106

Book:The Devil Wants Me Published:2024-11-11

Gregory
The pungent scent of burning marijuana fills the air.
It’s nearly choking. Thick plumes gust into the sky with each breeze. I can barely see the stars, and the full moon’s a black circle. I stand well back from the flames with Sean at my elbow. Orange and red flames lick along perfect rows of plants, catching and spreading in the direction of the wind. Nearby, my men run around, throwing more Molotov cocktails into the field, starting more blazes.
Soon, the entire farm will burn to ashes.
And ten others just like it in northern Oregon will burn as well. Multiple farms hit, all in one coordinated attack on Paul’s suppliers. These are Paul’s closest business associates, and nobody will be confused about why they were attacked.
I tried to avoid this, but it’s time.
“What are you thinking?” Sean asks as I walk away from the scene back to where we parked the cars a mile off the main road.
“Nobody’s going to mistake this little revenge,” I say, putting the stench of burning weed behind us.
“What do you mean?”
“They’ll see it for what it is. Petty and desperate.”
Sean grunts in response. “Why do it?”
“I couldn’t let an attack on my wife stand.” My hands curl into fists. I keep seeing her face moments after one of Paul’s lieutenants rammed our SUV, dazed, terrified, pained. I pulled her from the accident myself and killed more than one of his soldiers that day, but it’s not enough.
No, not even these fires are enough.
Paul hurt my wife. He hurt the mother of my child. Which means that now he has to die a horrible, painful death, one which will echo throughout the country as a warning.
The Callahan family is off limits.
“What happens now then?” Sean asks. “You said the cops are itching to come for us.”
“There will be investigations. We’ll be the top suspects. Most of the men here tonight will have to rotate back to Boston in the morning, and I’ll have new soldiers sent out to take their places. But at least Paul’s suppliers will be livid. They’ll see that he can’t protect them, even if I’m also shooting myself in the foot.”
Sean grunts in reply. “You want their business, but they’re not going to give it to you now.”
“Some might still out of fear. Others might simply to recoup their losses, and I can afford to be extremely generous. But yes, that’s correct. I’ll have to adjust my strategy from now on.”
We continue back to the cars. The smoke drifts into the sky, thick and dark. Once I’m behind the wheel and heading toward home with Sean in the passenger seat, I make a call.
It rings and rings. Allison’s father answers just before it goes to voicemail. He sounds groggy like he’d been asleep.
“Hello?”
“This is Gregory Callahan.”
He’s quiet for a moment. Then: “Hello, Mr. Callahan.” Sounding more awake now.
“Call me Gregory. I want to speak with you.”
“You have my attention. Although I don’t take many calls this late at night.”
“A large number of farms will burn this evening. If you don’t have messages about them yet, you will soon. Do you know why?”
Another silence. “Because of what Paul did.”
Everyone knows about the shootout. As well they should-I helped to spread the story.
I want them all to know what Paul’s really like.
“He nearly killed your daughter. How do you feel about that?”
“I don’t feel good about it at all. Do you think I wanted any of this, Mr. Callahan? Do you really believe I wanted my daughter to die?”
“I’m not sure what I believe.” I look into the rearview. In the distance, more thick, black smoke plumes to the sky. “Two things are bothering me. First, why are you still alive?”
Her father sputters. “What do you mean?”
“Paul should’ve killed you by now, but he hasn’t. You’re useless to him in a war, so it must be some other reason.”
“Our companies are tightly intertwined-”
“He doesn’t give a damn about that. Your company will survive you.” I’m silent for a moment, thinking. “It’s some other reason then. Perhaps he’s holding out hope that you will pay back what you owe him.”
“Paul keeps his own counsel. I’m not the man’s conscience. Is there anything else you want?”
“The second thing bothering me. Allison claims her sister Freya found something right before she died. She already knew that you owed a debt to Paul. I keep asking myself, what did she find that terrified her so much?”
He doesn’t answer right away. “I couldn’t begin to imagine. My daughter was deep into her addiction by then.”
“Perhaps,” I muse, glancing over at Sean. My second’s acting like he’s not listening, but it’s obvious he’s got one ear perked in my direction. “But the more logical thought is whatever Freya found is what got her killed.”
“Are you finished?” The bastard has the nerve to sound angry now, which only makes me feel like I touched on something important. “Did you call me in the middle of the night to speculate on my daughter’s death?”
“Yes,” I say. “That’s exactly what I did. I wanted to see how you’d react, and you didn’t disappoint.”
“Listen to me, Mr. Callahan. You can push around my daughter-”
“Save the threats. You are nothing to me and you know it. Now, please, do us both a favor and tell me everything you know. It’ll be easier this way.”
Another silence. I can almost hear him shifting around in his bedroom, anxiously pacing back and forth. I smile to myself, enjoying his discomfort.
Allison cares about this man. That’s the only reason he isn’t dead yet. But the moment I find out that he did something to hurt either of his daughters, I will strangle him with my own bare hands.
“I don’t know what to tell you. My oldest daughter was a drug addict.”
“That’s the story you’re going with? All right then. That’s a choice. I hope you’re right.”
I hang up.
Silence fills the car. Sean’s looking at me sidelong as I steer back toward the city.
“I’m trying to decide if you’ve lost your mind or if all of this has a purpose,” Sean says after a while. “With all due respect.”
“I think it’s both,” I tell him, smiling to myself. “But isn’t this the most fun you’ve had in a long time?”