Black and White Truth (The Syndicate-Born Trilogy Book 2) Read online

  As he was trolling his usual haunts, a new e-mail came in from his publicist.

  ~~~

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Date: Tuesday, June 18, 2025 at 5:40 PM

  Subject: Fwd: Returning rights to novel

  ~~~

  J,

  Sorry, man. If you still want to go through with the project, I think you could maybe still self-publish. There is a lot of buzz on the net around the idea. The security concerns will need to be discussed beforehand, though. Call me. We can do lunch and map out a plan.

  Sincerely,

  Tamara Palmgren

  Literary Agent

  Village Promotions Marketing and Representation

  ------

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Date: Tuesday, June 18, 2025 at 2:40 PM

  Subject: Returning rights to novel

  ~~~

  Dear Ms. Palmgren,

  Due to the ever increasing death threats and backlash over your client’s proposed true crime book on The Syndicate, we will be withdrawing our publication offer. We look forward to our continued efforts to manage his current novels as well as any other future books he would like published under CJP.

  Sincerely,

  Jane Brown

  ~~~

  Frustrated, Jason flipped off his Atlantis, cupped his face into his open palms and groaned.

  Ellie, who was at the stove cooking dinner, turned to him with a look of concern. “Everything okay?”

  “Uhh... my fucking publishing company is pulling out of The Syndicate project.” He pushed back his chair and stalked over to the liquor cabinet. When he realized what he was doing, he paused with his hand on the cabinet door. While he could self-publish, that would mean he would have to incur all the cost along with the project and he had been counting on the advance from his publishing company to float him for the next six months.

  Ellie set down the spoon she had been using to stir chili, and walked over to him. “Take a deep breath. You can do this, Jason.”

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He kicked the liquor cabinet, making it rattle.

  His chest tightened and his breath and heart rate quickened as the familiar rise and swell of anxiety washed over him. Ellie stood beside him taking exaggerated deep calming breaths, for which he was both grateful and irritated.

  “J, look at me, okay?” She tried to tip his chin up to look at her, but he jerked away from her hand.

  Ellie wasn’t easily dissuaded though. and reached for his hand. She brought it up to his chest, where his heartbeat thundered.

  “Breathe in. Long, deep breaths.” She picked up his other hand and placed it over her own calmly beating heart. “Breathe with me.”

  Just one drink... one... What could one little drink hurt?

  “You can do this, Jason. You don’t need to drink.”

  No. I do need a drink.

  He pulled away from her, said, “Fuck this,” then grabbed his wallet and keys and stormed out.

  ***

  Later that night, Ellie sat at the kitchen table moving her food around in the bowl, watching the clock tick past the minutes... the hours... and her anxiety grew. She wanted to be hopeful that Jason hadn’t gone off to get drunk, but she wasn’t stupid. Wish in one hand....

  The back door opened and she jumped up expectantly. Her heart fell when Marianna walked in.

  “Where’s Jason? He’s not answering my calls.”

  Ellie opened her mouth only to close it again. The poor woman looked frazzled, and she didn’t know what to tell her.

  “He went to the bar, didn’t he?” The woman’s eyes narrowed to two angry slits.

  “I don’t know, but that would be my guess.” She leaned against the counter and crossed her arms across her chest.

  “What happened?” Marianna asked.

  “His publisher isn’t going to publish The Syndicate book.”

  Marianna stepped farther into the kitchen, dropped her keys and purse onto the counter, and sat down at the kitchen table. “What’s for dinner?”

  Ellie was a little affronted by her direct and presumptive attitude, but decided to be the bigger person and let it go. Maybe she would like Marianna better if she got to know her. “I made some chili. Would you like some?”

  Marianna gave a short nod, her shoulders stooped and her eyes welled up with tears.

  Ellie placed a bowl of chili—still warm from the pressure cooker—in front of her.

  She dug hungrily into the bowl, finishing it in no time flat.

  “Would you like some more?” Ellie asked.

