About the novel
Book Description

      On the run from Chicago authorities, John Milton is a wanted felon. His life, as he knew it, will never be the same. He guards deadly secrets in hope of preserving his future, but he won’t let go of the past.

      Coalwater is an intricate and mysterious game of cat-and-mouse between Milton, a crooked politician, an investigator at the end of an undistinguished career, and a puppet master pulling all the strings. Millions of dollars are missing with the click of a button—retrievable by only one man.

      When Milton disappears, the case goes cold—until an episode of America’s Most Wanted thaws the icy chill of an open murder investigation. An unsubstantiated call to the show’s hotline instigates a manhunt leading to the quiet an unsuspecting Wyoming town of Coalwater…


Synopsis

      Coalwater, Wyoming has always been thickly insulated from crime, politics, and the big business of suburbia—until the day America's Most Wanted airs an episode looking for a sought-after criminal, gone missing from Chicago without a trace. A call to the show’s hotline leads to turmoil involving one of the town’s beloved residents, the mentally challenged Jimmy Hanson.

      The alleged is former Providential Plus employee, John Milton. Will his ruthless employers, the nefarious DeVitra’s—a band of brothers who will stop at nothing to have Milton found—destroy him? Or, will the innocent fall again, spectator to their twisted game? The mutual quest for revenge brings many unsuspecting people into harm’s way.

      The FBI investigation leads to startling mistaken identities, hidden agendas, and simple truths turning to lies. Money is the root of it all; and nothing is what it seems. The mystery unravels leaving lifeless bodies and sorrow in its wake.



