Confession by Gary Whitmore - HTML preview

Chapter 2

Ten years passed.

It was a lovely chilly morning in February across the southeast.

Allan Stein was Billy Stein’s brother. Allan now has gray hair, a huge pot belly caused by years of lousy diets, and from being lazy, smoking, and heavy drinking.

Allan lived in St. Cloud, Florida. He retired as an Army Lieutenant Colonel, spending his entire career with the Army Criminal Investigative Command (known as CID) at Fort Gillem, Forest Park, south of Atlanta.

Allan retired from the Army twenty years ago after a successful thirty-year career, where he was one of the most respected CID Agents.

Allan picked St. Cloud for his retirement home since his daughter Becky Adams lived in nearby Kissimmee. Another reason was that Disney was close by, and Patrick Air Force Base was another hour to the east for any military needs. Also, he frequented the Daytona Beach area but stopped those travels five years ago.

Allan spent his golden years writing fiction murder mystery books, which was an idea born during the late 1960s. He decided to make it profitable, as he did not want all his CID experience to go to waste.

Allan sat inside his den, where he had his Dell computer, lazy boy chair, television, and wooden cabinet locked with a padlock. On one wall hung pictures of Allan, his wife, Beverly, and Becky.

Allan sat at his computer desk where his six murder mystery books rested on a shelf above him. The titles were Die My Darling, Prison For Life, No Remorse, Mr. Kind, The Church Man, and The Stalker.

These books supplemented his Army retirement with a little extra cash but never became best sellers.

Allan listened to a local country and western radio station with a Lucky Strike cigarette dangling out of his mouth while typing away on his new Murder At Night manuscript. He planned to send it to his editor, Rodney Burstein.

“Dad, where are you?” Becky called from the living room the second she entered his house with her key.

“I’m in the den, darling,” Allan responded, then quickly smashed his Lucky Strike out in the ashtray on his desk. He opened up a desk drawer, hid the ashtray inside, and tried to wave away the evidence.

Becky, with shoulder-length blonde hair, entered the den with a gym bag in hand. She sniffed the air and instantly knew he was smoking. But she gave up scolding him about that nasty habit since it only went in one ear and out the other side.

She dropped her gym bag on the floor, walked up to Allan, and gave him a loving kiss on his cheek. “How’s the new manuscript coming along?” she asked while she curiously eyed the monitor.

“I’m tweaking the final draft now. I’ll send it to Rodney in a couple of weeks,” he answered.

“I’m ready to edit your manuscript when you’re done.”

“I’ll give it to you in a couple of days. And Rodney is also talking about another book after this one.”

“You should slow down and enjoy your golden years.”

“No way. I love writing what I know best,” he replied, then revised some dialogue saved and closed the Word file.

Nancy, his seven-year-old granddaughter, and Michael, his nine-year-old grandson, ran into the den. “Grandpa!” they both cried out in unison, as they loved Allan.

“Nancy! Michael! Come give Grandpa a hug and kiss,” he called out while he opened up his arms.

Nancy and Michael ran up to Allan, and they each gave him a loving hug and kissed his cheek.

Becky sat down in the LazBoy chair, grabbed the remote, and turned on the TV. She flipped through the channels and stopped on the Disney channel, where a cartoon was playing.

Nancy and Michael ran over and sat in front of the TV.

Then Nancy eyed the wooden cabinet over at the other wall, and she got curious again.

She jumped up and rushed to the cabinet. She fiddled with the padlock and tried to open it. “Grandpa, are you sure you don’t have toys stashed in here?”

Allan got annoyed and rushed over to her. “I’ve told you before, sweetie, please leave that cabinet alone!” he lightly scolded her while he removed her hands from the lock.

“Yes, Nancy, Grandpa doesn’t want you to see his Army secrets,” Becky said sarcastically.

Allan playfully stuck his tongue out at Becky while he walked Nancy back to his chair and plopped her on his lap.

“Like I’ve said a million times before, it’s just a bunch of old Army stuff in there. No toys. Now, why don’t I tell you a new story!” he offered with a wide grin.

Michael’s eyes lit up with joy, and they ran over to them. He sat down on the floor.

Allan placed Nancy on the floor next to Michael.

“Okay, this is the story of Prince Luna from the planet Neileon. The story starts with six young animals that lived and were best friends at the Kennedy Space Center. They lived an hour from this house. There was a gator, skunk, rabbit, bobcat, a snake, and a poodle that loved watching all the rocket launches,” he told them.

“What were their names?” Michael curiously asked.

“Well, the gator was named Wally. The skunk was named Stinker.”

