The Secret of Pine Valley

By S.M. Harris

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• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 29, 2010
• ISBN: 9781453595794

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Steve Moore was entering the apartment in which he lived one rainy evening, and he was taking his messages. One of the messages came from Mr. Sidney Crowne, one of his History professors from Northern University, his alma mater. When Steve took the telephone call, and he talked with Sidney, and Dr. Ben Norton, another one of his History professors from college, he had no idea what he was getting himself into. Dr. Stephen Moore had recently received his PhD in History, and he was teaching in a community college. He had felt the fruits of success from his first best-selling mystery novel, which he had written the year before.

Sidney wanted Steve to apply for a full time teaching position in the History department, because one of the professors in that department had recently retired. Steve decided to attempt to get the position. However, he was not fully aware of the danger which he was facing. Sidney informed Steve that he was in the middle of doing research on a book that he was planning on writing concerning the history of Pine Valley. An explanation that seemed simple quickly became much more complicated. Sidney had asked Steve to help him with his research. Ben was already helping Sidney with his research.

Steve discovered that his research might become the kiss of death for him once people started getting injured and killed in order to keep a deadly secret. Steve soon came in contact with the mighty Dumont family, a wealthy Black family from New Orleans that was trying to hide some very dangerous secrets. Soon, Steve found himself in a very deadly position. He had to battle some very powerful forces in Pine Valley, and battle lines were drawn, and as in any war, casualties began to mount up.

Pine Valley, a peaceful college town, became a smoldering den of inequity, and it is soon extremely clear that this college town is not what is appears to be. Northern University, also, is not what it appears to be. With an appearance of an educational institution, Northern University is really a corporation with different levels of power and prestige, and the administration, and the Dumont family, are willing to do anything to keep this enterprise strong and thriving. Power is truly the name of the game in Pine Valley, New York. Money is the prize in this power game. The winners keep their power or become stronger. The losers become casualties, and they simply fall from the tree and die out like dying leaves in autumn . . .

CHAPTER ONE

Dr. Steve Moore pulled into the apartment’s garage. He parked his shining blue BMW 533 in its proper parking space. Steve gave a loud, weary sigh, and he climbed out of his beautiful car. It was a hot, humid summer late afternoon in August. The raindrops were pouring down from the thick, grayish-colored clouds in the sky above.

Steve’s gray T-shirt clung relentlessly to his rotund body. His chocolate-colored skin glistened as perspiration poured down his body. Steve was a tall man—He was also a big man. He stood at about six foot two, and he weighed about two hundred ten pounds.

Steve dragged himself out of his car. His right knee and his right ankle were aching! Every time his right leg hurt him, Steve remembered that horrible evening when he was playing basketball for the Northern University Bucks, and he fell down on his ankle after stuffing the ball through the hoop, scoring two points, and he twisted his ankle! Steve’s navy blue shorts stuck to his body, also. The knee and ankle braces were not helping.

Now Steve regretted playing basketball with some students after he had finished teaching a course in Post World War II History at Hunt Community College. Steve practically limped across the parking lot to the elevator. He waved weakly to the security guard who was sitting in a booth at the entrance to the parking lot.

Hey, Dr. Moore, called Sam Jenkins, the guard.

Hey there, Sam, boomed Steve, I told you to call me Steve!

Sam chuckled.

Sorry sir! Congrats on getting the Ph.D!

Thanks, Sam. I never worked so hard in my life!

Not even on that best seller?

Steve approached Sam, and the two men shook hands.

Well, I might’ve worked as hard on that book!

Well, I just wanted to tell ya I’m proud o’ you, sir! Too many of us brothers is unemployed or in prison!

Thanks, Sam, you’re right. But I’m not anybody special.

Yes you are, Dr. Moore, said Sam, in a serious tone of voice.

Thanks. I’ll see you soon, Sam.

Okay, Steve. Later on.

Sam was about the same age as Steve, around the same height, complexion and weight as Steve, but Sam looked somewhat older than Steve.

Steve dragged himself into the elevator. He pressed the button for the third floor, where his apartment was located. While he practiced law in a small firm, Steve had managed to be able to afford this nice apartment, but after his fifth and latest mystery novel, entitled Death Takes a Vacation reached Number One on the best seller charts, Steve immediately had more money than he could ever spend! This happened a few weeks after Steve received his PhD in History from Capitol University the year before. Steve could not believe that he could be this successful at the age of thirty-six.

