This story is purely a work of fiction. Any resemblance to person's Living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely Coincidental.
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Mark Stevens
I would like to welcome my previous as well as hopefully new readers back to enjoy this story. However, should you have not read any of the Porterville books before, you should do so
- Porterville 2. Murder in Porterville 3. Silver Candlesticks 4. No Regrets
All the stories are stand alone, however, a lot of the same characters from the first book return for more adventures.
To my old readers: Welcome back. To my new ones, welcome aboard.
Please feel free to write me with any thought you might have. Please keep comments positive. I already have an editor that keeps me walking the line. Ha ha. You can email me at:
jetdesk2@yahoo.com
Chapter Twelve
When Britt and Devon arrived at the Poteet's home that evening, they had a short meeting with Brian and his father, along with Cory. It didn't take long for Brian to be filled in, and the police chief agreed with them that he needed to meet with Boyd Wilson the next day. That being the reason for the meeting, they soon joined Alice and the other guests, Larry and Bonnie Owens and Britt's mother.
"May we bring the food to the table?" Alice asked her husband.
Brian hurried over and gave his wife a kiss. "Please do."
"You fellows have more meetings than any women's committees," Catherine said as she helped Alice bring food to the dining table.
"Way more than any of our church committees," Bonnie said giving them a smile.
"Men's work is never done," her husband, Larry, remarked and winked at his wife.
"Don't get me started," Bonnie shot back at him.
"Let's eat," Alice said and told them to have a seat. "Anywhere you like," she added.
As everyone was enjoying the delicious meal Alice had prepared, the subject of Britt and Devon's wedding came up.
"How are your plans coming along?" Bonnie asked.
Britt looked at Devon and shrugged his shoulders. "What plans? It's the twenty-first at eight o'clock. I thought we'd show up at the church, get married and then head to the wedding reception. What else is there to do?"
Catherine Williams shook her head. "What else is there to do? Please tell me you are teasing."
Devon was sitting next to Britt. He covered the man's hand with his own. "We probably could use a little assistance," he said grinning at his sister.
"It certainly sounds like you need help," Bonnie declared.
"How about it, ladies, shall we put our heads together and help these two out?" Alice asked.
"Sounds like it if we want to see a wedding take place," Bonnie said.
Catherine was in agreement as well and said so.
At the end of the delicious meal prepared by Alice, wedding plans were still being discussed. When the ladies tried to get suggestions from the two, neither Britt nor Devon had much to say.
"Just tell us what to do, and we'll do it," Britt assured them.
"What he said," Devon agreed.
The ballroom in the mansion where Devon had lived while growing up had been already reserved, so that was one thing out of the way. Alice and Catherine said they would check with Kathy Applebee on the food for the wedding reception.
"Would you like anything in particular served?" Alice asked.
"Surprise us," Devon told his sister.
"Yeah, surprise us," Britt echoed.
"I hope the romance in your life is better than your wedding plans," Larry said and grinned.
"I'm shocked, Larry." Britt laughed and added, "Are you asking if Devon and I are romantic with each other?"
Britt's mother leaned forward in her chair and said, "Britt Williams, behave yourself!"
"Larry appears to have an inquiring mind. Sounds to me like he would like to know something," Britt responded.
"Britt." Catherine's voice had a definite tone.
"Alright, Mom, I'll behave." Then leaning towards the minister, Britt said, "Get with me later, and I'll tell you anything you want to know."
Larry smiled and said, "I think I get the picture. I'll leave the rest to my imagination."
Devon spoke up next, and his words gained everyone's attention. "Britt and I aren't being totally honest with you about our wedding plans. Regardless of what it looks like, we have, in fact, thought a lot about them, what we would like, lots of things. Truth is," he paused and looked at Britt.
"Go on," Britt told him.
"Well, the truth is, we feel responsible for all of the bad stuff that's happened since we've announced out plans to be married, and it's caused us a lot of worry and concern.
"Because of our decision to get married, Kathy Applebee's shop has been vandalized, and even worse, Larry, you and Bonnie have lost your precious home. Surely everyone here must know how we feel."
"You certainly aren't responsible for Sandra Collins' murder," Brian declared from his seat at one end of the table.
