Something in the Dark

By James White

Greedy, arrogant and fearless in his pursuit of gratification, Gerald Evans had few boundaries. But when he was careless with the money and wife of a major crime figure, consequences came in the form of underworld assassins. Although their first attempt to end Geralds life was successful, doctors and an angelic spirit are able to pull him back from the death that embraced his body and soul.

Its then that Geralds family learns of the magnitude of his corruptions and also of the horrific story he relates about his journey to Hell, and the tortures he endured there during his brief but chilling death. Fearful of ever returning to that terrible place, Gerald is determined to repent his ways, but the killers are just as determined to complete their job.

Suspicious of Geralds story and intentions, his small and vulnerable family will reluctantly put themselves in harms way to protect a man that has tested their love and violated their trust.

At the head of the family, Geralds brother-in-law, Jayme Harrison, will find himself caught between the influences of Heaven and Hell, assassins and police, while trying to keep the fractured family unified and the man he dislikes alive. Now with lives and souls at stake, they all have good reason to fear something in the dark.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Oct 12, 2012
• ISBN: 9781475950205

James White

Dr. James White is Professor of Plant Biology at Rutgers University in New Brunswick, New Jersey, USA. Dr. White obtained the B.S. and M.S. degrees in Botany and Plant Pathology/Mycology from Auburn University, Alabama, and the Ph.D. in Botany from the University of Texas, Austin in 1987. Dr. White specializes in symbiosis research, particularly endophytic microbes. He is the author of more than 400 articles, and author and editor of reference books on the biology, taxonomy, and phylogeny of microbial endophytes, including Biotechnology of Acremonium Endophytes of Grasses (1994), Microbial Endophytes (2000), The Clavicipitalean Fungi (2004), The Fungal Community: Its Organization and Role in the Ecosystem (2005; 2016), Defensive Mutualism in Microbial Symbiosis (2009) and Seed Endophytes: Biology and Biotechnology (2019). He and students in his lab are exploring diversity of endophytic and biostimulant microbes and the various impacts that they have on host plants.

Book preview

ONE

It’s written that death comes like a thief in the night. Personally, I’ve found that death comes in many forms. Tonight it came in the form of a speeding car careening across the road, where it challenged a utility pole for the space it occupied. The pole stood its ground of course, devouring man and machine. The contorted remnants smoldered in a twisted pile of metal, rubber and flesh.

I thanked the police officer for his call and sat numbly on the edge of the bed, trying to digest everything I’d just heard.

Numerous random thoughts had to be sifted, sorted and prioritized. There were four people that should know about this tonight. My daughter, who was fond of Gerald, would be the first. Then my best friend, who hated the dead man passionately. Next, my sister, otherwise known as Gerald’s wife. The fourth would be my Mother. I wasn’t sure what Mom really thought of Gerald but she was the matriarch of the family and had to be at the forefront of all family issues. I dreaded the prospect of telling any of them, and entertained the thought of just going to bed and pretending the phone hadn’t rang.

I should have been full of sympathy, but I wasn’t. For the few he left behind, of course. But not for Gerald. Instead, I stole a moment to wonder if he had time to be overwhelmed with remorse as he faced an abrupt end to his egotistical history of self-indulgence and greed. If there’s an afterlife, I could only guess where Gerald was now… probably getting a colonoscopy from a pitch fork. If fate dictated our little clan had to lose another member, this time it took the ugly, low hanging fruit from the family tree.

I gazed at Nikki’s picture on the nightstand, as if to share the news. She smiled at me, as she had done from inside the little wooden frame for the past twenty seven months and three weeks. Impulsively, I reached for the drawer under the picture and removed her favorite night shirt. Pressing it to my face, I recalled the faint but familiar fragrance. I used to wonder where Nikki was now, but I decided a long time ago she must be in a wonderful place. Her love and goodness allowed for nothing less. Gerald on the other hand, was a different story.

The clock next to Nikki said it was almost ten. The time for quiet contemplation was over. In moments like these, a person forms a pretty good idea of what the rest of their night is going to be like and resigns themselves to it. At least Gerald had the courtesy to have his final calamity on a Friday night. It would take considerable time to deal with the consequences. My work schedule wouldn’t be a conflict… for now, anyway.

My first call went to my best friend Brady, who despised Gerald with all his heart and soul. There was a time when they were friends, but Gerald had destroyed that too.

There wasn’t much of a response from the other end of the phone when I related to Brady what the police had told me about Gerald’s accident. Only when I had finished my account, and waited through a lengthy pause, did Brady speak. Why did the police ask if you could come by the hospital, if Gerald died by accident? That seems pretty unusual to me.

I don’t know. Didn’t even think to ask. Maybe I was too shocked at the news, and had the girls on my mind.

Something’s not right. I’ll meet you at the hospital. I’m leaving in ten minutes.

