Dead Men Tell No Lies Pt 02

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.

"The man you knew as Avery Wilson died ten years ago," he said. "My name really is John Smith. You can thank the feds for that. The official story is that Avery was killed during a home invasion."

"But that's not the truth, is it?" she asked. He shook his head.

"No," he said. "Not even close."

"I knew it. I want the truth, Dad," she said. "You owe me that." He loved hearing her call him "dad," and he knew she was right, but he wasn't sure she could handle the whole truth.

"Are you really sure about that?" he asked. "It's a lot worse than you can imagine." He saw tears in her eyes.

"Yes, I need to know," she said. "No matter how bad."

"Things aren't going well at the Wilson household, I take it," John said. Jenny shook her head.

"No," she said. "Mom and Robert have been on edge the last few days. From what I gather, they've been getting strange calls and text messages and it's really got them upset."

"But there's more, isn't there?" John asked. Tears flowed down her cheeks even though she tried to keep from crying. "Have they hurt you?" She broke down crying and John wrapped his arms around her. It felt so good to hold his girl again, and he wanted to ease her pain.

"You'll probably hate me if I tell you," she said. John shook his head.

"I could never hate you," he said. "You're my little princess and always will be." She loved hearing him say that and composed herself as best she could before continuing.

"Robert has been molesting me," she said quietly. John felt rage as she spoke.

"How long has it been going on?" he asked.

"Since I was about 13," she said. The fucking bastard, John thought.

"Have you called 911?" he asked. She nodded.

"A couple of times," she said. "They sent someone out and examined me, but Mom said it wasn't true. Afterward, they beat me and locked me in my room. They threatened to hurt me real bad if I said anything to anyone else."

"What's on your schedule for today?" John asked.

"Nothing, really. School is out but I can't stand to be around the house anymore," she said. "These days, I'm just waiting to graduate so I can move out and go to college."

"You said you wanted to see proof. How would you like to come to my place so I can show you?" he asked. Her eyes lit up.

"Really?" she asked. "Yes, I'd like that a lot." John pulled out his phone and called Ben.

"Hi, John, what's up?" he asked.

"Ben, I need to see you at my place right now. There's been a change of plan," John said. Ben knew better than to press his friend.

"Okay," he said. "I'll be right over." John ended the call and walked Jenny to her car. "Follow me," he told her. "I'm in that SUV over there," he added, pointing to his car.

He drove to his apartment, making sure Jenny was behind him the whole time. He escorted Jenny to his apartment and ushered her inside.

"It's not as nice as your place, but it's home," he said.

"It's perfect, Dad," Jenny said, looking around. "It could use a woman's touch, though." She accepted his offer of coffee, so he turned on his Keurig and let her choose the flavor she wanted.

After getting their coffee, they sat down at his table.

"So, where's this evidence?" she asked.

"Are you really sure you want to see this?" he asked. "It's pretty graphic."

"I told you, I NEED to see this," she said. John opened his laptop and pulled up the video showing Dan, Robert and Lydia planning to shoot him, followed by the actual shooting video. Her face turned white and tears flowed down her cheeks.

"Oh my God," she said when the videos ended. "I can't believe they actually plotted to murder you." By then, Ben knocked on the door. John let him in and introduced him to Jenny.

"So, what's going on?" Ben asked after he sat down.

"Jenny knows who I am," John said. "And she tells me that Robert has been molesting her for years. I can't just sit here and let that go on." Ben nodded his head.

"I understand," he said. "So you think it's time to ramp things up?"

"I do," John said. Ben thought for a minute before speaking. He looked at Jenny before speaking.

"Would you be willing to help us?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, anything I can do to help," she said. Ben looked at John.

"We can use a set of eyes and ears in the Wilson house," he said. "Maybe she can set up some cameras and give us eyes in her house."

"I don't want her in any danger," John said.

"No, she won't be," Ben said.

"Would you be willing to do that, Jenny?" John asked. Jenny nodded her head.

"Absolutely," she said. "I'm over 18 now and I want to help. And there's not a damn thing you can do to stop me, Dad," she added, putting emphasis on the "Dad." "Besides," she added, "I've been taking self-defense classes for the past several months and I told Robert if he ever touched me again, I'd kick his balls up into his throat. He hasn't touched me since." John felt pride in his heart at his daughter's words. She was definitely his girl.

"Alright," Ben said. "I'll get you set up with the equipment and show you how to use it." He looked at John. "Maybe it's time to reach out to the media. I'll arrange an interview and get back in touch."

"Is there anyone we can trust at the D.A.'s office?" John asked. Ben shook his head.

"Things have changed a lot in the last ten years, John," Ben said. "As much as I'd like to see all three of them hang, the fact is, they'll drag it out in the courts for years and there's no guarantee anything will ever be done. I'm sorry, that's just the way it is now."

"Then it's up to us," John said.

"Maybe we can get the folks back east involved," Ben said. "You know, they really don't care too much for publicity." John knew what that meant. He hated the idea but realized it may be their best hope.

"Okay," John said. "Arrange the interview. I'll keep doing what I've been doing, maybe we can force their hand." He looked at Jenny. "You set those cameras up like Ben said and don't take any chances. If you feel you're in any danger at all, you call me and Ben, immediately. If need be, you can stay here. Any questions?" Ben and Jenny shook their heads. "All right, let's roll."

They headed out, with John giving his daughter a hug.

"I'm so proud of you, Jenny," he said, tears threatening to run down his cheek. Jenny smiled and kissed her father on the cheek.

"I love you, Dad," she said.

"I love you too, princess," he answered.

The next few days went by like a blur. John continued his campaign of calls and messages, pushing Lydia and Robert even further over the brink. Jenny followed the directions Ben gave her and had cameras and microphones set up all over the house. Even the house phones were wired. Robert and Lydia couldn't use the bathroom without Ben and John knowing about it.

As a result, John, Ben and Jenny collected even more evidence against Robert and Lydia, including phone calls with the suspicious, shadowy figures who were propping up Robert's campaign. Ben collected and analyzed all the video and phone calls, sorting out the daily fluff from the important stuff.

Ben also met with a reporter he knew and trusted at the Los Angeles Times and she reached out to John.

"John Smith," he said, when his phone rang.

"Mr. Smith, this is Elizabeth Johnson from the Times. I spoke with a friend of yours and he says you have a story for me. Can we speak sometime soon?"

"Sure," John said. "I also have some video to show you if you're interested."

"Yes, I'm very interested," she said. "Can you come by this afternoon?"

"Yes, I can be there this afternoon. What time?" John asked. They agreed to meet at a conference room at the paper's office at 2:00 pm that afternoon before ending the call. John looked at his watch. He had a little more than an hour to get there, so he grabbed his things and headed out.

He finally found a place to park and made his way to the conference room, where he met Elizabeth. She looked to be about his age, with short blonde hair. She looked good, even in her professional attire. John, naturally, looked at her fingers and saw no wedding or engagement rings. He reached out to her.

"Ms. Johnson?" he asked. She smiled and took his hand.

"Please, call me Liz," she said. "Come in and have a seat. Can I get you something? Coffee? Tea? Latte?"

"Coffee is always welcome," he said with a smile. Liz pressed a button on the intercom and ordered two cups of coffee to be delivered.