Second Chance

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Gregory Phillips sat in the back of the restaurant at the reserved table Bradley Timmons had placed him an hour earlier. He thought of earlier that day. Their visit to Storytown saw him introduced to an older man, Nicholas Freedman, the man who opened the park in 1957 for the betterment of the children not only in the Lake George and surrounding area, but for those an hour south, in the Albany area. Phillips’ meeting with him was a cursory one: Freedman wanted to know what the investigator knew. Phillips answered the query with honesty, told him that Van Rossum was looking to find more suspects in a theft of a painting in the 1920s and wanted to know about the family members of the suspects since then. Freedman was a spry man in his late 50s. He spend most days when the park was open there, helping where he could, whether that working at the ticket booth or in a concessions booth or running the Ferris wheel. Freedman built the park and knew all the inner workings of it.

“I know all of that,” the man said to Phillips as the younger man had a quick snack and drink. “What I’d like to know is if you knew of the painting’s location?”

“Why would you want to know that?”

“I know that the painting’s really a map, one that leads to a vast treasure.” Phillips was stunned. He thought only the family and himself knew the true nature of the item. Before Phillips could ask more questions, Freedman interrupted. “I represent a group of men that would like you to find the painting’s location, and when you’ve accomplished that, retrieve the painting for us so we can decode it and search for the treasure.”

“I can do that,” he said.

Timmons sat next to the private investigator. “At dinner I’ll introduce you to the other men.”

“How did you gentlemen come to knowing of this?” he brazenly asked. From his understanding, only a certain few of the Van Rossum family knew of the legend, of the map, and few more knew of the painting’s existence at all. The question left unanswered, Phillips changed the subject.

“What would you like me to do for you?”

The four men gathered around the table with the private investigator were silent. When questioned by Phillips, their gazes never left him. They looked at right, their facial expressions never changed. Frustrated by the lack of communication, he looked at the ex-cop and asked, “What’s going on?”

Bradley Timmons reached down and removed a thin folder from a brief case at his feet. He looked at the cover for a moment before sliding it across to Phillips. “What’s going on is that these men would like you to continue with your work. They would like you to find the painting.”

“I’ve been kidnapped twice already,” Philips began. “Do I have assurances that I’ll be safe?”

Timmons answered quickly. “Yes, you will be safe. I have hired men to watch over you. You’ve met a couple of them already.”

“When do you need my answer?”

One of the four men, who had been silent, spoke, “Not right now, but before this time tomorrow.”

Phillips smiled. “Can we eat first?” He looked around the restaurant, “I love this place, love the food.”

“Yes,” Timmons answered and called over a waitress.



Micah and Antoinette returned to their table. He received several congratulatory handshakes and pats on the back as they walked through the crowd of prom goers. She held his hand tightly, not letting it go even as her classmates wanted to shake his left hand as well as his right. She wasn’t going to release her champion, the young man that defended her without physical confrontation. It made her like him more.

Cam Drummond held out his hand. “That was impressive. I don’t think I could have had that much restraint.”

“Especially since of what you know about him,” Terri Caldwell said. The girl took Antoinette and hugged her.

Micah was confused. “What do you mean? Is there something about him I should have known?” He didn’t look at Antoinette, but she knew the questions were for her.

She looked away, not wanting to ruin the evening, but her friends answered for her. “He was always physical with Toni,” Dianne began. She ignored the glare from her friend and continued. “When she broke up with him, he threatened her, told her that he’d make sure no one would want her.” She looked at her friend and quieted, knowing that Antoinette never told him of Middleton.

Harrison continued the conversation. “We on the football team knew of what kind of person he was: hot tempered and jealous. We weren’t allowed to tell Toni about it, the coaching staff didn’t want us to ruin his reputation, his chances at getting a scholarship.”

Drummond added, “We should have, but some of us were afraid we’d lose our positions on the team. Looking back, we should have told her.”

Micah looked at the rest of the table. “Knowing this now, and if I had known it before, I would not have done anything different.”

He thought for a moment, knew that telling them about the Presence was out of the question. They would have thought of him as crazy. It would have ruined Antoinette’s prom. He shook his head. “There are times and places when physical violence. This wasn’t either.”

She looked at him and smiled. “Thank you for being honest with him. Thank you for being my friend.” She stood and kissed him passionately.

The embrace solicited hoots and whistles from her friends. She ended it with a giggle. She turned to her friends and said, “Stop it.”

A school official made his way to the bandstand and took the mic. He welcomed everyone to the 1982 Senior Class Prom and hoped everyone enjoyed his or her time. He looked towards Micah and nodded.

Antoinette squeezed his hand one more time and smiled. She looked at him with a little panic in her eyes and asked, “You wanted the roast beef, right?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Oh, I had this awful thought that you wanted the chicken, too.” She reached for her clutch and pulled out the meal tickets.

“At least you remembered I didn’t want the fish,” he joked.

“Fish wasn’t an option,” Drummond said. Everyone looked at him and laughed. “What?”

“It was a joke,” Terri said.

“Oh.”



He stared at his the remains of his dinner and shook his head. Phillips knew he had to give Timmons an answer, any answer, in spite of what the older men had said. They left before the food arrived, each giving an excuse to why they weren’t going to stay. That didn’t bother Phillips. He preferred to be alone with the former police officer.

It gave them time to discuss what the new job would entitle, if he chose to accept it. He wanted to know what resources would be available to him. He wanted to know if Van Rossum and his men would be interfering with his work, and what protection he would have. He had a myriad of questions and felt a hindrance if the men would be around. He knew Timmons would be honest with him.

Dessert arrived, a slice of apple pie. Phillips looked at Timmons and smiled. “I’ll give you my answer in the morning.”