DEGREE OF RISK  Josef Wilson    
   Chapter 1
      "By the time you read this, I will most likely be dead. I know what they did, how they did it, and why? They have no choice but to eliminate me."
     Leesa Lambert moved the tips of her fingers across the faded ink on the wintergreen steno pad sheet upon which the note had been etched by a man she had never met. She gently massaged the note as if it had come from a bottle and a genie would appear at any moment.
     "We're being followed," Martha said glancing into the rear view mirror.
     Leesa turned in the seat and stared at the twin tunnels of light piercing the night some hundred or so yards behind them.  She cast a suspicious glare at the strange lady who had insisted on this meeting, God knows where.
     "What makes you think we are being followed?" Leesa demanded.
     Martha shot a wicked glance at the young attorney and rolled her eyes.  "You'll understand after you talk to Wesley," she said looking back in the rear view mirror at the headlights which remained the same distance from her car ever since she had turned onto Belmont Ridge Road.
     Leesa started to speak but thought better of it.  She leaned back against the worn seat of the old Ford Taurus and took a deep breath.  She must have been temporarily insane to agree to this weird request for a meeting.  There was something in Martha Hart's voice though that was irresistible; a sort of desperate pleading for help Leesa could never resist according to her father, the honorable John Lambert.
     "Don't freak out on me," Martha Hart advised Leesa as she reached down and pushed the knob on the dashboard.
 Leesa felt the hair on the back of her neck bristle as the road in front of them turned black.  She turned toward the woman who now clutched the steering wheel tightly and squinted at the windshield of the car searching desperately for something in the dark.
     "Have you lost your mind?" Leesa shouted.  "Turn the god damned lights back on before you kill us both."
     Martha did not respond but instead jerked the wheel to the right swerving off the main road.  Leesa's head banged the top of the car as the old Ford lurched its way over pothole after pothole.  She grabbed the opening in the arm rest and held it as tightly as she could.  Her mind raced trying to decide if she should throw open the door and jump for safety or gamble this crazy bitch beside her had some sort of reasoning for this madness.  Leesa made the quick determination as bad as tearing down some unknown road without headlights seemed, jumping out of the car made even less sense.  Her knuckles turned white from clutching the arm rest as she tried desperately to see signs of danger through the clouds of grayish dust swirling beside the car as it made its way along the gravel road.
     "There it is," Martha grunted.
     Leesa squinted into the darkness as a large dark shadow off to the left turned into an enormous old oak tree.  Gigantic limbs stretched out in arcs from the huge trunk forming an umbrella over the ground below.  She gasped as the car swerved off the gravel into the high grass and weeds surrounding the old tree.  As the car made its way under the umbrella of leaves, Martha grabbed the gear shift and slammed it into park.  Leesa winced as her chest slammed against the seat belt abruptly interrupting her flight toward the windshield.  She turned to the old woman with a scowl and started to yell, but Martha spoke first.
     "Sorry about that," she said nodding at the rear of the car.  "Couldn't risk them spotting the brake lights, you know?"
     Martha reached up and flicked the overhead light switch to off before throwing open her door and jumping from the driver's seat.  "Don't slam the door, okay?  I need your help, here.  Come on."
     Leesa stared at the old woman in disbelief, but for some strange reason found herself helpless to disobey the commands she was being given.  Martha quickly opened the rear door and pulled out a large bundle of camouflage colored fabric.  She eased the rear door closed and threw one end of the fabric across the roof of the car toward Leesa.
     "Give me a hand, would you?  Make sure you get all the car covered.  That way they won't spot us," Martha said as she squatted down to secure her end of the camouflaging around the bottom of the car.
     Leesa muttered as she tugged on the fabric.  After she was convinced she had done the job correctly, she hurried toward Martha who stood silently inspecting their work.
     Leesa shook her finger and barked.  "I've had just about all of this I can take.  Now, you better start explaining just what the hell is going on, or this meeting is over right now."
     Martha touched her index finger to her pursed lips and waved for Leesa to follow her.  She moved briskly through the chest high weeds stretching from the road off into a large field as far as the eye could see.  Leesa followed, cursing under her breath.  Suddenly the woman stopped and motioned for Leesa to come to her.  She tapped her finger on her lips again and then pointed to the road ahead of them.  Leesa stared into the darkness and jerked involuntarily as a pair of head lights came to a stop beside the gravel road.  A car door opened in the distance, and the barely audible conversation of two men floated in the air from the road to where Leesa and Martha hid.  The two women silently sank into a squatting position in the weeds.
     Leesa tensed again as the powerful beam of a flashlight moved down the road and across the field of weeds and grass on both sides of the road.  The voices grew louder and then stopped.  The light shone directly on Leesa and Martha.  Leesa squeezed her eyes shut as if it would make her disappear.  She tried desperately to control her breathing but could not hold back a relieved sigh as the light finally went out.  The distant sound of a car door slamming signaled their hiding place had gone undiscovered, at least for the moment.  The car engine revved and its tail lights moved slowly down the road.  Leesa smiled when the lights disappeared from view.
     Martha leaned her cheek against Leesa's, her hot breath delivering a whispered, "They're pissed off they lost us, but they won't give up easily."
     Leesa returned the whisper.  "Who are they?"
     The moon was bright and Leesa's night vision was now in full force as she noticed wrinkles form around the woman's eyes and mouth as she pursed her face into a scholarly air.  "In due time, darlin', in due time."