Thanks, but you don’t have to do that. I’ve got this. I just wanted you to know.

I’ve already put my pants on and I’m not taking them off again. See you at the hospital. He hung up before I could open my mouth. I shook my head and probably smiled just a bit. Maybe Brady needed to feel like he was providing support to the closest thing to a family he had known for years. Maybe this would be his closure, being there for Gerald’s demise. I would likely never know for sure.

Diane’s bedroom was next to mine. A small guest quarters and a separate bath were the only other rooms in the upstairs portion of our house. Being an older home that had been through some remodeling, half the walls were plaster, and the others sheet rock, a variety of pastel colors adorned them, just as Nikki had wanted. The mixture of modern and antique furniture somehow blended in with the color scheme. Nikki had a way of making it look seamless. I hadn’t moved or changed a thing.

Learned behavior is a hard thing to overcome. Even though I was intending to wake her up, I walked softly, silently, down the hall. I paused outside of Diane’s door, listening for noises, but not really knowing why. I was hesitating, trying to figure out how to tell her what had happened. She was ten years old now, and I figured she could handle this kind of news. But she would be the most difficult person to tell besides Shannon.

I knocked and Diane immediately invited me in. Good, at least she was still awake. When I turned on the lamp by the bed and sat next to her, the look on her face acknowledged the look that was probably on mine. Only minutes earlier, I had been stroking her long black hair, talking admirably about her performance in a fifth grade school play, and kissing her good night. What a difference a phone call can make.

Diane was one of the few people that had a real connection to her Uncle Gerald. Of course, Diane could probably find goodness in Count Dracula. But admittedly, Gerald was a different person around her. He was attentive, and caring, or so he seemed. Regardless, I delivered the news carefully, leaving out the unsavory details of the accident. She took it better than I anticipated, as children sometimes do. But there are always aftershocks to deal with. We hugged for a while, and as I pressed my cheek into her hair, I wondered how someone so young had to lose so many people they loved.

A few minutes later, we prepared a few things for Diane’s stay at her Grandma’s house. I knew Mom would help her through this event better than me. When it comes to comforting women of any age, I’m a typical guy and I handle these things dismally.

As much as I hated calling Mom at the late hour, I had to press her into babysitting duty and provide an overview of the situation. Of course, I didn’t share my speculations that her son-in-law had probably been drinking and womanizing again. Mom knew Gerald and Shannon were going through rough times, but she didn’t need to know such details, at least not from me.

It took longer than I’d hoped, but I finally delivered a bleary-eyed Diane and a few necessities to Mom’s condo. Mom had been able to get hold of my sister and told her about Gerald’s accident. I was grateful to be off that hook, and asked how Shannon took the news. Mom couldn’t measure Shannon’s reaction beyond the fact that she was stunned, of course. My sister would be taking the next available red-eye flight back home.

Shannon the Social Butterfly, was somewhere in Mexico. It was time for her yearly pilgrimage to some secluded spa where she could get mud treatments on the outside, tequila treatments on the inside, and time away from Gerald. Now she was trying to get back home, so she could pretend to be a caring wife to the guy who pretended to be a caring husband. And I was off to meet Brady at the hospital, so we could pretend to care too. There’s nothing like a crisis to bring out the warmth of some families.

Unfortunately, Shannon and I hadn’t been close for a long time, and her snotty attitude was more than I could bear on occasion. When Gerald had started making big money, she became cold and pretentious. But she deserved my support and was going to get it whether she liked it or not. As for Gerald, he was my least favorite person on the planet, but he was still a human being and part of this family. If I had to give myself an attitude adjustment until this ordeal was over with, then so be it. After giving Mom and Diane extended hugs, I climbed into the jeep and was back on the road.

I kept the window down and the radio off, enjoying the solitude of the starlit night, and feeling the cool, damp air. It may have been selfish considering the circumstances, but I relished the few minutes of peace and quiet. Springtime in the California bay area with the breeze coming in from the ocean is pretty hard to beat. Reality can’t be ignored for very long though. I arrived at my destination sooner than I really wanted to.

There’s only one upside to visiting the hospital late at night; there’s ample parking. I easily spotted Brady’s classic old Mustang and parked next to it, near the emergency room entrance.

I gawked at the huge white building towering before me and my eyes followed the structure upward to its apex. It’s when I brought my attention back to eye level that I noticed the tall, powerfully built man leaning against a black Porsche, smoking a cigarette. He was staring at Brady’s Mustang. A car affection ado maybe? This particular Mustang was a very rare model, and it always drew attention from car buffs. But to be sure, I decided to wait for a minute and observe, just in case.

This guy had a way of keeping one hand or the other close enough to my side of his face that it obscured his features, and that was enough to bother me. Something about a black suit and snakeskin boots was a little unusual too. At this time of night in a hospital parking lot? Paranoid me, I decided to wait him out. But this character was a slow smoker with a long cigarette, and as I sat there, my thoughts drifted back to the secret feud between Brady and Gerald.

