Novel Excerpts–The Boaz Stenographer, Chapter 46

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 46

Friday morning, we left the Hilton Garden Hotel in a rush.  We wanted to be home by noon if possible.  We had packed our bags last night.  All we had to do this morning was pull on our clothes and brush our teeth.  Regina grabbed us a cup of coffee as I checked out and paid our bill.  We tossed our bags in the back of the truck under the camper shell and were on I-75 North by 5:15 a.m.  It was not until nearly 7:00 a.m., as we took Exit 186 in Forsyth headed to a Waffle House for breakfast, that Regina pulled today’s Atlanta Constitution from her travel bag.  She nearly screamed, “Kyle Turner has been murdered.” 

On her lap, I saw the front page and the above-the-fold article.  It looked like a lakeside photo.  “I can’t believe you didn’t notice this when you picked up the newspaper as we were leaving the room.”  I said turning left onto Juliette Road.  My words lingered as Regina sat silent.  Passing under the Interstate over-path I could see the Waffle House just ahead on the right.

“There were a couple of flyers on top of the newspaper and I just picked the whole stack up and shoved them into my bag.  We were in such a hurry I didn’t even glance at the paper.”

“What does it say?  How did it happen?  Where and when did it happen?”  I said.

“Hold on, let me read a little.”  I parked in the last spot in the parking lot.  The place was packed.

Regina read for several minutes, opening the paper two times to complete the article and re-glance at the ending on another page inside.  “He and his brother-in-law went fishing at the Paradise Fishing Area.  Right in the area we had gone Tuesday and Thursday.  You remember the Carrington’s talking about the big Lake right behind them, through the woods. Seems like Kyle, the two of them, have had a standing trip to Lake Patrick, that lake is kind of to the west of Lake Bobben, that’s it, the lake closest to the Carrington’s.  Both their bodies were found a little before dark yesterday afternoon.  The article doesn’t say how they were killed.  It listed all the law enforcement agencies, obviously including the FBI, who were to start a search beginning at daylight this morning.”

We walked inside the Waffle House and waited as a waitress was cleaning off the only available table.  “This is getting very troubling.  Three murders now of U.S. Congressmen.  All I can think about is the backlash Mr. Turner endured as he tried to wrap up his speech at Fulwood Park Wednesday afternoon.”  I said sitting down at the booth and glancing at the Menu.

“I don’t buy it.  This sure doesn’t seem like a spontaneous killing.  Somebody from the Fourth of July rally and celebration just happened upon Kyle and his brother-in-law the next day, yesterday, at Lake Patrick?  No, this was a carefully planned assassination.  I just feel it.”  Regina said, again turning and folding the newspaper to an inside page.

“Now that I’ve thought about it, I see what you’re saying.  Somewhere, someone, some group of folks are planning and executing a sinister plot.  A plot to empower President Kane to truly have control of the U.S. government.  You do see that every one of the three murdered Congressmen were enemies of Kane?”

“I do.” Regina said as we gave our orders to a frazzled waitress who was simultaneously jotting down our orders, pouring coffee for the man sitting directly behind Regina at the end of the bar, and saying goodbye to two heavily tattooed men walking away from the booth across the aisle.  

As the waitress walked away I said, “what do you keep looking at. 

That’s three times you’ve read the second page of the article.”

“It’s just so sad.  The reporter said that Kyle and his wife were high school sweethearts and would have celebrated their thirtieth wedding anniversary next week.  I guess I just was a little jealous.”  Regina said wiping tears from her eyes.

“Heartbreaking.  How quickly life can change.  By the way,” I said reaching for Regina’s hand, “I wish with all my heart that you and I were celebrating forty-five years of marriage.  Unfortunately, because of my stupidity, we’re not.  But, we are here now.  All I can do, my once in life love, is give you all my love now.  I’m so very thankful that you are in my life.”  I almost felt like an over-the-top romantic.  Until I saw Regina’s reaction.

“Having you, now, in my life, I am the happiest woman in the world.  Walt Shepherd, thanks for bringing me with you to Tifton.”

We spent the next thirty minutes eating waffles and bacon, not saying a single word, just exchanging glances and smiles.  In fact, we didn’t talk much during the entire drive home.

At 12:30 p.m., we drove into Shepherd’s Cove, pulled around to the back porch, and unloaded our luggage from under the camper shell.  After Regina went inside to pee she hugged my neck, thanked me again for inviting her, said she loved me, and drove off to the Sand Mountain Reporter.  I walked around to the back of the trailer and lowered the walk-on gate to allow the furniture a little breathing room.  My cell phone vibrated in my pocket just I was walking up the back-porch stairs.

“Hello.”

“Where are you?”  Vann said.  I could hear someone in the background, above a multitude of noises, say, ‘that’ll be eight dollars and forty-four cents.’”

“I’m at home.  We just got back.”

“Can I run by?  I have something to tell you.”  Vann said.

“Can it wait.  I’m tired and I have a depo job at 3:00.  It might be 3:30.”

“What about afterwards? I could bring a pizza.”

“That sounds good.  Also, how about bringing your grandson or someone to help unload some furniture?”  I said sitting down in my lounge chair.

 “Furniture?  I thought you and Regina had been to Tifton for a little vacation.”

“We have.  It’s a long story.  We rented a trailer and brought back a new bedroom suite.  Antique.  Expensive.”

“Oh boy.  Walt, my friend, you are now officially a slave.  You do know that when you agree with a woman to buy a bed, it’s all over.” “Shut up.  Come around six-thirty.  Bring Deb if you want. 

Regina will probably be back by 7:00 or so.  I’ve got to go.” 

“Will do.  See you before 7:00, and I’ll bring some help.”  Vann said.

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 Help a starving artist.