Chapter 4
A week had passed, and Kent never told his mom about how that documentary ended and how he might be able to locate the real killer.
It was Wednesday evening, October twenty-eighth and Kent was on his couch watching WKRP in Cinncinati on the TV. His phone in the kitchen rang.
Kent got up off the couch and headed into the kitchen. "Hello," he answered the call.
"Kent, it's me, Jerry Woodstone. I'm Earl's cousin that works with the Air Force Personnel Center. He called about some information you needed."
"Ah, yes, Jerry."
"I found what you wanted."
"Okay," said Kent and his stomach started to get a little nervous.
"Derek Allen's Commanding Officer, while he was stationed at Robins Air Force Base in fifty-seven, was a Second Lieutenant Grant Bowers," said Jerry.
"Grant Bowers, got it," said Kent while he jotted down that information. It took a couple of minutes, but it hit him like a ton of bricks. "Did you say, Grant Bowers?"
"Yes, I did. I found this off of Allen's APRs."
"APRs? What's an APR?"
"Airman Performance Report. It's done annually for the enlisted, and Lieutenant Grant Bowers signed them for Airman Second Class Derek Allen," said Jerry.
"I know this officer."
"You do? No shit," said Jerry. "From where?"
"He was friends with my daddy back in fifty-seven. They got along since daddy was a Warner Robins police officer and Grant was Air Force Air Police."
"That's way too bizarre with this Derek Allen was being Air Police at Robins."
"No wonder he was scared," said Kent.
"Yeah, Earl filled me in on that documentary. I hope you get this guy."
"I don't know what I can do. It's going to be hard to put a General of the Air Force in prison," said Kent.
"You're probably right," said Jerry. "Listen, call me at area code one, two one, five, five, five, thirteen fourteen if there's anything else I can help you with. I hate it when scum bags like this get away with murder."
"I will and thank you, Jerry," said Kent then hung up.
"My pleasure," said Jerry, and he disconnected his end of the call.
Kent walked back in his couch and thought about the information he received while he sat down. "Grant Bowers. Fucking Grant Bowers!" he said and wondered what should he do. He knew his mother just wanted to forget about that part of her past. His blood started to boil the more he thought about Grant Bowers.
Then he recalled Derek's taped confession "He ran off with his clothes and ran off to his Ford T-Bird, got inside and drove away" words. "How did I miss that?" said Kent when he remembered Grant's Ford T-Bird.
He stayed on the couch, thinking about all he learned recently.
For the next day, it was challenging to stay focused on a report that was due at the end of the day. All Kent could think about was the information he received and what should he do about it.
His eyes lit up with an idea. He grabbed a pencil from his cleaning cart then rushed out of the third-floor ladies bathroom, ran down the stairs to the first floor.
He rushed down the first floor to the payphones by the front doors to the building.
He deposited a quarter into one of the payphones and made a call.
"Jerry Woodstone, how may I help you?"
"Jerry, it's me, Kent Hollister from Cambridge."
"Hey, Kent."
"Listen, I do need a little piece of information. Can you get me the phone number of General Grant Bowers at the Pentagon?"
"Sure, it might take a few minutes. Can I call you back?"
"No problem. I'm at area code six, one, seven, five, five, five, nine, nine, zero, three," said Kent.
"Got it. I'll call soon," said Jerry.
Kent hung up the phone and waited.
Five minutes had passed, and the payphone rang.
"Kent Hollister," he quickly answered the phone.
"Kent, it's me, Jerry."
"Yes, Jerry. I have that number you wanted."
"Great," said Kent, and he grabbed a pencil from his cleaning cart.
"The number you need is area code two, two, zero, five, five, five, eight, one, eight one."
"Area code two, two, zero, five, five, five, eight, one, eight one. Got it and thanks," said Kent while he wrote the number on the wall by the phone with his pencil.
"Keep me informed on what you're going to do."
"I will," said Kent and he hung up the phone then he stared at Grant's phone number on the wall. What should I say? He pondered in his head while he stared at Grant's number. His eyes lit up.
