What She Never Said

by Catharine Riggs

  “Okay, then,” she says once it quiets down. “I want you to know we’ve spent weeks examining our health-care offerings and have concluded that it’s time for a change. We are ready to acknowledge here and now that we have gotten things 100 percent wrong.”

  We have?

  “It’s high time we empower you, our fantastic, brilliant employees, with your God-given right to freedom of choice. We are embarking on a program that will allow each and every one of you to take control over your own lives.”

  There’s a smattering of applause. The crowd mostly seems confused. But that doesn’t seem to bother Charlese. She beams in an awkward way and bobs her head several times. Enough of the sleight of hand, I think. Let’s get to the point.

  “So today, I’m here to announce that all of you will be receiving a 3 percent raise beginning January 1.” She’s quiet for a moment while thunderous clapping ensues, underscored by several shouts and whistles. “On that same date, you will have the freedom to choose your own health care. We will no longer force you onto a company plan.”

  What?

  Her words speed up. “We will assist you in setting up a health savings account at the bank of your choice. In fact, we will contribute a full $1,000 to each of your accounts.” There’s another round of applause here that includes a few whoops. Oh my God. Are you kidding me? Can’t you see the spin?

  “In addition,” Charlese continues, “we’ve hired a consultant that will assist each and every one of you with finding the health-care plan of your dreams.”

  I take a deep breath and look around me. Does the staff understand what they’ve lost? Serenity Acres will no longer be offering health care to their employees and families. No 3 percent raise or $1,000 bonus will ever make up for that. Then it dawns on me. Not only will the staff be losing health care, I’ll be losing mine too. I can’t afford that. No one can. But how is this possible? Isn’t it counter to the federal health-care laws? I have to speak to Kai. Convince him this is wrong.

  “Is she saying what I think she’s saying?” Zach whispers, leaning close.

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “But what about my knee? My operation is scheduled for January.”

  “Could you move up the date?”

  “I already tried, but the clinic refused. They said it wasn’t an emergency.”

  “Maybe you should make it one.”

  “You mean hurt myself?”

  “You never heard that from me.” I focus my attention on Kai, who looks like he’s swallowed the proverbial canary. “Let them eat cake,” I mutter.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Let me talk to Kai. I doubt he’s thought through the ramifications of this decision. He’s never even discussed the issue with me.”

  “Or maybe he has thought through the ramifications, and it’s all about his bonus and the goddamn bottom line.”

  I open my mouth to argue but then shut it. Of course. Zach is absolutely right.

  Four

  Monday, September 30

  I push through the throngs of employees and make my way to the stage. While a handful of staff members are celebrating, many others appear dazed. A few are speaking angrily, and I can’t say I disagree. There is no jackpot at the end of this rainbow. Management has pulled a con.

  I climb the steps to where Kai and Charlese are chatting like the oldest of friends. I barge right in and tap Kai on the shoulder. “I have to speak to you.”

  “Hello, Ruth,” Kai says, grinning at Charlese. “This is the one I’ve been telling you about. Our VP of operations.”

  This?

  Charlese nods and holds out her hand. Close up she’s not so pretty. And she’s definitely not so young. Her face looks like it’s been frozen by Botox. “I look forward to working with you,” she says in her singsong voice.

  “Me too.” I reluctantly take her hand before turning my attention to Kai. “Why wasn’t I seated with the management team?”

  Kai acts bewildered. “I’m sorry. Did you feel left out?”

  “Left out?” I want to strangle him. “You know I’m part of senior management. What do the employees think?”

  He takes on a thoughtful tone. “Gosh. I’m sorry. You were sick on Friday, so I thought you might want to catch up on your work. I didn’t think about the visual. I apologize.”

  For a moment his apology confuses me. But then I get back on track. “Can I speak with you in private?”

  Kai tugs his cell phone from his pocket, scrolls, and shakes his head. “Love to,” he says, “but let’s make it tomorrow. Don’t want to be late for Kali class.”

