratches on the island’s surface.
Knives and pencils had left their indelible marks, and drill bits had pockmarked the wooden surface. Tiny metallic silver splatters had stuck here and there like dew on leaves.
An old rolltop desk sat against the wall to their left; the top right-hand drawer was open. Papers, pencils, and pens littered the desktop. A Portland Trailblazer logo'd coffee cup sat on the desktop. It was full of pencils and pens, jammed in, waiting for the coach to send them in.
On the left was a DAK Industries answering machine with an AT&T Slimline phone attached.
Michael’s grandfather had crammed small reference books into the desk’s cubby holes, where envelopes vied for space like weeds pushing through cracks in concrete.
Large reference books lined the top shelf, held in place by a fire extinguisher on one end; a quart canning jar, half-full of loose coins propped up the other end.
A bank of three four-drawer filing cabinets sat next to the rolltop desk. Someone had left the second-from-the-top drawers—in both outside cabinets—open, like two outstretched arms.
A world globe sat on the center cabinet. The cabinets looked like a robot motioning “really!”
Opposite the stairwell, a workbench—cobbled together with repurposed 2x4s—leaned against the concrete wall for support.
Michael approached Kassidy, who was busy snapping photos. “What are you doing?”
“Your grandmother called me yesterday and explained what we would find here.”
“So, she had to explain the mess?”
“You might say that, yes. She told me about her and Marvin visiting the Norman Rockwell Museum in Stockbridge, Maine. They found it interesting that Rockwell’s family had recreated his studio exactly as they had found it the day he died.
"Your grandmother realized that what we're seeing here is even more correct because your grandfather's workshop was not relocated. And she has moved nothing since the day your grandfather died. She hoped it would help you gain insight into who he was. So, I wanted to capture it before we began packing. I’ve taken over a hundred photographs.
"You guys can begin sorting and packing,” she sliced her hand downward, “from here,” then pointed to the corner of the west wall, “to there.”
Michael gave her a hug, pushed her to arm’s length. Then stared into those eyes; eyes that still captivated him. He held her eyes while smiling and shaking his head in wonderment. “I love you.”
“I know,” she said with a smile. “That’s why I’m doing this for you.”
She finished photographing the cobbled together workbench from several angles, then turned and photographed metal rods, sheets of metal, plywood, and 2x4s stacked against the remaining length of the concrete wall.
Michael wondered what his grandfather had planned for the wood he had mingled with metal.
Coils of various gauges of wires hung from repurposed rebar, which was cut into foot long pieces, then jammed into holes someone had drilled into the wall studs.
To the right of the stairwell was a bathroom. Linda said, “I’ll pass on checking that room.” They all supported her choice.
Kassidy said, “Maybe we should start at the top floor.”
They all nodded while laughing, then divided into teams of two. Jacob acted as a support for whoever needed a hand.
Bill and Michael moved the metal and lumber to see if it concealed anything savable. It didn't.
Kassidy and Linda began exploring the rolltop desk. Jacob was busy texting until he noticed Michael standing in front of him. He looked up.
“We agreed to keep this a text free zone… did we not?”
Jacob looked around the room and then said, “But Leanna’s texting me.”
Michael smiled and said, “Is she asking you for a date?”
Jacob went red, looked down, and said, “No, she was wondering what we’re doing today.”
“And what are we doing?”
“Working.”
Michael looked around and saw everyone staring at him.
“Has anyone seen Jacob’s work?”
“You mean,” Kassidy said, “the box Linda just carried over to the bottom of the stairs?”
Bill said, “No, Michael meant the lumber and steel he and I have been moving.”
“Wrong,” Linda said, “he was referring to the books Kassidy’s packing into the box on the floor.”
Jacob hung his head. “I can’t get a break.”
They all rushed Jacob and began pummeling him with soft punches and laughter.
Jacob said, “Okay, okay, I’ll text Leanna and tell the international superstar—your biggest client—she’s not important enough to interrupt us cleaning out an old basement.” Another barrage of punches was delivered to Jacob.
Michael grabbed Jacob, hugged him, laughed, and said, “Tell her to come and bring pizza.”
Jacob didn’t hesitate.
An hour later, they heard Leanna’s voice from the top of the stairwell. “A little help, please?”
Jacob rocketed up the stairs.
Linda said, “What’s Leanna got that we don’t?”
