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Too Many Secrets
Too Many Secrets
Too Many Secrets
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Too Many Secrets

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"A friendship forged under a cloud of deceit, turns into a nightmare from hell! One friend was incarcerated, another friend was stabbed; leaving another friend and the courts, trying to figure out the truth behind it all!

I heard the noise again, so I turned my head to see where the sounds were coming from.
But my desire to solve that problem became infinitesimal to the figure standing in my bedroom doorway! I begin to panic and I tried to shout, but nothing came out. So, I turned my head away then back toward the door, but my attempt to fool myself was quickly put down; once my eyes came into focus, and the figure was still standing in my doorway!

""In a place where truth hides its face and finding it is part of the race. Those that think they
know the truth; will tell, but those that know the truth; are lying!""
LanguageEnglish
PublisherXlibris US
Release dateJun 16, 2006
ISBN9781465324061
Too Many Secrets
Author

Edwin J. Gentry

Edwin J. Gentry is a retired sergeant from the United States Army. He graduated from Harold Washington Community College in Chicago, Illinois majoring in criminology (AA Degree). Currently, he resides in Chicago, where he is continuing his education at DePaul University majoring in Peace, Justice, and Conflict Studies (PAX). Other works by the author include a novel titled Too Many Secrets (2006).

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    Book preview

    Too Many Secrets - Edwin J. Gentry

    Copyright © 2006 by Edwin J. Gentry.

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

    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 any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

    This book was printed in the United States of America.

    To order additional copies of this book, contact:

    Xlibris Corporation

    1-888-795-4274

    www.Xlibris.com

    Orders@Xlibris.com

    34099

    Contents

    INTRODUCTION

    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

    This book is dedicated to:

    Deonte Crawley; a friend, the wrongfully convicted and the innocent forced into plea bargains. And all court officers and law enforcement agents, taking a stance against corruption.

    INTRODUCTION

    Reflective of a true story, I wrote "Too Many Secrets" hoping to focus attention on a sad situation happening all over the country within our Criminal Justice System. Unlike most stories that go unnoticed; I had to bring this one to life!

    Too Many Secrets reflects everything that is wrong with a criminal justice system, in which deals are trading; not in the name of justice, but with the goal to further careers at the expense of the damned, and the innocent.

    The gatekeepers of our criminal justice system have fallen pray to greed, politics, and racism. On the bench, in the courts, and on the streets; these are the places where integrity should reign. Instead, they have been besieged by an unspeakable enemy—corruption; forged by friendships.

     . . . Whom can we trust, once the gatekeepers have fallen?

    Edwin J. Gentry

    CHAPTER 1

    The Person In My Doorway

    Then, I heard the noise again, so I turned my head to see where the sounds were coming from. But my desire to solve that problem, became infinitesimal to the figure standing in my bedroom doorway!

    For the last eight hours, I’ve listened to the riddling and sliding of paper bags down the food table. It was blazing hot and customers seen to keep coming into the store ordering food.

    Thank you for dining with us today, may I take your order please? That was the standard greeting for all guests. The driver replied as she ordered at the speaker.

    Sorry, I would like to order a big burger combo meal with no mustard please.

    From taking orders, to I’m running out of change, I wanted to leave this place, but like a polar bear waiting for a fish to swim up the waterfall, I waited patiently for my relief manager to arrive before abandoning the ship.

    Does that complete your order, I responded? I was forced to work the Drive-Thru window for a second, while my cashier went to the restroom.

    Yes, the driver said. She drove up to the pick-up window.

    Pretty much, order taking and dealing with customer issues has been my routine all day long. And to make matters worst, another one of my cashiers called off today and we had a mess on our hands, dealing with our daily summer rush of customers. The driver finally pulls up to the window. I opened it to give her the total, but her face was glued to the back seat of the car, and I didn’t think she heard me so I repeated the total.

    That total was $4.18, would you like a receipt with that, I asked? Finally, she turns to face me and it wasn’t a pretty sight.

