Month: April 2024

The primary aim of the "Novel Excerpts" blog category is to showcase my creative writing, specifically from the novels I've written. Hopefully, these posts will provide a glimpse into my storytelling style, themes, and narrative skills. It's an opportunity to share my artistic expressions and the worlds I've created through my novels.

The Boaz Stenographer, written in 2018, is my fourth novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.

Book Blurb

Walt Shepherd, a 35 year veteran of the White House’s stenographic team, is fired by President Andrew Kane for refusing to lie.

Walt returns to his hometown of Boaz, Alabama and renews his relationship with Regina Gillan, his high school sweetheart, who he had ditched right before graduation to marry the daughter of a prominent local businessman.  Regina has recently moved back to Boaz after forty years in Chicago working at the Tribune.  She is now editor of the Sand Mountain Reporter, a local newspaper.

Walt and Regina’s relationship transforms into a once in life love at the same time they are being immersed in a growing local and national divide between Democrats and traditional Republicans, and extremist Republicans (known as Kanites) who are becoming more dogmatic about the revolution that began during President Kanes campaign.

Walt accepts two part-time jobs.  One as a stenography instructor at Snead State Community College in Boaz, and one as an itinerant stenographer with Rains & Associates out of Birmingham.

Walt later learns the owner of Rains & Associates  is also one of five men who created the Constitution Foundation and is involved in a sinister plot to destroy President Kane, but is using an unorthodox method to achieve its objective.  The Foundation is doing everything it can to prevent President Kane from being reelected in 2020, and is scheming to initiate a civil war that will hopefully restore allegiance to the U.S. Constitution.

While Walt is writing a book, The Coming Civil War, he is, unwittingly, gathering key information for the Constitution Foundation.

Will Walt discover a connection between the Foundation  and the deaths of three U.S. Congressmen in time to save his relationship with Regina, prevent President Kane from being reelected as the defacto head of a Christian theocracy, and the eruption of a civil war that could destroy the Nation ?

Chapter 68

After sitting under a clear sky and what looked like a full moon I realized I was hungry.  I went back inside and scrambled eight eggs, layering them with four slices of cheese when they were almost finished.  I ate half the eggs watching Sandi devour the other half.  After two slices of toast heavily spread with strawberry jam along with two glasses of milk, I sat in my chair hoping I could fall asleep.  I wanted to be sitting here when Regina arrived from Chicago.  It would be hours.

I quickly fell into a deep sleep but by midnight I was wide awake.  I kept sitting for another thirty minutes but knew sleep had abandoned me.  Curiosity had alerted me to the two backpacks I had foolishly left in the back of my truck.  I retrieved them and took them upstairs to my study across from my bedroom.

I started with the backpack filled with the contents of the bottom right-hand desk drawer.  These items were mainly articles from the Chicago Tribune.  I scanned through a few files and noted the common theme.  Nearly every article was about President Kane during his campaigning days.  The other six or seven files were either articles about the U.S. Supreme Court or copies of actual cases the court had decided.  For some reason, I wasn’t motivated right now to read any of these articles or cases.

The second backpack beaconed to me. I emptied its contents on an eight-foot table behind my desk.  There was a dozen or more journals and the two thumb drives.  Each journal had a business card plastic sleeve built into its front cover.  Each sleeve contained a white card with a year number written in black ink.  It was Regina’s printing I was sure.  I lined up the journals.  The oldest journal was from 1972.  The most recent journal was dated 2017.  The other ten journals started with 1975 and ended in 2014, skipping three or four years between each journal.  

I started with the 2017 journal.  I first scanned through the pages.  It seemed there was not an entry for every day of the year.  And, when there was an entry, it was relatively short, covering anywhere from a half page to a page and a half.  I flipped to the end of the journal and noticed the last entry.  It was dated December 27, 2017.  “Talked with Walt at Walmart.  He’s definitely interested and should pose little problem.”

What the heck did that mean?  Sounds like I was being selected for some experiment.  I turned back to the first entry, January 1, 2017.  “Nineteen days till the beginning of the end.”  January 20, 2017, no doubt was referring to Kane’s inauguration.  For some reason I felt a desire to see what was on the thumb drives, so I only reviewed a few other entries.  I turned nearly to the back of the journal and landed on December 10th.  This entry was almost two pages.  I read it in detail when I saw my name underlined at the top.  Regina described her talk with Thaddeus about me being fired from the White House.  She went into some detail about mine and her background.  She also wrote about what she remembered about my religious beliefs.  The next to the last paragraph she used a little journalistic psychology and described how I would be motivated to get back at President Kane, that I could be useful.  The final paragraph was Regina’s summary of her and Thaddeus’ decision to channel me for ‘the courtroom.’  

I set the journal aside and looked up at the revolving ceiling fan overhead.  My mind was flowing clockwise with the paddles on the fan, recognizing that I had been conned, that Regina had deceived me.  I was a fool for falling for her.  But, my heart was resisting.  It was trying to fight the wave so to speak.  I stared closer at the fan and imagined the blades stopping and turning counterclockwise. Surely, I had not misread Regina.  How could her smile, her look, her touch, and oh my, the sexual intimacy, have been an act?  Was I that much of a fool?  My heart resisted the strong attempt by my mind to answer in the affirmative.  I chose to think, to almost believe, that what sinister plan Regina had started with when we met at Walmart in December 2017, had transformed into a true love and devotion for me, but that she was trapped by a power, maybe Thaddeus, or his group, that prevented her from either telling me or of breaking away.  I had to confront Regina with the truth of what I had done and what I had learned.

I sat upright in my chair and reached for one of the thumb drives.  My cell phone vibrated on the desk beside my computer.  It was Regina.

“Hey baby.”  I said as naturally as breathing.

“Walt honey, I’m leaving Huntsville now.  I missed my first flight and had a two-hour layover.  I should be there in an hour or so.  Have you heard anything new?”

“No, not a thing.  How are you?”  I asked.

“Numb, maybe in shock.  I can’t help but hurt for Deb, but I’m also frozen by the overriding question, ‘why would Vann be at my house in the first place?’  This is all so surreal.”

“You are coming straight here, aren’t you?”  I asked.

“Of course, I couldn’t dare go home without you.  Do you think we will be able to go inside?”

“I have no idea.  If I had to guess, I would say no.  I suppose it depends on how long it took for the State’s Forensic team to get there. 

Isn’t there some way we could find out?”

“Why don’t you call the Etowah County Sheriff’s Department and see if they would tell you?  Please, since I’m driving.  Okay?”

“Sure, no problem.  You be careful and know I’m here for you.”  Now was not the time to indicate something was wrong between Regina and me.

“I know and I’m so thankful for that.  Bye, see you soon.”

I ended the call and searched online for the Sheriff’s phone number.  The woman who answered put me on hold after I told her what I needed.  Nearly five minutes later she came back on and said that 7759 Cox Gap Road was still ‘locked’ and wouldn’t be ‘opened’ until probably late Sunday or early Monday morning.  I thanked her.

I walked downstairs and made a pot of coffee.  After it finished, and I filled a large mug, I returned to my study and inserted one of the unmarked thumb drives.  What I learned after opening the first file quickly convinced me that Regina and I were in for a long and rough road.  The file, labeled ‘Brewer,’ contained photos of what I knew were from the spot along the fence line where Kip Brewer’s killer had made the deadly shot.  One photo captured the back side of Brewer’s house across a long pasture.  I was impressed by how close his back deck appeared even though I knew it was over 600 yards from the shooting site.  How in the hell did Regina have these photographs?  And, why would she have them?  But, what twisted my gut more than anything was the question, was Regina the shooter?