  “But I need to speak with you now.” That last word bursts from me like a gunshot. I try to ignore Charlese’s surprised look.

  Kai shrugs, looking unhappy. “I guess we can talk on the way to my car.”

  “That’s fine.”

  I follow Kai down the steps and across the auditorium, a new leather knapsack bumping against his back. Once we step outside, I dig in.

  “I should’ve been included in such a momentous decision.”

  “Momentous decision? What are you talking about?”

  “Ending health care for our employees.”

  “Well, if you’d been here on Friday . . .”

  “Are you serious?” I just might slap him. “I miss one day in ten years, and that’s the day you eliminate key benefits?”

  Kai places a finger to his lips, signaling I should keep my voice down. We hurry by several clumps of anxious-looking employees and then sidle by Adam and Ember. Adam turns away with a pinched expression, but Ember offers us a sweet smile. “Nice program,” she says.

  “Thank you,” Kai replies. He lowers his voice as we pass. “You should get rid of that girl.”

  “Who? Ember?”

  He chuckles. “That’s her name? Wow. Anyway, I’m serious about letting her go. She doesn’t fit in with our brand.”

  “Because of her looks?”

  “Why else?”

  “So everyone who works here has to be attractive?”

  “No, but they shouldn’t be horribly disfigured. It’s really hard to take.”

  “You know what you’re suggesting is illegal?”

  “Not if it stays between us.” Kai picks up his pace, and I try to focus my thoughts as we dash along the path to the parking lot. I’ve got a lot of questions to ask. I’ll deal with his Ember comment later.

  “Who made the decision to fire Molly?” I ask.

  Kai slows his pace. “She wasn’t fired.”

  “I happen to know she had no intention of retiring.”

  He straightens his bandana. “Truth is, we came to realize she wasn’t a team player.”

  “We?”

  “Corporate.”

  I try to keep my voice calm. “I’m guessing she didn’t agree with the decision on health care.”

  “You’re guessing right.”

  “Well, I disagree with you too.”

  Kai lets out a frustrated sigh. “You heard Charlese. The employees will get a raise and a thousand dollars in the bank.”

  “That won’t begin to cover their health-care costs.”

  “Not our problem.”

  “But it is.”

  “In what way?”

  I think of Zach and his failing knee. “We have a responsibility to our staff. We . . . we can’t treat them like . . . like rubbish.”

  Kai smirks. “Since when do you give a damn about the staff?”

  “I always have.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Well, I do now. Anyway, I know of at least one employee who has an operation scheduled in January. The loss of coverage will be disastrous.”

  “She can up the date.”

  “Maybe he can’t.”

  “Well, then, he’ll have to figure it out.”

  “But we’re talking tens of thousands of dollars.”

  “I think you’re exaggerating to make your point.”

  “I’m not.” I fumble f
or the right words to make my case. “I believe dropping health care is a bad business decision.”

  “How so?”

  “We’ll lose our best people. They’ll go elsewhere.”

  “Where to?”

  “To Peaceful Pastures, for example.”

  “No, they won’t.”

  I open my mouth to argue, and then I think back on Kai’s meeting with the Doughboy. Could he be colluding with the local retirement homes? I try another tack.

  “I believe what you’re doing is illegal.”

  “Well, I’ll pass that on to the corporate lawyers who have determined otherwise.”

  We arrive at Kai’s shiny black BMW, where he dons a pair of reflective sunglasses before turning to me with a frown. “Look,” he says, “if we lose a few disgruntled employees, that’s not the worst thing that could happen. It’ll only make us leaner and meaner. And the improvement to the bottom line from reducing our health-care expense is almost magical in its immediacy.”

  I say the next words knowing they’ll cause trouble. “Aren’t you supposed to be a Christian? Care for others and that kind of thing?”

