The Bag Man
by
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Jacob turned on the light next to the recliner. A green folder on the coffee table grabbed his attention, and he leaned forward to see what was in it. After a few seconds of skimming the pages, he realized it was a transcript of the shooters confession. He looked back to the front of the folder and saw his dad’s name written lightly in pencil on the front. Without any idea of how or why this unexpected treasure had been given to his dad, he opened it up again and flipped quickly through all the pages. Surprisingly, there were also copies of various pages from several of Mrs. Carpenter’s diaries.
He gave it only a moment’s thought before making up his mind to read it. He was confident that by piecing the stories together, he could find some sort of closure for himself and his friend. He opened the folder again and began to read.
* * *
Damien parked the stolen van two blocks away from the Tribune… He pulled a ball cap on backwards and looked out the rear window of the van. When he was sure no one was close enough to see him, he pulled the bicycle out of the cargo area and rode it to the front door…
“I have a package for John on the sixth floor,” he said almost out of breath to the man sitting at the front desk. He had picked the name John because he figured there was surely a guy named John most everywhere.
The box he was carrying had a suit coat, a white shirt and a tie in it, but John on the sixth floor had no use for this box; everything it was for Damien. He got on the elevator alone and pushed the buttons for the fourth and fifth floors. When the doors opened on the fourth floor, the workers were busy putting up panels of sheetrock and laboring away on other small projects. He let the doors close again and the car moved up a floor.
The doors opened once more, and this time he saw no one. He got off and slowly peered around the corner. Seeing and hearing no one, he quickly he grabbed a short piece of lumber and propped the doors open with it. Slowly he surveyed the area and saw what he was looking for: two desks sitting back to back.
He stayed alert, looking in every direction as he made his way to the desks. He quickly pulled a drawer open, but it was full of junk. He opened another and then another. He found one that was empty and placed the package in it.
When the elevator reached the main floor and the doors opened, Scott Davis walked in, thumbing through a messy notebook and apparently trying to sort out his own scribble.
Damien made two more trips to the fifth floor before going back to the van and changing his clothes again, each time carrying a single package. Everything was in order. Scott Davis had less than 24 hours to live.
* * *
Friday afternoon Damien returned to the Tribune where he sat across the street on his bicycle, shuffling through a hand full of papers waiting for
Finally Davis and his coworker went to the elevator and pushed the up button. The doors slid open after a few seconds, and he had to wait for a few suits to get off. Damien made his way over to the area where the two men were waiting for the elevator car to clear out. He stepped in with the two men when it was finally empty. Damien, carrying his little box, stepped in with a rush and put his finger in front of the control panel.
Damien asked, “Where to sir?”
“Six,”
The doors opened on the fifth floor, and Damien stepped one foot out and looked around as if he had chosen the wrong floor. He made a full but quick glance to make sure no one was around, and then turned to look at
“Nothing personal,” he said calmly as he pulled the weapon free from the box. He fired three bullets into
He peeled off his clothes as he ran to the desks where he had hidden the suit. Once dressed, he wrapped the gun in a bundle of newsprint and pushed it into the metal shoot.
He removed the fake teeth and black rimmed glasses and groomed himself… He applied a new disguise and jogged to the stairwell, down the five flights of stairs, finally walking through the lobby as a well-dressed, good-looking businessman. He smiled
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About the Book
A high stakes professional hit man, who calls himself Damien, leaves a graveyard of dead bodies in his path. The media has dubbed him "The Bag Man" — when he leaves your town, a body bag will be required.
Attempting to pass himself off as an FBI agent, he learns too late that his long time friend who lives in the same small town of northwestern
Early in his profession as a hired killer, Damien sets a rule for himself to never leave a job unfinished that he has been paid for. But the one time he breaks that rule, will haunt him to the end.
Accepting a job to hit a wealthy diamond broker, who turns out to be the uncle to someone in his home town, proves to be his downfall. When the law comes to his home town to investigate the nephew, Damien is exposed and is forced to start killing his only real friends.
Figuring out which of the men in this small town is the true FBI agent, and who Damien really is, is the mystery.
About the Author
Tom and his wife of forty years, raised their two sons in Woodward, the small northwestern
Although he and his wife now live in the Ozarks of Missouri, Tom says "Of all the places we have lived over the years, including the city of
This author is sure to captivate the attention of his readers with his unique writing style. Over the years Tom has captured the hearts of many through his various writings, including his talent for poetry.
Watch for more books by Tom Edwards.