I couldn’t take anymore.  I removed the thumb drive and hid it, along with the other one, on a bookcase behind a set of Encyclopedias I had had since I was a teenager.  I then gathered the journals and locked them in the filing cabinet that housed all the research materials for mine and Vann’s book.  I returned the two backpacks to my bedroom closet and walked downstairs to ponder and wait on Regina.  I had to figure out what I needed to do.

The primary aim of the "Novel Excerpts" blog category is to showcase my creative writing, specifically from the novels I've written. Hopefully, these posts will provide a glimpse into my storytelling style, themes, and narrative skills. It's an opportunity to share my artistic expressions and the worlds I've created through my novels.

The Boaz Stenographer, written in 2018, is my fourth novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.

Book Blurb

Walt Shepherd, a 35 year veteran of the White House’s stenographic team, is fired by President Andrew Kane for refusing to lie.

Walt returns to his hometown of Boaz, Alabama and renews his relationship with Regina Gillan, his high school sweetheart, who he had ditched right before graduation to marry the daughter of a prominent local businessman.  Regina has recently moved back to Boaz after forty years in Chicago working at the Tribune.  She is now editor of the Sand Mountain Reporter, a local newspaper.

Walt and Regina’s relationship transforms into a once in life love at the same time they are being immersed in a growing local and national divide between Democrats and traditional Republicans, and extremist Republicans (known as Kanites) who are becoming more dogmatic about the revolution that began during President Kanes campaign.

Walt accepts two part-time jobs.  One as a stenography instructor at Snead State Community College in Boaz, and one as an itinerant stenographer with Rains & Associates out of Birmingham.

Walt later learns the owner of Rains & Associates  is also one of five men who created the Constitution Foundation and is involved in a sinister plot to destroy President Kane, but is using an unorthodox method to achieve its objective.  The Foundation is doing everything it can to prevent President Kane from being reelected in 2020, and is scheming to initiate a civil war that will hopefully restore allegiance to the U.S. Constitution.

While Walt is writing a book, The Coming Civil War, he is, unwittingly, gathering key information for the Constitution Foundation.

Will Walt discover a connection between the Foundation  and the deaths of three U.S. Congressmen in time to save his relationship with Regina, prevent President Kane from being reelected as the defacto head of a Christian theocracy, and the eruption of a civil war that could destroy the Nation ?

Chapter 67

I tried calling Regina until 1:45 a.m. this morning.  I was surprised this didn’t trouble me.  I guess the shock of her deception had slithered so deep into my subconsciousness that it had her tagged as a lost cause.  I wasn’t going to give up that easily.  I loved Regina and still consciously hung on to the idea that there was an innocent explanation, or even a semi-evil justification that I could accept.

It was now 7:15 a.m. and I had to leave her another message.  I sat down at the bar with a cup of coffee with the horrible image of Vann’s face, eyes open, blood pouring out of his mouth, smothering my mind.  The way his eyes were tilted up at me made me think he was someway wanting and trying to tell me something.

This is what made me recall our conversation as we rode in my truck to Regina’s house late yesterday afternoon.  He had told me he had spent several hours with Pastor Tillman and that he and Club Eden were not involved in Kip Brewer’s murder.  The fact Vann had said this certainly didn’t mean Tillman and his group were innocent.  Vann had said they were directly involved in the 2016 Russian plot to manipulate the Presidential election and had tripled the extent of the number of states that would be hacked in 2020.  I had asked Vann why he believed Tillman and friends had nothing to do with the Brewer assassination.  

Vann’s words, his initial response still rang in Walt’s ears.

“Coincidence. It happens.”  Vann had gone on to describe how Professor Romanov had been at Club Eden and had participated in the target shooting.  Tillman had said that he and the Professor were together that entire week, all the way until two days after the shooting.  Tillman had also said he believed there was someone, more likely a group of people, who were manipulating the media and therefore the public into thinking it was the President behind all the killings.  It looked like he had the best motivation for killing Congressmen who were opposed to him.  Vann said he deeply believed that President Kane would never authorize or approve murder, he was too honorable for that.

What Vann had said right before we arrived at Regina’s was now as troubling, or nearly so, as what was going on in our relationship.  Vann said he thought it was odd that the last three times he had gone to First Baptist Church of Christ to meet with Pastor Tillman, that he has seen Felicia Shea coming out of his office.  Each meeting had been scheduled for late Tuesday evening, after dark, around 6:30 p.m.  Vann’s words, right as I turned into the driveway to head up the steep hill, still rang in my ears, “I think they are having an affair.  It wouldn’t surprise me. 

Warren has always liked younger women.”

I now would give anything to be able to talk to Vann about this.  I would ask him a ton of questions.  What was Felicia wearing?  What was the expression on her face?  How was she wearing her hair?  Was she carrying her Bible?  Was anything else in her hands?  What was I doing?  Was I a psychologist?  Did I believe I could have discerned anything if I had been in Vann’s shoes?  Whatever I had decided would have been acting like a Kane supporter, reaching a conclusion without sufficient evidence.  I now, for sure, couldn’t afford that.  My life was in a hell of a mess.  As I pondered this thought, for the first time I realized that my life might be in danger.  For months, murders had occurred in the periphery of my life, Kip Brewer, Kyle Turner in Tifton, Georgia, Sarah Donaldson and Brian Steel here in Boaz.  And now, as close to my home as one could get without killing Regina or me, Vann was dead.  He was laying at Regina’s in a pool of blood.  If that weren’t bad enough, his killer had seen my truck as he was escaping the murder scene.

I don’t know how long my phone had been vibrating.  I don’t even know how I heard a thing.  It was like I had been hypnotized.  I first thought it was the steady ripple from the out-of-balance ceiling fan in Regina’s den.  Finally, I came back to reality and realized it was my phone over on the end table by my chair in the den.  By the time I reached it, the call had ended.  I picked up the phone and was walking back to the bar when it again vibrated.  It was DeeDee.

“What’s up?”

“Is Regina with you?”

“No, she’s in Chicago.  Why are you asking?”

“There’s something going on at her house on the brow.  I drove up the back way, Cox Gap Road, as I often do.  When I rounded the last curve before reaching the top of the mountain I drove right into a road block.  It was the Etowah County Sheriff.  He checked my ID and asked where I was heading.  He asked if I knew who lived in the big house jutting out over the valley.  After I answered his questions he let me pass but before I did I asked him what was going on.  He said they were investigating a crime at the Gillan home.”

“That’s odd, Regina, like I said, is in Chicago, and Belinda and their mother are in Gulf Shores.  There’s nobody at home.”  I said feeling my nausea coming back.

“Might be a burglary or something.”

“Listen sis, I’ve got to run. By the way, where are you headed?” I asked.

“To a meeting with the Governor.  He’s in town this weekend.”

“Oh.  For a moment I forgot that my sister is a big wig.”

“You better never forget that.  Talk later, bye.”  DeeDee said ending our call.

I immediately dialed Regina.  This time, she picked up on the second ring. “Walt, I’m so sorry not to have answered your calls.  I’m just now getting out of the all-night conference.”

“I’m just glad you are out of town.  Listen, I’ve just learned something has happened at your house.  DeeDee was coming up the mountain and ran across a road block.  The deputy said something about investigating a crime at your place.  Can you call Delton and see if he can find out anything?”  I said.

“What the hell could it be?  You know mom is not there.  No one is there this whole weekend.”

“I’m glad of that but I think we need to find out.”  I said.

“I’ll call Delton and will call you back as soon as I know something.  By the way, I miss you.”

“I miss and love you.  Take care and we’ll talk later.”

Sandi was scratching at the door when I got off the phone with Regina.  I pulled on my walking shoes and went outside to sunshine and a clear blue sky.  I was glad the fog and the drizzle had left town.  Just after starting our second walk around the pond my phone vibrated in my back pocket.  It wasn’t Regina.  It wasn’t from a contact, but from a number I didn’t recognize.

