Beverly Swift for President

By R Michael Purcell

Beverly Swift was a mega-rock star in the 1990s and amassed a fortune, a serious drug habit, and two miscarriages. Now she is in a coma, fighting for her life while her handlers try everything to keep her on the 2016 presidential race and find out what happened to her. At first, it appears to be an accident involving her estranged husband until they find evidence that Ted Swift was in Russia just days before the crash.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jul 30, 2018
• ISBN: 9781546250685

R Michael Purcell

Michael has written 11 novels and Beverly Swift is his fourth published book. He also published a collection of short stories titled Broken Heart, Broken Me in 2014. Recently he said, AuthorHouse published my first novel, Acappella Blue, and it is nice to be back with AH again. Michael lives in Washington, DC.

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Chapter

1

B everly waved at me as she slipped into the passenger seat, a determined, but diffident look on her face. As they backed down the driveway past me, I could see that Beverly was tense, subconsciously holding onto the seatbelt and trying not to look as scared on the outside as she was on the inside. She pulled her visor down to gauge how well she was doing. She looked at Ted, but did not say anything and I had the impression that she wanted to make sure she didn’t distract him. He went in the opposite direction from what she expected.

Where are you going, Ted?

He swerved recklessly to avoid another car and narrowly missed plowing into a second car across the street. He barely stopped at the next corner and jerked the car with a hard right.

Why are you driving so fast and so recklessly?

I’m worried … and scared. Don Olson and his ilk are after me and I’m afraid of what they’ll do if they find out I’m not overseas.

I think they already know that. Slow down or I’m getting out at the next corner.

No, don’t do that! he slowed down to observe the speed limit.

Why did you invite me to ride with you?

I wanted you to ride with me because I think … no, I know, you are in grave danger. Your whole third party campaign was kind of a hoax, something the IPC was ready to drop until you started gaining in the polls and it got serious, Ted said, watching the rear view mirror. That’s why I killed Wallace. The things he was talking about doing made me sick. Don Osborn is next, if it gets that far.

What do you mean if it gets that far? You mean if I get elected?

On the expressway, Ted studied the rearview mirror and unconsciously increased his speed. He had a pill bottle between his legs that he opened with one hand, extracted a small white pill and replaced the cap with a singular motion of his right hand.

Why are you so concerned with the rearview mirror? What did you just take?

Someone is following us and they are slowly gaining on us. I took my prescription for my ulcers.

It’s probably Darden. Is it a station wagon? Look at me.

Ted kept his face forward.

Look at me, Ted.

He turned toward her. His face was red and his eyes were glassy. He pressed the accelerator a little more. Beverly grabbed the pill bottle from between his legs. The bottle said Seconol and her name was typed across the top of the prescription label.

Seconol. Why are you taking this? You trying to kill yourself? This is not ulcer medicine.

It keeps me awake and alert, which I need to do right now.

Boy, Ted, you are really fucked up. she tossed the bottle into the backseat. What about the car following us?

Looks like a Town car or a Chrysler. A big, heavy car and he or she is really gaining on me. I don’t recognize the car.

He slowed almost to a crawl and the chase car fell in behind the big Mercedes.

Beverly shrugged. Where have you been?

South America. And Russia, most recently.

Why were you in Russia?

There are many investment banks working in Russia. There’s great interest in the United States over there.

Beverly rolled her eyes, I bet! So, talk to me. You invited me to ride with you, so talk to me.

Well, for starters, the IPC doesn’t want a woman in the White House and they have been grooming Alex to replace you. He was your designated running mate, kind of like an arranged marriage.

Ted started to laugh.

What are they planning to do?

Wallace talked about torture to get you to resign the race; some sort of accident, bribery; kidnapping you, the kids and your parents, drugs; all sorts of things, Ted said. Even blackmailing you from your rock ’n roll days.

Jesus Christ. I didn’t realize Wallace was such a scumbag. What about what happened at the hotel swimming pool the night before last?

I don’t know what you’re talking about. What happened?

Two Secret Service agents took Hailey and Harris to go swimming. The agents were murdered, but the kids weren’t harmed. That’s how they wound up in White Plains. The children went missing for awhile, but turned up at home. No one knows how they got there.

