After the Evil – A Jake Roberts Novel (Book 1)

AFTER THE EVIL

A Jake Roberts Novel

Cary Allen Stone

©
2008 Cary Allen Stone

Revised 2015

ISBN-13: 978-1495413865

ISBN-10: 1495413861

ASIN: B013H3U81M

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a
retrievable system, or transmitted by any means without written
permission of the author.

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

“
Cary Allen
Stone
is a brilliant writer of psychological thrillers
and murder mysteries. He writes with a keen eye for detail–the
graphic violence is chillingly realistic. He delivers a taut,
darkly introspective, cunning and well-executed plot by leaning
towards the fallible side of his characters. He understands the
criminal mind avoiding the stereotypes that dominate crime
thrillers. There is a good balance of chemistry and conflict, good
and evil that fans will find enthralling. His characters become
embedded in our psyches and the pace of his unraveling of his
thriller is a ride not easily forgotten. Cary Allen Stone is an
important name to watch. This is one superb crime writer!”

––Grady Harp, Amazon Hall of Fame Top 100
Reviewervine Voice

To Tyler for all of her love

After she placed the duct tape over his mouth, it
became very difficult to make out some of his words. “No” was
muffled, but reasonably understandable. “Don’t” didn’t sound quite
right, but she got the idea. She mimicked his muted pleas
pretending to feel his fear and pain. It was the end of Father
Anthony Moralli.

He began his last day on earth on an airliner. His
destination was a resort-gambling oasis, which coincidently
included a well-stocked pond of young females. He was on what he
liked to call a “personal pilgrimage.” The expedition had nothing
to do with religion. Anthony simply wanted to, no
needed
to,
get laid. To accomplish the task, it required leaving the confines
of his parish to maintain the façade of his vocation.

Father Anthony loved the whole religion thing—the
ceremonies, hearing confessions, and especially saving lost souls.
He planned to start saving his soul right after saving all of the
others. After years of religious studies and training, he concluded
it was beyond his comprehension to truly understand God, so he
simply preached the commandments, and left the rest to God. What
Anthony really understood were the basic physical needs of a man.
He struggled with his vow of celibacy, finding it to be in direct
conflict with his deep and firm conviction, that sex was a gift
from God. To abstain, he believed, was a slap to the Creator’s
face. The “Love thy neighbor” commandment was his favorite, and he
took every opportunity to apply it to his life. Of course, that did
not include molesting boys like some of his classmates in the
seminary. He boarded the flight sans white collar, and slumped into
his assigned seat by the window, in the emergency exit aisle.

A good-looking man with dark, wavy hair and olive
complexion, Anthony gave his best Elvis smile whenever women smiled
at him. His deep-set, dark eyes suggested compassion, mixed with
forgiveness. They also hinted at a touch of mischievous intent. In
airline terminology, it was easy for the good father to make his
connection. Certain a nap during the flight would pay benefits
later that evening, Anthony closed his eyes, and quickly drifted
off to sleep. While he napped, the handsome, incognito stranger
tempted female “parishioners” inside the Church of the Holy
Aircraft Cabin. The older women sighed and relinquished the
temptation then placed a gentle hand over their husbands’. A few of
the younger, adventurous women on board, felt up to the challenge,
each waited for his nap to end.

Lori first noticed Anthony, as he searched for a
place for his Reebok carry-on bag in the overhead bin. She made her
way around the other passengers, and offered to help him. It was
one of her duties as a flight attendant. Safety was her first
concern. Passenger comfort was another. She carefully choreographed
every move. As her uniform dress rose up along with his bag to be
stowed, Anthony smiled. Lori’s compelling cyan-hued eyes, Angelina
lips, and cascading California blond hair, held Anthony’s
attention. Everything about her confirmed the Creator was truly a
master artisan. Drawing stares was commonplace for Lori. The women
envied her stunning looks, while the men behaved like schoolboys.
Manifested passenger, Anthony Moralli, held Lori’s attention. He
seemed different than the others, she thought.

* * *

She playfully protested while he fondled her, as if
they were in the back seat of a ’56 Chevy, at a drive-in movie.
Passengers in various stages of maturity, who stood near them,
stared with disgust. Any children present were oblivious to their
sordid adult behavior. They were distracted by all of the other
things associated with flying and airport security.

“I don’t care. I want some Susan Johnson right now,”
Nick said.

With feigned indignation, she corrected him.

“I believe, as recently as two days ago, it changed
to
Mrs. Nicholas Parker
.”

He covered by teasing.

“I forgot.”

Susan’s arms dropped to her sides, and she frowned.
She wasn’t finding his brand of humor very funny. Cognizant of her
distress, he pressed two fingers to her lips as he pulled her
close. They ended with an embrace, and a passionate kiss. When
their lips separated, Nick obsessed.

“Susan, I need you. I can’t live without you, you
know that.”

The embrace, the kiss, and the sentimental words,
accomplished what he wanted She melted in his arms.

“Nick, I love you so much, you’re everything to
me––you’re my life.”