He deposited some more change into the payphone and punched in that phone number. He got nervous while he heard the number he punched in started ringing. He looked around to make sure nobody was near him. The coast was clear.
"General Bowers," said Grant answering the call.
"Ah, General Bowers. The same General Bowers that was stationed at Warner Robins? Back in nineteen fifty-seven?" said Kent into the phone with a low enough voice not to be heard by someone walking by.
There were a few seconds of silence. "Who is this?"
"I know you killed Angie Abbott back in fifty-seven you asshole! You framed an innocent man, and I hope that you'll be put behind bars for the rest of your FUCKING life!" said Kent into the phone then he hung up.
Way over in the Pentagon, General Bowers sat behind his desk. "Hello, who the fuck is this?" he said into his phone then realized the mysterious caller hung up.
He hung up his phone and was baffled with this strange out of the blue phone call.
But General Bowers wasn't worried in the least.
He knew nobody could connect him with Angie's murder. That was so long ago, and he knew he was in the clear. He saw that documentary and knew a recording from a dead man couldn't convict him.
But he still wondered how someone connected him with Angie's murder. "Ah, bullshit," he said and shrugged off that call. But there was the recent accusation that had him a tad worried. "Ah, it's her word against an Air Force General with an impeccable record. I have nothing to worry about," he said with a smirk while reviewing a budget report.
After all, he's been accused before back in, forty-nine, sixty-six and seventy-two and nothing happened. He felt he was untouchable, and so far he was.
A few seconds later, Grant put down his paperwork and glanced back the phone. "But, who the fuck was that?" he muttered, and for a second he got a little nervous with this strange caller. "Who the fuck is also after me?"
Back at MIT, Kent strutted back to the stairs and headed back to the third-floor ladies room.
He returned to cleaning toilets.
After he was done with this building, Kent pushed his cleaning cart down the first-floor hallway.
He went by the payphone and spotted General Bower's phone number still on the wall. "Shit," he muttered and quickly grabbed a cleaner and wipe the evidence of him harassing General Bowers off the wall.
He pushed the cart out of the building and headed back to the janitor's office in a nearby building.
Later that night at his apartment, Kent wanted to forget about Grant Bowers for the evening, as this man weighed heavily on his thoughts all day. So Kent decided to start reading the book Linus gave as a birthday present.
With a glass of iced tea in hand, Kent relaxed on his couch and started reading H.G. Wells The Time Machine book.
Kent was halfway through the first chapter when he recalled something he saw a few weeks ago. He looked at the cover of the book. "No, I can't," he said while a wild idea popped in his head. The more he thought about it, the more he felt that this was his only option.
Kent jumped up off the couch.
He rushed over to his small desk, opened up the middle drawer, and removed an address book.
With the address book in hand, he rushed into the kitchen and over to the phone. He opened up the book, looked up a name, and made a phone call.
"Hello," said Linus from the phone.
"Linus, it's me, Kent."
"Hi Kent, what a lovely surprise to be hearing from you. Do you need something, or are you just calling to say hello?"
"Actually I do need something."
"I'm always available to help. What do you need?"
There was a pause for a few seconds while Kent wondered if he should pursue this idea. "Well, there was this documentary on PBS the other night, and it was about innocent men that were executed."
"That's always a possibility."
"So this documentary mentioned my daddy. And then there's this guy on his death bed that left a confession that he saw an Air Force Officer kill that girl they said daddy killed."
"Why didn't he tell the police back then?"
"He couldn't."
"Why not?"
"He was also in the Air Force. He was gay and with another gay Air Force guy in the woods. The guy that killed that Angie Abbott girl was his Commanding Officer. He feared for his life if he said anything."
"Oh my, that would be a huge dilemma back in those days."
"Did that guy provide the name of the Commanding Officer?"
"No, he died shortly after recording his confession."
"That's a shame."
"But I was able to track down who his Commanding Officer was. He's now a General in the Air Force at the Pentagon. His name is Grant Bowers. And mom and I knew him when we lived back in Warner Robins in fifty-seven." "He was daddy's friend."