    I heard you the first time, she replied, and no, I don’t need a receipt! She hand’s me the money with an attitude, but I just keep a smile on my face like company policies required.

    I wanted to tell her off, but I keep my emotions to myself. Slowly, I closed the window while she continued to do what she was doing. She didn’t looked like she had it all together up stairs any! I walked over to the food prep-area to get her food and then, I heard a knocking on the window. I wanted to ask, What the hell is your problem now—I keep silent.

    Is everything ok, I asked, still displaying my company required smile in the face of stupidity?

    No, she said, I would like to change my order. Now I thought to myself, This lady is not going to work my last nerve before I get off today!

    What would you like to change, I asked?

    From experience, I knew it was going to be something on her burger, it always is at a place like this. For some reason, I could never figure out, why people wait in line to order food, and still have problems making up there minds as to what they want to eat! And when you don’t understand their issues, they look at you like you’re crazy. Or like most customers that can’t figure out what they want to eat, they’ll get an attitude with you and say, That’s why you’re working here.

    She looked at me and said, I would like to have no mayo on my sandwich, instead of no mustard.

    I told her it wasn’t going to be a problem and kindly asked her to wait one moment. As I closed the window with a smile on my face, I walk over to the table to tell the sandwich maker’s the bad news.

    Don’t tell me she is changing her order, shouted one of the sandwich makers.

    Yes, she did, she wants no mayo instead of no mustard, I replied. The crew was quit upset, because they had to remake the order.

    Chill out, I said, as I tried to calm the seas. Let’s just get the order out.

    They remade the order with such reluctance and it took a bit longer for her to get it. Then, another problem came my way, but this time it was at the front window.

    Maximum, I need your keys, the cashier asked? She was having problems with her computer!

    One moment please, I replied.

    Finally, they finished making the food and I took it back to the window, I wanted this lady gone! She was not going to have me read her today! So, I opened the window and gave her the order.

    Here’s your order, I said.

    May I please have some ketchup, she asked. Thinking to myself, I said, Is this lady trying to make me give her all of me?

    I reached out to give her the additional three packs of ketchup she requested and then she asked for two more. I gave her the two packets and closed the window. I though she was never going to leave, so I forced her to! Now it was time to go deal with the situation at the other window.

    What’s going on, I asked the cashier?

    She stated that the register was acting up again, so I had to play around with it for a minute before I got it to working. But it still wouldn’t print out a receipt, which the customer wanted. After playing around with the register for another two seconds, I got it working.

    I walked over to my office space at the rear of the restaurant. It wasn’t must, but it was enough space to conduct business. While standing by the desk, I noticed it was almost time for my relief manager to arrive. So, to make sure it was a smooth transition, I whipped the team into fast gear.

    Let’s get this house in order before Sharon comes, I said. Some times, I would refer to the store as The House.

    As the crew began cleaning up for the next shift, I started gathering my paper work together. Meanwhile, I heard a click—which was a nice sound, right about now. It was the sound of the back door opening. My relief manager had arrived.

    So, how was your day today, Sharon asked?

    I just looked at her, as if to say, ready to go! I explained to her my problems with the register at the front window and let her know about the cashiers that called off again.

    I was stuck with a crew full of slow people, I’m tired and it’s time to go, I said.

    I asked if she was ready to take over the ship and she replied; Ready or now, it’s my turn now. I just needed to put my stuff in the back, she said. She walked toward the back restroom to put her things away and I started packing my stuff up to leave. During which time, another cashier asked if she could get some change. I happily gave her the change as my last act of working for the day.

    Do you need any thing before I leave, I asked Sharon? She informed me that everything was ok and she just wanted a vacation. I understood her very desire, because I was waiting on mine as well.

