do for you?” he asked.
“I would like to talk to you if you don’t mind.”
“What about?” he inquired.
“I mean face to face,” the woman said. “I would like to meet you.”
“Sorry, I can’t,” said Austin. “Maybe I’ll call you some other time.”
“Please,” she said. “I need to know why you did this for me and why you wouldn’t accept payment. I need to know who you are.”
“Money means nothing to me. I have enough of my own to live on and don’t need any more.”
“Please don’t leave me suspended like this; I really need to know who you are.” She had to think of a familiar place to meet this man. It only took her seconds to think. “I will be at O’Malley’s every evening between five and seven in the evening at the back corner table. I’ll wear a white carnation on my lapel so you’d know me. Do you know where O’Malley’s is located?”
“I know where it is,” said Austin. “I have to leave town but will be back here in a couple of days. I’ll think about it and call you to let you know when I’m back in town.” He hung up before this woman could keep him on the phone much longer.
The woman looked at the telephone receiver for what seemed an eternity before she hung it up. It had been almost six months since that bastard almost killed her. She had spent three weeks in the hospital just to heal her wounds and broken ribs. It was months before she could bring herself to look into a mirror, afraid to see who might be looking back, and when she finally did, she realized that she needed plastic surgery to repair the damage, and that took a couple of more months.
She tried to put her life back together but the rage ruled her. She could not spend one waking moment without the rage. She was restless and even frightened in her dreams and awoke exhausted. She was anxious and angry and took it out on everyone around her, even her closest friends and family. She was losing everything - her friends, her business, her family and, most of all, her mind. She needed revenge. She needed to get this guy. She tried once to hire someone through a discreet and trusted friend but he thought she was kidding. “You just don’t go hiring hit men,” he said.
“What do you do when you have a problem?” she asked.
Her friend told her to call the police and explain, but she knew the result of that. Her name and face would be plastered all over the newspapers and television and she was not going to let that happen. She had worked very hard and went through many hardships to build her business and reputation and she would be damned if she let that asshole ruin all of it, especially after all the pain he put her through.
She was becoming desperate when the call finally came from London informing her of the bastard’s death.
Two days later, she received a call from the man telling her he would be in Chicago that evening and would try to meet her.
That evening she went to O’Malley’s. At 5:00 p.m., the place was still fairly empty. She had been to the place many times, but today for the first time she actually stopped at the entrance and looked at it. It was a very cozy bar, not very big, but looked very friendly. She noticed one couple occupying one of the tables and she also noticed several men sitting at the bar sipping drinks. She noticed that they all turned and looked at her. She was used to men looking at her, but this time, she was looking back trying to figure out if any one of them looked like a man who would be what she thought of. She was actually hoping she would recognize him, but what would a man like that look like? Most of the patrons turned their attention to their drinks when they recognized the girl as a regular at the place, even though they had not seen her in a while. One man was looking at her more intensely, she thought, but when she looked back, he had turned around and was paying attention to his drink. As promised, she sat at the back corner table. She waited until a little past 7:00 when she decided to leave, disappointed.
Austin’s first instinct when he saw her walk into the bar was to jump up, run to her and hold her very tight and never let go. His legs, however, froze and he was glued to his bar stool. His heart started beating in a way he thought was gone forever. He could not take his eyes away from her but when she started turning her head toward him to look back, he cowered, looked down at his drink and tried to conceal himself the rest of the evening. Every now and then, he would steal a look in her direction, but every time he did that, he thought she was looking right at him.
A couple of men kept looking at her throughout the evening, but when neither of them approached her, she realized neither of them was the man she was waiting for. The man at the bar caught her attention and when he did not approach, she was genuinely disappointed. She waited a while past 7:00 before she decided to leave. Even though she had hoped that her evening would have been better and she would meet her savior, she thought that at least her problem was solved and she knew that tonight, for the first time in months, she would finally sleep.
CHAPTER THREE
This part of north central Texas, Johnson County, had been named generations ago for the very wealthy and influential Johnson family. The family fortune kept growing with each new generation. Recently Al Johnson Sr. had died, leaving his substantial estate to be run by his three sons. The oldest, Al Jr. was over six feet tall and in his late forties and ran the family factories employing nearly half the county’s working population. After his father died, he dropped the JR. part of his name. The second son, Tommy, was slightly shorter than Al. He was the district judge and ruled the county with an iron fist. The only other judge in the county aligned himself with Judge Johnson and served on the same ticket. No one would run against the Johnsons. A few unfortunate accidents happened to a couple of spirited lawyers who showed an interest in running against the judge that forced them to withdraw from the race. None of the county’s lawyers liked to deal with him, but they had no choice. It seemed he had his own set of laws. Even though most generations of the Johnsons clan were decent and tried to be fair, this particular generation had its own scruples - or lack there of. The county’s population had to endure through the good and the bad and knew that sooner or later this generation would be gone. They could hope that the next one would be better, even though it was not looking promising.
The third son, Bruce, was the shortest of the three, at about five feet five inches. He had a noticeable beer belly that hung heavily over his thick belt and oversized belt buckle. Everyone called him Butch and everyone in the county avoided having to deal with him. He was the county’s sheriff and the judge’s enforcer. No one ever ran against him either. Rumor has it that one such person, a retired Dallas police officer tried and is now buried somewhere on the Johnson ranch. There had never been any evidence of foul play, but it was common knowledge. The guy just vanished from the face of the Earth. The irony of all this is that the Johnsons were not afraid to hint to the fact, knowing that mentioning such incidents would instill fear in the population. The sad part was that they were right. The brothers seemed to have total control of the county.
The elder Johnsons, as they were called now, had one son each. Oddly, they were born just days apart, although there had been a few years between each brother’s marriage. It was as if they were waiting for all three to marry before they had any kids.
Randy, the oldest, was Al’s son. Jeffrey was Tommy’s and the youngest, David, belonged to Butch. They were good-looking boys and their family resemblance was remarkable. People attributed that to always seeing them together. When they were growing up, Randy was always the ringleader and even though he was challenged on several occasions by either one of his cousins, he always managed to come out on top, either through his own abilities or the intervention of the elders. By the time they were eighteen they were infamous in Johnson County for
