Family Ties
A John Taylor Story
Travis Starnes
Table of Contents
Family Ties
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
About The Author
Other Books By Travis Starnes
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Family Ties
A John Taylor Story
Copyright © 2017 by Travis Starnes
All Rights Reserved
ISBN 978-0-9968668-9-7
996866897X
Signup to get free previews of upcoming books before they’re released at
http://tstarnes.com/preview-notification-newsletter/
Chapter 1
Berlin, Germany
Frieda Wissler sat in her old, comfortable chair, pushed close to the fireplace, a shawl wrapped tight around her shoulders. Although the fall air had only just started to cool, taking on the crisp scent of the changing of seasons, her weathered frame could not take the fall air like it used to. Fall had always been her favorite season, a time to stroll along the Kurfürstendamm free from the heat of summer. Now the dropping temperature meant aching bones.
The weather probably was not quite cold enough to really need the fire yet. If she was honest with herself, she probably could have done with just her shawl, but she did not want to. Besides the warmth she got from the flickering flames, she liked the way her apartment looked in the glow of the fire. It cast shadows everywhere, making it easier to pretend she still lived in style. The cracks in the plaster with its fading paint and the stacks of books and papers covering nearly every surface in precarious stacks were hidden by the shadows.
She knew she had let herself go, especially after Frederick had passed. She had seen the pity in her great grand-nieces eyes that morning when she had visited, looking at the clutter and the mess in its unorganized splendor. Frieda was old, but she was not senile, at least not yet. She recognized the looks. Her niece had heard Frieda’s request and promised to help, but Frieda saw it in her eyes, the mixture concern that a feeble old woman’s mind had turned. Still, the girl had promised to help, and that’s what mattered. She had even taken the documents Frieda had asked her to hold onto, but Frieda was not sure she would actually put any effort into it.
Frieda sighed and sank lower into the weathered cushions, crumpling in on herself. This was her last shot. She had tried every avenue inside the family, only to be rebuffed. The third time they had warned her to stop making trouble, politely of course. They always observed the niceties, but the message was clear.
So Frieda went outside the family. Not far outside, but far enough that she knew there would be trouble when they found out. They had left her no choice, though.
Frieda sighed again. She felt old. She was old, of course, but she felt it more than she remembered. Her whole body ached. She was tired of their secrets and the constant need to protect their legacy. She was tired of having to go to them, hat in hand, a relic of a dying branch of the family. What she really wanted to do is sleep. Just nod off and let her troubles slide away.
She could not do that, at least not yet. She had promised Fredrick. Not directly, his death had been too quick for that, but she had promised him in her heart. If her grand-niece did not come through, Frieda thought again, she did not know what she would do. She was almost out of options.
She almost sighed again, until a soft clicking sound behind her caused Frieda to freeze. The apartment was old, still large, and cavernous, but old. The building was prone to the creaks and groans of age. Frieda, however, knew every sound. She had sat in this chair for ten years, listening to the old girl talk to her. This was not one of those sounds.
A floorboard creaked.
She turned as a shadow fell over her.
“Was willst ...” was all she got out before the knife flashed out, sinking into her.
♦♦♦
Georgetown, Virginia
“What the hell is in this thing?” Taylor asked as he mounted the stairs one step at a time, trying to keep his balance while holding a large box in front of him.
“It is books. Be careful,” Kara said, watching him from the top of the stairs.
“You know you’re not supposed to put books all in one box. This thing weighs a ton.”
“I didn’t put all in one box. I put books in two boxes. There were too many to fit in single box.”
Taylor groaned as he moved up another step. He did not look forward to going back down and carrying up another one of these damn things. He had paid the doorman’s nephew at their building in Alexandria to help him load all of Kara’s stuff from their apartment, who wisely used a dolly and elevators to move everything. The brownstone Kara was moving into with Mary Jane had no such attendant.
Mary Jane’s secret service detail, which the families of both major party candidates received, were available but they were did not seem inclined to help a middle-aged man struggle with boxes. Had Whitaker been involved with the move, she would have thought ahead and hired movers at both ends to do the dirty work. He added that to the ever-growing list of reasons why he missed his estranged fiancé.
“You know you’re only here for the school year, right? You’re not moving in with Mary Jane permanently.”
“I know. I didn’t take everything, just essentials.”
“Two boxes of
