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“Why are you driving a Lexus? Are you nuts?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Boy, you are naïve.”

He continued to stare at her.

“As I was saying, the Squad aren’t the nice guys we were supposed to be. The RAC tried to control people while the Squad fought the RAC. We tried to help people; made sure everyone had enough to eat; the homeless got shelter; and to keep the RAC away from the populists—stuff like that. We’d take money from the RAC, who got money from the government. We’d use it to help the people. Then Casimir changed all that. Now we don’t touch the RAC. There’s no money for the people. The Squad changed. Now they rob anyone who looks like they have money and keep it for themselves. Casimir said we needed to operate more like a business.” She wrinkled her nose as she said it.

Cassandra turned away again, with a faraway look, as she stared out the window.

Gene looked pensively at her. After a minute she turned back toward Gene and took a deep breath before continuing. “That’s why Bog pulled you over this morning.”

“Bog? Is that the Squad leader?”

“Yeah, that’s his nickname because he looks like death. He’d pull over anyone for the least infraction; anyone who looks like he has money. If he can clock you one mile over the speed limit he gets half the fine—about a hundred bucks. Do yourself a favor—lose the Lexus.”

“He looked like his face was burned off.”

“Yeah. He pulled over the wrong motorist one time. The guy raced away from him, and Bog pursued him. Then the guy turned around and started right after him; tried to run him over. Bog slammed on his brakes, but it was too late. He smashed into the guy’s car. Bog’s cycle caught fire as he laid there unconscious. The other squad members pulled him away from the cycle, but he was pretty badly burned. He almost died. It changed him.”

“Changed him? How?”

“He was an all right guy. Ray knew him. Then after the accident he changed. Hated the people he once tried to help. He figured that the only one needing help was himself. He hated when people freaked out upon seeing him. He wanted to hurt them. He’d find any reason to ticket them. It became all about the money with him.”

Gene tightened his grip around the steering wheel. “Is that what you’re protecting me from? This guy, Bog?”

“Not Bog! I just told you why he pulled you over.” She looked away briefly and then turned back to Gene. “Dennis!”

“That’s absurd.”

“Look, Mr. Businessman, Dennis isn’t your friend. Okay?”

“What are you talking about? I’ve known him all my life. We were best—”

“Your re-acquaintance with your childhood friend wasn’t a coincidence.”

“I know. He was watching after me because of the squabble concerning my father.”

“He was watching you because he was ordered to. He knows you; knows he can win you over. You may have been childhood friends once, but I tell you, Gene, he doesn’t care about you now. He’s just doing his duty.”

“I had lunch with him at his house. He and his wife are nice people. He just got me out of a Brigade jail. You can’t just waltz into my life and tell me who I can call a friend.”

“They’re not your friends. Dennis is liked by the Commandant, and he knows it. He’s in line for a big promotion, and his wife wants more money.”

“Why should I believe you? I don’t even know you.”

Cassandra tensed up and raised her voice. “Look, Mr. Tycoon. Your neck is half in the sling. When it’s all the way there, it’ll be too late. I won’t be able to save you.”

Gene turned toward her with arms waving and almost shouting, “Why me? What have I done? I work. I mind my own business. Okay, I occasionally speed. I’m sure I’m not the only one. Now, I’m public enemy number One? Are you kidding? What have I done that I need your protection?”

Cassandra was calm. “You know Harold Zinney. He’s public enemy number One. They’re afraid you’ll go to New America. They believe you’ll then be on the inside, working with the hated one on the outside.”

Gene calmed down now. “It isn’t like we’d made plans to what… overthrow the government? Nevertheless, in this paranoid society I get the point.”

“At this point, all they want Dennis to do is keep an eye on you to make sure you don’t go running off to the New World. But there’s one more enemy you have.”

Eugene didn’t understand and continued to stare at his visitor.

“Jaydan Casimir.” Cassandra stopped to gauge Eugene’s reaction. There was none. “He’s… well, I’ll tell you later. Suffice to say—stay away from Dennis.”

“Why did you stop? What about Casimir?”

“You won’t believe me. When you’re ready to hear more we’ll talk again. There’s a Phillips station about three miles down the road. Let me off there.”

“Then what?”

“I’ll let you know.”

It was late when Gene got home, and Catherine wasn’t there. Gene decided to fix himself a drink, go outside, sip his brandy, and reflect on all that happened.

Was Cassandra right? Is Dennis bad? What’s wrong with wanting more money? I saw how he and his wife lived. It makes sense to want a promotion; heck, Dennis even talked about it. And Teresa—she was so nice. They were genuine. I’m sure of it.

Eugene got up to go into the kitchen and make dinner when he suddenly realized something. He hadn’t checked the garage to see if Catherine’s car was there. There was room for only one car in the garage, so he let Catherine use it. He set the drink down and went to the side door that opened into the garage and looked. It was there. Then, where is she? Is she in the bedroom?

Gene called his wife, but there was no answer. He went upstairs to the bedroom and found her lying on the bed. He assumed she was sleeping it off, but something didn’t look right. He approached her, half in fear. As he got to her side of the bed she didn’t appear to be breathing, and her skin color was pallid.

Gene grabbed his phone and called 9-1-1. The police and EMS showed up a few minutes later, and they carried Catherine into the ambulance. They tried to resuscitate her but she wasn’t responding. The EMT told him not to lose hope, and they’d bring her to St. Gregory’s. He could follow them, but he was interrupted before he could get into his car.

“Mr. Sulke, I’m detective Ralph Wismar. I’m sorry about your wife, but I can tell you that she’s dead. The EMT can’t confirm that because he isn’t a doctor, but there’s no hurry getting to the hospital. We have to make sure this isn’t a crime scene so I hope you don’t mind if we look around.”

“Yes, I mind,” Eugene said. “I’d like to be with my wife right now.” The police weren’t interested, and they walked right in.

“I have rights! Unreasonable search and seizure.” Wismar ignored him. “Please,” Eugene said, “I need to be with my wife right now.”

Wismar and a couple police officers began looking around. One went to the bedroom and one to the kitchen. Wismar stayed with Eugene. The guy in the kitchen called to Wismar. “I found something, sir. It looks like a suicide note.” The note was sitting on the kitchen table. Wismar, careful not to touch it until he completed his investigation, read the note.

Gene, get away quickly.

The detective turned to Eugene, who also read the note. “Do you know what it means?”

“No.”

“Does she mean get out of the house? Get out of town? Get out of the country?”