     The woman turned back to the road and then looked up to the sky.  "Won't be long now," she advised.
     Leesa's lips readied an inquiry she quickly realized would be useless, so she sighed and stood silently as the noise of the night began to fill her ears.  Thousands of crickets scratched their legs together emitting a high-pitched symphony which only on occasion was interrupted by the guttural groaning of some lone bull frog off in an unseen pond across the field.
     Martha had an air of remarkable calmness as she pushed her greying hair out of her eyes and scanned the sky as if awaiting the arrival of a flying saucer or some celestial sign from the heavens above.  Leesa started to glance at her watch but froze as a loud metallic fluttering sound drowned out the crickets.
     "Get down," Martha commanded as she sank to her knees and crouched in the weeds.
     Leesa obeyed and as silently as possible duck walked up to where Martha squatted.  She scanned the skies trying to get her bearings on the direction of the fluttering which grew louder by the second.  She let out an uncontrollable squeal as the weeds slapped her violently and the field around her was flooded with light.  As quickly as the light appeared, it was gone as Leesa watched it moving across the field and off toward the main road.
     Martha wrapped a motherly arm around Leesa's shoulders as if to comfort her.  "It'll be okay," she assured.  "Just stay as quiet as possible.  They'll give up after a little while, believe me."
     Leesa fought to control her emotions and willed her trembling muscles to cease trembling.  Martha's arm shook from Leesa's shivers, and she hugged her tighter.
     After what seemed an eternity, the fluttering faded into the distance.  Martha and Leesa remained frozen in their position and peered into the sky as if some sign would magically appear and tell them it was safe now.  Leesa's legs were beginning to cramp, and she clenched her teeth trying not to show the pain she felt.  Suddenly it occurred to her.  The crickets remained silent.  In fact, there was not a sound other than an occasional rustling of the weeds caught by a gust of wind.  Finally, Martha released her bear hug and gently brushed her fingers across Leesa's cheek.
     "I think it's safe now.  Come on.  We need to go talk to Wesley."
     She stood and brushed off her tan colored trousers and blouse before walking briskly back to the car.  Leesa helped her fold the camouflaging and place it back into the rear seat.  Her mind raced as the old woman started the car and backed it onto the gravel road again.  Thousands of questions flooded her mind, but she knew they would all go unanswered until this strange prospective client decided it was time for telling her story.  Leesa sat in silence as Martha drove the car down Belmont Ridge Road and turned onto Route 50 headed toward Marshall.  About a mile or so down the road, she turned off onto Gum Springs and followed the winding road for another couple of miles before turning onto a long driveway that eked its way through the woods and up to a white farm house with a green tin roof and faded white columns supporting the front porch.  A swing hung from rusty chains off to the left side of the porch.  Leesa pictured Martha slowly swinging back and forth as she told tall tales to her grandchildren who sat with wide eyes and adoration.
     Martha eased the car to a halt and gently put the car in park.  She switched off the ignition and turned to Leesa with a smile.  "Well, now you can ask all the questions you want.  Wesley will be happy to answer them for you."
     Martha swung open the door and pulling herself from the car called for Leesa to come along with her.  As the two walked onto the porch and up to the front door, it creaked open and an attractive young lady peered out at them with a worried look on her face.  She pushed open the screen door and accepted a hug from Martha.  Then she extended her hand toward Leesa as Martha introduced her as Cindy Hart.
     Leesa shook the lady's hand and judged she to be in her early thirties, Martha's daughter she guessed wondering why Martha hadn't said so.  "Nice to meet you, Cindy," Leesa said.
     "Come on in," the young woman instructed.  "Want a drink?"
     Leesa smiled.  "Thanks, but I'm okay now.  Perhaps later."
     Cindy nodded and motioned for Leesa to follow her.  She led them down a hall and into a large room in the rear of the home with a huge stone fireplace along the side wall.  In the rear of the room was a big bar with a thatched roof similar to the ones Leesa had seen on the beaches in Jamaica.
     Martha saw the expression on Leesa's face and chuckled.  "The old man thought it was something special.  To tell the truth, we always thought it was a damned eye sore."
     In the corner of the room slumped down in a rose colored easy chair, an elderly man stared at the television across the room.  His hair was snow white, and his face drooped heavily with sagging flesh.  His right hand quivered slightly as it rested on the wooden arm of the chair.  As the three women entered the room, he slowly turned his head toward them and forced a tired smile at Leesa.
     "This is Wesley Hart," Martha advised.
    Leesa moved across the room and offered her hand to the old man.  An expression of pain filled his eyes as he slowly pushed himself forward in the chair and extended the quivering hand to the young attorney.  Leesa squeezed it gently and then stepped back.
     "Ms. Lambert is very anxious to hear your story, Wesley.  She has just been buggin' me to death with her questions."
     Wesley Hart smiled at Martha and then turned back toward Leesa.
     "Your wife is exaggerating a bit, Mr. Hart," Leesa kidded.
     Wesley's smile quickly disappeared, and he glared at Leesa.  His eyes moistened, and a single tear ran down his wrinkled cheek.  Martha and Cindy rushed to him, and Martha squatted down beside his chair and gently wiped away the tear.  She stroked his hair softly and turned back toward Leesa with a pained expression.  Her eyes were also moist, and she fought back the tears.
     "Wesley is my son, Ms. Lambert.  He's 42 years old, and Cindy is his wife."

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