Steve leaned against one of the walls of the elevator, and he rubbed his forehead. He was very exhausted! Right now, all Steve wanted to do was to take a nice, long, hot shower and then take a long, peaceful nap. When the doors of the elevator opened, Steve looked up and he saw an older couple in their sixties. Their skin was pale and littered with liver spots, and their hair was white. They were both wearing a red shirt and beige-colored pants. The wife looked up at Steve, and her face creased into a smile.

Dr. Steve Moore! she piped, "I just finished reading your book Death Takes a Vacation! Could you autograph it for me? My name is Carole!"

And Carole pulled a copy of the book out of the green bag that she was carrying over her shoulder. She gave the book to Steve.

Sure, replied Steve, and he autographed the inside flap of the book.

He gave the book back to Carole.

Thank you so much! . . . And she admired the book, Oh, this is Hank, my husband.

Hank gave Carole an angry glance, and he shook hands with Steve.

Pleased to meet you, Mr. Moore, said Hank.

It’s a pleasure, said Steve.

Wait till I tell the girls at the bridge club! exclaimed Carole.

The couple hurried off.

Steve gave a half grin, and he shook his head. After two years, Steve was still trying to make the adjustment to being a celebrity! Steve likes practicing law, but he liked mystery writing even better! As Steve dragged himself to apartment 306, his apartment, he winced with pain. His knee was throbbing with pain! He took out the keys, and he unlocked the door to his apartment.

It was an attractive apartment—a living room, a kitchen, a dining room, two bedrooms and a bathroom. The price was also very affordable for him—twelve hundred dollars a month. As Steve’s favorite color was blue, the entire apartment was painted over in several shades of blue. The couches and the armchairs in the living room were navy blue, and the walls were sky blue. The bathtub and sink and the toilet in the bathroom were even painted blue! Steve was very proud of what he had done with his life.

He carried his mail into the apartment with him. Four bills, and The White Rose—His fraternity magazine. Steve decided to review all of this mail later on. Most of Steve’s correspondence with his friends was communicated through his E-mail. Steve had a computer on his desk in the living room, and yes, it was a sky blue colored computer.

Steve tossed the letters onto a nearby end table, and he peered down at his fraternity magazine. Steve had joined the Omega Delta Chi fraternity seventeen years earlier as an undergraduate student at Northern University. Steve found himself smiling as he remembered his college years, and the good times that he had spent with his fraternity brothers. Those were definitely the happiest years of his life. Steve missed those years. He opened up the magazine and he began to leaf through the pages.

Steve began to reminisce about those years. The smile remained on his face. It was a smile that had not entered his face very much since he graduated from Northern University. It was during these years that Steve met his two best friends—Manuel Duncan and Chance Chautard. All three of these young men pledged Omega Delta together, and they had been best friends ever since.

As Omega Delta Chi was one of the top three predominantly Black fraternities on Northern’s campus, many of the brothers traditionally came from the wealthier Black families in the South. Manuel and Chance both came from wealthy families. Steve came from an affluent background, but his family was not as wealthy as their families.

Like Steve, Manuel was in his thirties—He was 35-years-old. He had become a successful defense attorney. And like Steve, Manuel was also a bachelor with no children. About half of their fraternity brothers who were their age had gotten married. Manuel was a bachelor by choice. His family had been trying to marry him off into another prominent light-skinned Black family for the past fifteen years! Manuel was not a tall man—He stood at about five foot five. In college, Manuel was muscular, weighing about one hundred seventy pounds with jet black hair. Since college, Manuel had gained about forty-five pounds and his jet black hair was now nearly completely gray. A socially excessive lifestyle in his teens and twenties had caused Manuel to age prematurely. Manuel had peach-colored skin and uncommonly clear gray eyes.

Chance was 37-years-old, and he was the Executive Vice President at Rothchild Enterprises. Chance had been hired by the company one semester before he graduated from college. As Manuel was short, Chance was fairly tall. He stood at about six foot two, and he weighed around two hundred pounds. Like Manuel, he had light brown-colored skin, and flaxen hair, but his hair was nearly completely gray. He had cold blue eyes. Even though Chance had gained about sixty pounds since graduating from college, he was not fat, but robust. As with Manuel, the deep black hair that Chance sported in college now had several gray strands.