    I started gathering my things as I put up the paperwork and closed my registers out. Then, I grabbed my coat and my backpack and told them goodnight. Once outside, I walked to the corner, where I waited for the stop lights to change. I took a moment to reflect on what time it was and I noticed it was 5:35pm. It felt great to be out of that restaurant and I couldn’t wait to get home, so I could take a bath to remove this hamburger smell off my body.

    The lights changed and I began my journey to the Palace, that’s what I called my apartment. As I got across the street, I heard someone calling my name. I turned to see who was calling me and it was my little friend La-Monty, so I stop to give him a chance to catch up to me.

    What-up Max, La-Monty asked? Where are you on your way too?"

    I told him, I was on my way home and that I just got off work and I was tired ass hell! He wanted to know if I had gone out to partying lately or if I wanted to go out with him tonight, but I told him I been working all day and was tired.

    I’ve been tided up also, he said. I’m on my way home as well, I guess I’ll ride the train with you, La-Monty replied.

    La-Monty and I walked toward the train station, which was about two blocks away from the store. He was one of the many people I really trusted. And although he has had his share of problems, he was pretty responsible for an 18 years old. From time to time, I would help him out with a few things here and there.

    Finally, we made it to the train station by Addison street. As we were about to go into the station, a crowd of people started coming out of it. One person in particular getting off the train was an employee that was late for work name Tory.

    Hello Maximum, said Tory. I give her a grimacing look, returned her greeting, and asked if she was on her way to work?

    Yes, she replied.

    I warned her that Sharon was there and she was going to have a ruff night as a result of the other cashier calling off. But she looked away smartly and said, I’ll see you tomorrow boss man.

    At that point, La-Monty and I went through the train’s turnstile to go onto the L platform. We waited for about 10 minutes before the train arrived. Once at the station, we got on it and took our seat. With nothing else to say, we just looked out the windows as stop-after-stop, passed us by. I knew it was going to be a long ride home, but it didn’t really matter, because I was tired and ready to go to sleep once I got there. My face felt so oily from being around the grill and I smelt like hamburgers. All that grease can do a number on your face; if you know what I mean!

    Thirty-fifth Street will be the next stop, shouted the train conductor. That meant it was time for La-Monty to get off the train. As his stop got near, he got up and walked toward the door.

    Have you seen Simone, he asked, as he stood waiting for the train to come to a stop? I told him it’s been a moment since I’ve seen her. And the last I heard, she moved out of town to escape the drama.

    The train started to slow down as it pulled into the station. Finally, the doors opened and La-Monty got off. As the doors started to close, he shouts, I’ll call you later. A couple of stops left and I’ll be almost home. I still needed to take a bus over east. Most of the time, getting from 79th and State street took a long time, so I would just start walking until I notice a bus approaching.

    Finally, I started gathering my stuff to get off the train when all of a sudden, this lady runs past me in a rush for the door. I thought she had a problem since we were the only two still on that car.

    I hope this bus is on time, she said. I just look at her with a kind smile and looked away. I notice she was wearing a coat as hot as it was outside. But my attempts to ignore her failed, as she begin to strike up another conversation.

    Do you smell hamburgers, she asked? I paused before answering her hoping my answer would not encourage the conversation. So, I replied saying, No, I don’t smell any hamburgers, but that didn’t discourage her from talking. She went on about how she hasn’t eating anything all-day and a hamburger would hit the spot.

    At that point, I knew she was on the train panhandling for money. Finally, I arrived at the 79th Street train station and as the doors opened, a mad rush of people took off running toward the exit. I had no ideal why they were running or what they were running from, so I took off running with them—just in case.

    What happened on the train, I asked the guy running next to me? He looked at me and replied; Nothing, the bus going west on 79th just pulled up and they were trying to catch it. At which time, I stop running and walked toward the terminal exit.

    Walking out the station, I realized how crowded the buses were going to be. Although the others were running for the other buses going west, my bus going east still hadn’t come and there was a crowd waiting to board like me. I whispered to myself, Damn, I do not feel like getting on this bus, especially with all those people on it!