That sounds like something Don would set up to make it look like me. Hoping to flush me out. Don will charm you to death, literally. He just doesn’t brag about it or wear it on his sleeve, but he is damn good at it.

Did you arrange the car explosion at the warehouse in New Jersey?

No, but I knew it was going to happen. Don put that little skit together, too.

Who was the second body?

Ellen.

Ellen! Beverly shrieked. Why, how? Did she stop fucking you?

Yes, and a few others much more important and connected than me. You knew she was Wallace’s ex wife, didn’t you?

Beverly answered yes in a low, guttural voice as if she couldn’t get the words out.

Wallace encouraged her to ‘get more involved with the members of the Posse’ and the GG members. She was living very well, but there were complaints. She needed to be thirty years younger to keep the schedule she was keeping. Ted paused. When there are enough complaints about any member, Wallace and Don had a unique way of dealing with the situation. It’s a permanent solution. Ellen got in the car thinking I would be joining her.

Enough said.

Oh, shit! The car that was tailing us is gone.

Just then, the driver’s side of the Mercedes was slammed by the Town car that had been following them. Ted swerved off the road momentarily and then back on. It happened again and then a third time.

Oh, my God, he’s going to kill us both.

Make that a she!

Chapter

2

D arden Green stared through the ICU window, his arms folded into each other as he stroked his chin. He was staring at Beverly. A metal, birdcage-like framework was fitted to her skull with screws into Beverly Swift’s swollen head where her hair had been. Her eyes were puffy and bruised, the left one nearly closed shut. There were lacerations on her forehead, cheek and lips that had been carefully stitched to leave no scar.

Her brain algorithms were minimal, indicating activity far below normal or expectation. The respiration and heart monitor indicated she was still alive, a blip every few seconds indicating there was some level of electrical activity in her body. The only hope for her was that she was in good health and good shape physically. Darden crossed himself and thanked God that this had not happened five years ago. Back then, this scene would’ve been an autopsy table. A tear rolled down his cheek and his vision blurred as more tears welled up. He pinched his eyes closed for a moment.

The Secret Service arrived within thirty minutes, took over the ICU and camped out in the elevator lobby, the hospital lobby, the charge desk and stairwells. It was three ‘clock in the morning and Candice Underwood was barking orders like a drill sergeant. No one was interested in small talk or autographs. She burst through the double doors and marched up to Darden like she was going to bite his head off. She grabbed him around the shoulders in a bear hug.

You all right? Do you know what happened?

No, but I’m trying to find out. I do know that Beverly is alive and that is more than I can say for Ted. They were coming from White Plains, I dropped Beverly there after her speech in North Carolina because she was concerned about Hailey and Harris. Ted had been making threats again and, well, you know what happened to the Secret Service agents guarding the kids at the hotel pool. Next thing I know she’s telling me she’s going to ride back to New York with him. I got the phone call about one-thirty this morning.

Was he drunk?

He didn’t seem so. He was angry about something the way he stomped around the driveway, pouting and throwing his head back. You know how melodramatic he can be.

I’d forgotten, but yes, you’re right. Do you know where his body is?

Darden shook his head and sat down on a chair across from the Secret Service agents. The metal doors that separated ICU from the rest of the wing swung open again and a troubled looking doctor fingering his stethoscope walked up to Darden.

What the hell is going on here. This is a hospital, not a security convention. Who are all these people?

Candice looked askance at his name badge.

Candice Underwood, Dr. Ellis. Secret Service protecting candidate Swift and her family, sir, she said, turning over the badge that dangled from her neck. We weren’t sure what we would find here when we arrived and I admit it is a bit of overkill, but two to four agents will be here around the clock. The rest of the agents will be gone in ten minutes. We’re sorry to disrupt your hospital, sir.

Thank you, Ms. Underwood. You Darden Green? he said solemnly, turning his red face to the campaign manager.

Yes.

I hate to ask you to do this, but we have a body down in the morgue that needs to be identified. Can you help me out?

Who is it?

The driver of the car. It’s a male, about all I know, but I’ll tell you right now it’s not very pretty. Went through the windshield and died at the scene, Dr. Ellis shook his head. So you have to keep that in mind. He won’t look like you remember seeing him if you know him at all. I was told he got tossed around pretty good first. No seatbelt.

Darden, I’ll go if you want.