As Manuel had always been laid back and gregarious, Chance had a more serious personality and he was much more career-oriented than was Manuel. Chance had married Miss Antoinette Renaud five years earlier, and they had had a large, expensive wedding. Steve and Manuel were both the best men at his wedding. After five years, Steve still remembered Chance’s wedding day. It was a hot, humid day in early July, in New Orleans, Louisiana. The entire Dumont family came from New Orleans. It was a garden wedding, as the wedding took place in the gigantic, immaculate garden in the rear of the Chautard estate’s property.

Even though it was hot and sticky outside that day, it was sunny and bright. The smoldering, yellowish sun was beating down on the wedding party and their guests and relatives. The strong, sweet scent of the magnolia flowers filled the air. Steve was surrounded by roses, petunias and geraniums blossoming in a myriad of bright colors. Everyone seemed to hang on every word that Reverend Ellison said.

Wealthy Southern families took their weddings very seriously!

Perhaps that was the reason that Manuel had never gotten married. Manuel rarely took anything seriously! Manuel, as everyone had called him, was a clown. He had even changed his name! His birthname was Russell Allister Duncan III.

Steve closed the door to his apartment, and he saw that the red light was flashing on his answering machine. Steve gave a loud sigh. He dragged himself across the living room, to the machine, and he clicked it on.

Hey Steve! It’s Manuel! I’m still waitin’ on you to let me know when you’re comin’! We got some boozin’ and floozin’ to do, like in our Omega days! Don’t leave me hangin’, homeslice!

And Manuel clicked off. Steve grinned. He was going to call Manuel and Chance that evening. He really missed those guys! The machine beeped again. Hello, Steve. This is Professor Crowne. Please call me as soon as possible! I’ve discovered something important! I need your help! Please call me as soon as possible! And the machine clicked off.

A frown clouded Steve’s face.

Professor Sidney Crowne was one of Steve’s History professors when he attended Northern University. He was one of Steve’s favorite professors. The two men had managed to keep in touch with each other over the years. Even though Professor Crowne was eccentric, Steve still liked him. Steve was growing more concerned as he continued pondering Professor Crowne’s message. Steve decided that he would call Sidney back at this moment, and then he would take a shower.

The rain outside was beating down much more heavily at this time, and the thunder rumbled. Steve picked up his sky blue cellular telephone, and he clicked it on. He dialed a telephone number. The telephone on the other side of the line buzzed twice before it was answered.

Hello? . . . Professor Crowne here . . . he said in a timid voice.

Steve could immediately sense that something was unquestionably wrong. After a brief pause, he spoke.

Hey professor! It’s Steve Moore!

Hello, Stephen. I was hoping you’d call me back before the day was over!

The frown on Steve’s face deepened.

He could sense a certain shaky quality in Sidney’s voice.

Sidney, I get the distinct impression that something is wrong!

As usual, commented Sidney, Your instincts are correct!

Sidney was sitting in a wooden swivel chair in his stuffy, boxy compact office. He sat at his tall, wooden desk. There were papers stacked up in sloppy piles on top of his desk. There was a small Apple computer placed on a small table beside his desk.

Sidney looked very bedraggled. His skin was pale, his salt and pepper hair was stringy and unkempt, and he had a five-day-old beard on his face. His clothes lay sloppily on his body.

It was dark and hot in Sidney’s cramped office. The only light in this room came from the light of the computer screen.

Steve, he whispered, I need you to get to Pine Valley immediately! It could be life or death!

What?! What are you talkin’ about?!

I can’t get into it here! I’m calling you from my office! Somebody might hear me! Maybe a spy for the Dumont family! You know they own this entire valley, Stephen!

Now wait a minute, professor! Slow down! Now, why are you so concerned about the Dumont family overhearing you?

Because they’re involved! Northern University is involved, too!

How? What are you talking about? You’re not making any sense!

Sidney closed his eyes, and he took a deep breath. There were so many things that he wanted to tell Steve, about his discovery, about the danger that he was in. Sidney tried to collect his thoughts. He had to speak clearly; he had to make Steve aware of the danger he was in!

Now, he spoke more slowly.

Stephen, I’ve been doing research on a new novel I plan on writing about a contemporary history of Pine Valley, and I discovered something—something terrible! I brought it to the attention of three people—Dr. Karen Henderson, my Department Head, Dr. Calvin Hines, the President of Northern University, and Mr. Nelson Dumont, CEO of Dumont Advertising Enterprises. They ordered me to shred my information, but I haven’t!