Holding his face with both hands, she kissed him
again. He stroked her shoulders, and let his hands slip down to
fondle her spandex-smooth behind. A worried look appeared in her
brown eyes.

“Be safe my love, and come back to me,” Susan
said.

He reassured her with a promise. Nick was the
consummate sincerity machine, and had the uncanny ability to charm
his female victims, better than any of his contemporaries. The
other travelers, observing the two lovers, rolled their eyes and
groaned. Finally, the captain released his grasp on her, and turned
to reach into the back seat of his oversized Lincoln Navigator SUV.
He gathered his flight and overnight bags, and placed them
curbside.

After a final caress, Susan stepped back to take one
last adoring look at him. She blew him a tender kiss goodbye.
Although she would have liked to stay longer, she was already late
picking up her daughter from school. Nick pantomimed catching the
flying kiss with his hand, and pressed it to his lips. She pivoted,
and after an awkward climb into the driver’s seat, cranked over the
engine. The Bose CD player blasted out her favorite rap song. He
hated rap music, but tolerated it enough to appease her. She gave
him a doting smile and a brisk wave goodbye. Knowing how much he
cherished his toys, Susan concentrated on her driving, and was
extra careful with the SUV.

With a pathetic pout on his face, he stood at the
curb, like a little boy being dropped off at camp. His fingers
slowly, and sequentially fluttered in the air, to emphasize his
displeasure at having to fly off without her. Nick watched her
drive away.

As she made the turn at the end of the terminal to
exit the airport grounds, he quickly turned to look in the opposite
direction. It wasn’t too long before a Yellow Cab pulled up
alongside him and parked. The back door sprang open. A pair of
firm, long and proportioned legs extended from out of the back seat
of the taxi. Although she was petite, the heels made her at least
four inches taller. Her tight blouse accentuated her artificially
inflated breasts. The plaid skirt was snug, and scarcely enough
cloth to cover her dignity. Nick had met the barely above-legal-age
woman at a club, when Susan was out of town visiting relatives.

“Hey, babe,” Nick said.

The other travelers, who had witnessed his earlier
carrying-on, rolled their eyes knowing his new wife had just driven
off moments ago. They became furious when he scrutinized the young
woman from head to toe, as if evaluating the purchase of a slave.
It was understood she would play that role later in the evening, to
satisfy just one more of his sexual perversions.

“Oh Nick, you look so hot in your uniform. I’m
getting wet just looking at you,” Tricia said.

She squealed delightfully. Tricia knew how the game
was played, and was adept at using suggestive sexual innuendos,
having lost her innocence when she was an even younger girl. Nick
was a successful airline pilot wanting to play. Tricia wanted out
of her boring town. She also desired to have his upper-level income
spent lavishly on her. She knew that meant he would tug hard on her
leash, before she reaped the reward. Putting out, to get out was
fine with her, even if it meant humping a man twice her age.
Besides, age didn’t matter to a generation who believed sex was
solely for pleasure, and a lifetime of commitment wasn’t as
important, as financial security. As Nick snuggled with Tricia, he
sensed the men standing nearby were enjoying their own filthy
fantasies. Nick devilishly grinned, knowing their women were
growing more nervous by the second. The performance reached a
climax, when the captain gathered his baggage on wheels, and Trisha
held out her small overnight bag for him to take.

“I packed all of your favorite things,” Tricia
said.

With a broad smile, Nick added the undersized bag to
his. He reached out to take her hand, and they walked into the
terminal together. Nick wasn’t sure he could hold off until their
destination. The fierce animal desires he had for her, pulled at
him. He thought they might find a quiet place to use. Then again,
he cherished sexual tension as an integral part of the chase, so he
decided to simmer, rather than boil over. The men standing curbside
watched her provocative gait, and sighed right up until the
automatic doors closed behind the old guy and his juvenile
date.

* * *

Soft fingertips lightly stroked his forehead. He
blinked trying to clear his vision. His head was throbbing. He
could barely make out the shape of a face. He thought the facial
features resembled a woman smiling at him with one of those
after-great-sex smiles. He struggled to remember who she might be.
He couldn’t focus. The room appeared to be underwater, as if the
ship had overturned at sea. Nothing made sense. The last thing he
remembered was becoming extremely drained and drifting off.

Where...how...who was...

There was something restricting the movement of his
arms and legs.

Name is...name is...is...

The face with the smile that floated past him
reappeared, he couldn’t remember. Blaring in the background, he
heard lyrics and hammering of heavy metal music. He recognized The
Cult.

It’s the way that you feel

It’s the truth in your eye

Cause you’re up against the world

And still you rise

Holly? Jean? No, Lori, The flight...

What was holding him? He passed out again, until he
heard the words that shocked him back into reality.

“Poor Father Anthony. That is it, isn’t
it––
Father Anthony
?”

The effects of the drug had given Lori more than
enough time to secure him, and search through his wallet.

“Lori, what’s going on?”

He slurred the words. As he tugged against the
ropes, it hit him.