“Hello.”

“Walt, this is Delton, Regina’s crime reporter.  She asked that I call you.  She said to tell you she was making arrangement for a return flight.”

“What has happened?  Did you find out anything about what’s going on at her house?”  I asked.

“I made a call to a friend of mine with The Gadsden Times.  He made a call to his contact in the Etowah County Sheriff’s Department.  Prepare yourself for some very bad news.  You might want to sit down.”  Delton instructed.

“What is it?  Tell me?”

“There has been a murder at Regina’s house.  It is Vann Elkins. 

It’s your best friend according to Regina.”

“Oh no.  How could this be?  Are you saying Vann was at Regina’s?  He was killed at Regina’s house?”

“That’s the way I’m hearing it.  Walt, I’m very sorry.  My contact didn’t have any answers.  All he had was questions.”

“Now I know why Vann didn’t show up.  He was supposed to be here at 8:00 to work on our book.”

“Walt, please do not say anything to anybody about this.  I am not supposed to know this.  Vann’s wife hasn’t even been contacted. 

Promise me you will keep this under wraps for now.”

“I understand fully.  I assume it’s okay to talk with Regina about it.  She knows, doesn’t she?”  I asked.

“Of course.  That’s why she is flying home just as soon as she can.  Again, Walt, I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“Thank-you Delton.  I appreciate you calling.”

After the call ended I walked out to the end of the pier, recognizing that my life would never be the same.  I also realized how easy it had seemed to lie and to deceive.  What was happening to me?

The primary aim of the "Novel Excerpts" blog category is to showcase my creative writing, specifically from the novels I've written. Hopefully, these posts will provide a glimpse into my storytelling style, themes, and narrative skills. It's an opportunity to share my artistic expressions and the worlds I've created through my novels.

The Boaz Stenographer, written in 2018, is my fourth novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.

Book Blurb

Walt Shepherd, a 35 year veteran of the White House’s stenographic team, is fired by President Andrew Kane for refusing to lie.

Walt returns to his hometown of Boaz, Alabama and renews his relationship with Regina Gillan, his high school sweetheart, who he had ditched right before graduation to marry the daughter of a prominent local businessman.  Regina has recently moved back to Boaz after forty years in Chicago working at the Tribune.  She is now editor of the Sand Mountain Reporter, a local newspaper.

Walt and Regina’s relationship transforms into a once in life love at the same time they are being immersed in a growing local and national divide between Democrats and traditional Republicans, and extremist Republicans (known as Kanites) who are becoming more dogmatic about the revolution that began during President Kanes campaign.

Walt accepts two part-time jobs.  One as a stenography instructor at Snead State Community College in Boaz, and one as an itinerant stenographer with Rains & Associates out of Birmingham.

Walt later learns the owner of Rains & Associates  is also one of five men who created the Constitution Foundation and is involved in a sinister plot to destroy President Kane, but is using an unorthodox method to achieve its objective.  The Foundation is doing everything it can to prevent President Kane from being reelected in 2020, and is scheming to initiate a civil war that will hopefully restore allegiance to the U.S. Constitution.

While Walt is writing a book, The Coming Civil War, he is, unwittingly, gathering key information for the Constitution Foundation.

Will Walt discover a connection between the Foundation  and the deaths of three U.S. Congressmen in time to save his relationship with Regina, prevent President Kane from being reelected as the defacto head of a Christian theocracy, and the eruption of a civil war that could destroy the Nation ?

Chapter 66

It was dusk.  The dark was pushing the last bit of light from the path we traveled.  Today, it’s job was easy since a misty fog had hovered from Guntersville throughout Boaz.  Regina’s plane had been delayed for nearly two hours in the early afternoon.

She had called at 2:30 p.m. from Huntsville as she was boarding her plane to Chicago.  Noticeably absent from our brief conversation was the love language that normally filled our communications.  We were at a serious crossroads.  Last Tuesday when Zell and Ginger learned that I had not fulfilled my mission to deliver their envelope to Professor Romanov, nor their urgency that he divulge his knowledge of election tampering to the FBI, all hell had broken loose.  And, Regina was seemingly caught in the middle.  She had been summoned to Chicago.  This gave Vann and me the opportunity I wanted to conduct a little search at her house.

Regina, like me, had negotiated a purchase of her parent’s home.  The only difference was her mother came with the deal until her death.  Brenda Sue Gillan was 88 years old and normally would be sitting, alone, in her easy chair before the big screen TV in the living room.  She preferred it over the den.  Today, this late Friday afternoon in the winter of 2019, she was out of town with her daughter Belinda.  They had traveled to Plains, Georgia to attend the funeral of her oldest sister, Linda, who had died at 92.

The forty acres was just one big rock.  It jutted out toward Sand Valley and was the last driveway down Cox Gap Road before dropping off the mountain toward Gadsden.  I had visited here only a handful of times, since the ‘old lady’ as Frankie called her, was always around.  The house smelled of cigarette smoke and urine.  A combination that triggered my gag reflex like no other.  Last weekend, I had made an exception after I made my final decision that I had to see what Regina kept in her home office.  She had been after me to help her stain the huge deck on the backside of the house that overlooked the valley below.  It would be a multi-day project, but we had started a week ago.  I had arranged it so that she had to run an errand for me—Vann called and needed a file at my house concerning our book.  When he called I acted as though I had to run home.  This, without surprise, prompted Regina to volunteer to meet Vann to unlock my back door.  

This had given me the opportunity to scout out the best way to enter the house.  I knew she didn’t have a security system since we had talked about it several times over the past few weeks, given there had been a spat of break-ins.  I had gone into her office and noticed a small safe slid into a bookcase behind her desk.  I started to unlock one of the windows in her study but opted to make it harder by going downstairs to the basement, which was really the first floor, since it was mostly above ground.  I unlocked a window that was up higher than I wanted to maneuver because it was on the backside of a workbench and was shaded by some type of thorny bush on the outside.  I could make it work.

Today, Vann was with me.  It has taken two days to convince him he should help me learn the truth, or at least, attempt to.  He now knows everything I know about Regina’s deception.  I’ve also told him about my connection to Zell and Ginger and the Constitution Foundation.  Vann is most troubled by Regina’s past relationship with Thaddeus Colburn, believing there might be a plot at work that is much more sinister than a local affair.

We arrived.  I’m wearing a thick pair of coveralls to protect me from the thorny bush.  The window was higher than I thought.  I wished I had gone outside to judge instead of looking at it from the inside.  I was glad I had brought a six-foot ladder.  After I got inside and turned my ankle sliding off the counter, Vann and I went upstairs and out on the deck carrying two brushes and a gallon of deck stain.  I had decided that if by chance someone came I could tell them I wanted to surprise Regina and have her deck finished before she returned.  I opened the can and poured a good amount into a paint tray and went back inside.

Vann was already in Regina’s bedroom.  We had discussed his assignment, search through every drawer, under the mattress, over the clothes on a big shelf in a dozen or more shoe boxes I had spotted last Saturday.   His second task, assuming we had time, was to look through a wall of cabinets in the laundry and utility room.  My focus would be Regina’s office.

I spent nearly thirty minutes going through the side drawers of Regina’s huge desk.  These turned out totally uneventful.  The left-hand drawer contained mostly household bills, appliance warranties, and legal documents such as her power of attorney over her mother and living wills for Belinda, Frankie, and Freddie.  The right-hand drawer was filled with files that reached back to Regina’s days at the Chicago Tribune.  I scanned a couple of articles and realized time was getting away too rapidly.  I removed the contents of this whole drawer and put them in one of the backpacks I had brought.

