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Authors: Jacqueline Druga

BOOK: Consigning Fate
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“It’s just the investigation.” Robbie defended.

“It’s your brother. Our brother. Do not ...do not run those prints, Robert. Do not. Out of respect of this family, and to be able to live with yourself... do not.”

“Live with myself?” Robbie asked.

Jimmy answered. “Yeah, Robbie, can you look at our brother knowing you ran his prints because you suspecting him just a little? Fuck that.”

“What am I supposed to do!” Robbie shouted. “Huh!”

“Start from the beginning!” Hal stated. “Like any good investigator. Start at the beginning. Investigate. Don’t just go with the prints. Find your suspects.”

“I’m trying!” Robbie shouted.

“Then try harder!” Hal blasted. “But you exclude all other options first before you even consider suspecting a man who’d have rather died than let our father die.

Robbie stood taller. “Hal, I love you. But this is my investigation. Frank put me in charge. I will do what I need to do.”

“Then I hope you’re proud of it all.” Saying no more, Hal walked out.

Jimmy gave one more stare at Robbie and followed.

Robbie stood there. He closed his eyes briefly, plopped down in the chair, and lifted his pencil.

After staring at the screen, he tossed down the pencil, sat back, and closed his eyes again.

 

<><><><>

 

“Ok and you’re not picking up the phone, why?” Dean spoke, out loud, has he stared at his telephone.

“Usually …” Lars said as he entered the lab. “To insinuate by questioning that someone is not answering the phone, would mean there was no answer on the other line. If you get voice mail, it helps to speak into the phone. But if no one is answering, no amount of asking is going to get you an answer. Unless, of course, you think they are psychically gifted.”

Dean looked up. He nodded. “Um, yeah, thanks.”

“You are so arrogant.”

“Yes, I am. You know, people usually knock before entering my office.”

“If the door is closed.”

“Open. Closed. Doesn’t matter. It’s respect.”

“It’s the clinic lab. I don’t see your name on the door.”

“What do you want?” Dean asked.

“Not to play tit for tat with you, that’s for sure.”

“What do you want, Lars?” Dean asked.

“Did you finish the task I asked?”

“I’m working on it.”

“Do you know what task that is?” Lars asked.

“Yes. Darrell’s blood.”

“Did you recognize the synthetic?”

“Nope.”

“So should we report this to Frank?” questioned Lars.

“Why?” Dean retorted. “I think you know exactly what it is?”

“What are you insinuating?”

“What do you think?” Dean stood up.

“I think you’re insinuating I gave him the drug.”

“Yep. I am.”

“Well, I think you gave him the drug.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Where were you Dean when the explosion took place?”

With a squeal of the stool as Dean pushed it aside, he raged forward.

A clearing of the throat stopped him.

“Gentlemen,” George said as he walked in. “Is this any way for the world’s two top minds to act.”

Dean’s eyes widened as he turned his head. “George.”

“Hello, Dean.” George stepped in further. “Wow, not much has changed in here.”

Lars cracked a partial smile and ran his finger over his top lip. “I see by that scrawny, surprised expression, that you had no idea Mr. Hadley was in town.”

Dean turned completely to face George.

“Perhaps if you attended a town meeting once and again,” Lars said.

After shooting a dagger filled glance at Lars, Dean looked at George. “What are you doing in Beginnings? Most of all, why are you alive in Beginnings. Obviously, Frank doesn’t know.”

George shook his head slowly. “Dean, Frank does know. Beginnings and the Society have reached a truce due to the impending war.”

Lars spoke, “Again, perhaps if you attended …”

“Shut up, Lars.” Dean snapped. “Ellen. She can’t know. I have to tell her.” Dean began to leave. “Excuse me.”

“Actually …” George stopped him. “She does. She and I have a date of sorts tonight.”

Lars added. “Line dancing.” He shivered. “Sounds peachy and romantic. Plus, good going George. Did you know that Dean here, dated you wife. Impregnated her too. Long story.”

“Excuse me,” Dean said and walked right out.

George turned to Lars. “Was that true?”

“In a sense. A bit exaggerated. Just to irritate the little scientist. Ah ...” Lars exhaled. “Got to love Beginnings.”

After Lars left, George shook his head with a chuckle. “Yeah, you do.”

 

<><><><>

 

“Dad,” Robbie sighed out when he reached him. “Oh, God, Dad, where are you?”