"Wow, the plot really thickens. Are you going to the police with this information?"
"No. I don't think they'll do anything since I'll be accusing an Air Force General. Plus I'm using a dead man's word. How can I prove it since it happened twenty-four years ago?"
"You're probably right. So how can I help you?"
Kent paused for a few seconds and wondered if he should ask. He took a breath of courage. "I think that maybe I could use your time machine."
"Use my time machine, why?"
"Well, I was thinking, I mean, I thought that if I use your time machine, I could go back to fifty-seven and record Grant Bowers in the act. I'll have proof that my dad was innocent and framed for murder."
There were a few seconds of silence on the phone.
"Linus, are you still there?"
"Yes. I didn't build my time machine to alter the course of past events. I want to use it to record history as it actually occurred."
"Well, wouldn't this being recording history as it actually occurred?"
A few seconds of silence while Linus thought about Kent's question. "Well, you got me there. But I don't know," said Linus and he paused again. "Let me think about it for a couple of days. I'll call you on Friday evening."
"Okay. Thanks, Linus," said Kent with a hint of disappointment in his voice.
"I'll call you on Friday evening. I promise. Goodnight, Kent," said Linus.
"Goodnight," said Kent and he hung up the phone.
Kent moped back to his living room and sat down on the couch. "Rats," he said while he picked up the H.G. Wells book. He glanced at the cover seeing the illustration of the time machine. He put the book down on the coffee table. He lost interest in reading that story.
He turned on his TV to take his mind off his idea with having Grant Bowers get what he deserves. He spent the rest of the evening watching TV, but his thoughts still drifted off to Grant Bowers.
Thursday arrived, and all Kent could think about at work. At his apartment, that evening, all he could think about was daddy's execution.
Friday morning arrived, and Kent was back to scrubbing toilets at MIT. He was going to forget about the documentary and Grant Bowers. I can't change the past. He thought over and over again.
He spent Friday night at his apartment, and it seemed like forever while he waited for Linus to call. But he knew what his answer would be and that would be he couldn't use the time machine to alter past events.
At eight that night, his phone rang in the kitchen. "Here it comes," said Kent while he headed into the kitchen from the living room.
"Kent," he said, answering the call.
"Kent, it's me, Linus," he said from the phone.
"Linus, I fully understand your reason for not letting me use your time machine to go back and alter the past. I guess it was a dumb idea," said Kent thinking he was beating Linus to the punch.
"Did you change your mind?" said Linus.
"Well, no, I figured based on our call the other night that you won't let me use your machine."
"Well, I did a little research about this Grant Bowers. It appears that he's had a past of being accused of sexually young girls. He's being accused again right now," said Linus.
"That's right. I forgot about that news report on TV when I visited mom a few weeks ago."
"He's a piece of work, and he needs a little justice. So, I say go back and get the bastard."
"Wow, thank you so very much."
"So, what's your plan?"
"My plan?"
"Yeah, you can't just show up back to nineteen fifty-seven without a viable plan. You'll have to blend in so nobody will get suspicious."
"Oh, right, blend in. I didn't think that far ahead."
"Come up with a plan and run it by me. I don't want you getting caught." "And don't forget that the time machine stays in that exact spot in a different time. So you'll have to find transportation to where you need to go."
"That'll be Warner Robins, Georgia."
"Yes, Warner Robins. Again, the time machine will drop you off in fifty-seven then return back to this time. So you'll have to be back in Cambridge at the selected return time," said Linus.
"Okay I understand the rules, I will and thank you so very much, Linus."
"It's my pleasure. Now, call me on Sunday evening with your plan, and we'll go from there."
"I will, and bye for now."
"Bye and I'll talk to you on Sunday," said Linus and he disconnected his end of the call.
Kent hung his phone and did a victory dance out of the kitchen.
He danced into the living room and over to his desk. He opened up the top drawer and removed a pad of paper and pen.
He victory danced over to the couch, sat down, and jotted down a few ideas for his time traveling plans.