  Kai’s cheeks flame red. “Don’t involve my religion in this.” He throws open his car door and slides into his seat. “The point is, we’re a corporation, not a nonprofit. You need to get that through your head.”

  “But . . .”

  “If it’s your own health care you’re worried about, you needn’t be. Level fives and above will retain benefits.”

  “This is bigger than me.”

  “Well that’s noble of you. Now, I’ve got to get going.”

  “So there’s no chance you’ll reconsider?”

  “None.”

  “Well, I’m . . .” Kai slams the door shut on my words. He guns the car motor and then rolls down the window. My face reflects oddly in his glasses. “You should know that Molly resisted change, and now she’s gone.”

  “What’re you saying?”

  “I’m reminding you that as a member of the management team, you’re expected to support corporate decisions. And along those lines, I’m still waiting on that list.”

  I pretend to not know what he’s talking about. “List?”

  “The list of destitutes ranked by what they owe? You couldn’t have forgotten. I’ve sent several requests.”

  “No, I haven’t forgotten.”

  “So where is it?”

  “It’s just . . . well, I’ve been busy.”

  He scowls. “I asked you for that information weeks ago, and now corporate is asking me. Every day you lag results in the loss of thousands of dollars. That will have a direct effect on both your bonus and mine.”

  “You understand you’re evicting them. Or what’s left of them.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Does it seem strange that five destitutes have passed away in as many weeks?”

  “Are you insinuating something?”

  I straighten and place my hands on my hips, aware I’m out on a limb. “We may need the coroner to investigate.”

  “Investigate? Are you crazy?”

  “No, I’m not. There’s something weird going on.”

  “Weird?” Kai slaps his steering wheel. “That’s enough. I don’t want to hear anything more about your crazy theories. And I do not want the coroner notified, understand me? We are going to be facing enough bad press due to the Milo situation. We don’t need you to add fuel to the fire.”

  “But . . .”

  “But nothing. You work for me, remember? I’m your boss. You can either keep your thoughts to yourself, or you can resign. Your choice.” Kai revs his motor and zooms off. I’m about to shout after him when my cell phone chimes and Alice’s face lights up the screen. I haven’t spoken to her in weeks. Just a few texts here and there.

  “Hi, sweetheart,” I say. “How are you? Is everything okay?” There’s stone silence on the other end. “Are you there, Alice?” My pulse races as I remember the awful call I received from the Miami Police Department a few years ago. A drunk bandmate had tried to rape Alice, but she’d been able to fight him off. She escaped with a broken wrist and a cut on her neck that needed two dozen stitches to close. She’d been a changed person after that, her confidence swept away. It took a year for her to regain her singing voice. God, don’t let history repeat. “Please talk to me,” I say, gasping for air. “Or should I call 911?”

  “Is it true?” she asks in a flat voice.

  “Is what true?” My heart drops.

  “You know what I’m asking.” She sounds so harsh, I catch my breath. Of course I know.

  “It was a long time ago, and your dad . . .”

  “Don’t even try to blame this on Dad.”

  “But . . .”

  “How could you do that to Adam? How could you do that to me?” The screen goes dark, and I bow my head. I let a few tears flow before I swallow my guilt and stumble my way to the memorial garden, my heart heavy in my chest.

  Five

  Monday, September 30

  “I’m sure you’re pissed,” Zach says as soon as I step into the garden. “But I think deep down you know we did the right thing.”

  I stare at him, trying to ascertain my feelings, something I’ve avoided for far too many years. “I am upset,” I say. “But not at you.” Nor Adam. Nor Alice. There’s only one person I’m truly disappointed in, and that’s myself. I drop onto the cement bench, hot and sweaty. The desert winds are blowing, and the temperature’s been rising all day. Even the koi look sluggish.

  “So, you’re not mad at me?”

  “No. You did what you had to do.”

  He nods and takes a seat on the bench and reaches for my hand. “I don’t want to lose you as a friend. You’re important to me.”