Michael and Nancy snickered.

“The snake was named Slither, the bobcat was named Putty, and the rabbit was named Bugsy.”

“Just like Bugs Bunny,” Nancy called out.

“Yes, just like Bugs Bunny. Let me see, oh yeah, and the poodle was named Touché,” he added. “Then, one day, Prince Luna flew his spaceship to Earth but was shot down by some mean Aliens from his home planet. His spaceship crashed and landed down at the Kennedy Space Center one night.”

“Did he die?” Nancy asked, being concerned.

“Oh no, he was found by the six animal friends who called themselves The Dreamers.”

“Whew! I’m glad,” Michael said while he wiped his forehead relieved.

“Why are they called The Dreamers?” Nancy was curiously piqued.

“Well, because they dreamed of being Astronauts and going on adventures in space.”

“I’m a space dreamer!” Michael called out while he puffed out his chest.

Allan and Becky chuckled.

“See, Dad, you should write kids’ books instead of books about murder,” Becky praised Allan.

“With my thirty years of Army criminal investigative experience, I write what I know. It comforts me.”

Becky rolled her eyes, and then she got up from the chair. “Whatever. I’m going to change and then go jogging. Then we’ll head out after I take a shower.”

Allan continued with the story while Becky grabbed her gym bag and headed to the bathroom to change.

An hour passed, and Allan finished his story about Prince Luna and the Space Dreamers.

He went back to work on his new manuscript. Becky returned from jogging and was taking a shower. Michael and Nancy sat on the floor and watched another Disney cartoon while Becky finished her shower and dried her hair.

A few minutes later, Becky entered the den.

“How was the story?” she asked Michael and Nancy.

“It was great!” Michael replied with a huge grin.

“Good,” she said, then looked at Allan. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, just let me save my Word file and shut down the computer.”

Thirty minutes passed, and Becky drove them in her Toyota Sienna mini-van to the Heavenly Peace Cemetery in Orlando.

“I still don’t understand why you chose this cemetery instead of one closer to home,” she said while she drove her van into the entrance of the cemetery.

“This one felt right to me,” Allan responded, then coughed a little and cringed when a sharp pain shot through his chest.

Becky rolled her eyes while she pulled into the cemetery parking lot. Sometimes, she never understood Alan’s way of thinking but knew she could not change his stubborn mind.

After she parked the Sienna, Becky removed a hand trowel and a pot of Daisies they bought at Lowes.

They walked through the cemetery and stopped by a headstone.

“Beverly Stein, Loving, and Caring Mother. Born June 18, 1938, Died February 8, 2001” was carved in the white Granite headstone.

Becky knelt at the headstone and removed the dead Daisies. She used the trowel and planted the new Daisies.

“I don’t remember Grandma that much,” Michael said while he stared at the headstone.

“You were around five years old when she died. But she sure loved you and would always kiss your cheeks,” Becky replied with a warm smile while she dropped the Daisies into the hole.

Allan walked away twenty feet and lit up a Lucky Strike as if he would never fight off the addiction.

“Did she love and kiss me?” Nancy asked.

Becky frowned when she saw Allan while he smoked. “Of course. She loved you very much, and I can imagine she’s blowing you kisses from heaven right now,” Becky said while she scooped up some nearby dirt to seal up the flowers.

Nancy blew kisses at the sky. “I love you, Grandma,” she said and blew some more kisses.

Michael rolled his eyes, thinking his sister was goofy.

Allan saw Nancy blowing kisses at the sky and smiled, then took another drag on his cigarette. Then Allan went into a bad coughing fit and turned beat red. He coughed so hard he coughed up blood that dripped down his chin. Then he felt weird and dropped to his knees and vomited. There was a puddle of blood in the grass.

Michael and Nancy moved away at the sight of the bloody barf.

Becky rushed over and got Allan to his feet. “We’re going to the emergency room,” she said, then rushed him through the cemetery.

Nancy and Michael lagged, afraid Allan might vomit at any given second.

Becky drove Allan to the Florida Hospital in east Orlando. During the drive, Allan had a few more coughing fits. Nancy and Michael cringed in the back seat, afraid he would vomit again.

At the hospital, they ran a bunch of tests and released Allan the next morning. Becky picked him up and drove him straight home.

On Friday morning, Becky drove Allan to his doctor’s office to hear the results of the tests.

Allan, Becky, and her husband Marty waited in the doctor’s office.

