The Whisper Box Page 8

  Mr. Winchester,

  I am a big fan of yours. Sir, I swear to you, I have information leading to, what I think could, quite possibly be the biggest story in US history. I need you to contact me at home. I know this seems weird. I SWEAR TO YOU THIS IS WORTH IT. My phone number is 803-555-5972. You can also e-mail me at JohnnyM80@netsurf.com. Mr. Winchester, you have done a very admirable job in your career so far. This will send you far beyond any success you ever imagined. You are my only hope.

  Thank You—

  AA

  Aaron clicked on the send button. The message was launched into space through phone lines and was probably already in Grant Winchester's e-mail box. Aaron wondered if Grant would see his e-mail, considering he probably gets over a hundred a day. He obviously cannot read them all, and probably does not take many of them serious anyway.

  He figured that the only way these people could trace his conversations with LadiesFirst by tracking her on-line activity and possibly his phone line. With the laptop he should have a little time to get in touch with the correct channels.

  He woke his wife up. It was about two in the morning, and she was in a deep sleep. She rolled and cursed in the bed until he finally got her attention.

  “Honey, we need to go to the kitchen and talk.”

  She squinted and replied, “Why? What's wrong?”

  He firmly grasped her hand and led her to the kitchen. She questioned him the entire way down the hall. He waited until they were beyond the children's hearing and began his story. He told her how he had been messing around on the computer. He explained how he was in the Republican Room looking for conversation and how he met LadiesFirst. Assuming the conversation between the two was innocent, it had somehow led to a visit from a threatening stranger in his parking lot at work. She sat there with a blank, scared look on her face. Aaron insisted that she had to take the kids to his father's house in New York. She would withdraw all of the money from the savings account in the morning and leave immediately. There was to be no credit card use because they could be traced. They agreed that she was to explain everything to his father. Although she begged him to come along, he refused because he was already too entangled in whatever was going on.

  At seven o'clock that morning Aaron and his wife awoke the children and explained that they were going to Grandpa's house. The bags were packed within an hour. They went to the bank, withdrew the entire balance of eight thousand three hundred and forty two dollars and headed to the airport. Aaron put them on the first plane to New York. He had called his father earlier and briefly told him what he needed him to do. Aaron knew that this was a tough story for any of his family members to believe. Regardless, the plane left for New York at nine o'clock in the morning, and Aaron wanted his wife and kids on it. The tearful good-byes lasted for about ten minutes. Aaron hated to see them leave because he feared that they would never see him again. He was not worried about their safety once they left Columbia. Aaron's father was a protective, trustworthy old man. His father was a large angry man who would fight to the death with a Grizzly bear to protect his own. He was extremely worried about his own safety though. His life was at stake.

  Aaron drove back to his house, exceeding the speed limit the whole time. He had been gone for about two and a half-hours now. It was just about nine thirty in the morning. When he turned into his subdivision, he saw his neighbor, Ed, standing out on his front porch. Ed got his attention from across the street by clearing his throat in a loud obvious fashion. When Aaron and Ed made eye contact, Ed shooed Aaron off with a very stern look; his eyebrows were cocked as he motioned towards his own garage. The garage door was open. Aaron got back in his car and drove across the street into Ed's garage. Ed met him in the doorway that joined the foyer and the garage.

  “Man, someone just pulled up to your driveway. A big guy in a suit, with a gun I might add, jumped out of the car and hopped the fence into your back yard. I just heard a window break in the back of your house,” explained Ed.

  Ed was talking so fast Aaron had to concentrate on every word to understand him.

  “What's going on? Should I dial 911?”

  Aaron almost interrupted him. “Do not call the police! I have to go over there. Where is the car that dropped the guy off?”

  Ed described how the man driving had spun around and pointed out the skid marks in the street, and then he explained how he darted off. He said he definitely saw him pull out of the neighborhood. Ed tried to sell Aaron on the idea that going over there was not very smart. Aaron was not buying. He told Ed that he would never understand and made him swear that he would not call the police. Ed agreed and Aaron was off.