  Marianna looked down into the empty bowl. “I guess I was hungry.”

  Ellie took the bowl to the counter to refill it and made them some tea. “How did you and Jason meet?”

  “I dated the Editor-in-Chief of his paper.” Marianna stretched her legs out to the side of the table.

  “Lisa?” The hot tea burned Ellie’s lips, but she drank it anyways.

  “Yeah,” Marianna said with a nostalgic smile. “After I broke up with Lisa, he sort of made it his mission to get me to go out with him. He’d bring me coffee, flowers, and even lunch. After a while it seemed silly to keep saying no. After all, he’s cute, smart, funny... persistent.”

  “Sounds like him,” Ellie said. “How long have you two been dating?”

  Marianna paused before answering. “We aren’t exactly dating. I guess we have been sleeping together for a few years. It’s an open relationship, though neither of us has seen anyone else in a long time.” She ate a few more spoonfuls of chili. “We’re both happy with our arrangement—no strings attached.”

  “That’s all that’s important.”

  “Katherine fucked him up. No one can compete with a dead woman.” Marianna shoved in another spoonful of the chili.

  Ellie nodded, not wanting to get into an argument with Jason’s girlfriend over what her best friend was or wasn’t responsible for doing.

  “This is really good. Thank you for dinner.” Marianna smiled and settled back in her chair with the cup of tea in hand.

  Now that her belly was full, she seemed to be more personable, Ellie thought. Food could solve all kinds of problems—always good medicine.

  The back door swung open with a bang and interrupted their conversation. Jason stumbled over to the kitchen sink and vomited into the basin.

  Marianna shot Ellie a weary look. “I’ll take care of him.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, I need to talk to him in private.” Marianna rose from her chair and gave Ellie a short hug. “Thank you... for everything.”

  “No problem. I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”

  ***

  Marianna waited for Ellie to leave before she lit into Jason—shoving him from behind. “Damnit, Jason.”

  “Fuck you, Marianna!” He had a way of shouting extra loud in the way only drunk people do. “Fuck you and the high horse you rode in on. You’re only good for one thing, and we haven’t exactly been doing much of that, have we?”

  He was in one of his hurtful moods, where he would say or do anything simply so she would leave him alone. This would be the last. Marianna was finished dealing with him.

  “I’m done with this, Jason.” She stood facing him with her hands on her hips. “I’m done with whatever is it that we’ve been doing here.” Her voice began to shake—betraying her. “Don’t call me, don’t text, don’t come crying to the station begging me back.”

  “Fuck you. Jus’ go already. I’m nawt gonna chase after your uptight, self-rightizz ass.”

  As much as she didn’t want to admit it, his words stung her—as she was sure he had hoped it would.

  “Fucking unfeeling ice queen. Too good for everybody. Just go already.” His hands, which gripped the countertop, began to tremble.

  If he lets go, his drunk ass is going to fall and he’ll hi
t his head.

  Maybe that was what he needed to happen--natural consequences. Either way, he was not her monkey, and this was not her circus anymore.

  Marianna stood by the door with her purse and keys in hand. An eerie calm came over her as she stood her ground. “Goodbye, Jason.”

  She walked out, but stood outside the door to catch her breath.

  He shouted, “I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone!”

  Tears slid down her cheeks as she walked away.

