by Davis Bunn
Then Stephen gave his traditional smile, gentle and forgiving. “What’s the point of that, sir? A lot of struggle and trouble, and nothing to show for it in the end.”
Daniel did not respond.
Stephen reached for a bottle and poured another shot of whisky into the glass Daniel had not yet touched. “Change isn’t worth the effort, if you ask me.”
Daniel waited until the bartender moved down the bar to rise from his stool. He dropped two hundred-dollar notes on the surface and headed for the exit.
CHAPTER 47
To his utter astonishment, though he had only slept a couple of hours, Daniel woke refreshed. He lay there a moment, reflecting back on other mornings after a session at the Marmont. The sweat-stained sheets, his own foul odor, the uncertainty of where he was or what he had done. Instead, Daniel rose and dressed and stretched and went for a dawn run.
As he left the hotel, Daniel thought about what Nicole had said their first day together. The joy she had known when he took her to the zoo. Daniel had no idea what zoo she was talking about. It was entirely possible he had driven her down to San Diego, in a state that had endangered them both. He had often been told by friends about trips he had taken, driving himself and others, journeys that he could not recall. Being straight only heightened the burn of guilt and regret over such past events. Daniel used the next several drumbeats of breath and steps to stamp down hard on both the emotions and the thoughts. Now was not the time.
The storm had left a crystalline freshness on the light and the air. He needed to set a number of things in motion, and running helped. The steady beat of his track shoes on the sidewalk aligned the torrent of thoughts into a single, unified stream. Forty-five minutes later, he returned to the hotel and stretched at poolside.
He felt . . . clean.
As he took the elevator up to his floor, he decided that clean didn’t go far enough.
He felt ready.
For what, he had no idea. And for that one sweet moment, he decided it really didn’t matter.
* * *
Daniel showered, dressed, and found the two young ladies downstairs in the breakfast room. Chloe sat beside a silent Nicole, eating oatmeal and fresh fruit. Nicole played with her food, but Daniel did not see the spoon actually reach her mouth. He prepared a bowl of yogurt and berries and granola. The coffee was awful, so he ordered tea. He would stop somewhere on the road later for an espresso.
Nicole broke the table’s silence with, “You look better this morning.”
He saw no reason to disagree. “I had a lot on my mind last night.”
Chloe huffed a humorless laugh. “Join the crowd.”
Nicole asked, “What’s the matter?” When he stayed quiet, she pressed, “We showed you ours. Now it’s your turn.”
“It’s about the station,” Daniel began. “I’ve known Kirsten for years.”
Chloe asked, “The ice lady?”
Daniel thought the tea tasted almost as bad as the coffee, but drank anyway. “She’s probably going to ask me to come back. Permanently.”
“Back to LA?”
He nodded. “She and the station attorney stayed in the production booth through yesterday’s broadcast. Afterward I spotted her watching the tape with a couple of suits. I recognized one of them from before. He’s on the West Coast board of advisers. At least, he was.”
Chloe shook her head. “Imagine that. A ticket to the big time. How awful for you.” When Nicole gave her a long look, Chloe said, “What?”
Nicole asked Daniel, “If you don’t want it, just say no.”
Chloe snorted.
“That’s just it,” Daniel replied. “I don’t know whether I want it or not.”
Nicole gave him the same sort of look she had given Chloe. “You mean, you want it, but you don’t know if you can do it and stay straight.”
“That’s it, exactly,” Daniel said.
“You liked being back,” Nicole said. Not asking. Saying.
“You were great,” Chloe said. “I believed everything you said. I enjoyed it. And I don’t know a thing about business.”
“It was so exciting, watching you perform,” Nicole agreed.
“I never thought of it that way before,” Chloe said. “Not just reading the news. Performing.”
“You were living it, and so was I.” Nicole tasted a microscopic spoonful of her meal. “I like what Stella told you before that first broadcast.”
“That was private.”
“Then she shouldn’t have said it when we were all crammed together in that little room,” Chloe said.
Nicole went on, “You’re not the same person.”
“You don’t know that,” Daniel said. “You can’t. Not after what, two weeks?”
Nicole did not give him an inch. “I know you’re not the man who was so stoned he doesn’t remember the last time he hugged me.”
“Wait,” Chloe said. “What?”
“I know the words you say and the smile you show me are real. I know you’re there for me.” And all of a sudden, she was struggling not to cry. “I know you didn’t judge me after I wrecked my parents’ marriage. I know you looked beneath the surface and saw why I did what I did, even when I couldn’t put it into words. I know you care.”
Daniel had no idea what to say.
Chloe said, “She’s right. You know she is.”
He tasted the air, managed, “Helping people doesn’t mean I’m strong enough to go back.”
“It might,” Chloe said. “You’ll never know unless you try.”
Daniel started to reply that he wasn’t even sure he wanted to. Try.
Nicole must have read the thought on his features, for she said, “You want it. You’ll do it. And you’ll be great.”