"I'm not so sure about that," Britt disagreed. "Stop and think about it, her murder didn't take place until after our wedding plans went public."
Being the loving mother she was, Catherine said, "I have to agree with Brian. Your wedding had nothing to do with Sandra's death."
"You two seem awfully quiet," Britt said to Jerry and Cory. "You have to know that Devon and I are right about this."
Jerry spoke first. "Thirty years on the police force has taught me never to just assume anything when it comes to facts concerning any case. Is there a possible connection to the murder and your wedding? At this point I believe anything could be possible. A lot of things have happened. Was it a consequence, any of it? I don't know."
"However, consequence or not," Cory said, "You do not need to put your plans on hold. Ignoring them won't make any of this go away, and it will only bring confusion into your lives."
"I couldn't agree more," Larry declared. "I might as well tell you what I've done. What we've done," he corrected giving his wife one of his special looks. "This afternoon I sent a registered letter to the district office in Oklahoma City, announcing my resignation affective December twenty-second."
"What will you do?
"Where will you go?"
Questions flew across the table at the minister and his wife.
Bonnie placed a hand on her husband's arm and said, "God will take care of us. He always has, and He always will. Do not worry about us. We feel that we're doing what we're supposed to do."
"No regrets," Larry said. "Neither Bonnie nor I regret making this decision. We know it's the right thing to should do."
"You precious people, whatever did we do to deserve your friendship," Catherine said, her voice full of emotion.
"I believe that works both ways," Bonnie said softly. "Thanks to Brian and Alice, we have a home. We will be forever grateful to them. To all of you," she added.
"We will always be here for you, for anything you might need," Catherine said, and everyone around the table agreed with her.
Later that night when Cory had gone upstairs to bed, leaving Britt and Devon alone in the living room, the subject of their wedding was brought up by Britt.
"Were we wrong to avoid making plans for the wedding?" he asked.
Sitting on the couch beside him, Devon answered, "Probably. Who knows?" he asked and shrugged his shoulders.
"I must confess something," Britt admitted. "I would have never dreamed that a minister would ever become a good friend of mine. It constantly amazes me that we have such strong backing from both Larry and Bonnie."
"Because we want to get married?"
"Yes," Britt said. "When I first returned to Porterville Larry seemed very welcoming to me. To be honest I was a little surprised by the way he seemed to accept me."
"Did you think Larry thought you a condemned sinner headed for hell?" Devon asked.
"Wasn't that what we were taught?" Britt reminded.
"Honestly, I never thought about it either way," Devon admitted. "Growing up I went to church every Sunday because I was told that was expected of me from the town, and also that I should show people that I was a strong part of the community."
"Elaine McKenzie was no one to be reckoned with, I must say," Britt mused.
"I have really mixed feelings about her," Devon remarked.
Britt realized just how true the words were that Devon spoke. Until two years ago Devon McKenzie had believed that John and Elaine McKenzie were his parents. Only after Britt had returned home to research facts for a new book, had he uncovered a dark secret known only to a few people in Porterville. Devon's real parents had been Tom and Margaret Cooper. Devon's name was actually Thomas Cooper Jr. On the day of a town picnic Tom Cooper had been drinking and drove through a stop sign. The accident had claimed the McKenzie's infant son, Devon. Tom Cooper admitted the fault was his, and Elaine McKenzie assured him they would not report the accident, but it would come at a cost. Devon had a twin sister, Alice. The cost to the Coopers was giving up their son.
For a reason that Britt would never understand, the Cooper's agreed to the ridiculous request. They even placed a grave marker in their back yard with Tom Jr.'s name, date of birth and death. The McKenzie's took the baby home with only two people from the hospital, a nurse and a doctor knowing the real truth, and from that moment on raised Tom as their son, renaming him Devon. This all came to light when Britt discovered a grave marker in the Porterville cemetery that had left him puzzled. When the mystery was solved Devon learned that he had a twin sister, Alice, and the McKenzie's were not his parents at all.
"I won't pretend that I know how you feel," Britt said, "but I can understand your situation."
"Part of me hates them for forcing me to live a lie all those years," Devon admitted. "Yet, a small part forces me to appreciate what they did for me."