“How about,” Kassidy said, “youth, beauty, an incredible voice, and Jacob’s hope.”
“And pizza.” Bill said.
Michael nodded. “That clinched the deal.”
Leanna came down first. Jacob was close behind, carrying three pizza boxes. Leanna was carrying a grocery bag and a twelve pack of root beer.
Jacob set the pizzas on top of the littered island.
Leanna handed Jacob the 12 pack and said, “Is the fridge working?” as she held out the grocery bag.
Michael said, “What’s in the bag?”
Leanna glanced around the room while shaking her head and scrunching her eyebrows. “The chocolate fudge ice cream Jacob said you guys wanted.”
Michael, Kassidy, Linda, and Bill began pummeling Jacob again.
Leanna caught on, dropped the ice cream, and joined the pummeling.
After they finished having fun at Jacob’s expense, Michael grabbed the grocery bag, turned, and said while running up the stairs, “I’ll take care of this.”
In less than a minute, they heard silverware jangling and bowls clinking. Three or four minutes later, Michael came down the stairs carrying a serving tray with six bowls filled with chocolate fudge ice cream.
They chanted, “Michael, Michael…”
Jacob looked around with his outstretched arms apart, with his fingers pointed back at him. “Hey… it was my idea.”
Leanna pulled out a receipt from the front pocket of her jeans and handed it to Jacob. “I was wondering who gets the bill?”
Jacob lowered his forehead to his fingertips and said, “I can’t win.”
After they polished off the ice cream and pizza, Leanna said, “Tell me what you need me to do. I’m here for as long as you need me.”
Michael said, “Bill was just getting ready to tackle the file cabinets. Why don’t you help him, and I’ll take Jacob? He needs close supervision.”
Jacob was leaning on the bathroom door. He turned, butted his head against the door three times, while saying, “No, not Michael.” A headbutt accompanied each word.
They were readying to call it a day when they heard Bill say, “What’s that?"
He looked toward Leanna and motioned to her, while saying, "Leanna, help me pull this file cabinet away from the wall.”
Using a rocking and tilting motion, they drug the cabinet away from the wall. Michael had walked over while Bill was stretching to reach behind the cabinet.
“What’d you find, Bill?”
“Looks like rolled up drafting papers,” he said as he straightened up while pulling out the 24-inch-long roll.
Jacob helped Michael clear a space on the island. Bill laid the roll of yellowed paper on the island’s surface. As he carefully unrolled it, the paper's corners began curling. Jacob grabbed four books from the desk to place on the corners of the drafting paper.
Everyone watched with curiosity as the unrolling revealed detailed technical drawings. Penciled side notes covered the edges of the paper. At the bottom right-hand corner was a box that contained a name, spelled in all capital letters. Beneath it was Michael’s grandfather’s printed name and signature. A Notary Public’s stamp impression and signature was next to Michael's grandfather's signature.
Michael read the name aloud. “PAIN POINT ANALYZER.”
Bill studied the drawings while the others examined and discussed his grandfather’s name.
Kassidy turned her head toward Michael. Her eyebrows collapsed as she said, “You’ve never mentioned they named you after your grandfather?”
Bill interrupted. “Michael, do you remember these drawings or where your grandfather got them?”
“No, and it doesn’t appear he got them anywhere. A notary public agent stamped and signed under his name.”
Bill hadn’t paid attention to their discussion, but looked over and read out loud, “‘Michael James Mays, BSEE.’ Didn’t you tell me your grandfather was an attorney?”
“Yes, he practiced law his entire life.”
“Did you ever hear it mentioned that he was an electrical engineer?”
Michael studied Bill’s face for a few seconds, then returned his attention to the drawing. After ten seconds, he straightened up, pulled out his phone, and jabbed the screen.
As it began dialing, he switched to speaker mode, then laid it on the butcher block surface.
Louise’s voice exploded from the phone’s speaker. “Michael.”
“Hey, Grandma.”
“What’s going on?”
“We’re here working on cleaning out your house and have a question.”
She chuckled. “Yes. I’ll hire someone to come in and do the job.”
Michael laughed and said, “No, we’re doing great. It’s moving along fine. My question is, Grandpa was an attorney… right?”
“Yes. He practiced for thirty years.”
“We found a technical drawing of something we believe Grandpa designed.
