The Shroud. Dale Fowler
which David found, made headlines. Constant bomb threats and hecklers are at many of his lectures and David is proficient at working local law enforcement groups in advance of any public appearances. It seems the more people try to hurt him and gain publicity in the process, the more invitations are issued for someone else to jump in the game.
When the Doctor is home, David is the sole security person. When he goes on the road, two additional security officers are under David’s command. Three days a week Dr. Benders makes the trek into L.A. to work at the hospital and David has one person in the security detail beside himself. David is constantly juggling a schedule based on last minute changes affecting staff requests to outside security companies. David also manages the full-time limo driver, Rico Hernandez, who’s driven for the Doctor eleven years.
Dr. Benders gets up this morning excited. His wife, Cindy, is flying back from a two week trip to London and Paris. Cindy Benders is sixteen years younger than the Doctor and a second marriage that physically could be considered a trophy wife outside looking in. At 46, she is very attractive but don’t let the looks sell her intelligence short. Cindy is a shrewd business woman and runs the operational side of the clinic under an iron fist as the C.O.O. She’s built a sound business platform allowing Dr. Benders a free mind to pursue his many outside projects.
Her trip to London served two purposes; secure a high-end European clientele pipeline for the clinic and find several investors for a second clinic expansion in Atlanta, Georgia. Cindy is successful on both fronts.
There’s a second reason for the Doctor’s excitement. He’s meeting his publisher this morning to profile content of a new book he’s been working on for several months. He hasn’t published a book in three years and is convinced the new book represents a paradigm shift in thought, changing the way people see the world around them.
He calls David to his office on the second floor of his home.
“David, need your help this morning.” The Doctor asks.
“Sure,” David answers. “What can I do?”
“Need you to pick up a dozen roses and a bottle of Dorn for Cindy’s return this afternoon.” Dr. Benders states.
“Certainly,” David responds. “Can get both before going to the airport to pick Cindy up.”
“Why isn’t Rico picking her up?” Dr. Benders inquires.
“Rico called this morning sick with a cold...didn’t want him around spreading anything.” David explains. “I have a security detail coming to the compound at 11:00 but can get them here early freeing me to pick up the flowers and champagne.”
Dr. Benders glances at his watch.
“Don’t worry about the security detail coming early...I’ll be fine. Have my publisher coming around 10:00...don’t waste your time or my money.”
Dr. Benders states a favorite phrase David has heard many times.
“Don’t want to do either, Sir.” David confirms.
David isn’t completely happy about the gap in security, but he knows better arguing the point. He’s lost too many of those in the past. David leaves the Doctor to order the roses and Dorn, smiling at the romantic gesture rare coming from Dr. Benders.
David is usually the one covering all the flowers and cards for various birthdays and anniversaries without prodding. Something special must be happening or maybe the Doctor is just insuring he gets laid tonight? David is glad somebody will be happy before the evening is over.
David gets his errands done quickly. Then he packs two bottles of champagne on ice and leaves the compound around 9:15 a.m. Cindy’s flight is due at 12:20, but the L.A. traffic is impossible to predict and can have a wide range of travel time required to park at LAX.
David has more than a hint of paranoia driving in Southern California fighting traffic congestion to pick up an important person like Cindy Benders. Early has always been a part of David’s personality, a trait rarely shared by L.A. people and he fired two security agencies for staff’s tardiness.
To his surprise the traffic is relatively light and he gets within a half-mile of LAX at 10:50. He stops at a small coffee shop to get caught up on his caffeine fix and down a bagel ignored this morning. A quick glance at his iPhone reveals Cindy’s flight is running twenty-five minutes late, not bad for the connecting flight from New York. Plenty of time to wipe the cream cheese off his face and get to LAX. The waitress takes his order and the iPhone rings.
Kirk Fetter is on the other end of the call, a security guard David knows well and assigned to the compound this morning.
“David, we’ve got problems...big problems.” Fetter relays excitedly.
David stands up while asking the question. “What the hell is going on, Kirk?”
“Got here a few minutes ago... started toward the house. This guy came running around the garage apartment screaming his head off... goes on and on about Dr. Benders being dead. I drew my weapon, made him show me what he found.” Kirk hesitates for a few seconds.
“Kirk,” David demands loudly. “What has happened to Dr. Benders?”
“Someone hammered Dr. Benders to a tree by the pool, he’s dead.” Kirk responds.
David is hearing but not believing. “What do you mean he’s hammered to a tree?”
“I called the cops, they’ll be here shortly. He’s dead. Get here fast as you can.” Kirk shuts the phone off.
David lays a ten on the table and rushes out to his car. He calls Rico and tells him to pick up Cindy from the airport. When he arrives at the Benders’ compound, three squad cars and an ambulance is already there. More CSI is on the way. David shows his I.D., circles what has been his home for the last nine years to find Dr. Royce Benders nailed to a large palm tree by the pool.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Act of Violence
JIM’S EATING A peanut butter and jelly laden piece of toast watching Winston go through his hunger act. The dog stares at Jim licking his broad mouth containing an even larger tongue. Winston’s bowl is full of dog food, but Jim is convinced Winston has no intention of living life as a dog. He neither acts nor eats like an English Bulldog, but Jim can only blame himself for indulging the dog’s self-image. The toaster spits out another slice of bread and Jim spoons a pile of PBJ to the warm surface feeding it to Winston, his fourth.
The dog reminds Jim of his favorite personality in history, Winston Churchill, although he didn’t think the dog earned the name in hindsight. The only trait shared is the round, ugly face even a mother pays little attention to, and of course, both English. Jim isn’t too sure about the English part; Winston was a gift from Slick Rollie meaning his paperwork is probably forged. He is sure about one thing, Winston is definately never going to be much of a watch dog, throwing a kink in the original intent when Slick dropped him off.
After Winston swallows the toast ignoring any hint of chewing, Jim picks up his five pound hand weights hitting the road for a three mile run. Like everything else in Jim’s life, he attacks the run with focus and drive. It’s not a jog, but an all out race from beginning to end.
A mile and a half into the run he notices two motorcycle cops brandishing a radar gun at the bottom of a hill. Jim runs by smile in hand, a lot of tickets will be handed out before the morning is over. As he crests the hill, a speeding refurbished 73 Mustang approaches a block away. The Mustang is a neighborhood car Jim has admired from afar and tries to slow it down using a hand motion. The attractive blond woman driving the Mustang flies past, annoyed at the attempt to get her attention. Jim shrugs his shoulders at her petulance, she better be really attractive to talk her way out of the ticket awaiting on the other side of the hill.
Jim makes the turn around the next intersection and starts his run back to the house. In passing a convenience store he notices a picture of Dr. Benders on the front page of the L.A. Times revealing a headline proclaiming