I then turned my attention to the safe.  It took nearly ten minutes, but I was finally able to break open the door after pulling it out of the bookcase and turning it on its side.  It, not doubt, was not a high-quality container or the latch would not have broken.  But, I had used a hefty crow-bar and hammer.  The only thing inside were several journals and two thumb drives.  I placed these in another bookbag and laid it, along with the other one and the crowbar and hammer, in the doorway.  I crossed the office to the windows facing the deck.  There were two bookcases between the two sets of double windows I wanted to inspect.  Just as I squatted down and opened a large cabinet door on the bottom of one of the cabinets I heard a loud blast.

The first thing I thought was a gun had been fired.  The sound had come from Vann’s direction, Regina’s bedroom.  I tried to run down the long hallway, but my ankle slowed me down.  Just as I turned left through her doorway I saw Vann laying at the foot of Regina’s bed.  There was blood coming out his mouth as he lay on his stomach but with his head turned towards me.  At that moment my mind realized that I had been hearing something out on the deck.  The shooter had run over the gallon of deck stain and the paint tray.  He had shouted, ‘oh shit.’  I ran, as best I could, and looked out the storm door that had just pulled shut.  I caught just the glimpse of the back side of a tall and skinny man with army fatigues, a black hoodie and carrying a pistol in one hand and the dark green backpack that I had given Vann to use during his closet search.

I turned and walked back down the hall and into the kitchen and over to the window above the sink.  From there I could see my truck and the man running down the hill towards Cox Gap Road.  It was then that it hit me.  The hell of a mess I was in.  I semi-jogged back to Regina’s bedroom and determined, without any trouble at all, that Vann was dead.  I didn’t touch him, but he had a hole in the back of his head that I could have put my hand into.  I wanted to lean down and hold him, talk him back to life someway.  But, I didn’t.  I had to get out of there.  It was the hardest thing I have ever done.  My mind convinced me I had no choice but to leave this scene just the way it was.  I would only complicate things worse by attempting to move Vann’s body.  I was also convinced that the gunman had not known I was here.  If he had, I had no doubt he would have killed me too.

I walked back to Regina’s study, picked up the two book bags, the crow-bar and hammer, walked down the basement stairs, and outside to my truck.  I decided to turn left onto Cox Gap Road instead of right, which would have taken me straight back to Highway 431.  I felt I needed to take the long way home.  I didn’t want to take a chance that my truck would be seen.  Then it hit me.  The gunman had seen my truck as he raced out of Regina’s and down the driveway.  Oh hell, what a mess.  This cannot lead to anything but trouble.  

I made my way to Interstate 59 and drove north to the Collinsville exit.  By 8:00 p.m., I was at home.  Sick was an understatement.  I spent two hours showering and squatting beside the commode, gagging and spitting.  At 10:05 p.m., I called Regina.

The primary aim of the "Novel Excerpts" blog category is to showcase my creative writing, specifically from the novels I've written. Hopefully, these posts will provide a glimpse into my storytelling style, themes, and narrative skills. It's an opportunity to share my artistic expressions and the worlds I've created through my novels.

The Boaz Stenographer, written in 2018, is my fourth novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.

Book Blurb

Walt Shepherd, a 35 year veteran of the White House’s stenographic team, is fired by President Andrew Kane for refusing to lie.

Walt returns to his hometown of Boaz, Alabama and renews his relationship with Regina Gillan, his high school sweetheart, who he had ditched right before graduation to marry the daughter of a prominent local businessman.  Regina has recently moved back to Boaz after forty years in Chicago working at the Tribune.  She is now editor of the Sand Mountain Reporter, a local newspaper.

Walt and Regina’s relationship transforms into a once in life love at the same time they are being immersed in a growing local and national divide between Democrats and traditional Republicans, and extremist Republicans (known as Kanites) who are becoming more dogmatic about the revolution that began during President Kanes campaign.

Walt accepts two part-time jobs.  One as a stenography instructor at Snead State Community College in Boaz, and one as an itinerant stenographer with Rains & Associates out of Birmingham.

Walt later learns the owner of Rains & Associates  is also one of five men who created the Constitution Foundation and is involved in a sinister plot to destroy President Kane, but is using an unorthodox method to achieve its objective.  The Foundation is doing everything it can to prevent President Kane from being reelected in 2020, and is scheming to initiate a civil war that will hopefully restore allegiance to the U.S. Constitution.

While Walt is writing a book, The Coming Civil War, he is, unwittingly, gathering key information for the Constitution Foundation.

Will Walt discover a connection between the Foundation  and the deaths of three U.S. Congressmen in time to save his relationship with Regina, prevent President Kane from being reelected as the defacto head of a Christian theocracy, and the eruption of a civil war that could destroy the Nation ?

Chapter 65

The Monday after Zell and Ginger had given me the envelope to give to Professor Romanov, I had decided to call his attorney, Micaden Tanner.  That afternoon I had met him at his office and told him, with the agreement our conversation would be kept confidential, about my relationship with the Constitution Foundation and their request for me to visit his client.

Micaden immediately opened the envelope after I told him about how Zell had instructed me on what to say to Romanov about his brother.  The envelope contained gruesome pictures of a man held in chains in what looked like a dungeon.  It was probably a basement somewhere.  Micaden speculated the man was his client’s brother.  After spending another hour or so at Micaden’s office I rode with him to the Marshall County Jail where we met with Romanov and discussed everything I knew about the Constitution Foundation.  I later pondered whether I did the right thing, but it was all triggered by Regina’s deception about the photo and the false testimony by Rayansh Johar. 

Romanov swore that he did not shoot Kip Brewer.

On the drive back to Micaden’s office, he had asked me how much I knew about Regina.  I shared our story and realized that I really didn’t know a lot of what had happened in her life from 1972 until the later part of 2017, other than a few bits and pieces.  When pressed by Micaden, all I could tell him was that after high school she spent nearly a year in some rehab in Kentucky, years later she had attended the University of Chicago earning a degree in Journalism, and then had gotten a job at the Chicago Tribune where she had worked until retirement in the Fall of 2017.

Micaden said that he was a big believer in private investigations and encouraged me to allow him to hire a company in Atlanta that he had used over the years.  At the time I agreed to his request I didn’t realize what a major, life-changing decision I had made.  That was three weeks ago.

Micaden had been introduced to Callahan & Associates of Atlanta in 1980, when he started his legal career at the firm of Downs, Gambol & Stevens.  The third-generation private investigative firm assigned former FBI agent Bobby Sorrells to researching Regina Gillan.  Yesterday, I had met Bobby and Micaden at his office.  I don’t think fiction writer John Grisham could have imagined such a story.

I had forgotten that Regina was best friends in high School with Juanita Tillman, Wade Tillman’s sister, the First Baptist Church of Christ pastor who had recently been sent, along with Boaz mayor James Adams, to federal prison in Georgia.  Juanita was Warren Tillman’s aunt.  Wade and Juanita were classmates of Regina and me although Juanita was ten months younger than Wade.  She should have been a year behind in school, but her parents wanted the siblings in the same grade.  Juanita was extremely intelligent so holding her back for that reason wasn’t a concern. 

After mine and Regina’s break-up and after we all had graduated, her and Juanita left town.  Initially, Juanita had told her parents that her and Regina were going on an extended trip to celebrate such an important life milestone.  Bobby shared how he had found Juanita living in Beattyville, Kentucky, a small, coal-mining town in Eastern Kentucky.  According to several government reports, this town was one of the poorest places in the country.

Juanita told Bobby that her and Regina had wound up in Beattyville two weeks after leaving Boaz.  Something about them wanting to experience poverty.  She said it was Regina’s idea.  She wanted her outer world to match how she felt inside.  Juanita didn’t remember exactly how they had chosen this place over dozens of other similar towns throughout the Appalachian Mountains of Kentucky and West Virginia.