  ***

  O’Malley’s Bar

  Ocean City, Maryland

  June 18, 2025

  11:00 PM

  ~~~

  Scott Mitchel still struggled to acclimate to life outside of prison, even though he’d been out seven years now. It had changed him, like it does all men. He had always had wealth, influence, and a good name to fall back on before, but after the trial and ten years in prison, he was left with nothing.

  Nothing except a name that had been dragged through the mud.

  After his release, he’d been shocked at how difficult it was to get a job. His parole officer, a middle-aged, overweight smoker, did little to help him beyond encouraging him to network with old colleagues—the non-criminal ones, that is—to call in old favors, and to take advantage of the nonprofits in his area that assist people in finding jobs after prison.

  Scott had no intentions of working for some hardware store or factory, though.

  I’m a Yale graduate and a former United States Senator, for Pete’s sake.!

  In the end, it had come down to luck and a called-in favor. Bob Wheeler, an old college friend, had an opening at the community college where he was the dean. He took Scott on as an adjunct professor, where he taught U.S. History After 1945 and European History. With his paltry salary, most months he struggled to cover rent and groceries. For a while, he moonlighted as a custodian at the local high school to make ends meet. He quit when he was offered a book deal about his involvement with The Syndicate and his Senate career.

  They called him while he was in the middle of grading papers one afternoon, wanting to know if he’d made amends with his sister before she died, and countless other asinine questions. When the press had gotten wind of his father’s murder, the calls had increased exponentially. The reporters started to stalk him, angling for the soundbite that would garner them the extra bit of viewership and ad money. He worried that this extra attention would cause him to lose his job, and then he would be screwed.

  Book deal or no book deal, he needed his teaching job.

  So he gave them what they wanted. He told them how he was an average man, trying to make ends meet, and deeply saddened by his sister’s and father’s deaths. He urged the police to find the murderer and bring him or her to justice. It had worked, and the media had left in search of newer, more interesting stories.

  After work, he drove to the bar he’d been frequenting and sat in his familiar barstool.

  “Usual?” the bartender asked.

  Scott nodded with a sigh. “Make it a double, though.”

  The bartender laughed and poured Scott his double scotch. “Saw you on TV this morning. Think they bought all that everyday, ordinary man shit?”

  “It would seem so.” Scott sipped his drink, wishing the barkeep would leave him the fuck alone for once.

  Chapter 6

  Church Hill Neighborhood

  Richmond, Virginia

  June 19, 2025

  7:00 AM

  ~~~

  A distant knock came at the front door, and Ellie went to answer it.

  Two men in uniform stood with their hats in their hands. One said, “Ma’am, we regret to inform you....” Then she stood at the base of Chris’s coffin, his cheeks hollow and his skin an ashen, unworldly color.

  She awoke with a start, her heart racing and her breaths coming in short gasps. Her hand flew to her chest as she tried to calm herself.

  It was only a dream.

  The third one that night.

  Ellie rolled over and glanced at the time on her phone. The red numbers glowed 7:00 AM. Even though she had only gotten a few hours of sleep, it was futile to try and go back to sleep now.

  She dragged herself out of bed and into the kitchen to make some coffee.

  Eyes half open, she didn’t see Jason passed out on the kitchen floor until it was too late. She tripped over his leg and landed hard on the ground, half on him and half off. “Son-of-a-bitch, Jason!”

  He didn’t even flinch as she pushed off him to stand back up. Her feet slipped on slick linoleum, almost bringing her down again—Jason had pissed himself and all over the floor.

  “Oh my God, I am going to kill you,” she said under her breath.

  She quickly washed up at the sink, her anger reaching peak levels.

  I’m going to kill him. Wait. She squatted down on the ground to check his pulse. He’s alive. I’m going to kill him.

  “Wake the fuck up, Jason.” She slapped him across the face.

  “Wha’ the fuck ye slappin’ me for?” The smell emanating from his mouth was deadly.

  Ellie tugged his arms hard to pull him to his feet. “Come on, you need to get cleaned up. You can’t keep doing this to yourself. Something’s going to have to change soon.”

  He yanked back his arm and glared at her. “Leave me the fuck alone, Ellie.”

  “Fine, sit in your own piss!” She stormed out of the room and up to her room to change.

  Once cleaned up and changed, she flew downstairs, out the door, and slammed it shut behind her. She walked off in the direction of Dixie Donuts, where it didn’t smell like an overturned porta-potty.