What is so important about this information that they wanted you to shred it? asked a frowning Steve.

I can’t tell you over the phone. I need you to come to the university. I really want you to come to Northern to teach, and help me with my research.

Well . . .

You received your PhD last year, right?

Yes.

Well, Professor Maurice Jenkins is retiring this year—In fact, he retired last May! There’s an opening.

But I don’t have any experience! I’ve only taught at community colleges off and on for the past ten years and practiced law for three years! exclaimed Steve.

You have to start somewhere, Steve! Apply for the position! You’re a Northern alumnus and your dissertation was superb! I’ll vouch for you, and give Dr. Ben Norton a call! He’ll be a reference for you, too!

There was a brief pause.

Steve thought about Sidney’s suggestion. He had always wanted to teach on the campus of a large, prestigious Big Ten university like Northern University. This would also be a way in which Steve could obtain a position in college administration. And he always wanted to return to his favorite alma mater.

Okay, Sidney, said Steve, I’ll apply for the position. I’ll call Dr. Norton right away.

Great! I have to go! I’ll talk to you soon!

Bye-

And Sidney abruptly clicked off.

Steve was still frowning.

He dialed another telephone number on his cellular phone. Steve’s shower would have to wait for a few more minutes. The telephone buzzed twice before it was answered.

Hello? Dr. Norton here, said Ben Norton with a Southern accent.

It always sounded like a North Carolina accent to Steve.

Hi, Dr. Norton. It’s Steve Moore.

Hey there, Steve! It’s good to hear from you!

And Ben’s wrinkled face creased into a grin. Ben was about seventy, and he was planning to retire in about two years. He was a widower, and he lived in a large white Colonial with blue shudders. He was the former Department Chairperson of the History department.

I hope I’m not interrupting anything?

Naw! I was just finishin’ this article on the computer for the History Chronicles!

Oh, okay. I won’t keep ya, sir. Sidney Crowne just gave me a call, and he told me that there was an opening for a full time position in the History department? inquired Steve.

Oh yeah! Professor Jenkins is finally retirin’—It’s about damn time! quipped Ben, and Steve chuckled, Yes Steve, it’s a nice position—Fifty thousand starting salary with benefits and paid vacations! You even get the old goat’s office!

Wow! That sounds like a good deal!

It sure is! I think you should apply! Use Sidney and myself for references! We’ll make certain you get in!

Okay, I’ll do it!

Wonderful! said Ben, grinning, Oh, Blanche is here, Steve! Did you wanna talk to her?

There was a brief pause. Steve froze temporarily, holding the cell phone in his right hand. Even though Steve and Blanche had remained good friends since college, he still remembered their brief affair as college students. How stupid of him! It only lasted for about two months, and it was over almost as soon as it began!

Yeah! Sure, Dr. Norton! Why not? he replied, attempting to sound casual about the question.

Okay, just a minute, Steve.

A few minutes later, Blanche was on the line.

Hi Steve! You must be a night owl! piped Blanche.

She was a beautiful woman. Blanche was a lovely blonde 35-year-old divorcee. Blanche and her former husband had been living in San Diego, California, where Blanche had a successful law practice. When Jeffery Kaplan, her ex-husband, had an affair with a younger woman, Blanche left Jeff, and she moved back to Pine Valley, New York, to be closer to her father. However, she did not return to Pine Valley by herself . . .

I’m not really a night owl. I just got home later that expected, and I’ve been on the phone all night.

Oh. Dad, Abraham and I are having dinner at his place tonight, explained Blanche.

Good. How old is Abey now?

He’s three. Abey is the only positive outcome of my five-year nightmare with Jeff. I also have a chance to keep an eye on Dad.

Steve chuckled.

That’s cool. Listen, I was tellin’ your Dad that I might be movin’ back to Pine Valley. I’m gonna apply for that opening in the History department.

Terrific! I think that’s a super idea! exclaimed a grinning Blanche.

Me, too. Listen, do you still practice law in Pine Valley? asked Steve, beginning to frown.

Of course! Did you need some legal assistance?

Yeah. It has to do with an incident in Pine Valley, or a chain of incidents which occurred there about thirty years ago, resulting in homicide.

There was an immediate silence.

The smile suddenly disappeared from Blanche’s beautiful, ivory face. Her clear blue eyes were suddenly clouded with apprehension.

Well, of course I’ll meet with you, Steve, she stuttered, Give me a call tomorrow!

