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    Jedidiah Washington
    Jedidiah Washington
    Jedidiah Washington
    Ebook101 pages1 hour

    Jedidiah Washington

    By Harvey Degree

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    About this ebook

    Jedidiah Washington is an award-winning journalist for the Carver City Post. When he refuses to back away from a story on Libertore, a secret society of powerful individuals, he finds himself unemployed and unemployable. Jedidiah continues his mission to expose the influential and underground group, but when he is falsely accused of murdering a crime syndicate boss, he becomes a fugitive, searching for evidence to clear his name. There lies the great divide between what Jedidiah knows and what he can prove. Who framed him and why?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHarvey Degree
    Release dateDec 17, 2017
    ISBN9781370810130
    Jedidiah Washington
    Author

    Harvey Degree

    Harvey Butaleon Degree, Sr. graduated in 1975 from Cherryville Senior High School, where he wrote articles and poetry for the yearbook and the Cherry Leaves school newspaper. He enlisted in the Navy as a Dental Technician and served duty in Adak, Alaska, Jacksonville, Florida, and aboard the aircraft carrier USS Forrestal CV-59 home ported in Mayport, Florida. Harvey wrote articles and drew covers for the Adak Call newspaper and the CV-59 Family Gram. After the death of his mother in August of ’86, he volunteered his time to the Cleveland County Homeless Shelter. Harvey is the father of two sons. Harvey Jr., a graduate of Appalachian State and DeVry University. Cory a graduate of Wingate University. Harvey wrote his first book, a novel The Pedestal, in 1995. He wrote a second follow up novel Lone Assumption in 1998. Harvey coached baseball, basketball and football and served as an assistant Boy Scout Leader never missing an opportunity to go camping. The author received a Certificate of Recognition from the Cleveland County Board of Commissioners in 2006 for his community volunteer work. A 2009 graduate of the University of Phoenix with a Bachelor of Computer Science Visual Communication and Graphic Design degree. Harvey has a wide range of interest that include playing drums, writing novels, writing song lyrics, reading, building web sites, and computer repair.

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      Book preview

      Jedidiah Washington - Harvey Degree

      One

      They were thirsty to convict him.

      But they had to prove it first.

      They, being Libertore.

      Most people would like to think if they were in a life or death situation there would be that one person who would move heaven and earth to come to their rescue. Jedidiah Washington had no such person.

      Jedidiah knew from the moment jury selection began that he didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of walking the streets of Carver City a free man again. The long reaching arms of Libertore had penetrated into the courthouse. Libertore planned to sandbag Jedidiah’s case by giving him a dumbass public defender. A fresh-faced punk whose balls they could squeeze. Jedidiah was aware of their plan and had already made preparations. He would steer the public defender in the direction to expose Libertore. Most people believed Libertore was a myth fabricated in the nineties by a Carver City Post reporter named Jacob Ross. Ross became a legend at the paper for bringing down the Mayor, the Governor, and a few other high-profile individuals.

      Jedidiah had been a reporter at the Post for almost eleven years. In that time, he worked closely with Ross and listened hours on end to him tell stories about Libertore. He’d said that if such an order as the Illuminati were to exist, the Libertore would be their equivalent.

      Jedidiah flipped open the dossier in front of him and glanced over the information Ross had provided to help with his defense. It was a detailed history of how Libertore originated.

      Ross had been skeptical at first, but after Garcia’s sister, Shirley was murdered due to mistaken identity, he accepted her request. Together Ross and Garcia uncovered four key players. A prominent lawyer, a distinguished minister, the Governor, and Jedidiah’s uncle, a gas station attendant. These Vietnam War heroes all formed a private hate club in 1975 called Take over America.

      Ross, Garcia, and a woman named Angela dug up every-thing needed to expose Libertore. Except the courts didn’t recognize Libertore as a secret society, but as an assembly of people who got arrested doing illegal things.

      Jedidiah couldn’t afford an attorney so the state of North Carolina provided one for him. Henry Fowler looked to be in his early thirties, just beginning to go bald. He wore a dated pair of plastic frame glasses with thick lenses and a brown suit Jedidiah could have sworn he’d seen on sale at Fredrick’s Bargain Basement. This was further proof for Jedidiah to believe this case wouldn’t end in his favor.

      The moment Jedidiah first laid eyes on Henry he knew the man graduated at the bottom of his law class. How did he know? When the two of them sat down for their first inter-view, Henry opened up his worn U. S. Luggage bag to retrieve a legal pad and found, to his surprise, it was missing. He muttered something under his breath about having left it back at the office. In need of something to take notes on, Henry placed a small notepad on the table. Next the court appointed attorney produced a cheap Papermate ink pen. Jedidiah didn’t know how much the state was paying Henry to defend him but he clearly understood he should not make any type of plans, travel or otherwise, for the next twenty to thirty years. Dumb looking and unkempt as he was, Henry seemed to figure he could get Jedidiah freed.

      Jedidiah wasn’t stupid. It was Henry’s job to say dumb shit like that. Jedidiah took a moment to study the jury. A jury of Jedidiah’s peers consisted of six white men, four white women, one black man and one Hispanic woman. The two alternate jurors were white middle-aged men. The black man was three shades lighter than Jedidiah, shiny baldhead, and wore a nice expensive suit. By contrast, Jedidiah’s hair was done up in dreadlocks and his clothes off the clearance rack at Kmart.

      Juror five was a Hispanic woman with tattoos covering both arms in the shape of samurai swords. Beautiful teeth, gorgeous smile. Her long dark, silky hair framed her face well. She wore tight little outfits to court that made the six men on the jury pay her special attention. Her broken English made Jedidiah question if she understood enough of what the judge said.

      Juror three was a man with longish white hair tied back in a ponytail. Tall and athletically built, he talked loud even when he was trying to whisper. The bailiff had to give the loud mouth the evil eye on several occasions during the first two days of jury selection. Jedidiah took the man to be the kind accustomed to talking loudly to get other’s attention.

      Sitting in the courtroom, being treated and painted to look like a criminal, made Jedidiah more determined than ever to expose Libertore. The Libertore, like the Free Masons and Bilderberg, is the hidden and driving force of society and currently trying to drive right over Jedidiah. Less than two weeks after confiding in his editor that he wanted to do a piece on Libertore, Jedidiah was given his walking papers. The official term for his sudden dismissal was economic downsizing. Yet, Jedidiah knew the paper was in the black. He’d stepped on the wrong toes. Before such an article was allowed to be printed, Libertore would smash him like a bug. It was pure insanity for Jedidiah to think he could trip a giant. Libertore was now going to chew him up and spit him out in a court of law as an example of their power.

      Ten months passed without Jedidiah finding employment. Interviewers seemed optimistic at first but most of them never gave him a call back. Of those that did, he was told the position had been filled. Jedidiah knew, but couldn’t prove, Libertore was the reason he was being blackballed. Yet he continued to talk about Libertore to anyone who would listen.

      A sudden motion caused Jedidiah to turn his attention back to the jury. Juror nine was bent over picking something up he had dropped in front of him. He was a man so damn skinny that if he were to skip lunch on a windy day, they would never see him again. He stood about five-six or five-seven with blond hair cut rather short. When Jedidiah looked him in the face, he felt the wrongs of the universe competing for the man’s soul.

      Juror four was a woman with short-styled gray hair, streaked with diminishing shades of black. Jedidiah couldn’t help but notice how genuinely polite she had been during the selection process and thought for certain the prosecutor would dismiss her. Try as he may, Jedidiah couldn’t see her returning a guilty verdict with such flimsy evidence the state had against him.

      Juror eleven was a man with a shiny baldpate and

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