The Committee by Terry E. Hill Read Free Book Online Page B

that beautiful in Los Angeles?”
    â€œThe kind of fool who would do anything to make me look bad. I’ll be known as the mayor who failed if he’s able to stop this project; I would never live it down.”
    â€œAnd if it’s built?”
    â€œIf I get it built, then the sky’s the limit. I can—”
    Gillette raised her hand to stop Camille. “Never mind. Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves. We can only deal with one stadium at a time. Now, what is it you want from me?”
    â€œYou know what I want,” Camille answered as if irritated by the question. “The same thing you did to the others. I want him stopped. I want him out of the way.”
    Gillette leaned back in the cushioned chair. The plastic covering burped and squeaked as she settled in. “You’re sure that’s the only way? Have you talked to him? Turn on the Hardaway charm,” she said with a mimicking smile.
    â€œI’ve tried reasoning with him, but he’s irrational. He only wants to see me fail.”
    Gillette was silent for a few moments. Her eyes closed tight and lips pursed in deep contemplation. Camille stared at her intently and silently prayed she would come to the same conclusion.
    Then she finally spoke. “This is the third time, Camille,” Gillette said wearily with her eyes trained on the mayor. “You know this takes a lot out of me.”
    â€œI know it does, but I’ve tried everything, and this is the only option I have left. I’m desperate.”
    The smell of bubbling collard greens, garlic, and onions competed with the burning incense. Camille did not take her eyes off Gillette.
    â€œWhat do you want done?” Gillette finally asked.
    â€œI don’t care. Just stop him,” Camille said barely containing her desperation. “Heart attack, brain tumor, sex scandal. I don’t care. Just stop him. And it’s got to happen soon. We’re starting negotiations with the property owner tomorrow.”
    â€œDon’t worry, baby. I know just the thing,” Gillette said reverting to her most grandmotherly tone.
    â€œI don’t want to know the details,” Camille blurted. “I can’t be involved.”
    Gillette laughed gently and said, “That’s the beauty of the spirit world, baby. No one you can see is involved except the victim.”
    â€œGood.”
    â€œI’ll start on it right away,” the old woman said scooting forward in the chair. “Here’s what I need. A picture of the Mr. Spalding. Something, anything, with his original signature on it. Do you have anything personal that ever belonged to him?”
    Camille thought for a minute. “He gave me a baseball signed by Willie Mays that was part of his sports memorabilia collection.”
    Gillette laughed loudly. “Perfect! A symbol of the very thing he’s trying to destroy.”
    The old woman stood. Her years were now more apparent as she struggled to her feet and walked to the mantle over the fireplace. She stood near the candle and said, “Bring everything here tomorrow.”
    â€œYes, ma’am,” Camille replied humbly. “Anything else?”
    â€œThere is one more thing,” Gillette said walking toward the kitchen. “Are you sure you don’t want to try my greens? Smells like they’re almost done.”

Chapter 3
    Sheridan Hardaway drove the silver Mercedes up Sunset Boulevard past Grauman’s Chinese Theatre, mammoth billboards of busty blonds, and a string of trendy restaurants. He maneuvered the car through a labyrinth of tour buses, taxicabs, and jaywalking tourists. The glitter and grit of Hollywood soon gave way to a serene palm-lined stretch of Beverly Hills.
    Sheridan turned onto a nondescript side street tucked between a thicket of trees and blooming lavender jacaranda. A lush green canopy covered the narrow road. He could see the signature pink building just ahead. The