Rose of Betrayal (65 page)

           
Brad's
eyes rounded with wonder at Ted’s confession. He felt like a herd of wild
mustangs had just trampled his chest.
 
His own guilt and betrayal was a difficult thing to swallow.
 
Fear ran a race with reason.
 
He had to know.
 
The pool of tears collecting in his eyes and
spilling forward drained the color as he spoke, “Tell me it wasn't you.
 
Please.
 
Tell me you didn't . . . because, if you did . . . God have mercy on
your soul.”

           
For
a moment Brad's threat hung in mid-air, then ultimate terror ripped through Ted
when he finally deciphered Brad's grief filled expression.
 
Sam!
 
If Brad did not receive the information, he wouldn't have known she was
in danger that she needed protecting.
 
No!
 
Brad wasn't telling him . . .
Briskly Ted up-righted himself, the fingers of both hands digging their prints
into Brad's shoulders.
  
Eyes wide with
apprehension, “Sam, Jesus, God, what happened, is she . . .” Ted's eyes clouded
with pain, and fragility?
 

           
In
a split second, truth blossomed and bloomed. Ted was innocent.
 
Deep down Brad knew all along.
 
Certain his friend would collapse any minute,
“Sit, Ted.
 
Now, damn it.”
 
Numbed with horror, Ted obeyed.

           
Knowing
he would see his own pain mirrored in Ted's eyes, Brad lowered his head while
relaying the bitter news that would surely break Ted's heart.
 
“She's alive, but in bad shape.
 
Someone almost killed her.
 
Beat her pretty badly.”

           
Ted
made no sound nor did he move.
 
Brad
chanced a look and watched Ted's eyes scan to the table where the gun lay, and
a syringe.
 
The floodgates to Brad's mind
opened.
 
There lay the explanation for
everything that had changed, why Ted gambled, why he needed money, why he
became involved with Sommer’s.
 
Brad
screamed inside, why didn't Ted tell him, come to him?
 
Isn't that what friends are for?
 

 
         
Although fear took
several routes in his mind, Brad matched Ted's quick maneuver managing to place
his body like a wall between Ted and the lethal weapon.
 
They exchanged glances Ted’s thoughts glowing
in his eyes like a siren.
 
In that
moment, both knew the others mission.
  

           
Brad
shouted, “We'll do this together, do you hear me, like we have always
done.
 
Nothing is as fearful if battled
by two people.”
 

           
Ted's
face went blank undeniable homicide filled his eyes.
  
“You can't this time, my friend.
 
It's much too late.
 
I must do this myself.
 
Just once, I have to stand on my own two
feet.
 
I'm in trouble big time, Brad the
reason they went after Sam.
 
No one can
help me, not you, not Sam, not God himself.
 
There is no way out.
  

           
“You
see I knew you'd come.
 
You and Sam have
been under surveillance for a long time.
 
They have pictures of the two of you together . . . rather intimately.
  
They used the two of you against me.”
 
Laughing sardonically, “But, I was finished
before that anyway.
 
The mob has a
contract out on me, eventually they will get me one-way or another.
 
If not today, tomorrow, next week.
 
Believe me, they'll get me.
  
Don't you see, buddy, I counted on you to
lead them here away from Sam.
 
Far enough
away to allow the authorities time to . . . “
 

Wisdom came to Brad like a
hurricane.
 
“Sommer’s,” came out as a
breath of frosty air.
 
“You're blowing
the whistle.”

The nod of Ted's head sent a bullet
through Brad's heart.

           
Ted
knew the final part of his plan would not go astray. There was no escaping a
contract secured by the mob.
 
They were
out there waiting.
  
No harm would come
to Brad if he stayed out of the line of fire, and Ted was determined that he
did.
 
All he wanted now was enough time with
his friend to say good-bye.
 
“Have a
drink with me, one last beer.”
 

           
Brad's mind tried to consume what
Ted divulged.
 
How long did Ted know
about his and Sam's betrayal?
 
Stiffening, he cursed himself.
 
How could he have been so stupid?
 
He should have figured it out.
 
Now, because of him, trapped his friend was.

           
Ted saw the wheels turning in Brad's
skull. “Forget it. Let it go.
 
There is
no way the two of us can fight this battle.
 
It's bigger than I ever realized.
 
You have no idea, friend, how big.
 
You have to let me do this my way, for all of us, especially for
Sam.
 
She will need someone to take care
of her.
 
Someone she can depend upon who
she loves more than she realizes.
 
That's
you.”

           
Ted retrieved the two remaining cans
of beer.
 
Brad was unable to move, or bat
an eyelash, the shock of truth was too unmerciful.

           
Brad's state of mind enabled Ted to
slip a drug into Brad's can of beer.
 
He
hoped it would not be too much longer.
 
He was tired, the drugs were wearing off, and he didn't want his friend
to witness what happened to a hopeless addict without his lifeline.
 

