This story ended up being much longer than I had originally anticipated, so I decided to break it up into two parts. To understand the full context, I suggest you first read Part 1.
Constructive comments are always welcome and appreciated. Please refer to my profile for more on my personal policy regarding comments, feedback, follows, etc. As always, remember this is a work of fiction and not a docu-drama...
*****
May 6, 2019
John's rehab had gone better than anyone could have imagined. Not only had he regained his memory, but his body had recovered quite well and he now felt as strong as he ever had. He noticed that the doctors had done some reconstructive surgery on his face, apparently in an effort to deal with the scars from the shooting. It wasn't much, and it left some small scars, but it was enough to make him look considerably different than before.
Ben had also provided him with special contacts intended to disguise the color of his eyes. According to Ben, his daughter had a habit of visiting his grave-site at least once a week, usually on Tuesday mornings on her way to school. John wanted to see Jenny up close and personal, and they decided it would be best if he could disguise his eye color when they finally met.
They also had agreed on a plan of revenge, which would be set in motion when John was released from rehab. Fortunately, today was the day.
Ben arrived at the rehab center as John was getting his final instructions. He gathered his belongings and went to his friend's car. On the way to the apartment Ben had set up for him, they discussed their plan of action and agreed not to start until John had a chance to meet Jenny. Once at the complex, Ben helped his friend carry his belongings upstairs.
John looked around at the one-bedroom apartment. He was impressed with the furniture Ben had picked out for him and was especially impressed with the very large flat screen television mounted on the wall.
After showing him around, Ben handed him the keys to the apartment, the keys to a brand new SUV, and his new bank cards. John had reintroduced himself to the latest technology while in rehab and learned how to use a smartphone and the latest Windows operating system, and was able to start using the new computer Ben had set up in the front room.
After thanking his friend, John settled in for the rest of the day. He took the SUV out for a spin later just to get the feel of driving. He knew that he would have to get used to driving in southern California again, and he wasn't looking forward to that at all.
He stopped at a liquor store and picked up a bottle of Jack Daniels and a pack of cigarettes. He hadn't smoked since he joined the police force, but he felt the old urge and figured that since he was already technically dead, it didn't matter anymore.
He got back home and rested for the day, watching some television. After relaxing with a glass of JD and a cigarette, he went to bed for the night.
He woke up early the next day, showered, dressed and headed out for the cemetery, hoping to get there before Jenny. He found the grave marker and took a seat to wait, nursing the cup of coffee he bought on the way. Soon, he spotted her walking down the path. He put his nearly-empty cup in the trash bin and got up. She stopped at the grave and seemed to be saying something when he stepped up next to her. She looked at him before speaking.
"Did you know my father?" she asked. He nodded his head before speaking.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. We were in the Army together," John said. He extended his hand. "Smith. John Smith," he said. Jenny took his hand and looked at him carefully.
"Jenny Wilson. Good to meet you, Mr. Smith - John Smith." He smiled.
"Please, call me John," he said. She smiled before turning back to the grave marker.
"He was a hero, you know," she said. "Served on the police force also." Tears came to her eyes as she spoke.
"You really miss your father, don't you?" he asked. She nodded her head.
"I haven't seen him since I was eight years old," she said. "I miss him so much. I like to come here early in the morning and say hello. My mother would kill me if she knew."
"Really?" John asked.
"Yeah," she said. "She married my uncle after my dad was killed. My dad had just filed for divorce. He was killed shortly afterward."
"Do you know how it happened?" John asked.
"Supposedly, he was shot by a burglar," she said.
"I take it you don't believe that," John said. She shook her head.
"My dad was the best cop there was. I don't believe he was caught by surprise," she said. "I can't prove otherwise, though."
"What do you think happened?" John asked.
"I don't know," she said. "I just can't believe a burglar caught him by surprise." John nodded his head.
"It happens, you know," he said.
"Yeah, but not to my dad," Jenny said.
"So, if you don't mind my asking, have you decided what you want to do with your life?" John asked.
"I don't mind, John," she said. "I plan on going to UCLA this fall. I want to be a lawyer, but not like my mother or my uncle. I want to be a prosecutor. I want to put bad guys away. I think I owe it to my dad."
"Your dad would be very proud of you," John said, tears coming to his eyes. He wanted so much to wrap his arms around this girl and tell her it was going to be okay and that he was proud of her. She looked at him for a while before speaking.
"I have to get going now, John. Would you mind if we stayed in touch? I don't know why but I feel safe with you, even though we just met. Something about you reminds me of my dad," she said. John smiled.
"Sure, Jenny. May I give you my number? Please feel free to call me any time you need to," he said.