  I smile, but I don’t look up. “I appreciate that. But life as I know it is over.”

  “Things may look bad at the moment, but I’m sure Adam will come around.”

  “Are you?” I gently tug my hand from his grip. “Because I’m not.”

  “I’ll talk to him.”

  “I doubt that’ll help.”

  “Maybe Alice could intervene.”

  I swallow a bitter laugh and tell Zach about her call.

  “Too bad,” he says, looking discouraged. “I guess it might just be you and me for a while.” He crosses his arms. “At least I got rid of Tina.”

  “Tina?” I eye him like he’s crazy. “What’re you talking about?”

  “I’ve never told you, but she’s been in here all along.” He thumps the side of his head. “She said she’d never leave until we told the truth about that day.”

  “She speaks to you?”

  “She did.”

  “And you’ve been living like this for . . . ?”

  “For twenty years.”

  “Is that why you drank?”

  “In part . . . I also drank to forget.”

  “And she hates me, I suppose.”

  “Well . . .”

  “That’s okay. I’d hate me too.” I take a shivering breath, thinking of the destruction I’ve wrought. “Is she gone now?”

  “I hope so. I haven’t heard a word since Friday.”

  “Thank God.”

  “Yes, thank God. Although . . .”

  I glance at him sideways. “Although what?”

  “I think I’m going to miss her. It gets lonely living alone.”

  “I know.”

  We sit quietly for several moments, and then Zach glances at his watch. “Anyway. I don’t have much time. You ready to hear what I learned about the Goodnight Club?”

  I pull my thoughts together. “If you’re ready to hear about Detective Ruiz.”

  Zach snaps to attention. “Why? What happened?”

  “He came to my office this morning, asking questions. I think he’s on to Adam. I mean, he doesn’t seem especially bright, but still . . .”

  “Don’t let him fool you.”

  “What do you
mean?”

  “He’s smart. Exceptionally so. But sometimes he likes to play the part of the fool. He’s outed a lot of criminals that way.”

  “Good to know.” I think back on our conversation. Wonder if I said anything that could lead him to Adam and the truth behind his lie.

  “So what kind of questions did he ask?”

  “Mostly about Adam’s background. History of drug use. Where he met Nikki. The fight in Palmdale. He even knew Adam had been arrested in high school.”

  Zach lets out a low whistle. “That record’s been expunged. He would’ve had to dig hard for that information.”

  “Which means?”

  “He’s on to something.”

  I scour Zach’s face. “What’re you saying?”

  “That I’m worried. Javier has a lot of leads to run down, so why focus on Adam?”

  “Could he have learned that Adam was planning to buy drugs from Milo?”

  “If he did, we’re screwed. All three of us.”

  I get to my feet, feeling sick. “Oh, Zach, what’re we going to do?”

  “I’m not sure. I’ll have to think on this. We may need to tell Javier the truth.”

  “But that could mean . . .”

  “Jail, yeah. At least for me and Adam.” He slouches low on the bench.

  “Oh my God.” I begin to pace.

  “What I want to avoid is a murder charge.”

  “Murder?” I stop in my tracks. “Why would you be charged with murder?”

  “If they don’t find the perpetrator, the circumstantial evidence may lead them to Adam and me.”

  “No . . .”

  “Yes. With Adam’s history of drugs and the accusation of violence and my years of alcohol abuse, well . . . that’s bad enough. Add in the fact that we lied . . . shit. I’d arrest us too.”

  I drop on my knees and take Zach by the shoulders. “You can’t let this happen, understand? It would destroy Adam. It would destroy you.” It would destroy me. I give him a shake. “For God’s sake, you were a good detective at one time. You need to investigate this yourself.”

  His blue eyes search mine, and for the briefest of moments I think he might take me in his arms. Instead, he gets up and holds out his hand to help me to my feet.

  “You’re right. Let me think on this during my shift. Maybe I can dig up a lead or two.”