"I have no doubt Elaine loved you," Britt said. "Strange as she was, she did love you as her own son, Dev."
"I know."
Trying to lighten things a bit, Britt said, "Think of the money and the resources she left you. While it's true having money is not nearly as important as a lot of things, I have to admit, you've shared much more with the town than the two people claiming to be your parents ever would. Porterville will always be grateful for what you have given it."
Devon smiled and stood to his feet, pulling Britt with him. "On that note," he said, "why don't we go to bed so I can fuck you?"
"You do remember that Larry asked about our romance?" Britt reminded. "Will you tell him that you fucked my brains out the next time you see him?"
"I think, at his request, I'll leave our romance to his imagination," Devon answered.
They turned the lights out and headed upstairs to bed. Once inside their bedroom and the door closed behind them, the men stripped their clothes off and eagerly crawled between the covers. After a really short time spent in foreplay, Britt moaned when he felt Devon's hairy cock slide inside him.
"Oh, Babe, I would keep your dick inside me all the time if it were possible. The touch of your thick bush against my flesh drives me wild and wanting more of you."
When Devon bottomed out, going in as deep as humanly possible, a loud moan came out of Britt's mouth.
"God, I love your dick in my ass," Britt groaned and his body rose to meet his lover's thrusts.
Moaning with desire, Devon started fucking Britt hard, driving his hairy cock deeper with each thrust. The movement was creating a thick strand of pre cum to leak out of Britt's dick.
Welcoming the deep fucking he was receiving, Britt unconsciously reach down and took hold of his slippery dick. He began stroking, his movement matching that of Devon's, and moments later, both men were ready to blow their creamy loads.
"I'm going to shoot," Devon warned.
Remaining silent, Britt stroked his dick faster, and as he felt his balls rumbling, getting ready to release a load of cum, he felt the cock inside him give a shudder, followed by a hot coating of cream attaching to the walls of his ass.
"Fuck!" The word came from Devon's lips. "I love you so much, Britt Williams." The words he uttered came only after his balls were empty and his dick motionless, surrounded by thick heavy cum.
"I love you, too," Britt said with a sigh. "You do realize that you are rich, and I'm just a poor struggling author? You're not going to wake up after we're married and realize you made an awful mistake?"
Devon lowered his body until his furry chest was pressed tightly into Britt's sticky chest hair. His cock was still inside Britt's cum-filled hole. A deep scowl appeared on Devon's face.
"By God, you had better never speak those words, ever again, Britt Williams. If you do, I'll—"
"What will you do?" Britt asked when the man didn't finish his sentence.
His face softening, Devon said, "Or else I will never fuck you again."
"Never?"
"Never," Devon repeated.
"Well, I can't have that," Brit said as he reached up and planted a kiss on the man's lips. "Besides," he said after pulling away, "I could never go without your thick hairy cock inside my ass."
"So it's my dick you love, is it?"
"Among other things." Britt grinned. He raised his legs and wrapped them around Devon's body. "However, your dick is the thing I love best about you."
"You're a shit," Devon through back, and the two laughed and went into each other's arms. "You do remember that you have more than enough published books to give you credit as a celebrated author?"
"If you say so." Britt was determined to have the last word.
Later, after a quick shower, the two men returned to bed and soon fell asleep in each other's arms. The last thought Britt had was how lucky for him that Devon loved him. He knew that as long as the two of them walked the earth they would be there to love and support each other.
Chapter Thirteen
Britt was working on his book Saturday morning when Devon rushed into the room. "I need to run out to the textile plant," he announced. "The security guard called and said a bomb threat has been called in."
"My God!" Quickly saving his work on the laptop, Britt closed his laptop and stood to his feet.
"The security guard has already called the police," Devon said as they stepped into the hallway.
"Cory, are you in your room?" Britt called out.
A door was suddenly thrown open, and the detective joined them. "What's up?"
"Get your coat," Britt said. "We need to get to Devon's plant right away."
The detective had a puzzled look on his face, but he disappeared and soon returned with his coat.
"We'll explain on the way," Devon told him.
Once they were in the car with Britt behind the wheel, Devon explained about the telephone call he had received from George, the McKenzie Plant's security guard. "That's all I know," he said. "Hopefully the police will be there by the time we arrive."
