We had a beautiful ceremony at our House of Angels yesterday (Easter Sunday). The House of Angels? It’s our outdoor sanctuary for prayer and healing. To see it, go to www.annrichduncan.com and click the “About Don” button at the top. It’s a very special place. In the meantime, here’s the next few pages from The SEED, my novel of suspense.
. . . in the last installment, Melvin was thrashing around because of a nightmare involving giant mosquitoes. Soooo, here we go:
Melvin dialed Ricardo’s number. He scowled. Ricardo was a squirmy fellow with a squeaky little voice, even if he was a big shot with the FDA. Melvin only put up with the man because he often came through with easy jobs that paid good money. Very good money!
The ringing stopped and Melvin waited for the beep before leaving his coded message, “The soup’s hot–time to eat.” He knew that Ricardo would be glad to hear that the enhancer had been added to the jet fuel without a hitch. Smooth as Mom’s pumpkin pie, he murmured as he hung up.
A glance at the clock told Melvin there was still plenty of time for sleep. He yawned and scratched his expansive belly with long, satisfying strokes on his way back to the couch. He hoped Ricardo’d show up with the money before he had to leave for his shift as a security guard at the Miller Building.
As he drifted off to sleep, Melvin smiled. He expected to make a big score there, too.
CHAPTER 7: Is it a bomb?
When the mail clerk dropped the battered package on his desk, FDA executive Bob Jette had a premonition. Could this be a bomb? You never know these days–especially when you work in a federal building. He quickly dismissed the idea. Heck, there shouldn’t be anything to worry about–they take precautions with packages these days . . . even here in the Food and Drug Administration.
He turned it over. There was no return address, but the postal mark was from Tennessee. He frowned. He did not know anyone from Tennessee and he hadn’t been working on any apps from there, either. He tore it open and peered inside. “Hmm. It’s a video.” The video had a handwritten message on its label. “See that this gets to . . .”
“Hell’s bells! The ink’s smeared.”
The only other part of the message that Bob could make out was the first three letters of the name of the person who sent it. He thought it said, “P-e-r.” So, who do I know with a last name that starts with p-e-r? He shrugged. Oh well . . . maybe if I move on to something else, it’ll come to me. As he sorted through the rest of his mail, a name popped into Bob’s head–‘Timothy Perkins. Of course! Commander Perkins was here last fall, looking into a matter for the Army’s R&D Unit. I bet he wants me to pass this on to his people. But, then again–why would he send it to me if he wants THEM to get it? Bob tried to recall his sessions with Lieutenant Commander Timothy Perkins. He works with General Carrey and that Colonel they call C.D., so I guess he’s honest–I know they’re good guys. Bob pursed his lips as he pictured the man they called Perkins. He’d been impressed by his sharp mind and his ability to process reams of data. He wondered if Perkins had a photographic memory.
Bob decided to watch the tape before taking any action. He stuffed it into his briefcase, thinking he’d watch it while his wife Carla was at her P-T-O meeting.
The rest of the day dragged along as Bob busied himself with the usual paperwork and confirmation calls. With each hour, he grew more impatient to see what was on the mysterious video. In Bob’s estimation, five o’clock did not come soon enough.
After they enjoyed a quiet dinner together, Bob gave Carla a peck on the cheek. He watched intently as she buttoned her jacket, noticed how her hair bounced with each movement. Moments later, he stared nervously as she nosed her car out of the driveway. It’s funny, he thought, how you notice the little things when you’re scared. Scared? Where’d that come from? It’s just a video.
. . . . that’s it for this one. Thank you for coming this far. Please let me know what you think in the comment box. To order The SEED, or any of the Johnny Vic historical adventures, go to my website: www.annrichduncan.com.