“I’m in my office right now. You aren’t gonna believe this Robbie, in fact …”

Robbie reviewed in his mind that last conversation he had with his father.

Stop.


You aren’t gonna believe this, Robbie, in fact…”

Robbie cut him off.

What was his father going to say?

What was Robbie not going to believe?

He thought back to what Darrell had said. That Dean had stopped in the office. Was Dean there right then?

Immediately when his mind started going back to that conversation, Robbie packed up and raced to the clinic to speak to Darrell.

But that was useless.

Darrell didn’t remember Joe being on the phone with Robbie at all.

Robbie replayed that last conversation over and over.

“Dad listen to me. Just ….” Robbie paused. “You’re in your office?”

“Yes, I was working on something when …”

“I love you, Dad.”

Damn it, he cut him off again. His father was working on something when ... when what?

Joe chuckled. “I love you, too, Robbie. Where is this coming from?”

“From the heart.”

“Wow.”

“Dad, talk to me. OK?”

“Robbie I can’t, I’ll be seeing you in a bit. Wait till you hear what I have to tell you.”

Stop.

What he had to tell him? What did Joe have to tell him?

He was excited. Talking upbeat. It was obviously after Joe got the news outside of his office. Maybe the change of his face that Darrell saw was shock.

Maybe the news wasn’t bad at all.

The clone.

Did the clone reveal himself to his father?

That could explain all.

When Joe said, ‘you’re not gonna believe this’, was he referring to the clone? Why didn’t he just stop to listen to what his father had to say?

 

“Dad, please talk to me. Please.”

 

All Robbie wanted to do; all he was focused on was keeping Joe on the line until Frank showed up.

 

“What’s wrong?” Joe asked.

“I just … I just am feeling funny.”

“Is it the wedding?” Joe asked.

“Yeah, sort of.”

“Robert. Listen can we talk in a bit. Meet me and Jason at the Social Hall. OK, right now I have to …”

“Dad, I just need to talk. Right now. Not then. Not about anything, I just need you to talk to you. Please.”

“Absolutely, talk.”

Robbie did.

What did he talk about? He talked about the wedding and how he was envious of Frank. Bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit. Anything to keep Joe on the line. Robbie was so focused on that, he lost sight of the fact that he was talking to his father and could very well be talking to him for the last time.

Not once did it dawn on Robbie that Frank would fail. After all, they had minutes to spare, Frank was on his way.

Frank would get him,

Frank would stop whatever it was that would take Joe’s life.

It was in the middle of Joe saying, “When I was twenty I went to a wedding once and …”

And that was it.

The line went dead at the same time Robbie heard a sound in the distance.

He tried. He screamed his father’s name over and over.

But Joe was gone.

Damn it. Robbie tossed a pencil.

His eyes gazed upon the computer screen. The black screensaver had come on; he had been in thought for that long.

Moving his finger against the mouse pad brought to the screen the fingerprint program.

What did his conversation have to do with the fingerprints? Nothing. Robbie was stalling. Reaching. Grasping. Trying for anything.

He was just about to sink into thoughts and feelings over his confrontation with Hal, when a knock at the door snapped him out of it.

“Yeah,” Robbie called out.

The door opened.

Hal walked in.

“I thought you went back to Bowman,” Robbie said. “Don’t you have a town to run?”

“I have business to attend to here,” Hal said and opened the door wider.

Frank stepped in.

Robbie slowly rose. He saw the look of seriousness on Frank’s face.

“You and I need to talk,” Frank said.

“About?”

“Fingerprints.”

Robbie snapped a glare Hal’s way. “You told him.”

“What choice did I have?” Hal asked.

“You fucking dick!” Robbie blasted. “You just can’t let well enough alone, you have to start trouble. Always starting trouble.”

“This is our brother!” Hal yelled. “He deserves to know where his little brother’s mind is at.”

“Enough!” Frank blasted. “Hal, leave us. Please.”

Hal nodded. “Good luck.” He backed out and closed the door.

“Frank, I …”

Frank held up a hand silencing Robbie. “Just listen to what I have to say.”

Robbie nodded.

Frank walked closer to where Robbie stood. “Hal told me that you are thinking of running my fingerprints. Hal’s pretty pissed. Jimmy is … he’s about as pissed as Jimmy gets.”

“I know. But …”

“Let me finish.” Frank walked to him. He stood toe to toe with Robbie staring down to his younger brother. Then Frank leaned forward, put his hand behind Robbie’s head, and laid his lips to Robbie’s forehead.

