Cleanse (The Ivory Solution, Vol 2)

By Etienne

An arrest in Florida leads to the exposure of another plot by supremacists, and the FBI invites award-winning investigative reporter Clint Buchalla to interview as many suspects as are willing to talk. It’s not his first time working on a controversial article for his newspaper, the Washington Ledger.

At their home together, Clint and his lover, Lucien Cormier, meet their new neighbors: a divorced woman and her two sons. One of the sons seems terribly troubled, and the woman’s situation prompts Clint to search public records for information. Ultimately, he finds a trail that leads him to another pedophile priest? and thus a series of articles exposing him and the church’s complicity in covering up his crimes.

Meanwhile, Lucien hears from the lawyer who serves as trustee of his education fund and learns that because he was thrifty enough with his education funds to leave him money to spare, he will come into additional money on his twenty-fifth birthday... a windfall that could allow him to realize his dream of opening a Cajun restaurant

• Language: English
• Publisher: Etienne
• Release date: Sep 1, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370804245

Etienne

Etienne lives in central Florida, very near the hamlet in which he grew up. He always wanted to write but didn't find his muse until a few years ago, when he started posting stories online. These days he spends most of his time battling with her, as she is a capricious bitch who, when she isn't hiding from him, often rides him mercilessly, digging her spurs into his sides and forcing the flow of words from a trickle to a flood.

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Copyright © 2013, 2016, 2020 by Etienne

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Wherever possible, the syntax and spelling in this book follows guidelines set forth in The Chicago Manual of Style, 14th Edition, and in the Merriam-Webster online dictionary.

Cover Art © 2016, 2020 by Gerald Lopez

Acknowledgments

To Jim Kennedy, my long-suffering editor, who does his best to keep me on the straight and narrow comma path.

To my partner of twenty plus years, for his support and encouragement.

To the several fans who made many helpful suggestions. You know who you are, and have my thanks

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Epilogue

About the author

Contact the author

Other books by Etienne

Cleanse

(The Ivory Solution, Vol. 2)

Revised edition

Etienne

Chapter 1

Selma, NC

Friday afternoon—late

HERE WE ARE, BACK where it all began, Clint Buchalla said as he exited I-95 and stopped the car at the end of the off-ramp to wait for a traffic light to change.

Where exactly are we, cher? I think I must have dozed off for a bit, Lucien Cormier, his partner, said.

We’re in Selma, North Carolina, garden spot of the universe, Paul Richardson said from the backseat.

Sarcasm noted, Paul’s partner, Sean Sanderson, said. Actually, it was two in the morning the last time we were here, so we didn’t see much of anything, and we certainly didn’t see any gardens.

Yeah, it was our Christmas break at The Citadel, Paul said. We boarded the Silver Meteor that night in Charleston, and because it was ten thirty or thereabouts, and we’d been up since dawn, we went to sleep fairly quickly. Sean woke me up because he had to climb over me to go to the head. I decided to join him, and while we were there, two men wearing ski masks forced their way into the restroom and pointed guns at us. Eventually one of them pulled the emergency brake, and when the train came to a stop, they took us from it at gunpoint.

There isn’t much more to tell, Sean said. There was a van with two more masked men waiting. They forced us into the van, I felt a pinprick, and was out of it totally.

I wonder how they knew when to pull the cord? Lucien said.

The train began to slow down, and one of them said something like ‘that’s our cue’, or words to that effect, Paul said.

We learned later that the bad guys had placed flares on the tracks, and that’s why the train slowed down in the first place, Sean said.

Yeah, it was an unscheduled stop, Paul said. Another Amtrak train stops in Smithfield, which is a couple of miles down the road, but not our train.

When we came to, we were locked up in that cold little house in the mountains, wearing only boxers and T-shirts, Sean said.

And we’re going to see that house tomorrow, Clint said. Meanwhile, how does that Hampton Inn look to you guys?

As long as it has a bed with you in it, cher, I don’t care, Lucien said.

We’re not particular, Paul said, and most Hampton Inns have wired Internet instead of Wi-Fi, so that’s a plus.

When they checked in at the motel, Clint and Sean had a brief pissing contest over who was going to pay. Finally Clint said, This is a research trip, guys. I’m gathering background material for the book I’m writing about your experiences. The cost of this trip is a legitimate business expense for me.

Yeah, but you’re not rich, are you? Sean said.