From their home out near Porterville Lake to the McKenzie Textile plant was less than a ten minute drive, but this morning the trip seemed much longer. Britt drove as fast as he dared. When he arrived at the gate he pulled up next to a police car and stopped. As the three men got out of their vehicle, they were joined by George, the security guard and Chris Vaughn, one of Porterville's police officers.
"I've called Brian," Chris greeted.
Another car pulled through the gate at that moment and parked next to the other two vehicles.
"That's Peter Nelson," Chris explained. "If there is a bomb, Pete will know how to safely defuse it." Chris introduced the new comer to the other men just as Brian pulled into the parking lot accompanied by his father.
Chris filled the police chief in on what he knew and explained that only the cleaning crew had been inside the building. "You can see them standing on the east end of the parking lot." The others looked in the direction where he had pointed.
"That's great, Chris," Brian praised.
Brian turned around and focused his eyes on the large textile plant. "Pete, come with me. The two of us will search the building."
As the two men began walking away, Chris called, "Wait," he said. "Brian, let me go with Pete."
"That's alright, Chris," Brian said. "Thanks, but we'll be fine."
"Chief, I insist," Chris pursued. He walked up beside Peter and said, "Let's go, Pete."
Not waiting for Brian to reply, the two officers quickly made their way to the plant's entrance. They disappeared inside the building leaving those on the parking lot to wonder what they might or might not find.
The security guard hurried inside his little office and soon returned carrying a rolled up paper. "I should go with them," George declared. "They don't know the building like I do. Plus here are the architect drawings for the plant."
Brian thought about the guard's words and said, "Go. Just make sure you do whatever they say, especially Pete. He's had detailed training on how to handle a bomb."
By the time George had reached the building, Devon had decided that he was going in as well.
Brian placed a hand on his brother-in-law's arm. "No, stay here. I need you safe. Your sister would never forgive me if something happened to you."
Devon smiled and said, "I can understand your reasoning, and I appreciate wanting to keep me safe. I'm sorry, but I can't do what you ask. I'm going in, Brian. It's my property, and I will do whatever it takes to assure that it's alright. If there is a bomb, it could be anywhere. It would take too long for the three of them to search the entire plant."
"Don't you have a security alarm?" Brian asked.
"There is one," Devon answered. "However, George turns it off whenever the cleaning crew come in to work."
"I'm with Devon," Britt spoke up. "If there is a bomb we need to find it quickly. The more hands the better," he ended.
Shaking his head, Brian said, "I'm not comfortable with this idea, but I can appreciate what you are saying. Let's go."
The five men hurried inside the plant, and thinking it unwise to use the elevator, they hurried up the stairs to the top floor. It was decided that Britt and Devon would search Devon's office and the outer office that housed his secretary. The other three would conduct their own search and return when they were finished.
As Britt and Devon stepped inside the first office, a quick look around assured them everything was as it should be. There didn't appear to be anything missing or out of place. However, as they entered Devon's office, they were met with a different scene. Filing cabinet drawers were pulled out displaying turned up files. Folders were also scattered on the floor. There was a sofa and two chairs in Devon's office, and their cushions had been tossed around the room.
"You need to see this," Britt said standing behind the big oak desk where Devon worked while taking care of his company's business.
Devon joined him and looked down at his desk. Large letters made by red paint were displayed across the entire desktop.
YOU ARE SICK AND PERVERTED
BRITT WILLIAMS IS SICK AND PERVERTED
IF YOU MARRY YOU WILL SHOW EVERYONE
HOW SICK YOU ARE
REPENT
Devon took a seat in his chair. He suddenly felt as if the walls were closing in on him. He tried to speak and couldn't. All he could do was stare at the bright letters written before him.
Britt placed an arm around the man's shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze. Like Devon, Britt found it impossible to speak as well. Forcing himself to breathe, he pulled his phone out and gave Brian a call. He asked the chief to come to Devon's office.
When Brian read the warning on the desk, he was furious. "We've got to find this bastard! And when we do," he continued, "I'm going to take him a part, one piece at a time. If anyone is sick, it's this son of a bitch that's doing this shit."