I will. So long, Blanche!

Bye, Steve.

They both hung up.

CHAPTER TWO

Steve did not get much sleep that evening. He was tossing and turning in his bed that evening. So many thoughts and memories of Northern University filled his mind that Steve could not become relaxed enough to fall asleep! He remembered the ringing chimes in the clock tower, the tall, majestic brick buildings on main campus, the torrent of students going to or from their classes on main campus and the constant stream of students who would frequent Lincoln Library. Steve had not visited the Omega Delta Chi fraternity house since Homecoming Weekend the previous year.

Steve decided that if he received the teaching position at Northern University, he would definitely try to spend a lot more time at the fraternity. Steve was finally lulled to sleep thinking about his years at the Omega Delta Chi House—The chapter meetings, the Mixers with sororities, serenading sororities, hayrides, cocktail parties, pinning circles—Soon, Steve was fast asleep, dreaming about the good old days.

Dr. Karen Henderson, the Department Chairperson for the History Department at Northern University, sat behind her tall desk, looking up information on her desktop computer. Karen was 48-years-old, and she was at the peak of her career. She had been the Department Chairperson for almost two years now. Karen was the first female chairperson that the History department had ever had. Karen was quite proud of her accomplishments, and she had worked very hard to reach this point. Like the other administrators, Karen had moved her way up the ladder of academic success, starting out as an associate professor seventeen years ago.

Her intercom buzzed.

Yes, Betty, said Karen to her secretary.

I have a call for you from Dr. Hines, ma’am.

Yes, put him through, Betty, sighed Karen.

Yes, ma’am.

Betty clicked Calvin through to Karen.

Good morning, Karen, boomed Dr. Calvin Hines, the President of Northern University, How are you doing today?

Hello, sir. I’m fine, and you?

Fine, Karen. Listen, Karen, I got a call last night at home from Nelson Dumont. He was very upset, said Calvin, beginning to frown.

Now Karen’s face was also starting to crease into a frown.

Oh? What seems to be the problem?

Professor Sidney Crowne. It seems that he has been harassing Nelson and his family. I reassured Nelson that you would take care of this, problem . . .

There was a temporary pause.

Karen gave a loud sigh, and she rolled her eyes. She knew exactly what Calvin meant. He wanted her to put out another fire. That was part of her job. Karen knew the routine quite well.

Yes, Calvin, well I can talk to Sidney this morning.

Good. DO you think that he will end his harassment? inquired Calvin, his eyebrows raised.

Well, sir, I have Sidney’s file in front of me . . . said Karen, observing Sidney’s file, And I see that he never received his PhD . . . And Calvin began to grin, I think that either he will co-operate, or his tenure proposal might be rejected . . .

Good. I’m glad to see that you are a team player, Karen. After all, our Dean of Students might be leaving to accept a position as a Provost of Unity College in the fall, and I’d love to be able to recommend you for that position, Karen.

I hope that you decide to do so, sir.

Well, there is a strong possibility that I will. I have a meeting at nine, so I have to go, Karen. Please E-mail me later on today, and let me know how your conversation with Sidney went.

I will, sir. So long.

So long.

They both clicked off.

Karen gave a frustrated sigh, and she rubbed her forehead. There was a knocking at her door.

Come in, sighed Karen.

Betty opened the door, and she stepped inside of Karen’s office.

Ma’am, Dr. Ben Norton wishes to see you.

Great, said Karen, and she rolled her eyes, Send him in please, Betty.

Yes, ma’am.

Karen was an attractive woman. She was tall and slender with short red hair. She had sharp green eyes. They were also mysterious and somewhat elusive.

Ben entered Karen’s spacious office with Betty. Then Betty exited the office, closing the door shut behind her.

Hello, Ben, sighed Karen, And what can I do for you?

Mornin’, said Ben, impatiently, walking toward her, Boy do I have some good news for you!

Ben was carrying a folder under his arm, and he was carrying his briefcase in his right hand.

Well, I certainly could use some good news!

Karen, I have the perfect person for that full time History teachin’ position, said Ben, and he placed the folder on her desk, Dr. Stephen Moore! He has teaching experience and his dissertation was excellent!

There was a brief pause as Karen looked over Steve’s resume and transcripts.

Well, he has some teaching experience at the community college level, but I do have applicants with more experience . . .

But they would want you to pay them a lot more than what you’re offerin’, and Steve has published!

Another pause.