Coalwater

One

    On November 19, 1997, a record setting twenty-four thousand raving, screaming fans filled The United Center to standing room only. The home of the Chicago Bulls was the place to be in professional sports—everyone in Chicago leveraged, and scavenged for tickets. The Bulls were aiming for their third straight championship following the return from retirement of Michael Jordan. They entered this season coming off the finest run in basketball history with seventy-two wins, and only ten losses, culminated by another world championship.
     The mood and festivity of Thanksgiving was in the air. The coldest front of the year had arrived with snow flurries and heavy winds returning once again from their cauldron in Lake Michigan. The gusts raged through the middle of town like “old man winter” repeatedly exhaling in the direction of the arena. Tonight’s game against the New Jersey Nets drew loyal fans seeking refuge from the storm—or better yet, a merciless slaughtering by the hometown Bulls.
     David DeVitra, owner of a very successful third-party payer organization, Providential Plus, frequented his company’s luxury suite. Suite Twelve—on the second level of the arena—was always filled to capacity with clients, employees, and friends of Providential. David was barely a sports fan, but he knew how to endear himself to his clients. He spared no expense in treating those loyal to him to rare and expensive privileges.
     Tonight, several employees and a handful of healthcare industry CEO’s and CFO’s—big wigs accustomed to being entertained—accompanied him. Hours before the game, the heavy partying and drinking had commenced. Shots of every type of liquor lined the bar; lavish food spreads decorated the serving tables around the periphery of the posh luxury suite. By game time, the noise inside the room was almost louder than it had been when they opened the sliding windows to the introduction of the Bulls’ starting lineup. The night was young, soon to be most memorable. David had a half-time surprise planned for his customers and friends that would never be forgotten.
     John Milton and Rob Bertrum were employees of Providential. They went to three or four games a year with David, but tonight they’d received special invitations. Ben and Tony DeVitra, David’s brothers, also employees of Providential, were there as well. They were always there. They were huge fans of the suite at the United Center. They ignorantly associated willing women, unlimited drinks, and the admiration of thousands in the arena with their location and presence.
     Mid-way through the first half, the food had been devoured, and the alcohol needed replenishment. Tanya Haskins, the food and beverage manager, paid special attention to the Providential Suite. She always received a handsome gratuity for the services she provided. But, she had more of a reason than just the money to hang around Suite Twelve. She’d met her fiancé, John, there almost two years ago; he was here again tonight.
     She opened the door to a frenzy of cheers for the Bulls’ third consecutive three-pointer, which stretched the lead to ten. David saw her first and rushed across the room to greet her. “Tanya, sweetheart, how are you doing?” They’d recently gotten to know each other somewhat at company parties and other social gatherings. He treated her with more respect after her engagement to John. Before that, he had always been self-centered, coming on to her with bad one-liners and poor awareness of her disinterest. She didn’t care much for him, but masked her dislike because of John’s position in the firm.
     “I’m fine. It’s a busy night though. The arena’s crazy. Must be the storm.”
     “Yeah, I suppose so.” David slurred a bit from imbibing continuous drinks.
     “You guys going for a record tonight? I guess you want me to refill the order for food and drinks?” Tanya looked beyond David, watching John who hadn’t yet seen her.
     “Sure, plenty of alcohol and deserts, ok? Tonight we’re celebrating Tony’s promotion to Vice President of Operations. We’re also entertaining some very important customers. I want everything to be perfect.”
     John and Rob stood close together. Their social comfort zone was confined to each other. They were similarly good-looking but noticeably high-tech nonconformists who preferred a computer to personal interaction. David perceived them to be geeks. Rob was taller and a bit thicker in the shoulders and waist. Neither of them was blessed with athleticism. They didn’t care for or extend themselves to interact with clients or the DeVitras.
     “Can you believe he promoted his brother over me?” John was whining. He had been given his opportunity at Providential through Rob’s referral. They had been college classmates and social buddies. Rob knew John was the most capable programmer in the field. He also knew how hard the news was for John to swallow.
    “You deserved it. No question in my mind. You know more about claims than anyone, not to mention the innovation of the online processing development. We both know it keeps Providential in business. It revolutionized electronic processing at a crucial time, too. We needed it to continue to be perceived as a leader in our field. Nepotism, that’s all it was, dude. Pure and simple.” Rob tried to lighten David’s blow by stroking John’s ego. “Even though you didn’t get the title, you’ll probably get the best raise you’ve ever had; its David’s way. Just hang in there, ok.” Rob paused for a moment as he caught a glimpse of David and Tanya together near the front door. “Uh-oh, don’t look now… you’d better move in. David’s talking with Tanya. You better go rescue her, or no action for Johnny tonight.”
     He swung his body around in the direction of the entrance. “That filthy stinking creep!”  John seized Rob’s advice and closed in on the conversing pair. He was bitter but kept his feelings to himself. Tanya smiled brightly, yet empathetically at John. His eyes said it all. Neither of them needed to expand on the moment with words. The promotion was all they had talked about at home for the past few months. Their wedding plans were on hold because of it. They never expected it would go to David’s younger undeserving brother.
     “John, you’ve got a great girl here. Did you know that?” David’s arm was wrapped around her lower waist as if she were his fiancée. He had always gotten under John’s skin—probably intentionally. And lately, it had been getting worse.
     “Yeah, David. I do. Can you give us a moment please?” John wanted David gone—away from him and Tanya. He had to work for the guy. He was forced to tolerate him. But, he didn’t have to let him infringe on his social life. John gave Tanya a soft awkward kiss on the lips. David looked on in contempt. Then he walked away toward his clients, smirking smugly, leaving the lovebirds to talk about the shocking news he’d dropped on them.
     “Can you believe that bullshit? Tony DeVitra doesn’t know dick about claims or the business. He barely graduated. From what I heard, David bought him passing grades. Two years out of college, and now he’s my boss!” John was letting his disdain for the DeVitra’s unravel.