Robbie stepped back. “Frank? Did you just...kiss me?”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“I love you,” Frank said. “I love you very much, Robbie.”

“I love you, too, Frank.”

“See? And I know that.” Frank pointed and stepped back. “I know that. Robbie … what Hal said. Jimmy said …” he shook his head. “I don’t give a shit about what they think or say. You got that? I put you in charge of this investigation because I knew you, little brother would deliver me a killer. Did you think it would bother me that you wanted to run my prints?”

“I didn’t know. It bothered me.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re my brother.”

“So what. If it doesn’t bother me, why the fuck should it bother you? Fuck, Robbie, I would expect you to run that print against every single person who knows how to make an explosive. Whether or not you think they could do it.”

“Even if it’s you?”

“Fuck yeah. Me, Dean, your name. Run it. In fact, I want you to run my prints. I want you to run your own, Hal’s, Jimmy’s. Do it.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know about you little brother, but I’m sure fucking curious. I mean, who is to say Dean’s clone is the only clone running around. I know I didn’t do it, but if my fucking prints turn up, I know there’s another one of me running…” Frank slowed down and smiled. “Oh, yeah, can you imagine. Two Franks.”

Robbie laughed. “I think Hal would go crazy.”

“Exactly. Run the prints. I got some time before I have to go to the Killer Baby region. I’ll stay.”

Robbie walked back to his chair and sat down. He exhaled. “I don’t know.”

“OK, how’s this. What would Dad say?”

Robbie shrugged.

Frank rested his hand on the back of Robbie’s chair. “I know what Dad would say. The moment you told him about running my prints, he would say, ‘good goddamn thinking Robbie. Frank wants my goddamn job.”

Robbie laughed.

“Run the prints. Let’s see what we get.”

After a shake of his head, Robbie glanced up to Frank. “You’re the best, Frank.”

Frank grinned. “I am.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

“Do it,” Frank said.

“I can’t,” Robbie replied.

“Do it.”

“I can’t. It isn’t right.”

“It’s an order.”

“Ok, you’re the president.” Robbie dialed the phone. His voice chanced to a somber one. “Hey, Hal. Did you leave yet?”

“No, I did not. I have been trying to for an hour, but Elliott Ryder seemed to have told Todd from Fabrics that I wanted a pair of cowboy jeans.”

“Did you?”

“No!”

“Where are you?”

“Getting fitted for chaps.”

“Assless?”

“What is it, Robbie?”

“Why are you getting fitted for chaps?”

Sarcastically, Hal answered, “Because they make my crotch look bigger. I don’t know. Elliott set me up as some sort of practical joke.”

“That’s not right,” Robbie cleared his throat. “Anyhow. I need to speak to you. Can you come to the Social Hall?”

“It’s not to call me a dick or to fight is it? I don’t want to fight with you.”

“No. Not to fight.”

“Fine. I needed a reason to get out of here.”

“Will you be wearing your chaps?”

Click.

Robbie looked up to Frank. “He hung up.”

“Why is he wearing chaps?”

“Assless chaps.”

“Yeah. Why is he wearing assless chaps?”

“Something about making his crotch look big.”

“Man, and they call me Shortcake.” He walked to the door.

“Frank?”

“Yeah.”

“Who ... who calls you Shortcake?”

“Fuckin Danny Hoi started it with his new crush on me, now everyone is calling me Shortcake.”

Robbie laughed.

“Yeah, and Hal orders assless chaps. Go fuckin figure. Now it’s all going to be worth it. See you at the Hall.”

The door closed.

Robbie booted down the computer, tucked some papers in a folder, and headed out of his office as well.

 

Frank’s phone rang the second he stepped out of the office and onto the path. He looked at the LCD display and answered, “No, Dean I will not wear assless chaps for you.”

“What the hell?” Dean asked.

“But Hal will.”

“Frank. What is wrong with you?”

Frank laughed. “Nothing. What’s up?”

“When are you going to the Killer Baby region to see if there’s more of that stuff?”

“In a bit. Before sundown. Dan’s shift doesn’t start until six. Why?”

“Hmm.”

Frank pulled the phone from his ear then returned it. “Are you moaning to me?”

“No thinking.”

“Well I wasn’t paying attention.”

“To?” Dean asked.

“Your thoughts.”

“Sorry, I was quick.”

“No problem. What’s up?”