I’ll do it. You’ve got plenty to do. I’d leave the agent schedule with the charge nurse. But, thank you. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. You have my number, right?

Candice nodded.

In the waiting room outside the mortuary, a black female sat waiting for the doctor and whoever else to return. She had a notepad and a tape recorder sitting in front of her on the plastic table top as she nervously drummed her ballpoint pen.

Felicity, this is Darden Green. He will identify the body we have for examination and then you can talk to him.

Darden, this is Felicity Edgar, a reporter for the Yonkers Banner in New York. She reached the scene first.

They shook hands and Darden said he would be right back just as he threw up on the floor next to where she was sitting.

Sorry.

He withdrew his handkerchief from his right hip pocket and bounced off the drinking fountain just long enough to cleanse his mouth. Dr. Ellis and Darden acknowledged the morgue doctor as he stood stone-faced on the other side of the autopsy table ready to pull back the sheet

Are you ready?

Darden looked at Ellis and nodded. The mortician drew the sheet back. It was Ted all right, his face was one continuous bruise and he was cut in several places from going through the windshield, the dried blood purple from exposure. His scalp was a mass of bumps from striking the hood and the rough gravel beyond. One eye was missing. Most of his lower lip had been torn off.

Darden shook hands with the mortician and looked at Ellis. He threw up again.

For the record, that is Ted Swift, husband of the woman upstairs, Beverly Swift.

Thanks.

Will you be in the hospital for awhile? After I finish talking with Felicity, I’d like to find out more about her condition.

"I’ll be here. Just have the nurse’s station page me. Would that be the Beverly Swift?"

Darden smiled. It would.

I didn’t make the connection upstairs when Ms. Underwood was describing the Secret Service set up. Been a long day.

Perfectly understandable. That is not how she normally looks.

Dr. Ellis smiled. Anything more just wasn’t in him now.

Darden eased into the booth across from Felicity and waited for her to finish her call.

I want …

Felicity shook her head and stared at the cell.

The cell reception down here isn’t very good, she said, I’m sorry, you were about to say something.

Darden smiled. Felicity was quite attractive and he surmised the holder of an Ivy League education from her dress and speech.

I wanted to apologize for throwing up next to you earlier. No reflection on you.

Whew. That’s a relief … then she giggled like an eight-year-old and Darden knew she understood. They both laughed. I can assure you it’s happened to me before. Especially at the first accident scene I reported. Only that time, I did the throwing up.

So, did you see the accident?

Not on scene, but I was driving toward the city when I heard this crash so loud that it drowned out my car radio, she leaned across the tabletop and lowered her voice. I saw sparks fly on the other side of the Turnpike and then a car and then a body go hurtling through the air. They were both on fire.

Darden nodded again.

Interesting. No evidence on the driver’s face I just witnessed that he’d been burned.

I think it was his lower extremities. I didn’t see any evidence that his face or upper torso had been burned, either. His pants probably caught fire when the firewall collapsed.

They must’ve really hit something hard. Do you know what happened?

Felicity turned on the tape player and took his hand.

First things first. Who are you? Who are the victims? How do you know them, ya-da, ya-da, ya-da?

Darden cleared his throat.

I’m Darden Green and I’m Beverly Swift’s campaign manager …

Felicity held up her free hand while she wrote furiously with the other.

You mean the woman in ICU is Beverly Swift, the rock star? And she’s running for president? Wow! There’s a scoop!

"Yes, she is that Beverly Swift. The dead guy is her estranged husband, Ted. And, yes, she’s running for president. At least she was until about three hours ago. Her current situation puts a wrinkle in that. A very large wrinkle."

If she was estranged from her husband, why were they in the same car together?

Good question. They were dealing with an incident involving their children up in White Plains. Beverly thought Ted was still out of the country, but he was at the house there. Fortunately, the children were with friends for the night and Beverly needed a ride back to the city. That’s how she wound up in the car with her ex-husband.

How long have you known Beverly Swift?

Twenty years. I joined her band at the start of their second tour. Not as a musician, but as road manager to try to keep things from getting out of hand. Could you tell what happened when you got to the crash scene?

Felicity nodded. It appears the car was traveling at a high rate of speed and the driver lost control. The tires left skid marks on the pavement and ran along the Jersey wall that protected the exit ramp from a steep embankment. The car must’ve hit the Jersey wall very hard, perhaps several times, because it was already on fire when it launched into the air right before the driver went through the windshield.