Hardly that, but I got a huge advance for my last book, and most of it is still in the bank.

Now that you mention it, Paul said, we all got advances for the book you’re working on now.

Nevertheless— Clint said.

Okay, I give up, Sean said.

Paperwork complete and keys issued, Clint addressed the clerk behind the registration desk. Where’s a good place to eat around here, Ma’am?

Do y’all like barbecue? she said.

Guys? Clint said.

Everyone said yes, and the clerk said, Smithfield Barbecue is just down the road a piece. They serve Eastern North Carolina barbecue.

What’s that? Clint said.

It’s a kind of barbecue that’s unique to this part of the country, she said. It’s finely chopped and the sauce has a slightly vinegary flavor.

Sounds good to me, Clint said. He listened very carefully to her directions, making notes in the little notebook that he, like all good reporters, always had at hand.

Later, after they’d been to their adjoining rooms and freshened up, the four men headed out, following the clerk’s instructions. They found that her idea of ‘down the road a piece’ was a short journey west on a secondary road to US-301, then south on US-301 through an area of strip shopping centers and other businesses.

It looks like Smithfield begins where Selma ends, Clint said as they passed a sign.

Finally, Lucien said, Yeah, and there it is, cher, on the left.

Thanks, Cien, I see it, Clint said.

In the restaurant, they sat at a table next to a wall and placed their orders. Lucien had been carefully inspecting the decor of the room, and when the waitress brought their food, he said, Thank you, as his plate was set in front of him. Then he added, What’s with all the movie stuff on the walls featuring Ava Gardner?

Smithfield was her hometown, and she’s buried here, the waitress said. We even have an Ava Gardner museum. It’s just down the road on Highway 70, if y’all are interested.

Thanks for the information, but we have to get an early start in the morning, Lucien said. Maybe next time we come through here we’ll have more time.

Y’all enjoy your food now, she said, and left the table.

Clint dug into his barbecue, savored his first bite, and said, Damn, this is good stuff.

The others agreed and Lucien added, And these hush puppies are the best I’ve ever tasted.

That’s high praise coming from a renowned Cajun chef like yourself, Cien, Clint said.

Cher! I’m anything but renowned.

You are among the people in greater DC who’ve eaten your cooking, Clint said. And there’s absolutely no doubt in my mind that when you finally open a Cajun café in the area, your fame will spread. You might even become more well-known than Justin Wilson.

Maybe, but that’s years away. I have to earn and save a ton of money before I can open a restaurant.

When they’d finished eating, Paul said, Anyone gonna have dessert?

That pecan pie sounds pretty good, so I’m game, Clint said.

They ordered and ate their desserts, then headed back to the motel. A few minutes after they left the barbecue restaurant, Lucien said, I wonder if that Walmart up there on the left sells wine?

I don’t know, Clint said. I know North Carolina has state-run liquor stores, but we can stop and see, if that’s okay with everyone.

We bought wine at a Bi-Lo grocery store in Asheville when we were there with George and Mike that time, so it’s worth a shot, Paul said.

Bi-Lo’s a big supermarket chain, isn’t it? Clint said.

Yes.

That being the case, Lucien and I will just pick up a bottle for tonight at Wally World, Clint said. No need buying more only to have it get too hot in the car tomorrow.

In the Walmart, each couple found a satisfactory bottle of wine and some munchies to get them through the evening, and were soon back in their respective rooms.

Jacksonville, FL

Friday evening

TYRONE GIBBS WAS on a mission as he entered the Florida Theater in downtown Jacksonville. He was a veteran of many such missions. In fact, this would be mission number 190, and the joint bank account his grandmother had established in their names a few years before she’d passed would grow by another ten thousand dollars after the mission had been successfully completed—he got paid ten thousand dollars every time he’d completed ten missions. For some reason, her welfare money was still landing in the account every month nearly two years after her death, but he was afraid to spend it for the same reason he didn’t spend the money he was being paid to accomplish his missions. He went online every once in a while and looked at his bank balance, wishing he could spend some of that money, but he didn’t dare—at least not yet. His handler had warned him repeatedly about conspicuously flaunting his newfound wealth. Over and over again the guy had drilled into Tyrone’s head, Just wait until your bank balance hits one million, then you can take that money and disappear.