Times were rough when Brady caught his wife, Donna, in bed with Gerald. Despite the pain of betrayal, Brady insisted the affair be hidden from Shannon and everyone else. Those were dreadful days. Nikki had just been taken from us by cancer, and Brady knew our family didn’t need any more scrutiny at the time. Besides, he wanted to try to work it out with Donna. The fewer public dramas, the better. It had been almost two years now and he was still trying. If anyone had good reason to despise Gerald, it was Brady. He was here tonight in support of me and my family, not for Gerald. Good friends are rare, and we treated Brady as he deserved, like he was related by blood. As if on cue, my cell phone rang. It was Brady.

Where the hell are you? he asked.

The character with expensive boots was just starting his car to leave, so I decided not to mention it. Just on my way into the ER, I replied, walking briskly towards the sidewalk now.

I’ll meet you in the ER lobby.

I’ll be there in two minutes.

I’ve always disliked hospitals, especially the Emergency Room. One step through the doors and your senses are struck by the serious demeanor and sterile atmosphere that oozes through the entire building.

On the worst day of my life, I had wandered the halls of this building like a zombie, having just watched Nikki pass away. Years before that, it was because of Dad’s fatal illness. Now I was back again, trying to focus on the task at hand but not doing a very good job at it. I had to remind myself that sick and broken people come here for help. It’s not a place where you go to find amusement or entertainment. I made a mental note that when all this was over, I should take Diane to a circus or the zoo. We both needed it.

There was a decorative panel on one wall of the ER that incorporated some mirror work. I stopped before passing it, just long enough to wonder how the man in the reflection was going to handle this situation with his sister, daughter and mother. They were all that’s left of our small family. Mom had a couple of siblings but they lived far away in other states. Brady had become an honorary family member, and Diane had always called him Uncle. The drafting of others into our little clan wasn’t going to become a routine though. The man in the mirror had no answers yet, just a bunch of rambling thoughts. He simply looked like a typical forty-ish, slender built, salt and pepper haired guy with bags under both eyes of his confounded face.

Brady stood near the mid-point of the lobby, leaning against the wall, relaxing his lanky six foot frame. This was one of many times when his posture made me wonder if there were any skeleton in that tall bag of skin. Brady had two or three inches on me, but his dirty blonde hair was thinning, and mine still had most of its thickness. His weary blue eyes followed my voyage across the room. I noticed the other dozen or so occupants while I navigated my way towards Brady. Everyone seemed pretty glum. I figured they all had a good reason, given the place we were at.

Real smiles are hard to fabricate at such times, and it felt more like I just contorted my lips. Sorry, it took a while to get things settled on the home front.

Brady took a sip from a little paper coffee cup. No worries. The action isn’t over with, I guess. He looked tired and it showed in his voice.

What do you mean? Do they want some paperwork signed or some other stuff I really don’t want to do?

Maybe, not sure about that yet. Head this way and I’ll show you where they want us to wait. Some doctor asked me not to leave until he got back and they put me in a separate room. I have no idea why. Brady headed across the lobby and motioned me to follow.

We traveled down a lonely hallway, passing some patient rooms. Most of the doors were open. Some had occupants connected to tubes and wires, with machines reporting their vital signs while fluids and God-knows-what dripped into their veins. When my time comes, I hope I just die in my sleep before well meaning members of the medical world congregate around me with an arsenal of needles and probes.

We entered a small waiting room, which I figured was used for specific purposes and thus separated from the lobby area. There was no sign on the door. The walls were painted in drab green with old style linoleum flooring. The main furnishing was a short legged but long width coffee table, smothered with layers of randomly set magazines. The table was bordered with hard plastic chairs, in a variety of colors. Maybe the hospital budget hadn’t allowed for upgrades of the waiting rooms. Not far from the door there was a hot beverage machine. It must have been at least half my age.

Anyone that’s had a cup of coffee from a fifteen-year-old hot beverage machine knows what to expect. After you finally find a dollar bill the machine will accept, you push a series of buttons to choose the strength, sweetness and creamer options. Finally a small cup plops beneath the spout. It was almost midnight and I watched with mind numbing indifference as freeze dried coffee crystals resisted being dissolved in the little cup of heated and possibly stagnant water. I just had to have some. Brady excused himself for a bathroom run while I negotiated with the machine.

Taking my little steaming cup to the orange colored chair that sat next to Brady’s blue one, I sat down and took a sip. Is there really such a thing as bad coffee at this time of night? Oh yeah.

I rationed small sips and thought more about Brady. His general outlook on life was lackluster at best, and he seldom entertained a bright side to any situation. This tendency and his outspoken nature had earned him the nickname he carried before we even met; hence I had been best friends with one Bummer McCoy for many years. That moniker still haunts him from time to time, but wise people know better than to call him that.