Chloe asked, “What would it be like if you didn’t try?” Her features became as crimped as Nicole’s. “What if you stayed in your safe little world? What would it be like when it’s over, and they don’t want you anymore? What if you never had the chance to see if you could make it work for real?”
Daniel thought that made for a fairly good moment to say, “We should get started.”
* * *
Daniel drove to the LA train station, bought Chloe a ticket to San Luis Obispo, and carried her bag to the platform. As they watched the train pull in, Chloe asked, “What if my folks won’t let me come back?”
Daniel crowded in close enough to fill her field of vision. “That’s not going to happen and you know it.”
Chloe tried to move away, far enough to see beyond the train’s open door. “I’m here. Maybe I should just stay.”
Daniel closed the distance a second time. “Chloe, look at me. You’re doing the right thing.”
“I’m so scared.”
“I know you are, and it’s okay to feel that way. You are going home for all the right reasons. And you have friends who are going to see you through this.” He moved closer still. “This is just another step in your dream come true.”
“Will you call them and say what’s happening?”
“I’ve already spoken to them twice.” Daniel had told her all this before. “They’re both coming into San Lu to meet the train. They understand this is temporary. They have agreed to drive you back down and get you settled at Lisa’s.”
She wrapped her arms around his chest. Strong. “When my prince charming shows up, I hope he’s at least a little like you.”
* * *
Daniel and Nicole made the drive to Bel Air in utter silence. He parked in the same place as the previous day, just down from the driveway, sheltered by the blooming magnolia. The plate-size blossoms filled the car with their scent, a promise of better times. Daniel cut the motor and turned to his niece. “Do you want to do this?”
“It all seemed so clear and simple, you know, before we drove to LA.”
“Chloe will be moving in later this week. It will give you the perfect reason to wait—”
“If I don’t go now, it will haunt me.”
He nodded. He thought so too. “I’ll come if you want.”
“No.” Quiet but certain. “Mom always said two people make an audience.”
“I remember that.”
“If you’re there, she won’t . . .”
“React to you honestly. I agree. You have me on speed dial?”
Nicole held up her phone.
Daniel opened his door, walked around, waited for her to stand, then held her tightly. Wishing there was some way to fill her with his own strength, he said, “You are the bravest person I know.”
She turned and walked up the drive. Shoulders hunched. Alone.
* * *
Twice during the forty-five minutes he sat there, Daniel started to make the call. The pressure on him to get the ball rolling was intense. Stella’s look of caring trust branded him now. Sitting on his hands, watching the pickup’s digital clock count down her hours of freedom, were very hard indeed.
But when Nicole emerged from the house and walked back to the truck, he knew he had been right to wait.
She opened her door and slid into her seat and just sat there, wearing the same miserable, broken expression as that first day, outside the Miramar church. Daniel fought down a surge of rage over the young woman’s pain. He could not insert himself into the situation any further. He could not do what he wanted, which was to march up the drive and give his sister a dose of his fury. He could not tell his niece that everything would be okay.
But he could say, “I know this is a hard moment for you. But Stella’s freedom is on the line.”
“I . . . what?”
“We need to contact the Ukrainian,” Daniel said.
“Now?”
He nodded. “I tried from my room. He said to call back.” Actually, what had happened was, Daniel had called and asked if they could talk later. But still. He tapped the radio-clock. “Every minute counts.”
“Daniel . . .”
“It’s your idea, Nicole. You don’t need to speak. But you do need to hear this. Just in case you can come up with the next step.” He waited for her to object, then added, “I really need your help. And so does Stella.”
She snuffled, wiped her face, said, “Okay.”
“Thanks.” He instantly hit redial.
The Ukrainian in Alabama answered with, “Are you alone this time?”
“I’m with the lady who came up with what I think is a great idea.”
“Good, great, awful, is all the same. I deal with just one person.” When Daniel remained silent, he went on, “I should charge you triple, all these people in our very private conversation.”
Further argument would get them nowhere, so Daniel launched straight into the concept. When he was done, the phone stayed silent.
Daniel said, “Hello?”
“This is the sound of me thinking.” Another couple of minutes, then, “So explain precisely what you want.”
Daniel looked at Nicole. Willing her to emerge from everything she’d just been through and see.
Nicole sniffed, wiped her face, and said, “There is no precise.”
“Explain this.”
“What if there are other small towns,” Nicole said. “Places like Miramar, with good finances, a strong . . . what do you call it?”
“Pension fund,” Daniel said.
“You should tell him.”
“It’s your idea,” he replied. “You’re on a roll.”
“Somebody please move into a forward gear,” the Ukrainian said.
“Other towns doing okay,” Nicole said.
“They need to be in solid financial positions,” Daniel explained. “Otherwise the state will have watchdogs in place, monitoring their every move.”
“These towns discover someone in authority has stolen funds,” Nicole said.
“And when the supposedly guilty person is arrested, they claim someone else stole. They were set up. They took the fall,” Daniel said.
The Ukrainian cleared his throat. “So I am looking for . . .”
“Towns that have declared their pension funds or city accounts show missing funds,” Daniel replied. “You know this because there have been recent arrests.”