  Aaron went through the next two back yards on Ed's side of the street. When he felt like he was far enough down the street, he cut across into George Towery's backyard. George was the quiet one in the neighborhood. He never really said a word to anyone, but he was meticulous with his yard and everyone just appreciated that. When Aaron hopped the fence, George was holding a garden hose watering some azaleas. George and Aaron made eye contact immediately.

  George welcomed the surprising guest with a smile. “Hi Aaron, can I help you?”

  Aaron just said, “No Thanks Goergie. I'm just takin' a shortcut. I'll explain later.”

  George stood there puzzled as Aaron ran on through, and then worked his way back to the azaleas. Aaron leaped another fence and darted through Ted Martini's yard.

  Ted was never home. He ran a small restaurant on the opposite side of town and had everyone convinced that he lived out of a cot in his office there. When he got to the fence that outlined his yard, he knelt down. He heard nothing. He looked up over the fence and saw nothing, except for his broken bedroom window. He would have to go closer to find anything out. If this were, by coincidence, just your basic old robbery, he had already decided to kill the perpetrator. He took a deep breath.

  Aaron made it over the fence quickly. He ran to the side of his house in a squatting position. He backed up against the brick foundation and moved towards the window. When he got almost below the window he heard a phone ringing. It was not his phone. He heard a voice.

  “Anderson here.”

  Aaron could only hear Anderson's side of the conversation:

  “I killed the Greene bitch myself very early this morning. We couldn't find Hart.” There was a silence

  “Yes Sir, I understand sir, but there was nothing we could do, he disappeared.”

  He paused again. “Yes sir, I understand your discomfort with this. I can assure you, sir, I will take care of this. I flew down here immediately. I am in Aaron Gallo's home as we speak, sir. I have his computer.”

  Another pause came. “No sir, we have no idea who this JohnnyM80 is, but we'll find out soon and he'll be taken care of as well. I will be flying back immediately sir.”

  Aaron’s muscles tightened. Based on the conversation he had heard, he now knew he was not the only one involved and that Laura Greene was dead. This trespasser seemed like he was about to leave the house. He could take the computer because JohnnyM80's laptop was across the street in his car. Aaron crawled to the door that led to the crawl space under his house and continued inside. He could hear Anderson finishing up inside. If he had not moved his wife and children this morning they would all probably be dead right now. He was happy he took action so quickly.

  Anderson made quite a racket on his way out the bedroom window. Aaron could not see him, but assumed that it had to be tough to carry a computer and all of its components out through his bedroom window. He then heard a car pull up in the driveway. Almost immediately, the door slammed and the car screeched off. Aaron came out of his hiding space. He looked in his bedroom window and saw what looked like the wreckage from a mini tornado. Drawers were everywhere, clothes were scattered all over, and cushions were ripped open; he crawled in.

  When he made it to his office he saw the desk tipped over, wires strewn everywhere, and all of his disks were gone. They even took his children's game
s. This really made him angry. All he could think about was the phone call that Anderson had taken while he sat below the window.

  Who was Anderson? Who was he talking to? Who was Hart? He did know one thing; they still had no idea what was going on with JohnnyM80. That was good news. Aaron headed to the kitchen for a glass of water. Out of habit he looked at the answering machine. The light was flashing, indicating there was a message. Just as Aaron pressed the 'Play' button he remembered the e-mail that he had sent to Grant Winchester.

  Sure enough, Grant's deep business-like voice filled the room. “Hello, is the guy you e mailed, trying to reach Double A. I hope this is not a joke, sir. As you might imagine, I'm very busy with a little story in Washington right now. But nonetheless, my personal beeper number is 201-555-6441. Please beep me when you can.”