    The bus pulls up and the doors opened. As usual, the front door of the bus didn’t stop on me, so I had to wait to get on the bus. People were pushing and giving each other dirty looks. I just stood there and waited. Finally, it was my turn to board the bus, but before I got on, I could feel the immense heat coming out of it, and it was funky!

    Move to the back of the bus please, requested the driver.

    I though for a moment he was trying to get jazzy with me, since I was standing in front of him. So, to avoid problems, I decided to move toward the back. I glared over the tops of riders heads, before making my way toward the back, and I was hoping not to run into any attitudes along the way!

    Excuse me, may I get by you, I kindly ask this lady in front of me? She looked at me as if I was crazy, then she moves forward, and lets me go on by. As I made it to the center of the bus, I notice that a whole roll of back seats was not taking. I thought maybe something was wrong with them.

    Excuse me, may I get by, I asked another person blocking my path? He to just moved out the way and gave me a nasty look, but I finally made it to the back door of the bus, which was closer to where I wanted to sit down.

    It’s hotter back here, said one of the passengers.

    I needed to choose between the two evils: tired legs or a hot booty? So, I asked politely, if I could squeeze by to get to one of the seats in the back of the bus. Some of the people were nice about it, but others had an attitude. They acted like the entire roll of seats belongs to them.

    Finally, I made it to the back and there they where, five of the hottest seats on the whole bus, but that didn’t matter because I was tired, and going to sit in one of them. As I took my seat, my ass felt like it was on fire!

    Damn-it, I jumped up for a minute. I though to myself saying, No wonder everybody was standing up back here; these seats are hot as hell! I eased my butt down anyway. It was like trying to get use to the chill in a cold pool for the first time. Once you got use to it, swimming was a breeze. In this case, I rather deal with the hot ass, than my feet; which were killing me from standing up ten hours at work—the bus made its way toward my stop.

    79th and Cottage Grove, next stop, announced the bus driver.

    It was time for me to make my way toward the back door. I asked the gentleman near the window, to ring the bell for me. As the bus finally pulls up to the stop, I pushed the doors open and got off.

    I started walking toward the house, but on my way, I saw a guy with this big ass dog. The dog was running around wild, so I though to myself, If this dog comes after me, I’m going to shit a brick". The dog’s head was very fat and it had teeth like a shark, and I didn’t feel like getting bit by him today. So, I walked toward it and didn’t pay any attention to him. A few minute later, another dog comes running through a gang-way and that’s when I stop to examining the situation, to see what my option were. Lucky for me, the dogs took off running in another direction after each other, with the guy in pursuit.

    Finally relieved from the terror of being biting, I made it to the corner of my block and guess who I saw sitting in the front yard; no other them Mrs. Washington, the building’s superintendent, with her drinks in her hand. One thing for certain, you can always find her with a drink in her hand.

    I approached the building hopping to go through the court-way without her seeing me, so I started walking slower. She couldn’t see me because her back was turned toward me, but as I made it to the end of the gateway, she turns around and makes eye contact.

    Dang, I said, now she’s going to want to talk and I really didn’t feel it." With her glass up to her mouth and a drunking smile on her face, she made an attempt to speak to me.

    Hey baby, she said, what’ch you been up to? She looked neighborhood fabulous with whiskey falling from her mouth and a thick line of slob; yuck, I cringed at the nastiness rolling out of her mouth.

    I been doing ok, I just got home from work, I said, as I continued to walk away because I really didn’t feel her this evening.

    When are you going to bring me some of that food from your job, she asked? I just looked back and told her the same thing I always tell her, I’ll bring it tomorrow.

    Ok baby, she said. Ah yah, your friend came over looking for you. I let him in to put a note on the mail box.

    I told her thanks, although I wasn’t happy with what she’d done. Once at the building’s door, I started fidgeting for my house keys. I looked through my pockets like a maniac and still they were elusive. Finally, I remember they where in my back pocket. Once in the hallway and the door closed behind me, it felt like the South Pole standing there. I though it was because the air conditioner was on, but the building didn’t have one.