I was wiping the residue of freeze-dried coffee crystals from my lips when Brady returned and dropped into the chair next to me. He seemed aloof, not making eye contact while he went about adjusting his arms, shoulders and head in an effort to find some more comfortable arrangement. After rubbing his face and making a few unintelligible noises, he finally found an acceptable position. These fricking chairs aren’t made for sitting too long, or for people my size, he grumbled.

Yeah I guess not. Sorry again that I kept you waiting so long, but I really appreciate you coming down here, especially since it’s because of Gerald, of all people. Brady made some kind of grunting noise and still avoided eye contact.

I wondered if he was having thoughts of Donna. She was one subject that he was never eager to talk about, even to me. But I knew she was always lurking in the background of his thoughts. He had at times sported a new façade. It was a faraway look that was laced with sadness and regret.

After some contemplation, Brady responded, Not a problem, coming down here. To tell the truth, I’m not sure what made me want to come. Maybe I felt it would be some kind of closure. Sounds a little tacky, huh?

Nah, you know I was never fond of Gerald, even though he’s my sister’s husband. And Shannon’s just become a homegrown Diva since they got married, so I’m finding it hard to be concerned with Gerald’s demise or Shannon’s reaction to all this. Mom and Diane are another story. I’m here for them really. Just like you’re here for me, and I appreciate that.

Brady finally looked at me, now that all the feelings were out on the table. Not a problem. I just hope we can get out of here soon.

What’s stopping us? You haven’t told me what anyone here has told you.

Yeah, well it’s kind of weird. This doctor with a middle-eastern accent came to tell me Gerald had passed away. As we were talking, he got paged, talked to someone, got all excited and rushed away. He asked me not to leave yet. I haven’t heard anything since.

It’s not weird at all if you think about it. This is just Gerald’s way of making things inconvenient for us one last time. He’s good at it even when he’s dead.

Yeah, well that’s not all of it, Brady looked as serious as I had ever seen him.

For God sake, what else is there?

A couple of cops were already here when I arrived. One was a big burly guy, a Detective Browning. At first they thought I was family, because I used your last name to get any information from the hospital.

You did what? I wondered about Brady’s reasoning behind that maneuver.

Oh crap, it just seemed like a good idea at the time. Anyway, they asked me about everyone in the family, what I knew about Gerald’s business dealings, and if anyone had threatened to harm him recently.

Threatened to harm him? What had Gerald gotten himself into now, I wondered? Where is this Detective Browning?

He said they will be in touch. They asked me if Gerald had any enemies. I explained he had a way of pissing people off, but I stopped short of implicating anyone in particular… including myself. I think Brady meant that last statement to come across humorously, but it was more than a little thought provoking. Now I was starting to understand why the police had asked me to come.

Excuse me; are one of you Mister Harrison? A woman wearing green scrubs had appeared in the doorway.

Yes, Brady and I both answered. I glanced at him and then remembered the lie he told about being family.

Oh… well I guess you are both related to Gerald Evans?

Yes, I answered, we are.

Doctor Ismail wanted me to tell you he should be here soon to discuss Mister Evans. In the meantime, he wanted me to advise you that contacting anyone about the patient’s condition could be premature.

Why? Brady asked.

The woman was hesitant. She looked older than us, short and overweight. Her puffy red cheeks and the way she drew in her breaths gave me the impression she was under stress or had just exerted herself. I can’t say. But I have to go back now. Doctor Ismail will be with you shortly. With that said, she was gone.

Brady and I looked at each other and I shrugged. He held up an empty paper cup. Coffee anyone?

TWO

The second cup of coffee left me mining my pockets for some Tums, and luckily I found one mixed in with some loose change. Brady McCoy was a different kind of animal. He had a cast iron stomach and could drink nuclear waste without as much as a burp.

We passed some of the time discussing Gerald. In his capacity as an investment banker and associated positions, he had been mixed up in some questionable financial dealings involving people with lots of money. While a few of his business partners had lost their money, jobs or freedom, Gerald somehow escaped with little more than a slap on the wrist from employers and judges alike. Brady and I had suspected for quite a while that the lavish lifestyle Gerald and Shannon enjoyed may have been a product of greed and dishonesty. After a while, Gerald bashing became boring, and we started watching the clock.

Over forty minutes had passed since our visitor stuck her head in the door, and Brady began walking the room like an expectant Father. Hands in his pockets, he looked down as he always did when he was troubled or in deep thought. His shoes made a soft, thumping rhythm while he incessantly journeyed the faded linoleum. With his long legs, Brady would reach one end of the room in the space of four steps, and then make a return trip. The tension was unsettling.

Are you in training for a pacing marathon?