  ***

  Richmond Police Department, First Precinct

  Richmond, Virginia

  June 19, 2025

  7:00 AM

  ~~~

  Mari had tossed and turned all night as she rehashed the fight with Jason. At 5:00 AM she finally gave up and got her things together to go to work.

  But when she pulled into the station, she couldn’t bring herself to go inside. For the last forty-five minutes she’d sat in her car in the precinct parking lot, sipping her coffee and fighting the urge to text Jason to see if he was all right.

  Knock, knock, knock.

  She startled and turned to open her passenger-side door.

  Detective Quinn O’Mally slid into the seat beside her. “Staking out the police station?”

  She continued sipping her coffee and rolled her eyes.

  “What’s wrong?”

  His uncharacteristic sincerity threw her for a loop. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

  “You don’t look fine, but if that’s the way you want to play it....” He shrugged and settled into the passenger’s seat.

  She glared at him. “What are you doing, Quinn?”

  “Being a good friend. I know you don’t exactly have any, so I’m willing to—”

  Mari punched his shoulder. “I have friends!”

  “Sure, sure, sure you do.”

  His condescension irked her to no end. “And what makes you think I would want you as a friend.”

  “You could do worse, and the way I see it, beggars can’t be choosers.”

  She couldn’t help herself—she laughed.

  “There, see now, that’s better. You should smile more.” He smiled back and his cheeks reddened a little. “You have a pretty smile.” He hooked his thumb in the direction of the precinct and opened the car door. “I’ll see you inside. When you’re ready.”

  Quinn could be abrasive, crude and intrusive, but he also said and did things that were thoughtful and kind... sometimes. She watched as he turned on his heels to look back at her.

  He winked, making her laugh despite the tears.

  ***

  Church Hill Neighborhood

  Richmond, Virginia

  June 19, 2025

  8:00 AM

  ~~~

  Ellie walked through her old familiar neighborhood holding a coffee ca
ddy with two sixteen-ounce cups of coffee. She had also picked up a couple of donuts to help Jason sober up. For Katherine’s sake, she wasn’t going to give up on him. She had overheard his fight with Marianna last night, and her heart broke for him—despite the mess he’d made on the floor.

  She dropped the stuff on the counter as she slipped in through the back door. Jason had gotten up from the floor and was now on the sofa still wearing his pee-soaked clothes.

  What the hell! The whole house is going to start smelling like a drunk tank.

  Ellie tamped down her frustration and tapped him lightly on his shoulder. “I’ve got coffee.”

  Jason grimaced like he was going to vomit. Then he gagged.

  She acted fast and grabbed the trash from the bathroom.

  He grabbed the can and managed to avoid spewing all over the place.

  Small mercies.

  This wasn’t the man she knew and loved. It would be so easy to get up and walk away from this, but she couldn’t. “Jason....” She stroked his clammy bare arm.

  “Just leave me alone, Ellie.”

  For now.

  Her phone rang and she got up to grab it. “Hello?”

  “Is this Elliana Forester?”

  Ellie’s stomach bottomed out with worry at the women’s official-sounding tone... worried that the call was about Christopher. “Yes, this is she.”

  “We have you listed as an emergency number for Betty Williams.”

  “Yes, is she okay?” She cursed inwardly. She had forgotten to call Betty’s sons.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, but Ms. Williams died last night in her sleep,” the woman said.

  “What?” Ellie’s legs started to give. She stumbled backwards to the nearest chair and plopped down. The last message from Betty played over in her mind. “What happened?”

  “Ms. Williams had a heart attack.”

  “Do her sons know?”

  “Yes, ma’am, her family has been informed. We’re very sorry for your loss. Please accept our condolences. Goodbye.” The woman ended the call abruptly.

  In a panic, Ellie grabbed her wallet, keys, and took off out the door.

  ***

  Richmond Police Department, First Precinct

  Richmond, Virginia

  June 19, 2025

  9:00 AM

  ~~~

  Mari sat at her cheap aluminum desk with her papers and notes scattered about her. At some point, she had broken out a scratch pad and started making notes longhand to try and activate a different part of her brain. She nodded off to sleep, only to jerk back awake. Her large cup of coffee—thick as blackberries in July—did little to help.