    I open the second door to go upstairs to the apartment, but I quickly turned around as I remembered Mrs. Washington stating that someone left a note for me. I took a second to walked back to the mailbox, where I saw a note of some sort sticking out of it. I grabbed it and began reading it: Maximum, I might come over tonight it read. The letter was a message from my friend name Till. I thought to myself, What did he want, he’s not supposed to be over here, after what he did.

    Once upon a time, we were roommates when I lived at another apartment. I took him in as a guest to help him out. At the time, it appeared to be a great ideal; as far as having someone helping with the bills, and he was ready to leave home. He stayed with his so-called, evil mother-in-law; according to him.

    So, while ice-skating one day, he asked if I wanted to have a roommate. We talked about the arrangements over a hot cup of hot chocolate in the field house at the skating rink. After all, I thought it would be fun having one again; a roommate. He was eighteen years old and looking for a roommate himself. I saw it as a chance to help someone out and an opportunity to reduce some of my bills, by charging him fifth dollars a month. I didn’t want him living with me forever, so I didn’t take all of his money. Finally, we agreed and a week later, I had a new roommate.

    Two weeks after he moved in, I find out that he was really sixteen-year-old, going on seventeen, and had run away from home. I thought to myself; What have I gotten myself into. So, one day I decided to have a talk with him about the matter, once he came home from work.

    Till, how can you do this to me man, I asked. He just stood there looking puzzled, at the time, I hadn’t revealed to him that I knew what his was up too. Why would you get me mixed up in your shit, I asked?

    Max, what are you talking about, he asked?

    Somebody told me that you ran away from home, I said, and that you are sixteen and not eighteen! It was as if time stopped on him. He paused for a moment before trying to explain himself.

    I’m sorry, he said. I wasn’t trying to get you involved in my stuff. Anyway, I haven’t stay with those people for months now; they don’t give a fuck about me. So, I was left out in the cold to take care of myself, he replied.

    Sometimes, you have to think things over before you make a move, which might endanger other people. I don’t want any problem as a result of this situation, I said.

    As I went on and on about being responsible, he became more and more sadden by his situation. He started to cry, as his eyes found a spot on the ceiling, watching the fan go around and around. I knew I had to do something about the situation.

    Well, this is what I’ll do, I said to Till. We need to call your father and step-mother to let them know where you are staying. And if your father says it’s ok for you to stay here, I’ll let you stay. Does that sound like a plan, I asked? He looks at me with an uncertain smile.

    What if he says no, Till asked? Either way, I’m not going to live with them, so what shall I say to them?

    I gave him a few pointers and finally, he became my roommate. His father let him stay with me and he brought all of his stuff to the apartment. He told me that he would come back to get Till in three months once he got some things together—three months later, his father came to get him.

    His dad didn’t even come up stairs to say thanks or nothing. I though that was strange, so I asked Till about it after he came back inside the apartment. Till stated that his pap’s told him to just get his bags, because he had to be back at work in about two hours. So, I paid no attention to the rudeness and that was that!

    Anyway, I started on my way up to the third floor and that wasn’t a climb I wanted to make, after a long day at work standing. Once I made it to the top, I started feeling around for the keys again in my dark hallway.

    Elated after finally arriving in the house, I sat in my chair by the front door for about two minutes. Once I gathered myself together, I left everything at the door and made a mad dash toward the bathroom—I couldn’t hold it anymore!

    After getting settled in, I started washing my face to clean all the grease out of it. As well, my body needed a washing also. Working in a fast-food restaurant over a hot grill can do a number on your skin. Usually, I would have to wash my face twice to get all the oil out!

    Before splashing the palm full of water on my face, I saw the caller ID box blinking from the bathroom. I dried my hands and walked over to the desk. I reached down to press the button on the box. As each number flashed on its display, I realized the calls could wait until I finished cleaning up, and I got a few hours of rest.