  Aaron picked up the phone and started to dial, before he realized what he was doing and threw the phone down like it was a burning stake. He could not use his phone, he was sure it was tapped. Feeling certain the intruder would return, he disconnected the answering machine so his wife would not be able to leave a message that would reveal her whereabouts. As for calling Grant Winchester, he had to get to a pay phone as soon as possible.

  He ran back across the street to Ed's house where he found Ed still standing in his garage. Ed stared at Aaron for a moment before questioning him. “What the hell is going on man? You involved in drugs or something?”

  Aaron just shook his head and looked at the ground while answering, “Eddie, I wish I could tell you, but I can't man. Just please trust me, do me the favor and don't call the police, OK?”

  Ed finally agreed, shook Aaron's hand and saw him off.

  When Aaron got to the pay phone at the gas station down the street, he was so nervous he could hardly get the coin in the slot. He dialed Grant's beeper, punched in the number to the phone he was standing at and waited. Aaron looked around at all the people walking through the parking lot. Not one of them had a clue that something very serious, and illegal was going on in the executive branch of their country's government. Their President was a conspirator. He wanted to walk up to all of them and scream, “I told you so!”

  He could not. In fact, at this point, he actually wished he were one of them. If so, he would be a nobody who knew nothing. What he did not know would not hurt him.

  While Aaron waited for Grant's call, he thought of a thousand different possibilities for how this would all turn out. He wondered who would be left standing and who would fall. After about fifteen minutes, the phone rang. He snatched the hand set off the receiver.

  “Who is this?” Aaron inquired.

  “This is who you beeped. This better be good mister. What's going on?” Grant replied.

  Aaron kept it as brief as he could. He explained what he had been through the last two days. He told him about the woman in the chat room and that someone by the name of Anderson had broken into his home, ransacked it, and had taken his computer. Grant still seemed unsure. But when Aaron explained that he learned Anderson's name from a phone conversation he had over heard and told Grant what had been discussed, including the references to “killing the Greene bitch” and not being able to find Hart, Grant's attitude changed. Grant agreed to fly to Columbia International Airport that afternoon, but he would not get off the CNN jet. Instead, he would arrange a stewardess to go to the terminal and lead Aaron into the aircraft.

  Aaron, although ready for the airport, had about six hours to kill so he headed to the Red Rooster Inn about four blocks away. When he paid the front desk clerk for the room he used cash. As he opened the door to the room he was surprised. He just paid $99.00 to spend six hours in a room the size of Ed's garage. Once inside, he locked the door, wedged a chair underneath it and plugged the laptop into the telephone jack. After signing on, he clicked his way to the Republican Chat Room. LadiesFirst was there. He opened a Whisper Box and greeted her.

  JohnnyM80: Hi. Things are crazy around here. Are you OK?

  LadiesFirst: Yes, I'm fine. I am more afraid for you. What’s been going on?

  JohnnyM80: Nothing. You need to tell me what you know. I may die soon if I cannot piece this whole thing together and get it to the proper people.

  LadiesFirst: Johnny, I can't!!!

  JohnnyM80: OK, enough of being nice, Lady. I'm about to fucking die and I'm worried for the safety of my wife and children! Who the fuck are you?

  LadiesFirst: Johnny, you do not understand... Hang on a sec.

  LadiesFirst: What the hell? Dial 911!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  JohnnyM80: Enough of your bullshit Lady! I can't dial 911. I do not know who the fuck you are! What's wrong? Who are you?

  LadiesFirst: Dial 911!! I'm the f

  The message stopped there.

  JohnnyM80: You are who?

  There was a long pause.

  JohnnyM80: Hello?

  The message came back: LadiesFirst disconnected from server.

