IN DEVELOPMENT - "Local Event Chapter 8"

Local Event - CHAPTER 8

The Hearth Room

Beauchamp paced, clutching the blanket tightly around him, toga style. He might have passed for a Roman Senator if not for the gray and green plaids.

"You can peddle that nonsense somewhere else! I'm not having any part of it. Do you really expect me to believe you were 'magically' transported from the Amazon to Kentucky in the 'blink of an eye'? Look, I can accept that something extraordinary happened to you, David, but don't think you can mislead me with some tomfoolery about ... what? ... Is this supposed to be teleportation? 'Beam me up, Scotty?' Next you'll be marching out tales about the Bermuda Triangle and the Philadelphia Experiment.

"I'll grant you, I was pretty shaken up by whatever you did to me. What was it, some sort of topical stasis drug, or just an old fashioned Mickey Finn? I don't remember any kind of a prick, and there's no mark on my hand. That's how you administered it, right? When you took my hand? Had to be."

Ashby was nonplussed. This was one reaction he had never anticipated. "You don't believe me?"

"Oh, please," said Beauchamp. "You didn't really think you could put that over on me -- some hocus-pocus about teleportation?"

"But . . . The Strike, my disappearance."

"David, if you told me you were knocked into the river, lost your memory, floated down stream, and fell through the cracks for a couple of years, that I would believe. And if you said that once you regained your memory you were too embarrassed or too afraid to make contact, well, I think that would be understandable. Life was pretty chaotic in the early years, ATS."

Ashby stared at him, unable to get beyond the shock of Beauchamp's rejection. He had expected some resistance, but nothing like this.

"What are doing, David? What have you gotten yourself into? Why this charade? Are you working for a non-aligned country? Or, maybe one of the non-landed political entities? Just be straight with me. I can't guarantee anything, but surely you know I'll intercede in any way I can."

Beauchamp was on a roll, now. Dropping the blanket, he walked closer to the hearth. For a while, he just stood there, rubbing the knuckles of his right hand.

Putting his back to the fire, he looked into Ashby's eyes. "Maybe I can arrange an amnesty if you'll agree to come back in. I'm still connected, you know. Some of the brass are still in place, and you were always well thought of."

"John, I . . ..” Ashby started, then stopped, not sure, for a few seconds, just how to say it.

Taking a deep breath, he released it slowly, releasing the tension, before continuing. "I'm surprised by your reaction. I thought you would want to talk about the crime scene, maybe discuss the dead woman and what connection she might have to your daughter. I thought your natural curiosity might kick in and cause you to wonder about where I've been all these years, and why I've shown up just now. I thought you'd be champing at the bit to find out why I was in that apartment when you showed up.

"Of all the things I thought you would say, I never once considered that you would think I was some kind of enemy agent." He shook his head in disbelief, the realization finally hitting him. "God help me. You think I kidnapped you."

Some doubt crept into Beauchamp's face. Ashby's calm, quiet delivery was having an effect.

"John, where's the man I knew? Where is that questioning nature? There was a time when you would have grabbed onto these mysteries, sinking your teeth in like a rat terrier fighting over a steak. Don't you wonder why, after almost twenty years, you still haven't found your children? How is that even possible? You're a FIN! When was the last time you didn't finish an investigation inside of a few months? The man I knew would have solved that mystery more than a decade ago.

"And yet, here you are, ignoring the deeper mysteries of your life, settling for some superficial conclusion about me being an enemy agent.

"Come on, think John!"

It was Beauchamp's turn to stare. Looking into his face, Ashby could see a war being fought there.

I've got him started, but it's not far enough. I've got to find some way to push him. Maybe it's time for some fresh revelations.

Abruptly, Ashby walked to the far end of the room. Calling over his shoulder, he said, "Come down here, John. There's something I want to show you."