"Sure," she said, smiling. "I hope you don't mind if I call at odd hours." He shook his head.
"Not at all, Jenny," he said. "Call me any time you want." They exchanged numbers and Jenny left. He headed for his SUV, and didn't see Jenny put his discarded coffee cup in a plastic bag. He also didn't see her write down the number on his license plate.
John left the cemetery and headed for Griffith Park Observatory. It was time to put the plan in motion. Once he got there, he looked out over the city - a place where he once served as a police officer. He pulled out two of the burner phones Ben had purchased. He activated the first one, set the number to "private" and connected the voice changer device Ben gave him. He selected the effect he wanted, then dialed a number. A woman answered on the second ring. He recognized the voice as belonging to Lydia.
"Lydia Wilson," she said abruptly.
"Why? Why did you kill me?" he asked before hanging up. He quickly turned the phone off and removed the battery.
Unknown to him, Lydia had just left a meeting with some of her husband's backers when the call came in. She heard the message and tried to respond, but the call had already ended. She thought it sounded like her deceased husband, Avery, but she couldn't be sure. Surely Avery wasn't calling her from the grave, she said to herself. She thought about returning the call until she realized the incoming number was set to "private." She knew her current husband had enemies and wondered if the call came from one of them.
John, meanwhile, had activated the second phone. This time, he used it to send a text message to Robert's phone with an attached picture. The caption read, "Remember my promise..." and the photo was one recently taken of Robert just outside his office with a set of cross-hairs over his groin. After he confirmed the message was sent, he turned off the phone and removed the battery. Both phones were later smashed, with the pieces dropped in various trash bins around the area.
Robert, of course, saw the photo and read the caption. He knew it referred to the promise Avery had made to him on his wedding day so long ago. But this was impossible, he thought. Avery had been dead for 10 years and no one, not even Lydia, knew what his younger brother had told him.
Things were tense in the Wilson household that night. Robert and Lydia shared their experience with each other, but chalked it up to a political enemy and thought no more about it.
John followed the plan he and Ben had agreed to and waited three days before making his second round of calls. This time, he traveled to nearby Orange County before sent a screen shot of the video showing Robert shooting him to Lydia. The message caption simply read, "Your sins will find you out..."
The call to Robert's phone was also different. This time, he whispered, "Remember, I can blow your balls off from 1,000 yards away," before hanging up. As before, he destroyed both phones and deposited the pieces in various trash bins before heading back home.
Both Robert and Lydia were getting very nervous by now. No one but them and Avery knew of the events in that bedroom ten years ago and Avery was dead. How could this be happening, they asked each other.
Following the plan John and Ben laid out, no more calls or text messages were sent out for a couple days. John knew that Ben was busy getting information on Robert so he spent his free time catching up with the events of the last ten years. Then he received a call. Opening his smartphone, he noticed that it was from Jenny.
"John Smith," he answered.
"Hi, John, this is Jenny. Remember me?" He smiled. He could never forget his little girl.
"Sure," he said. "What can I do for you?"
"Can we meet tomorrow morning at my dad's grave? About 6:00 am?" she asked.
"Of course," he said. "I'll be there. Is everything alright?"
"I need to talk to someone, really bad," she said.
"Okay, I'll see you there in the morning," he told her.
"Thanks," she said before hanging up. He wondered what it was she needed to talk to him about.
The next day, he sat at the bench near the grave-site and waited for Jenny. She arrived right on time and sat next to him.
"Good morning," he said. She returned the greeting. He could tell she was very nervous about something.
"Penny for your thoughts," he said. She looked at the grave then back at him. She opened her purse, pulled out an envelope and handed it to him. "What's this?" he asked.
"You know, I remember the last time I ever saw my dad alive," she said. "After the funeral, my mother married my Uncle Robert and he insisted I call him 'Dad.' I refused, even though it made my mother mad. He kept telling me that he was my father but I didn't believe him. Now I have the truth. He's not my real dad." She looked at his face. "You are." John was shocked. How could she know, he wondered. She pointed to the envelope.
"I'm sorry for the intrusion but after we met, I grabbed your coffee cup and your cigarette butt from the trash. You know those things will kill you," she said. He laughed. "Something about you reminded me of that day ten years ago. You know, you can wear contacts to change the color of your eyes, get facial surgery, change your hair color, even mess up your fingerprints. But you can't change your DNA. They were able to get enough saliva off what I found that they were able to identify you as my father with 99.9 percent certainty."
"Wow," John said. "Ben was right about you, you are resourceful. You're going to make a hell of a prosecuting attorney some day." Jenny smiled.
"So, who are you, really? And who's buried in my father's grave if it isn't you?" she asked.