The two girls rented a garage apartment that belonged to Mavis Colburn.  Her son was Thaddeus Colburn, who was his mother’s pride and joy and the brightest student to ever graduate from Lee County High School.  The three teenagers became fast friends and spent almost every waking hour together until Thaddeus moved to Chicago to attend the University of Chicago on a full academic scholarship.  That Fall, Regina and Juanita were headed to visit Thaddeus and were both hurt when they were t-boned by a pickup truck outside Winchester, Kentucky.  

Long story short.  The girls eventually recovered but they got addicted to pain killers.  Thaddeus felt responsible and, with the help of a friendly professor at the University, arranged treatment at a Rehab facility on the north side of Chicago.  There, Juanita and Thaddeus fell in love.  After another year, they moved into an apartment with Thaddeus, who by then, had made friends with a set of twin brothers from Dubois, Wyoming.  Little did the two girls know that the three guys were on the fast track to becoming White Supremacists.  The five spent most every Saturday afternoon at an old rock quarry in Lake Forest, a small community north of Chicago.  This is where Regina became an expert marksman.  

Juanita told Bobby that she and Thaddeus eventually broke up and she moved out.  She hinted that it had something to do with Regina, maybe she had squirreled her way in between the two lovers.  Juanita went her own way, enrolled at the University and earned a Master of Arts in Social Work.  After graduating she took a job with the State of Kentucky and moved back to Beattyville where she worked to help alleviate drug addiction and poverty.  She never married.

Thaddeus’s two friends moved out.  Regina enrolled in the School of Journalism about the time Thaddeus graduated and entered graduate school at DePaul University School of Law.  Juanita was unable to provide much information after she moved out but referred Bobby to Landon and Logan Miller, the twins who lived with Thaddeus. Bobby found them living back in their hometown of Dubois, Wyoming.  Neither had married but were earning a living on the ranch their parents had left them.  They shared how close they had become in college of ‘going off the deep end’ as they called it.  They said Thaddeus, even at age 20, knew what he wanted.  And, that was to return America to its roots.  Logan shared how knowledgeable and well-read Thaddeus was on American history.  Landon said that he and his brother moved out when Thaddeus started talking revolution and the need to spread the message that America was created by white males and unless the country returned to its roots, it would fail.  Both Landon and Logan agreed Thaddeus wouldn’t hesitate to use violence.  Logan added, “we spent too much time on the firing range not to know what was in Thaddeus’ heart.  He wanted a Thomas Jefferson type in the White House.  He would say, ‘Nixon, Ford, and Carter, together, were not as smart as Mr. Jefferson.’” Bobby’s investigation had gone cold after his conversation with Landon and Logan.  He did learn that Regina had graduated in 1978 and had gone to work for the Chicago Tribune as a runner but had worked her way up the ladder until she became Editor in Chief in the late nineties.  Bobby did not know what had happened to Regina’s and Thaddeus’ relationship.  He had checked State Marriage Licenses and the two had never married in Illinois.  He reported that Thaddeus had gone on to start a public interest law firm, and the Constitution Foundation.  Bobby couldn’t, so far, find anything that would make him believe Thaddeus had acted out in any illegal way.

Bobby had promised to keep digging.

The primary aim of the "Novel Excerpts" blog category is to showcase my creative writing, specifically from the novels I've written. Hopefully, these posts will provide a glimpse into my storytelling style, themes, and narrative skills. It's an opportunity to share my artistic expressions and the worlds I've created through my novels.

The Boaz Stenographer, written in 2018, is my fourth novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.

Book Blurb

Walt Shepherd, a 35 year veteran of the White House’s stenographic team, is fired by President Andrew Kane for refusing to lie.

Walt returns to his hometown of Boaz, Alabama and renews his relationship with Regina Gillan, his high school sweetheart, who he had ditched right before graduation to marry the daughter of a prominent local businessman.  Regina has recently moved back to Boaz after forty years in Chicago working at the Tribune.  She is now editor of the Sand Mountain Reporter, a local newspaper.

Walt and Regina’s relationship transforms into a once in life love at the same time they are being immersed in a growing local and national divide between Democrats and traditional Republicans, and extremist Republicans (known as Kanites) who are becoming more dogmatic about the revolution that began during President Kanes campaign.

Walt accepts two part-time jobs.  One as a stenography instructor at Snead State Community College in Boaz, and one as an itinerant stenographer with Rains & Associates out of Birmingham.

Walt later learns the owner of Rains & Associates  is also one of five men who created the Constitution Foundation and is involved in a sinister plot to destroy President Kane, but is using an unorthodox method to achieve its objective.  The Foundation is doing everything it can to prevent President Kane from being reelected in 2020, and is scheming to initiate a civil war that will hopefully restore allegiance to the U.S. Constitution.

While Walt is writing a book, The Coming Civil War, he is, unwittingly, gathering key information for the Constitution Foundation.

Will Walt discover a connection between the Foundation  and the deaths of three U.S. Congressmen in time to save his relationship with Regina, prevent President Kane from being reelected as the defacto head of a Christian theocracy, and the eruption of a civil war that could destroy the Nation ?

Chapter 64

Before I arrived, I had decided not to say anything to anyone, especially Regina, about what I had learned at the Quik-Mart.  Ginger had told me to park behind the Sand Mountain Reporter building and to come in the unlocked back door.  As I was walking down the hall towards Regina’s office I could hear laughter.  When I turned inside the doorway I could see Ginger, Zell, and Regina all sitting at her round table in the corner.

Zell saw me first and motioned me over.  “Walt, good to see you. 

Thanks for coming on such short notice.  Please join us.”

Regina got up and gave me her seat and she moved over into the seat closest to the wall.  “Did you get a nap?”  She said as I sat down trying to maintain a mild, unfettered face, as I shook my head in the negative.

“Walt, are you okay?  You look at little pale.”  Ginger asked.

“I’m fine.  Just feeling like I’m on the outside looking in.”  I said looking at Regina and then back to Ginger.

Zell reached over and patted my back and said, “Let me tell you a little story.  By the way, it’s why we were all laughing when you walked in.  We were talking about the first time Ginger and I met Regina in Chicago.  It was at the Kane Hotel.  It was right after the 2000 Presidential election and the Florida recount between Bush and Gore had just been completed a few weeks earlier and now George W. Bush was President.  We three were there, Regina separately of course, attending an all-day lecture by Illinois Senator and University of Chicago Professor Barack Obama.  I cannot recall the exact name of the conference but the part that stuck with me after all these years was Obama’s contention that the U.S. Constitution needed to be amended to include substantive qualifications for someone to be elected President.  He suggested ….”

Ginger jumped in and said, “Zell, too much detail.  During lunch, Zell and I sat down by Regina.  It was simply fate that put us together.  After we started eating, the typical questions started to roll out.  What do you do?  Where are you from?  That sort of thing.  Come to find out Regina was from Boaz.  And I was from Chicago.  She had gone to college at the University of Chicago and I had gone to college at the University of Alabama.  We were laughing over how much I still talk like a true Southerner and Regina’s brogue is true Chicago.”  

Zell wasn’t finished so he said, “over the next several years Ginger and I had several opportunities to see and talk with Regina.  It was mainly over cases we were dealing with and she was either researching or writing an editorial piece.  You might not recall, but at the time, Zell and I worked for a public interest law firm, one created by Thaddeus Colburn, the man who started the Constitution Foundation.”

I was growing tired of all this stage setting.  “Okay, it’s good to learn, for the first time I might add, that you all know each other.  You said it was important that we meet.  Can we get to that?”

“Yes, sure, okay.”  Zell said.  “We have reason to believe that Professor Romanov might need a little motivation to talk.  We want you to meet with him at the County jail.”