“Well, I was telling Danny Hoi about my dilemma. I want to see what’s in the area, but I don’t want to go.”

“What area?” Frank asked.

“Killer Baby….”

“Toddler.”

“Whatever,” Dean said. “Anyhow, I want to see what’s going on up there, but I don’t want to go there.”

“Where?”

“The Killer Baby region Frank!” Dean snapped.

“Dean! We don’t have a Killer Baby region. We have a Killer Toddler and killer gay toddler region we don’t have a killer ….”

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean cut him off. “Danny said he can rig a remote camera for your head. You wear it, I can watch.”

“No fuckin way. He has one?”

“Yeah, several, he’s using it for the new Danny Show. A day in the life. He said he’s bringing back reality show. The library cam, the view from the librarian. Surgery cam. View from me.”

“That’ll be boring.”

“Ha. Ha. So will you?”

“Will I what?”

“Wear the camera?”

“Why won’t you go?”

“Frank, it’s the Killer Baby region.”

“Dean we don’t …”

“Killer Toddler, sorry. I don’t want to die.”

“Makes sense.”

“So will you wear it?”

“Yeah. When can I get it?”

“That’s the problem. He won’t be able to get it to you until after line dancing. So I figured, maybe at first light go up there.”

“You still want me to see if I see any more baby semen or do you want me to just wait?” Frank asked.

“You can wait. But if you feel inspired to go up there at six, that’s fine. Two trips can’t hurt.”

“I agree. I miss them. Well I’m in town, so I have to get to the Social Hall.”

“You aren’t drinking already are you, Frank.”

“Yeah, Dean, I’m getting loaded at four in the afternoon. No!” Frank barked. “Actually ...” He chuckled. “It’s a practical joke I’m playing on Hal.”

“On Hal?” Dean asked. “Really? Can I help?”

Frank stopped. Then Frank smiled.

<><><><>

 

Robbie poured a shots worth of whiskey into a glass for Hal.

“I have duty tonight, why are we drinking?” Hal asked.

Robbie poured one for himself. “Down it.”

“Fine.” Hal downed his shot and Robbie downed his.

After a gasp, Robbie wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. “They matched.”

“What did?” Hal asked.

Robbie exhaled. “The prints.”

Hal tilted his head. “Explain.”

“You said not to run them. It would be wrong.” Robbie poured more. “I ran them. They matched.”

“Frank’s?”

Robbie nodded.

“Good God.” Hal snatched up the bottle.

Hal downed another shot. “There has to be an error.”

Robbie shook his head. “No, I double checked. You know what I’m thinking don’t you?”

“What?”

“Clone.”

“Two Franks?”

Robbie nodded.

Hal reached for the bottle.

Robbie stopped him. “You’re on duty.”

“I need this.”

At that moment, the door to the hall opened and Dean flew in. “Robbie, thank God you’re here.”

“Dean.” Robbie said in an almost fake surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“I … I need a drink.” Dean pointed and walked to the bar. “And I have news.” He walked behind the bar, eyes barely shifting to Frank who was sitting on the floor. He stood next to Robbie and grabbed the bottle.

“What’s going on?”

“I guess I’m …” Dean buckled. Physically buckled. He went from standing straight to ‘head at bar’ level. His arms slammed down grabbing his balance. When Frank extended his arms hitting into the back of Dean’s knees.

Robbie snickered.

Hal asked. “Are you OK?”

“My knees have been giving out.” Dean stood up. “No …”

Down again he went.

He caught himself.

“You should have that looked at,” Hal said.

“Hal,” Robbie said. “He’s a doctor.”

“Yes. I am.” Dean poured a drink. “Anyway, Robbie, we ... we have problems. I have figure out why Frank is so different.”

Hal perked with interest. “Why?”

“Because it’s …” Dean buckled again, this time his knee hit into the bar. “Goddamn it!” He side kicked into Frank and bit his lip.

“You were saying?” Hal asked.

“It’s not Frank.” Dean laid a folder on the table, and drank his shot. “God! How do you Slagels’ drink this stuff?”

“Dean!” Hal snapped.

Dean continued. “I began getting suspicious, when he started stating math facts. It was then I knew. I think … I think we may have a Frank clone. Fort said he was chasing a clone. I think it’s Frank.” He opened the folder. “Not only does his blood test show no Jackrabbit mutation. Which would make sense because I cloned him before the mutation took full effect. But look at the scores he took on the intelligent testing I gave him.”