  Aaron pulled the phone cord out of the wall. He was shaking. She was in obvious danger. Did she live nearby? Did Anderson stop by her house too? She obviously was not Laura Greene. He heard Anderson confess to her murder about an hour earlier. Damn shakes, now he started sweating too. Out of instinct, he wanted to dial 911 but he could not bring himself to do it. Not only was his situation unbelievable, but he could not trust anyone either. Whoever was trying to kill him was extremely powerful. They knew enough to trace all of LadiesFirst computer messages, they had found him at work and home immediately, and they had enough money to fly this Anderson lunatic around the country to kill people. His hands were tied. All he could do was wait in his room until it was time to go to the airport. He turned on CNN and lay down on the bed.

  He dozed off about twenty minutes after turning the television on. There was nothing of interest on CNN anyway. Once again, a bunch of analysts were sitting around a table talking about what 'could be' and what 'might be' concerning the allegations and rumors against the President. They discussed at least five different scenarios and what all the ramifications might be of each. Aaron could not help but fall asleep.

  He woke up at five o'clock, which gave him about thirty minutes to get to the airport. The television was still on as he opened his eyes. He heard a reporter describing a “devastating scene.” According to the reporter, the officials found no evidence, and foul play had not been ruled out at this point. All that was certain was that Paula Farnsworth definitely died from a broken neck. No one knew exactly how it happened.

  The President was at a rally in New Hampshire for education. He was notified immediately and was en route to Washington. Aaron finally cleared his head enough to realize what was going on. He was glued to his television. Paula Farnsworth, America's sweetheart, was the only thing about the White House that he had liked. The First Lady seemed genuine when she spoke. She reminded Aaron of an American Princess Di. She sponsored countless events for children. She constantly fought for the rights of the homeless. She seemed like a good person at heart, never mugging for the media. Her smiles were genuine, any onlooker could tell. She had used her power in a positive way and never abused her position. There was a fantastic balance between public and personal life. There had been so many times in the past when Aaron questioned why a First Lady was tagging along around the globe. Paula Farnsworth stayed home a lot. She did a good job of speaking up at the most appropriate times and she knew when to keep quiet. She would probably have no career as a Senator after her husband left the Oval office. Women across America rallied around her; they could relate to her. This truly was an American tragedy. As far as he could recall from his history lessons in school, no First Lady had ever died while their husband was in office.

  As he freshened up, he continued to watch in awe. He felt terrible about Paula Farnsworth, but he had to keep moving. He could not do anything about what had already happened, but he also could not stop what had to be done. Aaron dashed to his car, pulled out into the street, and headed for the highway. As he drove he searche
d for 560AM on his radio dial, hoping to hear more about the White House tragedy.

  When he found the station, he had to wait through the commercials. Finally the local announcer came over the airways. “Once again ladies and gentlemen, if you have not heard, our First Lady has died. Her body was found in the library of the White House about one hour ago. White House spokespeople have expressed their deepest sympathy to the Farnsworths and the American public. Apparently, she died from a broken neck after falling from the ladder leading up the highest bookshelf in the library. We'll report all news as we get it. The President has just been notified. Their daughter, Tina Farnsworth, was notified at her office in outer Washington. They are both on their way to the White House now. Neither had any comment.”

  Aaron was in shock. Poor Grant Winchester could not be on the scene because he was flying to Columbia, South Carolina right now. Grant was going to be rushed and very angry with Aaron, which would make for a very uncomfortable meeting. Aaron almost wished he had never contacted Grant. He was keeping the most popular reporter from the top story.

  Suddenly, a pulverizing reality seized him. He pulled off the highway and brought his car to a screeching halt. At least three motorists gave him the finger and blew their horn as they sailed by him. He almost caused a huge accident, but that was the least of his concern. He was sweating profusely as he thought through his realization. A tingling sensation filled his body. It was all adding up now. He had been chatting with LadiesFirst. She knew everything about the President. An hour after LadiesFirst begged him to dial 911, the First Lady shows up dead. Had Aaron been chatting with the First Lady of our country while her husband was away? It all came back to him. She mentioned a “wealthy, powerful husband.” She said that she hated him. She said that she was arm jewelry more than anything. When he had demanded that she explain who she was, she responded with, “I can't, you don't understand.”