Summary

Sunny Alexander-Johnson and Henry James, writers for Dark Sides of the Truth Magazine, are investigating a potential assassination plot against Angela with limited time, uncovering connections to a hitman named Christian Delaphonte and suspicious financial activities by Roger Sterling.

Abstract

In the ongoing series "Two Before The Wedding," Sunny Alexander-Johnson and Henry James are grappling with a complex case involving potential threats to Angela's life. Despite an abundance of information and theories, they struggle to make sense of the situation. Their investigation reveals that Christian Delaphonte, a known person of interest in several assassinations, has recently arrived in town and is likely involved in the plot. Further evidence points to Roger Sterling's suspicious financial transactions, including large deposits to offshore accounts and contact with Delaphonte via a burner phone. With time running out, Sunny and Henry must connect the dots and prevent the assassination, while also dealing with the challenges of Sunny's pregnancy and Henry's driving duties.

Opinions

The authors express a sense of urgency and pressure due to the limited time frame to solve the case.
There is a level of frustration with the complexity of the case and the lack of concrete evidence to act upon.
The characters show resourcefulness and determination in their investigation, using their network and available technology to track leads.
There is a hint of dark humor in the interactions between Sunny and Henry, particularly regarding Sunny's pregnancy and Henry's past experiences with "fleabag motels."
The team values the contributions of their colleagues, Becca and Donnie, highlighting the importance of collaboration in their line of work.
The authors seem to appreciate the thrill of the chase and the intellectual challenge of piecing together disparate clues.
There is an underlying tension and anticipation regarding the outcome of the investigation and the potential for violence.

Fiction

Two Before The Wedding Part 9

A Sunny Alexander-Johnson And Henry James Series

My name is Sunny Alexander-Johnson, and I’m Henry James, and we’re writers for Dark Sides of the Truth Magazine.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

It was late in the afternoon as we trudged back to the parking garage and left downtown intending to make our way back to Dark Sides. Our meeting with Angela went better than we thought it would.

Except for the fact we were no closer to figuring this out than when we’d started yesterday. Oh, we had tons of information and several theories, but the entire thing wasn’t really making sense.

Three days. We had three days left to come up with an answer. When one of our phones buzzed it startled both of us.

“This is Sunny. Hey Becca. Can you call us back on Henry’s phone? Yeah, he’s got driving duties today. I can barely fit behind the wheel anymore. Okay. Becca says she and Donnie have something. She’s calling back.”

“Got it. Hey, Becca, what’s up?”

“Well, for starters, Donnie ran that plate you gave us. It’s a rental from the airport. The security cameras picked the driver up as he left the lot. We ran facial on him. His name is Christian Delaphonte.”

“Should that name mean anything to us?”

“Probably not Henry. It seems as if Christian’s been a naughty boy. He’s been a person of interest on at least three assassinations over the last ten years. But there’s never been enough evidence to tie him to any of them.”

“Is he a local boy?”

“From what we can ascertain no. He flew in from Miami Monday morning, rented the car, and it seems just dropped out of sight.”

“What do you mean by that, Becca?”

“She means except for the rental the dude’s using cash for any and all transactions.”

“Hey, Mr. Martin, sir, but if he checks in somewhere to sleep, they’re going to want a credit card on file for miscellaneous charges, right?”

“Henry, think about some of the fleabag motels you used to stay in when you were on the road solo. Places like that go deaf, dumb, and blind when you start waving cash around.”

“You got that right, Donnie boy.”

“Henry, is Donnie Sullivan still tailing the Chrysler?”

“I’m guessing, yes. You know how Sullivan is when you give the man an assignment.”

“Okay, assuming this Delaphonte dude is here to take out Angela, can’t we get the police to pick him up?”

“And charge him for what princess? Driving around in a shitty car?”

“Henry’s right Sunny. We probably won’t be able to do much unless he tries something.”

“Yeah, Becca, and when he does, Angela may end up dead. Did you two find anything on Howard Bartley or Roger Sterling?”

“If you’re suspecting Mr. Bartley to be involved in this you two, you may as well forget it. From what we can tell, this dude is bucking for sainthood. Now Sterling, on the other hand. It seems as if Mr. Sterling doesn’t mind moving large amounts of money to offshore accounts that aren’t tied to him or Bartley Manufacturing. We’ve tracked down a forty thousand deposit in one account and a twenty-five thousand deposit to another in the Caymans.”

We were trying to tie the threads of a quickly unraveling scenario when Becca hit us with the money shot.

“So ask me.”

“Ask you what, Wu?”

“Ask me if Donnie and I checked Sterling’s phone records, Henry. That phone number you two gave Donnie and I to trace? The burner phone?”

“Yeah?”

“Sterling made two calls on his personal phone and received one from that exact same number.”

“Damn.”

“Oh, but that’s not the best part Henry. Sterling also made a call to a phone number with a 786 area code. Donnie and I are pretty sure it’s another burn phone, but the area code services the Miami keys.”

“Henry. Sterling called the fixer, and the fixer put him in contact with Christian Delaphonte. Sterling arranged a hit on Angela.”

“Something’s not making sense, Sunny.”

“Come on, old man. What do we have to do? Hit you over the head with a skillet?”

“Donnie? Becca? Thank you, guys. We’ll call you back.”

“Henry, what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m getting off this highway and turning around. I want to go back out to Brentwood before we run out of light and take a look at that coffee shop.”

Fortunately for us, the sun hadn’t fallen completely out of view as we found the coffee shop located at one end of a nondescript strip center.

When we got out one of us stepped up onto the sidewalk, but the other remained in the parking lot slowly turning to look at the front of the coffee shop and then in the opposite direction.

“Come here, Shaundrika. I want you to see something.”

“Damn old man, haven’t you made me do enough walking for one lifetime?”

“Just get your pregnant ass over here and look.”

“Fine. Okay, what?”

“See that water tower over there?”

“You made me walk over here to look at a damned water tower, James? Henry, have you lost your freaking mind?”

“Think Johnson. If I was a hitman, and I’ve been tailing Angela long enough to know she frequents this coffee shop. What place would be a perfect place nobody would spot?”

It took fifteen seconds and a turn to stare at the large plate glass window of the coffee shop then another turn to stare up at the metal railing affixed to a catwalk ringing the top of the water tower.

“Call Donnie, Henry.”

“Which one? Sullivan or Martin?”

“Sullivan. Ask him if he tailed the Chrysler to anywhere close to that water tower today.”

“Give me a minute. Yeah, Donnie. You still got eyes on our Chrysler? Really? Huh.”

“What is he saying, Henry?”

“Give me a minute, princess.”

“So Donnie, Sunny and I were wondering if the dude was anywhere near Brentwood today. What’s that?”

“What is he saying, Henry? Put the man on speaker, or I’m going to rip that damn phone from your hand.”

“Hang on Donnie. Okay, say again what you just told me.”

“Like I just said. This dude must have a few screws loose. I tailed him over to Brentwood several hours ago, and he parked in a grocery store parking lot and started walking. I finally had to park and follow him on foot. He never saw me, but I watched him climb the ladder to the top of a water tower, was there for about five minutes, then came back down and walked back to his car. Right now, he’s inside a motel room on the outskirts of town.”

“Thanks, Donnie. Stay on him. Call us when he’s on the move again.”

“Sure thing Mr. Henry.”

We were pretty sure we knew how this was going to happen. The problem was we weren’t sure when it was going to happen.

The fixer had said five days and today was Tuesday. That gave us two days to piece this all together and make it stick and figure out how to stop this.

Read On — Two Before The Wedding Part 10

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