He and two of his bros had followed a mixed-race couple into the theater, and he looked around the lobby before entering the auditorium. The grand old 1920s movie palace had been restored and turned into a performing arts venue, and Tyrone and his bros were there to attend a performance by a popular black singer. All the tickets for this particular performance were general admission, so there were no reserved seats, and they were able to find seats in the row immediately behind the targeted couple. He’d told his buddies it was just a game to see what they could get away with, and on his signal they’d all sneeze noisily and sometimes messily onto the couple in front of them—they’d practiced forcing themselves to sneeze using pepper. His stupid friends still hadn’t caught on to the fact that while they were sneezing, he surreptitiously used the ring on his finger to spray a small amount of liquid onto the necks of both the black man in front of him and his white bitch.

For the thousandth time, he wondered why a good-looking young black stud would want to go out with a white slut—especially since all too often the white girls involved were a bit plump, if not downright fat, or otherwise unattractive.

Occasionally their combined sneezes provoked a somewhat belligerent response, but not this time. The brother in front of them looked in the direction of the annoyance, saw the trio of large black men who’d sneezed on him and his date, and immediately decided to turn around and mind his own business. All that remained for Tyrone to do was to watch for the obituaries in the newspaper and make a phone call when he spotted them. Even though he didn’t know the names of his victims, he looked for deaths of people in a certain age range and scanned the articles for terms such as ‘died suddenly’. The obituaries weren’t difficult to find, and they were the signal that he’d completed nine regular missions and one final and very special mission. After he notified his handler and gave him the information, a deposit would be wired to his bank account within twenty-four hours. He didn’t know who was paying him to have such fun, or, for that matter, why, and he didn’t care—all that mattered to Tyrone was his growing bank account.

Chapter 2

Maggie Valley, NC

Saturday

THE TWO COUPLES had gotten an early start that morning and by eight had made their way several miles on secondary roads until they reached I-40. After that it was a straight shot west on I-40 all the way to Waynesville and Maggie Valley. After a stop in Asheville for lunch, they’d left the interstate at the Waynesville exit, and Clint was being directed along US-19 in Maggie Valley by Sean, who’d taken Lucien’s place in the front passenger seat for the final leg of their trip.

Okay, there’s Ghost Town, Sean said. There’s a sign on the other side of their parking lot that says Cataloochee Ranch. When you get to the sign, turn right, and follow that road across that little bridge and up the mountain.

Ghost Town, Lucien said. What’s that?

Ghost Town in the Sky. It’s a tourist attraction featuring an Old West style town on top of a mountain. I think it was built in the sixties, then went bankrupt a couple of times in the last decade or two.

Looks like someone’s trying to get it going again, Clint said.

Yeah, Sean said.

They turned off the main highway onto Fie Top Road and Clint said, Damn, this is steep.

Yeah, it is for the first few hundred yards, Sean said. Then it’s up and down for about three miles until you get to the top of the mountain.

What’s up there? Lucien said.

Cataloochee Ranch, Paul said. It’s some kind of dude ranch that offers ski slopes in the winter.

They were making their way slowly up the road, which had sort of leveled off for the moment, and Sean said, Okay, watch for a sign on the left saying ‘Foster-Martin’. It should be just about where the next upgrade begins. There’s a gate, then a driveway going down. I’ve got the code for the keypad. George and Mike usually spend two weeks up here in June, but had to take their vacation in late July this year.

After a few minutes, Clint said, I see it up ahead.

Clint pulled up to the gate and used the keypad to enter the numbers Sean gave him. When the gate was fully open, they descended a rather steep concrete driveway, that ended at a parking pad beside what appeared to be a two-story building. The ground floor was of a plain cinder block construction and the upper floor was a modified A-frame design. Clint could see a garage door, a people door, and steps leading up the outside of the building. The steps ended at a deck that wrapped around the corner of the building and disappeared from their view. It also overlooked a small but very noisy mountain stream. When he exited the car, he heard the soothing sounds of water rushing over rocks, then spotted a little boy playing in the stream and saw two men sitting in lawn chairs between the deck and the stream, obviously watching the boy.

Paul read his mind and said, That’s George and Mike in the chairs, and the kid in the stream is Robbie, their adopted son. The furry guy up on the deck is Thor.

