Town Proper Ii

By Patrick Avington

When Warren left, Blaine wondered why me? She had always stepped up to the plate for the good ole boys but really didnt know if they would return the favor or if it were a one way street with them.

But then again, if you knock on the Devils door, it opens, and you cross that threshold, no one really knows what a menacing outcome may await.

There were two pictures of babies (probably two or three months old) and on the back an inscription: My two sons, Joe and Rory. I love you.

Mrs. Coleridge started by saying, Ive been thinking about this day for a long time, Joe. Im happy its finally here. Its time to rid myself of secrets Ive kept so many years.

After a few words from the clergy, it was time to lower the casket. Mercedes with her daughter and granddaughter by her side placed a single rose on it and in a soft voice vowed, Our secret will never be revealed; nothing will taint the memory of our time together; I will kill first.

In college she was a fierce competitor and graduated with high honors, but few friends. She always found someones Achilles heel and took advantage, and with no conscience going right for the throat. Just like her father.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Sep 30, 2004
• ISBN: 9781468515909

Patrick Avington

Patrick Avington is the pen name of the writing team of Marsha Patrick and Dorothy Avington.   Marsha Patrick was born and raised in New Jersey.  She began her career as a professional horsewoman, traveling throughout the Midwest and Texas showing horses.  Her prize winning quarter horses lead her to Pennsylvania, where she began a second career as owner of a jewelry store and fine arts gallery.  She now resides in Texas with her husband and Maltese dog, Cody.  “Town Proper II” is the second book (book two of a trilogy) with coauthor Dorothy Avington.   Dorothy Avington earned both her Bachelor and Master of education degrees and spent several “great” years teaching.

Book preview

© 2004 Patrick Avington

All Rights Reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

This book is a work of fiction. Places, events, and situations in this story are purely fictional and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

First published by AuthorHouse 08/13/04

ISBN: 978-1-4184-8816-1 (softcover)

ISBN: 978-1-4184-8817-8 (hardcover)

ISBN: 978-1-4685-1590-9 (e-book)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2004095683

Printed in the United States of America

Bloomington, Indiana

This book is printed on acid-free paper.

Contents

Acknowledgments

The Characters

Amsterdam, The Netherlands

Dublin, Ireland

The Town, U.S.A.

About the Author

A fist full of gain and a town full of shame……

An Irish Proverb

Dedication

To Friendship

Acknowledgments

The town’s voice

The various voices of family and friends for their support and suggestions

Marsha Patrick

Dorothy Avington

Earlier in Town Image13500.tif roper I introduced myself and some of the people who live here. Let me take a few minutes to reacquaint everyone and to give a little background information to new friends.

For many years I enjoyed the experiences found in small village life. I was surrounded by beautiful and expansive farmland. People in the village were friendly, warm, and caring of each other’s needs. Along my dirt roads there were shops, which accommodated the needs of hardworking, honest people, some living within the village and others on the outskirts. Signs over the shops read: Feed Store, Blacksmith, Barber, and Haberdashery. There was a tavern and a home-style restaurant, too, where many would meet weekly for a good meal, relaxation, and an exchange of conversation. A small church was located just outside my limits.

I am proud of my two hundred years of history. Over time I grew and many changes occurred. The railroad came; striking architecture replaced much of the more simple structures; my roads were paved, and brick sidewalks constructed. This was the beginning of change. New residents came. The loyalties of the past began to erode, and greed and the desire for personal power began to encroach upon my boundaries.

I was fortunate to have enjoyed the beauty and tranquility afforded me so many years; however, I am now caught in the 90’s mosaic of large banks and investment houses, a restaurant/bar on every other corner, well dressed professionals hustling and bustling in all directions, and cars (Mercedes, Jaguars) traveling in and out of town.

Today I am suburbia, but what have I really become? Some have referred to me as the little town of horrors, and believe I’m in a struggle for survival. Perhaps they’re right. Leading citizens who could make an indelible, positive mark instead are engaged in a fight for absolute power and use all kinds of corrupt maneuvers in their quest. Yes, they’re difficult to do battle with, but there may be individuals here who actually can.

Listed below are the people you may remember you grew to love or hate. Most continue to be important in my story.

The Characters

And, there are new people who play interesting roles as my story progresses. Let me mention just two. One, Tony, young, manipulator, blackmailer (who suffers dire consequences) and two, Winston Bainbridge, diamond merchant on a secret mission.

The story continues……..

Amsterdam, The Netherlands

Despite the fact it was Friday the thirteenth Winston Bainbridge felt lucky because he believed his long journey to track down the diamonds he had stolen from his partners, and which then mysteriously were replaced with rough of much less value, was going to yield, at last, positive information. It was a damp, ugly day. Europe was experiencing an unusually cold, rainy winter, but despite the gloom of the day his spirit was ignited and in turn it warmed his bones.

Winston Bainbridge was born in England and reared in South Africa by parents who were missionaries to that part of the world. They were truly dedicated to doing God’s work, and had established a school for children from a nearby village. Here they taught the traditional reading, writing, and arithmetic, and also bible study. They themselves were highly educated and well prepared to provide an excellent education for their students many of whom years later joined other graduates of mission schools in the pursuit of equal opportunities for all in the educational, economic, and political arenas.

Winston was fascinated by the beauty of the land, its people and their customs, and the industry where many of its people worked as unskilled laborers at low wages – the mining industry. Even at a young age he observed the fact that a group of English and other Europeans owned the rights to the mines, and he dreamed of being an owner one day, but he knew he needed to learn as much as possible about all aspects of the industry. He was very intelligent and fortunate to be able to study at the university where he took on a double major, chemical engineering and physics, graduating with two majors in just four years. He then continued his education studying gemology becoming certified a short time later; his area of expertise – diamonds.

Although his parents would have liked him to follow them in missionary work, they knew he was his own person, and they were proud of his accomplishments. They were deceased now, and it was certainly better they didn’t know the anything but soul saving, devious path he had chosen. He had seen poor and rich, and early on he decided he liked rich better.

As Winston stepped out of the rental car (a silver Jaguar) he had picked up at the airport, he looked, as always, striking, very dapper: tall, slender, immaculately dressed in a classic black Burberry trench coat left open revealing a fine tailored suit from Savile Row in London, custom made leather shoes, and carrying a leather attaché. In the attaché he had fake papers identifying him as a certified insurance claims investigator for a British firm, the London office.

Straight ahead was the import, export facility where he hoped he would be able to check documents which would facilitate the recovery of his missing diamonds. The sign over the building read: Jon Vander & Sons, Purveyors and Shippers of Goods & Customs Documents.

Upon entering the building he went directly to the customs desk and in his very distinctive British accent identified himself to the clerk, a rather official, pleasant looking man. He then presented documents for goods supposedly shipped from there but never received according to his client. As the papers showed, the claim was a couple of years old, but somehow had been mislaid. Now discovered, his company was making it a priority.

Winston said, To the best of my knowledge, the goods was sent to my client’s firm in London which has no record of receipt. I have several dockets of shipments received around the same time, but none for the specific goods in question. Perhaps I could review your records which might yield some clues to the whereabouts of the items in dispute.

The clerk said, I think you should go down to shipping and check there with the person in charge. Unfortunately the person in charge for the past thirty-five years just recently retired; however, the new man worked closely with him and knows the job well. Tell him I sent you.

Winston not disheartened told the clerk he appreciated his time, and then went directly to shipping. The man in charge was not that cooperative (maybe just