Page 16 of The Puck Decoy

It takes two days for me to be deemed worthy enough to be granted a meeting with the elusive Mr. Lincoln Blackwell. A man known for his reputation more than anything else, which is how I find myself skipping my classes on Friday afternoon and heading to Black Hallows to see him. Black Hallows is a wonder of a town. It was built on power and old money, with a clear wealth divide right down the middle that still remains to this day. Considering it resides right next to Fairfield, it’s not a place I visit often, especially given my father's disdain for it, but now with the hope of taking him down, I can’t seem to get there quick enough.

The office that Mr. Blackwell works for is on the North Side of town, the side that houses the wealthy and elite, and it looks every bit like the uptown security office I imagined it to be.When I asked around for someone who could do some discreet digging, the name of this firm was the top contender, along with the name of Mr. Blackwell himself. He was described as smart, cunning, capable, yet completely ruthless. So imagine my surprise when I am ushered to an office by a secretary, only to be greeted with a face as young as mine.

“Thank you, Eliza,” the man, no, the boy before me, says, gesturing to a seat in front of his desk as he adds, “Take a seat Mr. Peters.”

I look around confused, as the secretary, Eliza, nods at him with a smile, closing his door and leaving us alone. I look back to him in wonder, before I clear my throat and say, “I’m here for a meeting with Lincoln Blackwell.” The guy before me can’t be any older than twenty years, and my words cause the corner of his mouth to tip up in what I imagine is his version of a smirk.

“I’m aware of what you are here for, Joshua Peters, first and only son of Hugo and Louise Peters, the former being the well respected Mayor of Fairfield, and I use the word respected ironically,” he muses, watching me closely as if his stare alone can seep into my soul. “You attend Fairfield University alongside your younger sister, Madeline. You play for FU’s hockey team, and word through the grapevine is that you want to play for the NHL, despite the fact your father wants you to follow his footsteps into politics.”

Okay so the guy knows his shit, big fucking deal. I still try not to let the surprise show on my face as I reply blandly, “Is that your way of telling meyouare Lincoln Blackwell?”

His smirk only grows. “You may call me Lincoln.” He opens a drawer in his desk and pulls out a brown file, tossing it on the desk between us. “I took the liberty of digging up some surface level stuff on your father,” he shrugs, as I reach out and take the file, flicking through it until my eyes widen at the tidbits of information he has already found. “But it won’t be enough totake him down, not with friends in the right places and pockets as deep as his.”

All I can do is stare at the information in disbelief as he talks, both impressed at him knowing what I came for, and annoyed that he was able to work it out so easily. There is stuff in here that dates back to before I was even born. Hell, there is a copy of my damn birth certificate, and Maddie’s, yet none of it is enough to truly do enough damage. Not the level I require anyway.

I flick my gaze back to him, and he is watching me closely, his face giving away nothing, his eyes telling me I shouldn’t question this, yet still I do. “I never said I was here to take down my father,” I state matter-of-factly, and he rolls his eyes in a way that reminds me of Hallie.

“Josh, I’m sure you’ve heard the stories they tell about this town, the nightmares that happened here, and the tales of the Mayor and his friends who used to reign over it.” There is no smirk on his face now, in fact I am starting to see why they call him ruthless, he looks nothing like a kid anymore. No, now he looks like a man who has seen far more horrors than I could ever imagine. And he’s right of course, I have heard the nightmares of this town, and all about the men who used to run it. The rumors about it are rampant all over the state, yet no one really knows the truth, but looking into the sharp green eyes that currently watch me, I know he does. I know he’s seen it all and didn’t even blink. “Well they’re all gone, and I’m still here. Do you know why that is?”

The question throws me a little, especially considering I am recalling all the news reports about what allegedly happened in this town. So I'm not sure what he’s getting at, but given the manner of his office and the place it resides, I don’t really think too much when I respond, “Money?”

There goes that eye roll again, as he scoffs, “No, power.” He says the word like it's beneath him, like he doesn’t really believe in it, or maybe has other meanings for it.

Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. “Same thing,” I toss back, knowing that all the privileges I’ve known in life have come from both money and power.

“No, they’re not, and thinking so is a mistake, one you should learn from if you want to take back the power from your father.” I blink back as he stands from his desk and moves around it to sit on the edge right in front of me. “I know about the marriage deal you foiled between your sister and Bradley Thorne, and I also know about the one you are about to make yourself, so please let’s not waste each other's time.”

We stare at one another until I finally relent, thinking about my words carefully before I say them. “If I were here to take down my father, how might I do that?”

His smirk returns, as if he knew exactly what I was going to say and he was the one to get me to say it. I imagine he could get anyone to do anything for him if I’m being honest, and that’s only confirmed when he replies, “You’ll be busy with your wedding tomorrow, but after that you need to find your father’s weakness.”

I ignore the fact that he knows I am getting married tomorrow when I have told no one, and focus on what else he said. “My father doesn’t have a weakness.”

“Everybody has a weakness, Josh, you just need to find it.” He rises back to his feet and moves towards a locker in the corner. He puts in a code, and then his fingerprint into a scanner and it pops open, revealing a bunch of tech. Taking out a phone and something smaller, he shuts it again and moves back over to me. “This phone is untraceable, only contact me on this going forward, and this is something to help you find his weakness.”Lincoln holds up a small black device that sits neatly between his fingers. “You plug it into his computer.”

I take both without question, still confused as to what he does, and what I’m supposed to do now. “Plug it into his computer, and then what?”

“Then I’ll do the rest,” he holds out his hand towards the door and I stand and walk with him. “But you either need to do it this weekend or wait until after next week as I’ll be out of the country.”

This weekend? How the hell am I supposed to get this thing into my father’s computer this weekend?

I follow him out of his office and back into the main area of the building where the reception desk is, and find the secretary from before talking to another young man, one I recognize instantly and I scoff, coming to a stop and causing Lincoln to look at me.

“You have the audacity to tell me this isn’t about money when you have one of the richest men in the country standing right there,” I tell him, pointing to the man I know to be Asher Donovan.

Asher is like me in many ways, he went to private school, was raised by wealthy parents, and constantly overshadowed by his father. Fairfield Prep used to play Hallows Prep frequently when we were in high school, and though he wasn’t on the team, his name and presence at any game was always something to talk about. His father had more money than god, and from what I hear he also had more sins than the devil. One of the rumors of this town is that Asher killed his father and brother so he could take over the family business, and when his cold, soulless eyes collide with mine, I just might believe it.

“Josh Peters,” he nods simply at my presence, recognition clear in his stare as he abandons his conversation with Eliza and moves to stand beside Lincoln who is still watching me closely.

I don’t bother responding to him, moving my focus back to Lincoln as I snap, “The world revolves around money, you can get people to do anything for the right price.”

Lincoln looks between the two of us, as if seeing our similarities for the first time before he sighs, “And with the right power you can change that world.”

This time I look at Asher, look at him and see the changes that weren’t there in high school. There is no grinding of his jaw, no straightening of his shoulders, no dark shadow from his father lingering around him, he looks free. “Are the rumors true?” I ask, knowing he knows what I mean, and his returning smirk is even more sinister than his friends.

“Some of them are true,” he muses with a shrug. “And some of them are a lot kinder than the truth.” His words make me realize that whatever the sins of his father are, he made him repent, and though my own father’s might not be as bad, he too must pay the price.

“I'll get it done this weekend,” I say, moving my focus back to Lincoln, and he nods.

---