“He wrote his name, then added BSEE, which indicates he had a degree in electronic engineering?”
“Yes. That man was always learning. He earned that degree before we married. He entered college at sixteen years old and graduated at nineteen.”
Michael was dumbstruck. He could only look around with his mouth ajar.
Kassidy said, “Louise, when did he begin law school?”
“If I recall correctly, he had applied before completing the electronic engineering degree program. The Northwestern College of Law accepted his application, and he began in the fall of the same year.”
“So,” Kassidy said, “if I’m doing the math correctly, he held both a degree in electronic engineering and a law degree at twenty-two or twenty-three years old.”
“That sounds right. But it’s been seventy years, so I’m not clear about that. I have a better recollection of his medical degree—“
Michael interrupted. “What? When did he have time to earn a medical degree?”
“If you’d let me finish, you’d have the answer by now.”
Kassidy turned away, restraining a laugh.
Michael failed in his attempt to give Kassidy a dirty look. “Go ahead, Grandma. I’m sorry, but this information is overwhelming.”
“Your grandfather was only fifty-two years old when he retired from his law practice. He jumped right into medical school. By his fifty-eighth birthday, he was a board-certified neurologist. The parallel between electrical circuits and the human nervous system had fascinated him.”
“That makes sense,” Bill muttered as he returned his attention to the drawings.
“Well, Grandma… thank you. I’m speechless.”
Running his fingers through his hair, he took a deep breath and let out a long sigh.
“Grandma… it appears he named the device in the drawing, ‘Pain Point Analyzer.’ Does that sound familiar to you?”
“Yes, but after he died unexpectedly, I lost touch with the young man who worked with him; I heard no more about it.”
Linda said, “Unexpectedly, Louise?”
“Yes. It was devastating. I was upstairs. The lights flickered, which I gave little thought to. An hour later I went to see if they needed anything—you know, water, a snack, coffee. As I stepped from the stairs onto the basement floor, I expected to see what I always saw. Mike—that’s what I called Michael’s grandfather—and Randy should have been hunched over the work island. But there was no one there. Randy was gone… which surprised me. He had left without saying goodbye.” She paused, then said, “He always said goodbye.”
“Was Randy the ‘young man’ you mentioned earlier?” Kassidy said.
“Yes. I can’t remember how or where they met, but they collaborated on an idea Mike had worked on for well over a year prior to them meeting.
“I called out and looked around the room. There was a foot sticking out from behind the opposite side of the island. I rushed over… it was Mike. He had no pulse. I ran to his desk and dialed 9-1-1.”
Michael heard her breath catch. “Grandma, why don’t we pick this up again later when Kassidy and I can sit with you and Marvin and discuss this further?”
“I would appreciate that, Michael.”
Everyone was silent until Michael said, “Grandma, we better get back to work, but thank you for telling us about Grandpa.”
“Michael, I remember taking quite a few photos of him and Randy working together. They posed for several of them in front of the island. If I recall correctly, they’re in one of the file cabinets.”
“Thanks, Grandma. We’ll check them out. Love you and I’ll talk to you later.”
Everyone else called out, “We love you too, Grandma.”
“Oh, you guys… I love all of you,” she giggled as she ended the call.
Michael picked up his phone and said, “Well, that gives us a lot to think about.” He shoved his phone into his rear pants pocket.
Bill had remained silent as he studied the drawings. He looked up at Michael and said, “Your grandfather was a genius.”
Kassidy looked down while shaking her head. “Wait for it.”
“Well,” Michael said while smiling, “that is a dominate trait in the Mays DNA.”
Everyone but Bill stormed Michael and began pummeling him; Jacob was the most vigorous and enthusiastic.
When they finished teasing Michael, Bill said, “I was serious. If these are your grandfather’s drawings—if he invented this device—your family is wealthy beyond our imaginations.”
“I don’t understand,” Michael said as he put his arm around Kassidy and stared at Bill.
Bill looked at Linda. “Linda, are you acquainted with ‘PPD,’ the Pain Point Determiner?”
“Of course,” she said as she leaned her head.
Bill smiled and said, “I know you are. I only asked to show that people in the medical field are well aware of PPD’s.” Bill pushed aside the books holding the corners. He lifted the drawing. “Michael, physicians worldwide use this device to aid them in their diagnoses.” He tapped on the drawing. “It appears someone stole your grandfather’s invention.”