“And all the while,” Nicole said, “the real villain stays hidden.”
“It would probably be good to look at other states in the region with wealthy municipalities,” Daniel said.
A hint of the former Nicole emerged with the words, “Maybe check on the Miramar mayor again. See if she’s hiding something.”
Daniel reached over and touched her arm. “See? This is why you needed to be here.”
“You like?”
“It’s great.” He raised his voice a notch. “Tell her it’s great.”
“Okay, so maybe I don’t charge you triple after all,” the Ukrainian replied. “But I’m telling you, I checked this woman mayor out.”
Daniel said, “You checked her money trail. But what if it’s not money?”
Their hacker remained silent.
“What if she’s passing on everything she steals?”
“She’s got a secret,” Nicole said. “Something so bad she’ll do anything to keep it hidden.”
“Okay, enough. I have the scent.” The man barked like a dog. “I will see where it takes me.”
The line went dead.
CHAPTER 48
Daniel drove to a shopping mall down from the John Wayne Airport and entered Brooks Brothers. He selected a navy gabardine, off-the-rack suit and matching shirt and tie, articles he wouldn’t have been seen dead in back when such things as the labels on his clothes mattered. As his trousers were being measured for hemming, he asked Nicole if she was hungry. She seemed surprised by the question, as if food shouldn’t be part of such a traumatic day. Daniel then asked the saleswoman where she would go for a fast lunch. They were directed two blocks south to a low-rent strip mall housing a taqueria between a Laundromat and a payday loan shop. The pulled chicken and homemade salsa verde was some of the best he had ever eaten.
Daniel picked up his new clothes, then returned to the hotel and left his pickup with the valet. He and Nicole took the tram up to CityWalk. Despite the fierce heat and the overlay of humidity from the storm, the crowds were even thicker than the previous day. The high temperature served as a vise, compressing his thoughts into a tight focus. By the time they arrived at the station, Daniel was as ready as he would ever be.
From the moment he and Nicole entered the foyer, the situation changed. The intern on reception duty had clearly been alerted, because he positioned Daniel, took a photograph, and printed out a plasticized ID. Daniel then pointed to Nicole and said, “Issue her one as well.”
“I don’t have any instructions—”
“As of today, she’s a salaried researcher, news division,” Daniel said. “Do it.”
Nicole took her place in front of the mini-camera and whispered, “For real?”
“It’s time,” he said. “A reward for all the good ideas you’re going to have.”
He watched a smile grow and felt so good about the move his chest hurt. He could still see the puffy remains of Nicole’s recent tears, like they had the power to stain her features. But she was recovering now. She was looking beyond. Daniel took a long breath and smiled in return.
* * *
Whenever Daniel looked back upon what happened next, it seemed as like his view was filtered through drifting smoke. It was as though a massive California blaze had roared through the next valley, leaving cinders and waving heat and hazy vision. That was how close it seemed they were to utter ruin, standing in tinder-dry brush, waiting for their world to ignite.
Daniel was fairly certain the idea came to him and Nicole in the very same instant, as if they were both so exposed and vulnerable, the station’s electric tension created a telepathic bond.
They had just entered the makeup room when it began. Doris was still tucking the paper towels around his collar when the door pushed open and Kirsten entered. Ray, her
in-house attorney, followed. “We need to talk.”
“Go ahead.”
Kirsten glanced at Nicole. “Give us a minute, please.”
“Nicole, stay where you are.”
“Handing her a badge and a title does not . . .” She caught something in Daniel’s gaze and changed course. “You sure that’s how you want it?”
“Say your piece.”
“Grant has actually topped your record for mayhem. He parked a stolen police motorcycle—”
“Allegedly stolen,” Ray said.
“—in the middle of the Strip and proceeded to do just that. The hospital claims he had ingested a brand-new pharmaceutical developed for African game preserves.”
“Which is so new it’s not actually illegal,” Ray added. “Yet.”
“He may or may not be released this evening. The question is, do we want him back?” She crossed her arms. “We’ve managed to contact our number two, and she’s promised to return in time for Monday’s show. But our board doesn’t feel she’s ready for the top slot. Which brings us to . . .”
Which was when the idea struck them. Daniel and Nicole. At the very same instant.
Daniel did not actually laugh. It was more like the bark of alarm that Goldie might make at the first rumble of thunder. Nicole drew in a sharp breath, and her eyes went totally round. Right then.
Kirsten demanded, “Just hear me out.”
In response, Daniel turned to Nicole, “What you told the Ukrainian. Say you’re right.”
Nicole was already on her feet. “What if the mayor isn’t taking what she’s stealing.”
“She’s just the conduit.”
Kirsten said, “I’m the one talking here.”
Daniel went on, “It’s been staring us in the face.”
Nicole said, “If she’s not taking the money . . .”
Daniel said, “We completely missed how Stella handed us the key.”
Nicole started a tight little two-step, shifting from one foot to the other. “The mayor’s not an accountant!”
Daniel leaned over in the chair to pull out his phone. “I can’t believe we didn’t see this before.”