     “Shush. Let’s talk about it at home. I’m busy, you’re angry, and it looks like your guys are getting antsy for more drinks.” She pecked him on the ear and whispered. “You’re the best. I love you!”
     “Me too.” He returned the sentiment and truly meant what he said. She comforted John. She always knew just what to say. It was why they were so good together.
     Tanya penciled in the order card as she headed for the supply room.
     John surfaced again with the clients and DeVitras.

~~~

     Three women bundled in full-length coats, scarves, and designer beenies to accent their outfits provided their tickets to the entrance guard and were welcomed to the arena five minutes before half-time. They scurried through the turn style, full of flirtatious smiles and giggles. It was unusual that anyone in Chicago, unlike LA, showed up so late for the game. Naturally, the attendant thought the storm must have delayed their arrival. Sight of the beautiful women was eye-candy for a bored, underpaid attendant. They dashed straight for the suite elevator, entered, and exited on the second floor. The back of the business card read: “suite twelve, half time; don’t be late”. They were paid handsomely in advance and didn’t want to disappoint.
     The knock on the door came seconds behind the loud buzzer identifying a break in the basketball action. David scampered to the door sporting a cheap grin, knowing what waited outside. To his displeasure, it was Tanya with a loaded cart of booze and goodies. “Oh, its you… Come in; hurry.”
     His demeanor irritated her. But that was David. Together with John, she’d concluded David was the classic ‘Hell's Kitchen’ New Yorker—where he was raised a decade after the street-smart cult of white Anglo-Saxon protestants had controlled the suburbs of the city. He was brash and short-tempered. Many would describe him as hubris personified. As a businessman, he had developed little tolerance for incompetence and ineptitude and even less for betrayal. He was always right, highly motivated by money and success.
     “All right then.” Tanya entered the suite and began to replace the empty bottles as a cluster of cotton-mouthed men looked over her shoulder, frothing for what she delivered. David hustled to the front of the room to close the vertical blinds. Another knock on the door accelerated his excitement.
     The women briskly entered, met David with rubs and hugs, and moved into their familiar positions. To his knowledge, nothing like this had ever happened in the suites before. For David, part of the rush was that he could pull off something so outlandish for his guests.
     The boom box was placed on the wet bar. The music began to blare. David closed the door and stood with his back propped tightly against it. Everyone focused on the three women as did Tanya. She’d finished her stocking and looked on in astonishment.
     The men, except for John and Rob, banged into one another claiming the leather chairs around the coffee table. Tony and Ben had the prime locations. They knew what was happening; they’d experienced it many times before. They all wanted front row seats for the action.
     The strippers danced through the chairs of men, spotlighting Tony DeVitra at David’s request, and began to disrobe. The coats hid their diamond studded g-string panties and naked breasts. They had perfect and obviously altered matching sets. Their bodies were hard, tight, and bronzed—no tan lines anywhere. Tony became part of the show. They celebrated his promotion with whips and paddles to his flesh. The dancing soon turned to acts of foursome- fondling as they discarded panties and unveiled the props. The big wigs were in heaven. They periodically lunged into the action. Ben and David shouted words of encouragement.
     Tanya looked at the men in disgust. It was revolting—as was David DeVitra for thinking this was entertainment. Several clients began to try to include her in the show, encouraging her to “take it off”. John moved in with concern  for Tanya’s welfare. He grabbed her by the arm, pushing away the hands of several key clients and escorted her to the door. He moved David away with a stern wave of his hand.
     “Don’t like the show, you two?” as he moved aside, offering them passage. David was sorry Tanya had been caught in the middle of their amusement, but he wouldn’t apologize to her or John. He wouldn’t admit it was a bad or indecent idea, because he didn’t believe it was. He knew his clients were enjoying themselves. They would remain happy, and that was all that mattered.
     It was cold and eerie in the parking lot filled with cars but no people. John and Tanya left the game together in her car. She was still feeling rather sick to her stomach after having seen the men demeaning the three women—viewing them and groping them as objects rather than people.
     “Tanya, what happened in that room was something I would never condone. David and his brothers have no morals. But, I work for them. They pay me more than I could ever make with another company.” He detested himself for being apologetic for people he didn’t even like.
     Tanya exited the lot, turning left. The roads were dusted with snow. She focused intently on her driving as she tried to shake her contemptuous feelings. “Let’s just go home. Tonight has been a weird night for both of us.” They’d been living together in his house since their October engagement.
     John thought about the events of the evening. How could he continue to subject himself to such humiliation in a despicable workplace? He was becoming more and more unhappy. Losing the promotion to Tony had just escalated his frustration. He hoped the big picture was more fulfilling. He had Tanya; they were in love. It should be more than enough for most men. Their courtship had been filled with nothing but great times and fond memories. He was ready to set a date, ready to move on to a life with the woman who completed his every thought and desire.
     “I deserved that promotion.”
     “I know.”
     They drove the last five minutes in virtual silence, both thinking about the promotion.
     Tanya felt lucky to have such a kind and considerate man. She thought of herself as nothing spectacular. She was cute by description of most men, outgoing, but often reserved when it came to talking about herself. John was the first man she’d ever opened up with. She was petite and athletic, always enjoying outdoor activities. They walked together most evenings, sharing details of the day. It was one of their most enjoyable activities—her most coveted time of the day.
     Tanya had never attended college. She’d worked many odd jobs since arriving in Chicago. Things seemed right for her there. She’d fallen into the best job she could have expected—moving from concessions to catering at the end of the ’95 season. The strike by the United Center employees left many positions available for the choosing. She had been in the right place at the right time. She’d met John through her job. Life was good. He would take care of her, provide for her, and together they would raise a family.
     They’d concluded, autonomously and privately, that their greatest good fortune was to have found each other.



Coalwater

Money—Murder—Mistaken Identities
A chilling manhunt from big city Chicago to ultra-rural Wyoming proves that health care can be a deadly business.