Hal looked at the folder. “Genius?”

“And he took it in ten minutes flat.”

“Dean, correct me if I’m wrong, but ...you … destroyed all the clones,” Hal said.

Dean shook his head “No. I saved Frank’s. I figured the world would need a superhero in the future.”

Robbie held back his laugh.

Hal rolled his eyes. “Oh, yes, just what the world need another Frank. Good God, people.” Hal lifted the bottle. “You’ll stop at nothing. I am so glad you find humor in my concern.

“Hal,” Robbie said. “You’re on duty.”

“Yes, I know. But I thought Frank needed to drown his troubles.” With a lean over the bar, Hal turned the bottle upside down and emptied the contents onto Frank.

Frank jumped up. “Hal!”

“Frank! Ha. Ha. Ha.” Hal shook his head. “Next time you want to hide behind the bar in some sort of genius master plan. Take a moment to realize there is a mirror.” Hal pointed.

Frank looked at the mirror that hung behind the bar, tilted downward. “So.”

“So I saw you asshole.” Hal said. “And you were watching me in the mirror. I made eye contact with you twice.”

“Oh, I thought that was my imagination.”

“No.” Hal shook his head. “And you, Dean, I’m surprised they pulled you in.”

“You have to admit,” Dean said. “Frank using Fort’s clone story was brilliant.”

Hal slowed down in his response. “Yeah.” His eyes sifted. Dean didn’t know for sure about the clone. Frank hadn’t implemented his plan yet. “That was a shocker. Perhaps Frank will talk to you more about it.”

Frank nodded. “I will. Him and I are working on something first. I should have never hid behind the bar. But I wanted to see your face. Man …” Frank exhaled. “I should have worn an Iffy suit.”

The glass dropped from Robbie’s hand mid laugh and he looked at Frank. “What did you just say?”

“I said I should have worn an Iffy suit. Was that wrong?”

“No, big brother. Not at all.” Without picking up his glass, just as he blurted out an ‘excuse me’, Robbie raced from the Social Hall.

“What was that all about?” Hal asked.

Frank shrugged. “Probably thought of a practical joke using the suits. But I have them hidden.” Frank winked. “Man, I smell like booze. I have to go shower before I hit the Killer Toddler region. I need them to catch my scent, or they’ll eat me alive. Thanks for the help, Dean.”

Hal sat down when Frank left, and drew up a pleased look as he sipped the remainder of his drink.

Dean crinkled his brow. “What’s the look for.”

“Stupid practical joke. Me the butt of it. Doesn’t matter. Little by little…” Hal grinned. “The old Frank is coming back.”

Dean smiled. A smile that matched Hal’s and he lifted a glass to Hal’s with a clink. “Thank God.”

 

<><><><>

 

Pretty much anyone would have guessed it. Blake, the soap opera god, knew his line dancing. He gave instructions first; three dances and the instructions took two hours. The dance floor was packed with people wearing the newest sensation, Sassy Ben’s jeans.

A few didn’t, like Ellen. But she like many stayed on the dance floor most of the evening.

 

Elliott watched. He and two other UWA solders were in charge of keeping things tight at the Hoi-Hoi on the Range. After all, it was the biggest night they had ever had. Mainly his focus was on Ellen and how she and George were nearly inseparable.

‘For appearance sake’ really was working, because everyone talked to George.

Elliott saw him differently. He saw him perhaps the way Beginnings saw him before all hell broke loose and the country divided.

A man of the people who got out there and had fun.

Plus, George Hadley could line dance with the best of them.

“Jealous?” Hal asked as he walked in.

Elliott cased him. “Of those chaps you’re wearing? No.”

“Funny. Ben grabbed me.”

“He grabbed you, Captain?’

“Mind out of the gutter, Elliott. He saw me outside and asked why I wasn’t wearing them. He made them for me. So I decided to wear them.”

“Spiffy.”

“Spiffy?” Hal asked. “Did you just refer to something I am wearing as spiffy?”

“I did.”

“Hmm.”

“Although I expected them to be assless. According to Frank.”

“Frank is an ass … hole. But you didn’t answer. Are you jealous?”

“Of?”

“Ellen and George?”

“No. Are you. She was supposed to be your date.”

“Good God, Elliott, do I look like the line dancer? No,” Hal said.

“I may not be jealous. You may not be. But she …” Elliott pointed toward the jukebox.

Hal smiled. “Margaret does appear to be quite green.”

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