Karen began to frown up at Ben.

Isn’t Dr. Moore a friend of Professor Crowne?

Yes . . . Why? asked Ben, beginning to frown.

Well, Ben, I’d love to interview Dr. Moore, but you know, we’ve been having some problems with Sidney . . .

What kind of problems? asked Ben, and he sat down in one of the three chairs on the opposite side of Karen’s desk.

Sidney has been bothering the Dumont family, explained Karen, He’s been researching local history of Pine Valley County. Dr. Hines wants Sidney to end his investigation . . .

And if I talk to Sidney, you’ll interview Steve, right?

Yes, said Karen bluntly, And Dr. Moore might find himself as a part of our excellent faculty if Sidney ended his research . . .

Ben hated doing this. He often hated the politics. Academic life on a Big Ten university like Northern could be very cutthroat.

Okay Karen, you’ve got yourself a deal!

They shook hands.

Thank you, Ben, for your cooperation, said a beaming Karen, We’ve had our share of disagreements over the years, so I’m glad we’re in agreement concerning this matter.

I’m sure that you are, Karen, chimed Ben, and they gave each other a sharp glance, You know, Sidney’s asked to meet with me . . .

About what? asked Karen.

The frown was creeping onto her face once again. The mild lines on her face were folding into frowns.

A devious grin entered Ben’s wrinkled face. There was a sparkle in his bright blue eyes.

You know damn well what Sidney wants to talk to me about—The Dumont family. He claims that he’s found some pretty fascinatin’ stuff!

There was a brief pause.

Karen felt the pressure beginning to rise inside of her once again, but she maintained a calm exterior.

All I know is that Dr. Hines and Mr. Dumont are relying on you, and in a way, I suppose Dr. Moore is, too . . ."

Ben and Karen watched each other carefully. They knew exactly what the other person was saying.

There was a biting silence.

Ben abruptly stood up, and he gave Karen an amiable smile.

Well, Karen, if you’ll excuse me, I have a ten o’clock class in European History for this fall to prepare for.

And Karen stood up.

Of course, Ben! I’ll see you later.

Yes indeed. Bye now! piped Ben, and he scurried out of her office.

Steve entered his small, boxy office on Hunt Community College’s campus. He was carrying his briefcase in his left hand, as Steve was himself left-handed. He slowly sat down in his black leather chair, and then he set his brown briefcase on his desktop. Steve proceeded to sit back in his chair, and he gave a loud sigh. Steve rubbed his forehead. He had done research, taught two classes, and he gave a lecture presentation on the Underground Railroad. Steve was exhausted!

Then his telephone buzzed.

Steve picked up the receiver. He still had to grade papers on World War II and Nazi Germany.

Hello? Steve Moore here.

Hello, Dr. Moore. This is Dr. Karen Henderson, Department of History Chairperson at Northern University.

Oh, hello, Dr. Henderson! boomed Steve with more enthusiasm, and he sat up in his chair.

I hope I’m not interrupting. I know how busy you are-

Oh, no, Dr. Henderson. I was just getting ready to grade some papers.

Oh, alright. First of all, I enjoyed talking to you last week on your phone interview. You have some excellent credentials . . .

Thank you very much, ma’am.

And secondly, I would like to offer you a position as a full time associate professor in our History Department.

There was a brief pause.

Steve smiled.

Yes, Dr. Henderson! I accept the offer!

Karen gave a relieved smile.

Great! We can either send you the contract by mail, or you can come to Pine Valley to sign it.

I’ll come over there. I’ll be there on Thursday. That’s two days from today, piped Steve.

Terrific, Dr. Moore. Call us as soon as everything is finalized, said Karen.

I’ll call you tomorrow morning.

That’ll be fine. Bye, Dr. Moore, and congratulations!

Bye, and thank you, said Steve.

They both hung up.

Steve began to smile to himself. Memories of his seven years in Pine Valley began to enter his mind. He had blocked out all of the activity of students going to and from their classes in the hallway. Now that Steve was certain that he would be teaching at Northern University, and he would be moving to Pine Valley, he decided to call his two best friends and fraternity brothers, Chance and Manuel.

Steve called Manuel first.