Do you know where Beverly was when the car finally stopped?

I didn’t know until the EMS team got there. It took them several minutes to get her out of the burning wreckage and fortunately the car landed on the driver’s side. She was more accessible. I heard one paramedic ask the other one how she could’ve been wedged under the back of the front seat with her seatbelt still intact.

Sounds like the impact was very hard. Anything else? I appreciate you sharing what you know.

Felicity looked up at the ceiling and accepted Darden’s business card, an old one from when the Blaze was still together.

That’s still a working cell phone number. Call me if you need anything else.

Will do. And thank you for your time. I hope Beverly recovers very soon. Oh, and one more thing. I almost forgot.

She reached into her bag and handed Darden a battered, blackened cell phone.

I think this belongs to either Beverly or her late husband. I found it about two hundred feet from the wreckage. I only noticed it because the screen was lit up.

Thank you, he said, turning the phone on before slipping it into his breast pocket. Unbelievable, it still works.

Darden went directly to the nurse’s station at the ICU where they paged Dr. Ellis. As he waited, he put Beverly’s phone in his shoulder bag. He didn’t want anyone to know he had it because he knew it was potentially a prized piece of evidence. Leonard Ellis came into the unit the same as before still looking grim and tired, but stepping pretty lively.

We can go into the ICU for a brief time. I know you have questions, but let’s have a look first.

They tiptoed into the unit like it made a difference and Darden teared up again when he got next to her. Not only was the head gear ugly and intimidating, but now he was close enough to see the bruises and reddened skin from what were apparently minor burns.

How did she escape being burned?

Evidently the car flamed out on impact, hard as that may seem to fathom. The fire from the engine compartment was mostly on the driver’s side even though the impact was on the passenger side.

How is she doing, Dr. Ellis?

She’s better than it might appear. Her vitals are good, but we had to induce a coma to bring down the swelling on her brain. We won’t try to bring her out of the coma unless things begin to get abnormal. How long that might be remains to be seen.

What about these monitors. What are they doing?

Dr. Ellis walked around the bed.

The heart monitor is telling us how her heart is doing as well as her respiratory function and blood pressure. The brain wave monitor stays fairly constant and when it spikes, that means there is brain activity like a dream or some memory she can’t get rid of.

Can she communicate while in the induced coma?

Some. If she is having a dream she may talk about it. She could even talk about something else, something that has been bothering her or on her mind. She could blurt it out or have a somewhat lengthy discussion.

Darden scratched his head. He was thinking about something.

Can I bring in a voice activated tape recorder to catch anything she says, especially if I’m not here? She might offer some insight into what happened. It won’t do anything unless someone says something.

Fine by me. If you will excuse me, I have to visit another patient.

Avis Dideon was tapping the glass and waving. He looked concerned.

Who’s that?

That’s Avis. He works for Beverly, too.

Whatever you say. Good night, Mr. Green.

Good night.

Darden motioned Avis around the corner to enter by the nurse’s station.

Avis grabbed Darden in a bear hug, the tears streaming down his face, his shoulders quivering, his eyes like milk saucers.

What the hell happened? Avis tapped Darden’s shoulder to offer his comradery. I didn’t know anything until I heard it on my police scanner and only then did I put two and two together based on the road description.

Darden looked like he’d seen a ghost, remembering what Felicity told him and he reiterated that to Avis, temporarily leaving out any mention of the cell phone. He explained what he found out when he got to the hospital and how he had to identify Ted Swift. Darden was shaking suddenly and Avis grabbed his elbow to usher him over to a chair.

You all right, man. You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Did you eat something?

I’m all right. Just a little weak from all the activity. I’ve seen several ghosts tonight including Wendy, my parents and Ted Swift. That’s enough for several nights, or lifetimes, for that matter.

Chapter

3

A vis Dideon was a free-lance reporter and photographer, but his forte was taking pictures. People were keenly interested in his photographs. Early in his career, he used them to blackmail his subjects – his married subjects – and extort money from them in exchange for the pictures. In rare situations he turned over the digital card, too. Most of his subjects didn’t even know what that was and cared less. They just wanted the photos to contain