    I went to my bedroom, where I was forced to revisit the mess I left this morning while rushing out to work. I didn’t feel like dealing with it, so I just moved it off to the side on the floor. I had art supplies and other craft items on the bed. Earlier, I was doing a project using paper to put on my windows. It blocked out the sun light and allow me to sleep better on days when I came home during the morning hours from work.

    I jumped in the bed and moved around until I found my sleep position. But just as I made one more turn, I got stuck with an object. Damn it, I said. I reached down under the sheet and the tip of what I thought was a sewing needle, pricked me in the finger. I followed the point to its base and soon discovered it was an Ice-pick. So, I took the Ice pick, tape, and the paper, putting them all on the side of my mattress on the floor.

    This feels great, I thought while lying down. As I rolled around trying to find my spot on the mattress again, I thought how wonderful it felt having a cool breeze blowing over me while I slept. Finally, after a couple of minutes of tossing around, I drifted off into a good sleep.

    10:28pm, I started rolling around because it was so muggy in the room. At the same time, I heard what I believe was a noise. I didn’t know if I was awake or still in a deep sleep. After all, the window was up and my bedroom was by the alley and usually there was a lot of noise coming through from the outside.

    Suddenly, I felt a cold breeze of air, as if I just took a walk inside a freezer. I tried to move around, but found myself stuck in one place. I could only move my eye balls. At which time, I began to panic. What’s happening, I asked myself?

    Then, I heard the noise again, so I turned my head to see where the sounds were coming from. But my desire to solve that problem, became infinitesimal to the figure standing in my bedroom doorway!

    I begin to panic and I tried to shout, but nothing came out. Is this how I was going to leave the world, I asked, killed by someone who just broke in my house? Wait a minute fool, I said to myself; you might be still sleeping? So, I turned my head away and back toward the door, but my attempts to fool myself were quickly put down once my eye came into focus, and the figure was still standing in my doorway.

    Everything went racing through my mind. I couldn’t move, my body was frozen in time, and someone was in my house. Realizing that the figure was a real person, I just laid there in silence—not a sound came out of me. It was like I rigged myself for ultra quiet like Mariners sometimes do abound submarine ships.

    My god, what’s going on now? I didn’t know what to do, so I just laid there. Then, I notice the figure moving around out of view, before it came back to the room where I was located. It started walking toward me and I started to sweat, as my fears begin to build up in me.

    I turned away because I didn’t want to see it coming, but I felt the figure stops right in back of me, and it felt like a streamer of evil, generating from it. I knew I was in deep shit at that moment and was going to have to fight. I couldn’t move a bone in my body, nor did I breathe out loud—I didn’t want the person to notice me.

    Then, the figure kicked my pallet, which was on the floor. I didn’t know if it was deliberate or an accident, but I held my breath in an instant. I was not about to give any indication that I was awake or even in the apartment.

    So, I just stayed there and tried to wait it out. Then it happened, I felt the figure feeling over me, as if it was looking for my face. Then, it grabbed the covers from my face and I went into a panicky rage and became frozen with terror—I was scared stiff.

    I knew this was the moment of truth, but I couldn’t move, I was paralyzed from the neck down. I tried to jump up, but nothing was working. My mind had lost control of my body, so I just laid there motionless.

    I felt hot air on my neck and at that point, I knew I had to do something or I was going to be dead meat. I remembered the art supplies were next to the pallet, so I reached for something to throw at the person, and made plans to run for the door. So, in one quick motion, I reached over to where I put the art supplies and with a loud voice, I started shouting.

    NO, No, No, get away from me, I shouted, as I rolled toward the person.

    I grabbed at the figure, to push it away from me, but it kept coming towards me! Then, all of a sudden, it fell on top of me. A struggle began while tangled up in the sheets, but I got loose and ran toward the door. I looked back to see if it was pursuing me, but I saw the figure

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