Manuel had just recently returned to his office. He had been in court that entire morning! His office was located in Bayton County, the neighboring county to Pine Valley County. Manuel had a fairly large office. The walls were painted a sky blue color. Portraits hung from the walls. His desk sat at the head of his office. There was an American flag behind his tall desk that was made of Chippendale, and he sat in the erect desk chair that was made of black leather. An enormous bay window sat behind his desk. On the left wall hung Manuel’s bachelor’s degree from Northern University. His law school degree from Harvard University hung on the right side of his desk. His fraternity paddle was hanging upon the wall beside his college diplomas.

There was a pale blue couch that was made of silk, located on the opposite side of his office. Two cobalt blue armchairs sat on either side of the couch. On the right side of Manuel’s desk were two tall bookcases. They were bulging with law books and journals.

There was a computer and a FAX machine sitting beside his desk. Manuel also had a miniature stereo system set up in his office, as well as a fully stocked miniature bar.

Manuel had always been quite intelligent, but he was also very fun loving, and he had frequently been accused of not taking life more seriously than others felt that he should. Manuel had done undeniably well for himself. There was no doubt about that fact. His unorthodox approach to life actually aided Manuel in his professional success.

Manuel left his office, and then he entered it again, talking to his investigator on his cellular phone.

Okay, Phil, said Manuel, sifting through his mail, I need that info on Kramer Construction by tomorrow! We go to trial on Monday mornin’!

You’ll have it, Manuel, said Phil.

Great! And did you trail Mrs. Morgan today?

Yes I did, sir! She went to Lender’s place, like we suspected. So she had an alibi, unless we can prove that Lender wasn’t there the night Mr. Morgan was killed!

Damn! Well, I’ll talk to Lender. You keep trailin’ Mrs. Morgan. I’ll check in with you later on!

Okay, man. Later.

Peace, said Manuel, and they clicked off.

Manuel gave a loud sigh, and he walked briskly over to his desk. He sat down in the leather chair, and he began to check the computer for any E-mail messages. About five minutes later, his cellular phone buzzed.

Great, sighed Manuel, and he picked up his cell phone, and clicked it on, Hello, Manuel Duncan, defense attorney, here.

Hey man! It’s Steve! Steve Moore!

Manuel looked up, and he instantly smiled.

Hey Steve! Great to hear from you, man! How you be?

Steve laughed.

I be cool, and you?

I’m okay. So I hear your latest novel passed the million-seller mark?

Yeah, Manny. Last week. Sure is a good feelin’, man.

Damn straight! We’re all proud o’ you, and I read your book, and I liked it! You really had me fooled, all the way up to that last chapter!

Good! I’m glad you liked it! said a grinning Steve.

So does this phone call mean that you’re finally gonna visit me, professor? asked Manuel, reclining in his chair.

In a way . . . Listen, man, I just accepted a full time position as an associate professor o’ History at Northern!

Hey man! That’s great! Congratulations, homeslice!

A broad grin entered Manuel’s face.

Thanks, Manny! I’m planning to be in Pine Valley on Thursday to look for a place to stay!

Well, you’re welcome to stay with me till you find your own pad!

Thanks, man! I’ll give you a ring when everything’s final!

Cool, boomed Manuel, I’ll be lookin’ forward to it!

And the two young men hung up.

Then Steve dialed another telephone number on his cellular phone. It was answered after the first buzz.

Hello, Chance Chautard speaking.

At this moment, Chance was zooming along the infamous New York freeway. He was sandwiched between vehicles on all sides. His black Jaguar charged on. Music by the Stylistics played on the automobile’s miniature stereo system.

Hello, Brother Chautard! This is Brother Moore! What’s up?

And Chance began to smile.

Even though Chance was immaculately dressed—He was wearing a black pinstriped suit, a sky blue button-down shirt, and a multi-color necktie—His pale blue eyes were reddened and his beard was growing—it was salt and pepper.

Chance was exhausted! He and his wife Antoinette had stayed up all night the evening before, taking care of their three-year-old son Darcy. The small boy had a bad allergy! He had finally fallen asleep around three-thirty in the morning. Since Antoinette was pregnant and needed her rest, Chance had offered to stay with Darcy.

Steve! What’s up, man?

Well, I just called to give you some good news!

I’m all ears, man. I stayed up late with Darcy all night. He inherited my allergies. I could use some good news!

Wow! So how’s Darcy doing, man?

After all, Darcy was Steve’s godson. He was very proud when Chance and Antoinette asked him to be their child’s godfather.

He’s a lot better. He’ll be okay. Now what the hell is this news?

I’m gonna be teachin’ History at Northern University this fall! I’ll be in Pine Valley this weekend to look for a place to stay!