“Why don’t you meet with him?”  I said.

“Walt, I take it that you are a little pissed.  You should know the answer to that.  Is something bothering you?”  Ginger asked.

“To be totally open, yes there is.  I feel like I am being kept in the dark about what is truly going on.  I sense I might be treading into waters that are shark-filled.  Can you tell me why I feel this way?”  I said.

“Fair enough.”  Zell said standing up.  I recalled from our meeting in Birmingham that he liked to pace while he talked.  “Romanov may be the single most important man in the world.  What I mean is he may know more about how Russia manipulated the 2016 Presidential election than anyone else.  We need him to tell the FBI the truth, the full truth.  We doubt he will do that without a little old-fashioned arm twisting.”

“What are you suggesting I tell him?”

“That his brother, Anatoly, is in grave danger of losing his freedom if he does not confess.”  Zell said.

“What am I to tell him about who is sending this message?”

“Tell him Thaddeus Colburn promises to help him if he helps himself now.  Tell him that he can use anything he knows to make a deal, but he needs to confess to the murder of Kip Brewer.”

“Don’t you think it looks a little odd for me, the court reporter in his case, to go visit him in jail?”  I said.

“It doesn’t if you have a good reason.  Create that reason.  You are creative.  Also, when you go, give Romanov this envelope.”  Ginger said looking over at Regina who had said nothing substantial since we began.

“What is this?  It’s a few photos that will get Romanov to thinking.”  Zell said.

I finally told Zell and Ginger that I would think about their request.  That’s when they offered me a $20,000 bonus.  Again, I told them I would think about it.  Driving home my thoughts were certain that I was still in the dark, that there was something big I didn’t know about.  I wanted and needed to talk to Regina, but she said it would be too late for her to come by after being delayed on her usual Sunday afternoon work of completing the final layout for Tuesday’s paper.  Maybe being alone was what I needed.  No doubt I had to try and figure out what Regina was up to.  I felt in my gut that her lying about the photograph and its source was directly related to what I had just been asked to do.  I also knew that I would screw up royally if I acted on a gut feeling.  I had to have some proof.  I had to hide my feelings at least long enough to snoop around and find out what Regina was up to. 

The primary aim of the "Novel Excerpts" blog category is to showcase my creative writing, specifically from the novels I've written. Hopefully, these posts will provide a glimpse into my storytelling style, themes, and narrative skills. It's an opportunity to share my artistic expressions and the worlds I've created through my novels.

The Boaz Stenographer, written in 2018, is my fourth novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.

Book Blurb

Walt Shepherd, a 35 year veteran of the White House’s stenographic team, is fired by President Andrew Kane for refusing to lie.

Walt returns to his hometown of Boaz, Alabama and renews his relationship with Regina Gillan, his high school sweetheart, who he had ditched right before graduation to marry the daughter of a prominent local businessman.  Regina has recently moved back to Boaz after forty years in Chicago working at the Tribune.  She is now editor of the Sand Mountain Reporter, a local newspaper.

Walt and Regina’s relationship transforms into a once in life love at the same time they are being immersed in a growing local and national divide between Democrats and traditional Republicans, and extremist Republicans (known as Kanites) who are becoming more dogmatic about the revolution that began during President Kanes campaign.

Walt accepts two part-time jobs.  One as a stenography instructor at Snead State Community College in Boaz, and one as an itinerant stenographer with Rains & Associates out of Birmingham.

Walt later learns the owner of Rains & Associates  is also one of five men who created the Constitution Foundation and is involved in a sinister plot to destroy President Kane, but is using an unorthodox method to achieve its objective.  The Foundation is doing everything it can to prevent President Kane from being reelected in 2020, and is scheming to initiate a civil war that will hopefully restore allegiance to the U.S. Constitution.

While Walt is writing a book, The Coming Civil War, he is, unwittingly, gathering key information for the Constitution Foundation.

Will Walt discover a connection between the Foundation  and the deaths of three U.S. Congressmen in time to save his relationship with Regina, prevent President Kane from being reelected as the defacto head of a Christian theocracy, and the eruption of a civil war that could destroy the Nation ?

Chapter 63

Regina and I went to church Sunday morning and afterwards grabbed each of us a salad at Wendy’s drive-through.  We ate at the bar without much conversation other than a little dialog over Pastor Warren’s sermon.  She left at 1:00 p.m. with me still a little pissed that she hadn’t told me earlier about a surprise Board meeting at the newspaper.  

I decided to use this time following-up on a lingering question I had ever since Micaden made such a big deal out of it at the Romanov preliminary hearing.  The issue had bothered me enough to cause me last Friday morning before I left the courthouse to make a copy of the photo that had been introduced by District Attorney Abbott, the one Regina had discovered at Aurora Quik-Mart.  I had also made a copy of Reyansh Johar’s photo. 

He was the authenticating witness for the photograph that allegedly was made by the Quik-Mart’s security system. 

Having Johar’s photograph available was unusual, or so I had heard.  Judge Broadside had a new policy of having his bailiff photograph every witness who testified in his courtroom.  Apparently, the Judge had been dupped a couple of years ago in a highly publicized drug trafficking case—so I was told by Nancy Teegle, Judge Cannon’s court reporter.

I drove to Aurora and went inside.  The clerk, a woman of Indian descent, maybe thirty years old wearing a sleeveless top that was low cut revealing a healthy cleavage.  She was waiting on two men who seemed to be regulars and were flirting, asking her if the owner was going to bring back the girly magazines.  As I considered whether to buy a Payday or a Baby Ruth candy bar, I recalled a girl in college who was not really a friend, but we had shared several classes.   She was from India and always wore a sari with a choli top, a long skirt called a lehenga and a dupatta scarf.  The entire outfit was called a gagra choli.  It was strange that this unique memory flooded my mind.

After the two men left I introduced myself, borrowing some credibility from my courthouse affiliation, embellishing it just a little.  She was cordial and spoke very good English.  She didn’t resist cooperating in the least.  What she said confounded me.  The Aurora Quik-Mart doesn’t have a security system and she had never seen the man in the photo that had been identified in court as Anton Romanov.  Furthermore, Reyansh Johar never worked at the Quik-Mart.  She said she had seen him but was sure he hadn’t worked here during the five years she had managed the store for Belton Howard who also owned a large poultry operation across the road.  I asked her if she had any idea how I might find Mr. Johar.  She said, “Indians are a pretty close group around here.  I could ask around for you.  Try to gain you some contact information.”  

I left my card, paid for both candy bars, thanked her profusely, and returned to my truck.  All I could do was sat there.  I was no longer interested in the taste of something sweet.  My mouth was bitter and strangely, I wanted it to linger.  For the first time since I returned from Washington, D.C. to live in Boaz, as far as I knew, Regina had deceived me.  I continued to sit with my windows up, without starting the engine, with the interior air becoming hotter and staler.  What was going on?  Why had Regina lied?  I started feeling nauseous, so I walked back inside the store and bought a Coke.  I was just about to walk out when the clerk said, “Mr. Shepherd, try this number.”  I walked back to the counter and she handed me an index card with ‘Lakeview Tackle & Grocery, Guntersville (256-582-1949).’  I looked at her and she said, “I think your Reyansh Johar works there.”  Again, I thanked her and returned to my truck.  

Just as I was pulling out onto Highway 179 my phone vibrated. It was Ginger.  “Hello.”

“Hi Walt.  I know this is short notice but Zel and I are in town and wanted to know if we could see you.  It’s rather important.  We’ll make it worth your time.”

“What time are you thinking about?”  I said.

“Could you possibly meet now?”

“I really don’t have any plans the rest of the afternoon.  Regina is at the newspaper, at a meeting.”