           
Handing Brad the can of beer, then
lifting his, Ted saluted, “To us, dear friend, to all the good times.
 
To the woman we both love.
 
To the love we share for one another.”
 
Peace and acceptance ran the length of Ted
relaxing his tired muscles his tattered nerves.
 
Signs he was doing the right thing.
  
Possibly the only good deed he had ever done in his entire life.
 
With the peace came the answer.
 
When it came to love you cannot count the
cost, the heartache, the sacrifice, what is gained or lost, what matters most
is what you feel inside.

           
The tears glistening in Brad's eyes
spilled down his cheeks.
 
Taking the beer
in one hand the other squeezed Ted's shoulder before slipping his arm around
his neck to pull him into an embrace.
 
They clung to one another until words filled with enormous emotion
leaped from Ted's mouth.

           
 
“I love you, brother.
 
I always have.
 
Always will.
 
I never meant to hurt you or Sam.
 
Say you forgive me. I can't do what I must unless I know you have.”

“Ditto,” was all Brad
could choke out tightening the hug.

           
Pushing himself back Ted’s eyes
pinned Brads.
 
“Go back to Sam.
 
Take care of her.
 
Love her for me.
 
Have lots’ of kids.
 
Live the life I would have loved to
live.
  
Do it for me.
 
Promise me.”

           
Panic rising in his throat expelled
a screamed protest, “No, God Dammit, you are going back with me.
 
We will beat this.
 
There is no way I will leave you here. Hear
me loud and clear, pal, it is not going to happen.
 
If they get you they'll have to go through me
first.”

“Christ, Brad, don't
be a jackass.
 
Promise me then get the
hell out of here.”

Deciding it would be
best to lie, Brad conceded, Ted would not face death alone.
 
“Whatever you say, friend, whatever you say.”

 
          
Sitting
together sipping beer, they reminisced, yet even their funniest follies were
lost within the well of depression both were drowning in, this time with no
ledge to grip.
 
The sound of snapping
twigs brought both to attention making them instantly aware of the silence
falling over the earth.
 
It was too
quiet.
 
Strangers had entered natures’
domain.

           
Unexpectedly Brad's eyelids felt
unusually heavy, his head seemed excessively light. Glancing at the window, he was
unable to make out anything other than the purple haze typically signaling the
end of day.
  
Looking back at Ted, he
recognized the glazed acceptance in his eyes.
 
Distraught with fear, Brad cried, “We're doing this together, just like
we have everything even if it means dying together.
 
If they want you they are going to have to
take me too.”
  
Withdrawing his gun, he
fumbled with the safety switch and began to raise it . . . we'll . . . go . . .
down . . .
toget
. . .” Too late he saw Ted's fist
raise.
 
Too late, he attempted to
move.
 
Before a black vulture scooped him
up, there was a dull thud.

CHAPTER 51

“JUNE, 2011”

           
Small
pieces of apparel spewed from the cracks of crammed suitcases.
 
Airline vouchers for the five P.M. flight to
Pennsylvania laid on a passé' paint chipped dresser.
 
Elderly parents would be eagerly waiting for
their only daughter and grandchild’s return home.

           
Briefcase
tucked under her arm, Susan entered the tiny living room where her sitter sat
on the barren floor entertaining her six- year- old charge.
 
After sternly warning the teenager not to
answer the phone and to keep Nicole inside the apartment with the door locked
until her return, she, bent to place a loving kiss on her daughters’ soft shiny
forehead, ruffled her blonde curly locks and departed.

           
The
business headquarters were impressive, Susan believed while approaching the
receptionist to inquire if she could meet with Mr. Peterson or Mr. Johnson.

           
Certain
she had cancelled all of Ted's appointments for the day, as per his request,
Connie glanced at the empty spaces in the opened appointment book.
 
Again, she inquired if the visitor was
positive she had made a previous appointment.

           
Thick
lenses revealed the woman's beady eyes filled with turbulence.
 
Her tone wobbly as she shyly replied, “No, I
didn't, but it's imperative I speak with one of them.”

           
She
appeared jittery, upset, particularly when her eyes scanned the office as if it
was an enemy camp, peculiar behavior to say the least.
  

“I'm sorry, Miss . . .” Connie gazed
at the visitor quizzically.

“Andersen,” Susan lied.

           
“Mr.
Johnson is out of town and Mr. Peterson is at a conference.
 
May I take a message or possibly set up
another appointment,” Connie graciously countered.
 

           
Ted
was not at a conference.
 
Having arrived
earlier than usual, he requested not to be disturbed under any
circumstances.
 
Connie thought it odd he
had summoned a locksmith to replace locks on both his and Brad's office doors,
and while the work was in progress he had been back and forth between the
offices several times.
 
Ted had not been
himself recently, and looked ill in her opinion.
  
He mentioned taking a brief vacation; therefore,
Connie thought little of his extra security precautions before leaving.