The Scandalous Relative

By RG Langdon

A story that floods the senses with beautiful imagery. A car manufacturer finds that his father was murdered and is forced to go home for the funeral. A home and family he had not seen in decades, for a very good reason. There he meets a young lady who holds the rest of the story. She was given instructions from the diseased to follow in order to unveil the killer but that still leaves everyone vulnerable to be the next victim.

• Language: English
• Publisher: RG Langdon
• Release date: Nov 8, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386630937

Book preview

Chapter One:

The Deal Is Off

A TALL, DISAGREEABLE sort of man towered over the table nestled parallel to the back of the couch. In one hand he held the base of a telephone and in the other the receiver.

It was easy to tell by just looking at him that he had been very skinny and lanky decades ago. The years had since taken their toll.

His hair had a similar worn disheveled air. His hair was a bit course with out-of-place feathered ends. The color ranged from a medium gray to a light mousey brown.  It was in the process of drastically straying from the latter.

Though he was physically large and intrusive, none of those qualities were what turned heads. His voice was what attracted those who first approached him. It was loud and booming.  It was the sort of voice anyone could hear clearly at a party from across the hall. Though the sound levels were not it's only draw. The obnoxious bass was framed with a very worn in British accent. Each word he spoke into the telephone, no matter how small, had power. He forged each word without thinking, a slurring of instinct and inhibition. He stood impatiently listening to the voice on the other end. His restlessness was shown in the haphazard and random way in which he jostled the base.

The windows in front of him would have have been letting in a beautiful bright welcoming gesture symbolizing the entrance into the afternoon, but he kept the thick drapes unmoved, sealing in the dark dank colors that seemed to be decades old.  The room itself was a decent size, and the walls were covered in a thick decadent paper. Its style gestured its age, not it's condition. In fact, the only flaws in it seemed to cluster near any door frame.

The walls were the only garish feature, every other constructed feature was about average. The hardware was a demure silver. Not real silver, but realistic looking enough. This encompassed everything from the lamp base to the desk drawer handles. The desk rested its back against the back of the couch. The two very obviously fighting for the center of the room. The couch, the clear winner, was draped in a stiff fabric housing a leafy pattern that seemed to dance across it mechanically.

The only out of place feature was the man himself. He very obviously broke the aesthetic. His brow furrowed, a subtle reaction to the news he was receiving. He was very obviously trying to hold back his ire. An easily tempted demon. I don't care. Fix ... His demanding and somewhat terrifying words were swiftly started and finished. Fine." He said begrudgingly accepting the news.

With one swift motion, he slammed the receiver onto the base that was held in his left hand, then threw it against the wall. It shattered into hundreds of pieces. The flecks broke off in slow motion creating a starburst of freedom that lightly showered his face. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He turned back around to face the swaddled window.

Another man peered in from the hall. He was significantly shorter and better looking. What was that? He asked. His tone portrayed a touch of concern but was more rhetorically playful knowing exactly what the loud noise was. He looked down at the ground near the other man's feet and saw the mess of plastic. Thomas. He said trying not to laugh as he looks at the stoic pieces of plastic lying among the lush carpet. We can't keep buying new telephones. Thomas turned to see Richard standing awkwardly with both elbows resting on the side of the door frame.

The shareholders are not happy. He said. Richard stood silently, and his demeanor quickly changed from playful to concerned. In that moment he understood why the phone was no longer functioning.  Taking one step into the room he spoke. I'm sure it will work out. He said trying to quell his anger with optimistic projection even though he himself wasn't sure if he believed his words. Have you heard from Genera? He asked while walking even further into the room.

He was very much the athletic-looking sort, no extreme definition but reasonably toned. No, Thomas said tersely. Richard immediately regretted asking the question. let us just wait it out, we are already here, might as well. Thomas clumsily walked over to the desk that sat diagonally from the couch. The desk was covered in dozens of loose papers. Some designs and others not even worth mentioning. The only portion of that cluttered corner more distracting was the poster of the car they tacked to the wall above it.

Thomas wistfully shuffled through the papers. He picked one up, a sketch of a car similar to that on the poster. He looked at it, his demeanor was unmoving. I know we can make this work here. He said with defying certainty. His words did not surprise Richard but rather their delivery, there was a man underlying layer of pure hope. A childlike and pure emotion that was very uncommon in the vessel of all things harsh and detached. Of course Richard added, Even if Genera doesn't work out, there are other options. If the Copan can be sold in England it can be sold here. Spewing the last words in a comedic manner imitating the words Henry had said so many times before. Henry chuckled. It's true. Thomas relaxed and poured himself a stiff drink just as he finished the front door opened.

The duo remained silent until the man entered the room. So, he began while taking his coat off, though before he could continue Richard, shot him a look trying to signal him to stop, his efforts were lost on his very clueless friend. hear anything? Richard turned to Thomas bracing for another outburst of rage but his response was even more tongue. Oh,terrifying. Of course not. He said slumping onto the couch with a hint of defeat on his tongue.  Oh, I'm sure they will come through," William said finally realizing his kept. He whose mind was already wandering elsewhere grunted halfheartedly in response.

Richard slowly walked behind the couch. William saw what he was approaching and began to laugh. Richard methodically picked up each piece. He lied them all on the table where the whole phone was typically kept.  He tried forcing some of the larger pieces together very ungracefully, similar to how a child would have. Thomas leaned his head back to see what he was doing. Don't bother. He said waving his hand nonchalantly behind him. I will get another one later. William, who had taken a seat at the desk interjected. Are you sure? I don't mind stepping out again. No, no I will go. He insisted. Richard continued to tinker with the phone until Thomas got annoyed with the noise. Let it go. He said, It's obviously not going to work.

Even though that was obvious to Richard he still felt like trying to salvage it was the right thing to do at that moment. Thomas leaned to his side and pulled up the garbage pail. Richard accepted it and placed the pieces inside. Content that he was obeyed he stood to replenish his drink. His large hands reached out to grasp the decanter. He pulled out the gem-shaped stopper and poured a sliver more into his glass. With one rough but succinct motion, he lifted the glass to his lips disposed of its contents and returned it to the table.  I'm off. He announced. 

Richard took a deep breath as soon as the front door closed. He ran his hands through his thick disheveled hair. I hope he is feeling better by the time he returns. William mirrored his sentiment with an uneasy smile, a gesture of understanding. There is no reason to get upset, yet we have time. Richard's words sparked Williams memory. Oh! He exclaimed dramatically. Have you seen the Times article? Richard whipped around to face him. No! He said with an air of excitement and terror. What did it say?"