Jerry Poteet came into the office in time to hear the last of what his son had said, and he agreed. "This is some sick shit." He looked at Britt and Devon and said, "You two are not sick and perverted. I hope that you realize what I'm saying is the truth."
Britt shook his head. "I've been back in Porterville for two years, and I have never felt anything other than acceptance from everyone I've come in contact with. I guess I was wrong."
"Stop!" The word sounded harsh as it came out of the police chief's mouth. "You cannot judge an entire town by something a coward says or does. I say coward, because if this bastard had balls, he would say this to your face."
Jerry told Britt and Devon to look at him. When they did, he said, "Think of all the people that are your friends. None of them think that it's wrong for the two of you to marry. I heard Larry Owens say that we should be able to love whomever we choose. If a man of God has that opinion, then to hell with anyone that says different."
Cory had joined them by this time. "It's plain to see how much the two of you love each other. Don't let this situation come between you guys. We'll find who is behind this, and trust me, they will pay for everything they have said and done against the two of you. You have my word."
Brian received a telephone call from Chris Vaughn. The officer told the chief where he was and that he had something Brian needed to see.
"What's happening?" Britt asked when the phone call had ended.
"They've found something," Brian said and headed for the door.
The others followed the man out and back down the stairs. When they reached the basement, Brian called out, "Chris, where are you?"
Chris' voice led them to the end of a long hallway where they discovered three men standing close together. Peter Nelson was holding something in his hands, but the dark shadows made it impossible to tell exactly what the item was.
"You've got to see this," Chris greeted.
Peter grinned and said, "If only all bombs were like this one. Have a look."
Thinking that an actual bomb had been uncovered, Britt felt sick to his stomach. What sort of sicko would plan something like this where so many people could be hurt?
Devon's face turned deathly white, but he didn't speak.
"Relax," Peter told them. "There isn't any bomb. What we have is this."
The others looked closely to what the officer was holding, which appeared to be a shoe box. In red letters the word "BOMB" had been written across the top. Peter pulled the lid off.
"It's full of sand," Brian observed.
"That's right," Peter said and added, "and nothing else."
"We've searched everywhere, and this is all we could find," Chris assured them.
"Looks like the same red paint here matches the warning written on Devon's desk," Britt remarked
"What's that?" Chris asked.
Brian told the two officers and the security guard what they had found in Devon's office. He had taken a picture of the warning on the desk, as well as the things thrown all over the office with his phone. He showed them the pictures.
"Jesus," Chris groaned. "We're dealing with one sick son of a bitch. And it's not you guys," he added looking at Britt and Devon.
"Well, if you're satisfied there's no bomb, we need to let the people in the parking lot know they are safe," Brian told Devon.
"They need to go home. I would feel better if they were out of the building. Also, I don't want them to see the mess in my office."
"Can we help straighten things up for you?" Cory asked.
"Thanks, I appreciate the offer, but I think I will lock it up until I come in on Monday. I will give my secretary a call and let her know what has happened. I'll warn her not go to inside my office should she arrive before me."
"I'm not so sure that you can repair your desk without a lot of work," Britt remarked.
"I think you might be right. I won't think about it now. I can take care of everything on Monday. I'll just lock my office, and we can go home."
Britt returned to the office with Devon and watched as he secured the area. When they reached the parking lot, they found George standing in the entryway.
"Are you ready for me to lock everything up, Mr. McKenzie?" the security guard asked.
"We're leaving, George," Devon said. "The cleaning crew is going to be leaving soon, and when they do, please see that the alarm is set."
A small group of people had made their way over to the guard station. Devon explained the situation and told them to go home. "If you need to go back inside for anything, please let George know. When you leave, he will set the alarm." He also assured them they would be paid for their entire day.
As Britt drove home, he listened to Devon and Cory as they discussed the morning's events. What a morning it had been. Britt loved Devon so much. He had a difficult time believing anyone would be so against the two of them getting married. Another thought made its way across his brain. How in the world could they continue living in Porterville if their marriage was going to offend people? As Jerry Poteet had pointed out, the two of them had many friends. Would having good friends be enough to make their situation and their marriage work? God, he hoped so.