Counterfeit Lies

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

It was a little past nine when Jake made it home. The wood-frame structure was old and lonely, tucked away in the Malibu hills five miles from the ocean. Two bedrooms and a bath gave him just enough room to house what few belongings he had. He didn’t mind the solitude; in fact, he preferred it.

He grabbed a beer from the refrigerator, turned on the TV, and quickly scrolled through the cable news shows in an effort to catch up on what was happening in the rest of the world. On every broadcast, the hot news was all about how a new nuclear nonproliferation agreement with Iran would guarantee “peace for our time.”

Jake noted FOX News Channel was the only place where reporters and commentators questioned the wisdom of the UN-sponsored international agreement. Both Megyn Kelly and Sean Hannity pointed out that the nuclear weapons deal with the ayatollahs in Tehran was remarkably similar to the 1938 Munich appeasement deal with Adolf Hitler.

As he prepared for a few hours of sleep, Jake picked up Katie’s Bible from the table beside the bed. It was still opened to a verse in Job: “Man’s days are determined. You have decreed the number of his months and have set limits he cannot exceed.”

Katie always said Jake lived like he believed those words; taking risks as if God ordained his bravery, knowing no matter what he did, his final day was part of God’s plan. But there were times when he wondered whether he was taking reckless chances or actually living under the watchful eye of God.

There was no doubt in Jake’s mind the verse brought Katie comfort, knowing her life and Jake’s were in God’s hands. A set of his best friend’s dog tags served as a bookmark for the opened page; a thin layer of dust on both…

Jake stared at the words he’d read so many times and said to himself, I believe in You, Lord, but why do You let terrible things happen to those who love You and those I love?

While brushing his teeth, Jake’s undercover cell phone rang. He activated the internal recording device and answered.

“Yeah.”

“Jake?” said the voice.

“Maybe. Who’s this?”

“It’s Daniel Reid. We met earlier today.” He said it as if Jake must have so many contract killings lined up he wouldn’t remember the morning meeting at the pier.

While rinsing his toothbrush, Jake said, “So, did you change your mind?” Always give the target a chance to back out. They seldom do, but it precludes a successful entrapment argument at trial.

“No. I just need to meet you earlier,” said Reid.

“Do you have the money?”

“Yes, of course. Can we meet at noon instead of three?”

“Sure. Is there a problem?”

“No. I just found out I have a court appearance downtown at one thirty and there’s no way I can make it to Santa Monica by three.”

“I’ll see you at noon, same place as this morning. Bring the money and all the four-one-one.”

“I’ll be there with everything you need.”

“Perfect,” said Jake with a double meaning… a counterfeit contract killing and an all-but-certain criminal conviction for solicitation to commit murder.