“I know, she is with us now.  The Board meeting just ended.  Can you meet with us here, in a few minutes?

“I can be there in about twenty minutes.”  I said.

“Okay, see you soon.”  Ginger said.

As I drove back to Boaz all I could think about was how quick life could change.  My mind wanted to go crazy and speculated the deeper meaning of the connection between the Quik-Mart, quick that is, and my thought about how quick things could change, but I avoided that surreal pondering.  Not only had I just learned that Regina had deceived me, she had lied under oath at the court hearing.  And now, I learned there is a connection between her, the Sand Mountain Reporter, Ginger, Zel and the Constitution Foundation.  That’s also deceiving.  Why on earth had Regina not told me that Ginger and Zel are on the Board at the newspaper?  I realized they might not be on the Board, but something is up.   I someway pushed all of that aside, trying not to jump to any conclusion, hoping and praying, of a sort, that Regina had a good and redeeming reason for lying.

The primary aim of the "Novel Excerpts" blog category is to showcase my creative writing, specifically from the novels I've written. Hopefully, these posts will provide a glimpse into my storytelling style, themes, and narrative skills. It's an opportunity to share my artistic expressions and the worlds I've created through my novels.

The Boaz Stenographer, written in 2018, is my fourth novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.

Book Blurb

Walt Shepherd, a 35 year veteran of the White House’s stenographic team, is fired by President Andrew Kane for refusing to lie.

Walt returns to his hometown of Boaz, Alabama and renews his relationship with Regina Gillan, his high school sweetheart, who he had ditched right before graduation to marry the daughter of a prominent local businessman.  Regina has recently moved back to Boaz after forty years in Chicago working at the Tribune.  She is now editor of the Sand Mountain Reporter, a local newspaper.

Walt and Regina’s relationship transforms into a once in life love at the same time they are being immersed in a growing local and national divide between Democrats and traditional Republicans, and extremist Republicans (known as Kanites) who are becoming more dogmatic about the revolution that began during President Kanes campaign.

Walt accepts two part-time jobs.  One as a stenography instructor at Snead State Community College in Boaz, and one as an itinerant stenographer with Rains & Associates out of Birmingham.

Walt later learns the owner of Rains & Associates  is also one of five men who created the Constitution Foundation and is involved in a sinister plot to destroy President Kane, but is using an unorthodox method to achieve its objective.  The Foundation is doing everything it can to prevent President Kane from being reelected in 2020, and is scheming to initiate a civil war that will hopefully restore allegiance to the U.S. Constitution.

While Walt is writing a book, The Coming Civil War, he is, unwittingly, gathering key information for the Constitution Foundation.

Will Walt discover a connection between the Foundation  and the deaths of three U.S. Congressmen in time to save his relationship with Regina, prevent President Kane from being reelected as the defacto head of a Christian theocracy, and the eruption of a civil war that could destroy the Nation ?

Chapter 62

Vann and I were supposed to meet at 6:00 a.m. Saturday morning.  He was late.  It had been three weeks since we had gotten together to work on our book.  It wasn’t that we hadn’t made any progress since we both had drafted a separate chapter apiece.  Today, we needed to deal with an overall issue that had been bothering me ever since I had read a Facebook post by Franklin Graham, the son of the famous evangelist Billy Graham.

Franklin Graham had asked Christians to pray for a man by the name of Jack Phillips.  It seems he was involved with a case that the U.S. Supreme Court was soon to decide.  Back in 2012, Charlie Craig and David Mullins, a gay couple, had come to Phillips’ bakery and asked him to create for them a wedding cake to celebrate their marriage.  Phillips refused saying he does not create wedding cakes for same-sex weddings because of his religious beliefs.  Craig and Mullins sued and the case, after a long journey through the Colorado court system, wound up at the U.S. Supreme Court.  Phillips’ legal argument is that to be forced to make a wedding cake for a same-sex couple would violate his constitutional rights to freedom of speech and the free exercise of religion.  

Graham’s prayer request had bothered me.  I had hardly slept the past two nights.  The first night I tossed and turned bothered primarily by the arrogance of Jack Phillips.  Why make the couple’s request a religious issue at all?  Wasn’t he in business to make a living?  For God’s sake, it’s a wedding cake.  The couple wasn’t asking Mr. Phillips to sacrifice his daughter.  Also, for hours, between a nap or two, I got caught up imagining what if all the other businesses in the area took the same approach as Phillips.  What if Walmart refused to sell groceries to him, because he was a Christian?  What if the local hospital emergency room refused medical care to him when Phillips cut his hand and was bleeding to death.  Again, that was night one.  During the second night, my thoughts turned to the bigger picture.  This case represented something much bigger than a baker refusing to make a wedding cake for a gay couple.  This case was about the complete reconstitution of Christianity.  

During the second night my mind couldn’t get away from the question, what was Graham’s overriding purpose in making the prayer request?  He had said in his post, “I like people who stand up for what they believe and don’t back down in this world of compromise.”  To me, the most important thing for Graham to accomplish was to win a battle, to make sure homosexuals were treated as second-class citizens, that they, like Black people in the Sixties, were deformed, retarded, or otherwise inferior to God’s chosen.  I realized the time had come that Christianity was no longer about the Great Commission of sharing the redeeming message of Jesus Christ.  To Graham, the law be damned, the hell with the Declaration of Independence and the U.S. Constitution. 

God’s law must triumph over all.

Vann arrived at 6:20 a.m.  “Sorry I’m late, the drive-through line was all the way out in the highway.”

“No problem.  It gave me some time to organize my thoughts for today.”

“Oh no, I suspect I better sit down.”  Vann said handing me a giant sausage biscuit and sitting down at the bar.

I sat across from Vann and started eating.  I also briefed him on the Phillips case and how my initial thoughts had transformed.  “I know we have a pretty firm outline for our book, but I think we are missing a key theme.”

“What’s that?  Do you have any milk?”  Vann asked.

I poured us both a glass of milk and sat back down.  “Our book title, The Coming Civil War, is grounded on two premises.  One is that President Kane has tapped into a voting block that is dangerous, mainly because of their ignorance of American history and the Constitution, and the structure and functioning of our three branches of government.  The second premise is that Kane was not legally elected.  What I think our book is missing is the driving force behind Kane’s supporters.  They support Kane to gain control of our federal government and convert it to a Christian theocracy.  Herein, lies the real danger.  The coming civil war is between Christians and non-Christians.”  I said taking the last bite of my biscuit.

“That’s too broad.  I think you want to say, Protestant Christians.  I don’t think all Christians have the same ambition.”  Vann added.

“Good.  Yes, I agree.”  I said as I let Vann read the Franklin Graham post about baker Phillips.

“I’ve never liked Graham, Franklin Graham.  I always liked his father but until Kane came along there was just something, something I couldn’t really describe, that I didn’t like about him.  But, when he became an outspoken, diehard Kane supporter, I knew he would do anything to sell his wares.”

“Good way to put it.  I believe he is the dead-on representative of the Kane Tribe.  He’s not interested in traditional evangelism, where his controlling mission is to spread Christ’s gospel and see millions come to salvation.  He is after his own glory and seeing his interpretation of the Bible becomes the law of the land.”  I said.

“Let’s see if we are on the same page here.  You are saying that what we are observing through the Boaz Stenographer column comments is indicative of what we are gleaning from Franklin Graham’s Facebook post about the wedding cake case?”

“Yes, but continue, cite an example or two.  That will let me know if you’re with me on this.”  I said.

“We’re seeing a lot of posts that clearly set out an us versus them attitude.  One guy always includes a remark such as ‘stupid liberals.’  What he means is that everyone who doesn’t believe as he does is on the other team, or fights for the opposing army.”  Vann said walking his empty milk glass over to the sink.