What?! That’s great, Steve! Congratulations! boomed a smiling Chance.

Thanks, man! Listen, I’ll be stayin’ with Manuel, so we’ll all hafta go out this weekend!

For sure, my brother!

Oh, and Chance, I was hoping to talk to you this weekend, about your cousins, the Dumont family, said Steve, the smile beginning to evaporate from his face.

Chance was no longer smiling, either.

I thought you would. Nelson called me as soon as I got to my office this mornin’. He’s really pissed about some research that Sidney Crowne is doin’.

That’s what I wanna talk to you about.

Sure, man. Give me a call when you get here, Steve.

I will. Later, Chance.

Peace, said Chance.

They both clicked off their cellular phones.

Steve turned around in his chair, and he faced his computer. He began researching for information.

CHAPTER THREE

Sidney Crowne was sitting in his cluttered, boxy office, in front of his computer. He had been working at his computer for about five hours that day. This was easy for Sidney to do. After all, Sidney enjoyed his work, and he did not have a wife or children to occupy his time. A small desk lamp was the only light in his office.

There was a knocking at his door.

Who is it? snapped Sidney.

It’s Dr. Norton, he called, from the other side of the closed door.

Come in! Close the door behind you!

And Ben entered Sidney’s office.

He closed the door shut behind him. He looked around the room, and he gave Sidney a half grin.

Nice place you got here, commented Ben.

Very funny . . . Thanks for answering my E-mail.

I always have . . .

And Sidney reluctantly stopped operating the computer. He turned around in his swivel chair to face Ben.

Sit down.

Ben looked at the piles of papers on the two chairs in the opposite side of Sidney’s desk.

Where?

Sidney leaped to his feet. He hurriedly moved a pile of papers to a nearby table.

Oh, you do have a point! Now, please sit down . . .

Thank you.

Ben sat down.

Sidney moved back over to his chair, and he sat down.

I have some information for you, said Sidney in a hushed voice, But you can’t show it to anyone else, except Dr. Steve Moore. Do we have a deal?

There was a temporary silence.

Ben was frowning across the cluttered desk at Sidney. Many thoughts were racing through his mind. Ben also remembered what he had promised to Karen.

Okay, I’ll keep your secret, Sidney.

Great! Thanks, continued Sidney, I’ve been doing research all day since I don’t teach again till the fall. I wanted to show you some of the results that I printed out . . .

Sidney gave Ben a manila folder.

Ben’s frown was deepening with every minute that passed. He began to read through the information that Sidney had given to him.

He looked back up at Sidney. Sidney could detect a glimpse of fear in his blue eyes.

Are you gonna show this information to Steve? inquired Ben.

Yes, as soon as I can meet with him later on this week!

And Ben gave the folder back to Sidney.

You better hide this!

It will be hidden in the same place it’s always been kept, replied Sidney, I assure you, nobody will be able to find it.

Good . . . Now Sidney, Karen asked me to talk to you-

Save your breath, said Sidney with an upraised hand, You’re wasting your time if you’re gonna ask me to end my investigation. This is gonna be a best seller!

Ben gave a loud sigh.

Sidney, the Dumont family doesn’t play! They’re one o’ the most powerful families in this state!

Well, if I dealt in the sale of illegal material which was overpriced, I’d be wealthy, too!

Sidney, do you have any idea of the danger that you’re in?

I can handle it. It’s worth it, Ben!

Is it worth your life? asked Ben bluntly.

There was a pause.

Ben was hoping that Sidney would at this moment reconsider his decision.

Ben, I never start anything I don’t plan to finish. I have to finish this book. The mystery has to be solved.

Nelson and Victoria Dumont will not let you finish that book, said Ben sternly.

They’ll have to kill me first!

They will! They have the underworld connections to pull it off, too! snapped Ben.

Ben was now extremely concerned for Sidney’s safety!

I’ll have to take that risk!

Ben slowly stood up.

Well, I wish you luck! And you don’t have to worry. I won’t tell anyone, except Steve.

Thanks a lot, Ben. So long.

See ya, Sidney.

And Ben left Sidney’s office.

Sidney returned to his work.

Steve had spent the next few days packing up his belongings at his apartment. Steve figured that he would leave for Pine Valley in the morning, then return to New York City and finish packing. Then he would move his belongings into his new home.

It was a Thursday afternoon, and Steve was driving his BMW toward Pine