Dr. Alicia Kennedy entered the office with a folder in hand. She looked serious while she walked over and sat down behind her desk. She opened up the folder and looked at the test results again. She paused while she glanced at everybody’s waiting eyes. “Allan, I’m afraid your tests indicate you have lung cancer, and it’s stage four. You also have cirrhosis of the liver,” she said and hated these moments.

Becky’s eyes welled up, and Marty comforted her.

“What does this mean, Doctor Kennedy?” Becky asked and feared the news would not be good.

“It’s terminal. I would estimate that Allan has about eight to twelve months. We could try some treatments, but there’s no guarantee it will go into remission.”

Becky sobbed, and Marty comforted her. “Let’s get started right away,” she said between sobs.

Allan looked shocked, as he knew everybody was going to die, but he thought he had at least twenty more years to live.

Then, he accepted his fate of having a year at the most. “No! I don’t want any treatments. Just let it run its course,” Allan said, looking serious.

“Dad, it’s worth trying,” Becky pleaded.

“She’s right, dad,” Marty added.

“No!” Allan said with a firm tone and got up and walked out of the doctor’s office.

Becky sobbed in her hands.

“I can prescribe something to relieve any pain he will endure,” Dr. Kennedy offered.

Becky nodded in agreement while she blew her nose into a Kleenex.

A week later, Allan sat in his fishing boat with his brother Billy in Lake Tohopekaliga near St. Cloud.

Becky accepted Allan’s opportunity to tell his brother about his condition. They quietly sat with their fishing lines in the water. Allan just broke the terrible news to his brother.

“It can’t be possible!” Billy said while his eyes welled up, knowing his big brother would be dead in months.

“I can’t stop it, Billy.”

Billy looked extremely concerned. “I’m so glad you burned our secret years ago. That was smart.”

Allan looked caught. “Well, about that. I never burned it. But don’t worry, I have it in a safe location. You can trust me, little brother; nobody will find it, at least while we’re alive,” Allan said and looked confident.

Billy glared furiously at Allan and wanted to smack the crap out of him. “Where is it? I can’t take any chances!” he yelled so loud that nearby boaters glanced in their direction to see what was brewing.

Allan opened his mouth to respond but suddenly went into a huge coughing fit, and his face turned beat red. He coughed so hard that blood ran out of his mouth and dripped down his chin. He rushed over to the side of the boat and vomited into the lake. When he was finished, he looked at Billy and looked scared. He passed out and fell to the bottom of the boat.

Billy started up the engine and raced the boat off toward the dock.

Later that night, Allan lay in a room at the St. Cloud Regional Medical Center. He was asleep in his bed. Becky sat in a chair by his bedside and held his hand. She silently prayed that he would not die tonight.

The room door opened, and Billy stepped inside the room.

Becky jumped up, furious, out of her chair the second she saw him. “Get out!” she screamed at Billy, who stood at the door.

“But, he’s my brother,” Billy pleaded. “Nurse!” Becky yelled.

Billy rushed out the door at the same time the nurse entered.

She rushed over, concerned something happened with Allan. “Something wrong?”

“I don’t want that man who just left to step one foot inside this room. His name is Billy Stein,” Becky replied and looked furious.

“Yes, ma’am,” the nurse said while she looked Allan over to make sure he was stable.

The nurse was satisfied Allan was stable, so she walked out of the room.

Becky sat back down and stroked Allan’s arm.

A month passed, and Allan looked thinner while the cancer was taking over his body. He watched TV from his LazBoy chair in his den.

“Grandpa!” Nancy cried out while running into the den and jumped on his lap.

Allan cringed in pain. “Be careful, sweetie. Grandpa’s not as strong as he once was.”

Nancy hugged Allan. “I’m sorry, grandpa.”

Allan picked up his remote and changed to the Disney channel.

Nancy rested her head on Allan’s chest and watched a cartoon.

Becky entered with Michael, who was dressed in his soccer uniform. “Dad, will you be okay with Nancy while I take Michael to his soccer game?”

“We’ll be fine. I’m feeling pretty good today,” he replied, then kissed Nancy on the top of her head.

Becky walked over and kissed Allan on his forehead. “Call my cell phone if you start feeling sick.”

“I will,” he responded while he watched Becky leave the room with Michael. Then he looked sad while he glanced down at Nancy. “Sweetie, did Mommy tell you that Grandpa wouldn’t be around much longer?”

“Yes, but everything will be all right,” she replied without a worry.

“Why do you say that?” Allan curiously asked.

“Because Jesus will take care of you, as he loves everybody.”

Allan looked extremely worried. “I’m not sure about that,” he whispered.

He looked at his wall and saw an old picture of himself in his Army uniform with Captain bars from the 1960s, and his face darkened.