“Correct, but don’t forget to add.  Your guy, like Graham, lives knee-deep in Southern Baptist Christianity.  They see they are on a mission.  They don’t give a rat’s ass about any human who isn’t a believer in the virgin born Jesus Christ.  Everyone else be damned.”

“How does this change our outline?  Don’t you think that’s something we better address before we go any further?”  Vann said.

“I agree.”  We spent the next several hours working on our outline.  Deleting, adding, modifying.  When Vann left a little before 1:00 p.m., we both agreed the coming war would be between superstition and reason.  It scared both of us because we had grown up face-to-face with folks who believed in the literal interpretation of Adam and Eve and the Genesis creation story.  No wonder Jack Phillips refused to make a wedding cake for a gay couple. 

The primary aim of the "Novel Excerpts" blog category is to showcase my creative writing, specifically from the novels I've written. Hopefully, these posts will provide a glimpse into my storytelling style, themes, and narrative skills. It's an opportunity to share my artistic expressions and the worlds I've created through my novels.

The Boaz Stenographer, written in 2018, is my fourth novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.

Book Blurb

Walt Shepherd, a 35 year veteran of the White House’s stenographic team, is fired by President Andrew Kane for refusing to lie.

Walt returns to his hometown of Boaz, Alabama and renews his relationship with Regina Gillan, his high school sweetheart, who he had ditched right before graduation to marry the daughter of a prominent local businessman.  Regina has recently moved back to Boaz after forty years in Chicago working at the Tribune.  She is now editor of the Sand Mountain Reporter, a local newspaper.

Walt and Regina’s relationship transforms into a once in life love at the same time they are being immersed in a growing local and national divide between Democrats and traditional Republicans, and extremist Republicans (known as Kanites) who are becoming more dogmatic about the revolution that began during President Kanes campaign.

Walt accepts two part-time jobs.  One as a stenography instructor at Snead State Community College in Boaz, and one as an itinerant stenographer with Rains & Associates out of Birmingham.

Walt later learns the owner of Rains & Associates  is also one of five men who created the Constitution Foundation and is involved in a sinister plot to destroy President Kane, but is using an unorthodox method to achieve its objective.  The Foundation is doing everything it can to prevent President Kane from being reelected in 2020, and is scheming to initiate a civil war that will hopefully restore allegiance to the U.S. Constitution.

While Walt is writing a book, The Coming Civil War, he is, unwittingly, gathering key information for the Constitution Foundation.

Will Walt discover a connection between the Foundation  and the deaths of three U.S. Congressmen in time to save his relationship with Regina, prevent President Kane from being reelected as the defacto head of a Christian theocracy, and the eruption of a civil war that could destroy the Nation ?

Chapter 61

It never failed.  Every time I saw Regina I was like a kid in a candy story.  Forgive the cliché, but the kid wasn’t just any kid.  This was a young boy who had never been to any type store, let alone a candy store.  But, the smart little fellow had read many an article and story about candy stores, and heard his parents and grandparents share their experiences lingering and sampling.  To say I was excited, no not just sexually, when I saw the adorable, drop-dead gorgeous Regina, was the understatement of the year. This seemingly couldn’t be better.  Regina made sure it was because she always seemed happy to see me in return.  

After I changed clothes, we walked around the pond with Sandi close beside us, but sometimes running ahead to fetch a tennis ball that I kept in a bucket nailed to a fence post.  The weather was cool but not cold, so we sat in our two chairs at the end of the pier.  We held hands as Sandi, panting, lay between us.  For at least thirty minutes we sat and took turns gazing at each other and then toward the stars making their way into the night sky.

“Do you ever have days you wish you could run away?”  Regina broke the silence moving her chair a little closer to mine.

“About every day, especially now that I’ve taken on a full-time job.  Okay, let’s hear it.  What’s going on?”  I said using my right thumb to caress her left index finger.

“It seems I’m caught right slap dab in the middle of a pot of competing vipers.  Ever since Sandra Donaldson’s murder the website comments have grown more vicious.  Directly accusing me and the newspaper of fostering hate in what once was a unified, peaceful little city.”

“How can people be so ignorant?  First, this city has always been run by just a handful of families and even though much of the dislike, even hatred, was there, maybe unspoken, but it’s been around all our lives.

“There is a difference now.  Ever since I took over the Sand Mountain Reporter you know I’ve been clear about its purpose, to expand the dialogue, to bring in new ideas.  You know, locals, most of them, are so extremely conservative politically, and so fundamentalist religiously, they think everything contrary to their staple of meat and potatoes is liberal and therefore an assault on their way of life.”

“What’s the Donaldson murder got to do with it?”  I ask.

“A few commenters are saying there are rumors her death could not have been caused by a local, that it had to be a liberal.”

“So, let me see if I understand.  Locals don’t believe there are any liberals living in Boaz?”

“Pretty much.  Really, they believe there are a few around, Dean Naylor types, they call them, but locals treat them as foreigners.  Strange, isn’t it?”

“They actually mentioned Dean Naylor?”

“Yep.  Here’s one thing that has me flustered.  Two commenters today said the death of Brian Steel is probably the work of the same killer.”

“How on earth could they think that?  I thought his death, tragic as it was, was clearly an accident.”

“I thought so too until I talked with Delton today.  He said that his source, you know the one in the DA’s office, says there is a possibility Brian’s death was murder.”

“How?”

“During the initial investigation, the State Forensics team found a hydraulic hose had come off its fitting.  The clamp that was supposed to hold it tight was loose.  They concluded it was an oversight because the company that maintains Sand Mountain Tire’s hydraulic lift system had inspected everything just two days before Brian was killed.  Now, it seems that company, Taylor Hydraulics, has produced a video that shows all connections were in perfect order.  Seems like a couple of years ago they had started videoing all their inspections.  Another accident over in Huntsville prompted them to start this procedure.”

“So, locals are saying that Brian was murdered.  I still don’t see the connection with the Donaldson murder.”

“One guy, Tommy Bowden, no Bolton, said Brian and Sandra usually commented on each other’s Facebook posts.  He said the two had a big following and always garnered a ton of Likes for every post.  Seems like Brian and Sandra, even though they knew each other from high school, didn’t have a real relationship.”

“Funny, you say it that way, ‘real relationship.’  Isn’t that what life has come to?  Facebook defines who we are.  We know people only from a distance.  My book needs to include at least a theory on how this will fit with the coming civil war.”

“Okay, don’t start getting philosophical on me.  Now to the scary part.  Someone else, I can’t think who, I know she was a girl.” “Most are.”  I said.

“Funny.  She said everyone needs to be careful, that Boaz might have a serial killer on the loose.”

“And you think that is scary?  Are you serious?”

“I know most locals are missing a screw or two, but I’ve never said they were stupid.  They certainly have a narrow, often unreasonable way of thinking, but, you know, they might be able to spot a pattern before anyone else.”

“Interesting you say that.  I’ve been doing some research that seems to prove religious people are more prone than others to see patterns.  One writer I read said that usually the patterns are simple coincidences.  He used the example of someone’s praying appears to clearly show God intervened.  Like, a person has cancer and then he doesn’t.  The writer, and I totally agree, says it shouldn’t be surprising that this would sometimes occur, given the millions of times people pray and the millions of people contract cancer.  The writer is also clear that not once has someone prayed for someone who had lost a limb and then the limb grew back.”

“That would make me a believer for sure.”  Regina said.

“Me too.  But, the writer said that his research does show that these people, these religious, praying people, appear to be better able to spot true patterns.  He attributed it to some natural phenomenon, something to do with dopamine levels.”

“Aren’t you cold.  I’m freezing.  Let’s go in.”  Regina said giving me that sexy look in her eyes that always turned me to putty.