Clint could hear a dog barking and looked up to see an Irish Setter with its paws on the railing of the deck. The two men had obviously heard the dog, because they turned, spotted the new arrivals, and left their chairs to walk over and greet them. When their hosts had stopped hugging Sean and Paul, Sean introduced Clint and Lucien to George Martin and Mike Foster. George was a tall, attractive blond, and Mike, who was the same height, was a good-looking brunet. Clint pegged both men as being in their midthirties.

By the time everyone had been introduced, the boy had noticed their presence and left the creek to join the men. Hi, Sean, hi, Paul, he said.

Don’t even think about hugging them, kiddo, George said. At least not until you’re dry.

Yeah, why don’t you go inside, take a shower, and get dressed, Mike said. Then you can say hello to everyone.

Okay, the kid said, and hurried toward the steps on the side of the cabin.

It might be just me, Sean said, but Robbie doesn’t quite run everywhere like he did the last time we saw him, does he?

You’re very observant, not to mention accurate, George said. Get your bags out of the car and we’ll show you to your rooms.

Their hosts led them through the people door, and Clint saw a set of stairs going up to the next floor and a short hallway with a couple of doors opening off it. There was also a small open area to the right, and he could see two doors, through one of which he could see into the garage.

Choose your own rooms down the hall, George said. Downstairs bathroom is to your right, and if the line gets too long in the morning, Sean and Paul know where the master bath is upstairs. We’ll leave you to get settled in, and you can join us on the deck when you’re ready.

Clint and Lucien entered the first of the two downstairs bedrooms and found a pleasant, paneled room containing a queen-size bed, a nightstand, and a chest of drawers. They set their roll-around suitcases in one corner of the room, and Clint said, Need to use the facilities before we join our hosts, Cien?

We made a pit stop right after lunch, cher, Lucien said, so I’m okay.

Then what are we waiting for?

They walked hand in hand up the steps and found themselves in a paneled great room, the front of which was a wall of windows. They could see the deck outside, and to their right was a galley-style kitchen with a breakfast table in one corner. When they emerged on the deck, they found George and Mike relaxing on adjacent chaise lounges.

Make yourselves at home, Mike said. We’ll offer you something to drink as soon as everyone’s on the deck.

Clint, George said, Sean told us that you’re writing a book about the experiences he and Paul had.

Yes, Sir. We’re sort of retracing their steps the night they were kidnapped. I’ve persuaded my publisher to allow a spread of photographs in the middle of the book.

If the book is as well-written as your documentation of that preacher’s victims, it should do well, Mike said.

Yeah, George said. Mike and I have both read and enjoyed it.

Thanks. It wouldn’t have been possible if you hadn’t paved the way for Dr. Poucher and me to see the Deputy Director of Operations of the FBI, Frank Maynard, in DC.

I’m glad it worked out so well for you, George said.

By the way, George, my new editor speaks very highly of you.

Who would that be?

"Reggie Buckman. He came to the Washington Ledger not too long ago from the Florida Times-Union. He said he didn’t actually know you, but he’d heard a lot of good things about you."

I sort of recognize the name, but I don’t have a lot to do with the media.

Don’t be modest, babe, Mike said. How many press conferences have you held?

Standing up in front of the cameras isn’t quite the same as one-on-one contact.

You’re awfully quiet, Lucien, Mike said.

I’m just sitting here enjoying nature and listening to the conversation.

What do you do?

I got my doctorate at GWU last year, and now I design websites.

GWU? Mike said.

George Washington University.

He’s also a great cook when it comes to Cajun food, Clint said. Do you guys like spicy food?

Sure, George said, and Mike nodded in agreement.

Good, Lucien said. If I can find what I need in a local supermarket, I’ll fix us something while we’re here.

I wonder where Sean and Paul are? Clint said.

Probably testing the bed in their room, cher, Lucien said.

Actually, that thought had crossed my mind when we put our bags in our room, Clint said, but I thought it best to restrain my urges until tonight.

Sean and Paul have spent a couple of Christmases with us here in the cabin, George said, so they’re accustomed to making themselves at home while they’re here.

Speaking of the devil, here they come, Mike said.

Sean and Paul walked out onto the deck, and George said, Have you guys seen Robbie?

We ran into him in the great room, and he insisted that we follow him up to the loft so he could show us his new electronic keyboard, Paul said. He’s still up there practicing, and Thor is lying on the floor beside him.

He does that a lot, but that’s what you’d expect from a musical prodigy, and wherever Robbie is, Thor won’t be far away, George said.