The Way Things Seem

by Mackey Chandler

  “I’m only an hour from home,” David said. “I was just too tired yesterday to drive the rest of the way safely. I could call somebody from my company, or just get a car service to take me that far.”

  The cop nodded and David could see him reassess his estimate of David’s station in life. He was wearing cheap casual clothing, but spoke of his company and obviously had resources. He wasn’t the sort who needed to be referred to the Traveler’s Aid Society.

  “I’ll call the rental people first,” David said. “There has to be a number here on the contract.” He got his wallet out and pulled a folded up pink flimsy out.

  “I’m done then,” the cop said, standing to leave. “Good luck, I hope you don’t get dinged too badly.” He was kind enough not to chide David for losing his key fob.

  David felt a little dirty. He didn’t like lying even if he wasn’t defrauding anyone. After reporting it to the rental people he would get a driver to take him the rest of the way home. He wasn’t going to call his office, he’d walk in and surprise them. He really wanted to see how things were after his long absence without giving them any opportunity to pretty things up for him.

  Chapter 20

  It was almost 1300 by the time he reached his offices and dismissed the driver. His receptionist not only jumped in fright when he walked in, she actually clutched her chest.

  "We didn't know if you were dead or alive!" Clara exclaimed. "The last Joan spoke to you was about getting insurance for a motor home. We had no idea if you were taking off on another extended trip with it. Then the investigators and insurance people called and said it had burned up. The story online from the local news said they didn't know if there were any remains in the burnt out motor home and then they never updated the story. Joan has a ton of messages for you."

  "I'm sure she does," David said, "I'll sort through all of them eventually," he promised. "I'm going to my office now and get some priority things sorted out, but I haven't been back to my apartment yet. Please don't call and start telling people I'm home, because I intend to go home very soon and don't want to be swamped with calls or people walking in until tomorrow."

  His secretary Joan wasn't nearly as surprised. Clara at the front desk obviously hadn't considered her in the news black-out since he was on his way up. That was fine and reasonable.

  "It's nice to have you back," Joan said.

  "I imagine you had a lot of constant pressure from people demanding to contact me?"

  "Yes, quite a few refused to believe I wasn't in daily contact," Joan just shrugged. "I don't really let it get to me. I've kept a list of all the communications in a rough priority. I also kept a log of calls and requests that people withdrew as they handled them themselves of necessity."

  "That will be very interesting too," David said.

  Joan knew him well enough to know he'd rank his people based on whether they were able to handle matters and whether they were reluctant to do so unless forced to because they couldn't hand off the problem to somebody else.

  "I do have something I'd like you to research for me in the next couple days," David said. "Find out if any of the local universities have anyone who is an expert on succulents. I'd like somebody who can both identify them on a worldwide scope and knows how to propagate them from hardened samples."

  "Succulents like Hen and Chicks or Aloe Vera?" Joan asked.

  "Yes, but this is something wild from Ethiopia and might not even be officially identified."

  "Whatever you say, that's why you pay me the big bucks," Joan agreed. She probably had told him that a hundred times. David just smiled and went in his office.

  David called Jack Delocca, an older retired friend with whom he went running, played cards and generally hung out when he could tear himself away from work. David was briefly interested in Jack’s daughter, but she decided she wasn’t interested in him and stopped accepting any invitations. She was married to somebody else now, but David still maintained the friendship with Jack.

  Jack had a big lot out in the country and owned one car and a two car garage, so he’d taken David to the airport and vowed to drive his car frequently enough to keep the battery charged. He threatened to ‘keep the carbon off the valves’, but if anything he was a much more cautious driver than David.

  “Have you wrecked my little Audi yet?” David asked when Jack answered the phone.

  “It won’t go fast enough to make a really spectacular wreck. When are you going to buy an executive toy like a Lamborghini?” Jack demanded.

  “When I can figure out how to make it generate income instead of cost me,” David said.

  “If I had your money I’d throw mine away,” Jack insisted. “Do you need your ride back? Two more days and you’ll owe for another month’s storage fee.”

  “Storage? I was going to charge you rental, but what say I take you to dinner and we call it even?”

  “I get to name the place?” Jack asked.

  “Yes, but not the Waffle House again,” David said. “I lost some weight and want to keep it off.”

  Joan was at the door, frowning. “I have two gentlemen here who won’t be put off.”

  David covered the mouthpiece. “I’m not going to talk to anybody until tomorrow.”

  “They have a warrant for your arrest,” Joan said. She was still holding the door knob but the officer literally pushed her out of the way. Joan was stubborn and refused to take a step so she tumbled to the floor. The man literally stepped over her.

  “David Carpenter?” he asked. The other policeman filled the door way but didn’t step over Joan.

  “Help my secretary up and apologize to her,” David said. “You may be thugs but you don’t act like that here.”

  The man laughed at him.

  Suddenly his hair was on fire and he twirled around trying to figure out what was happening. His partner took his jacket off and smothered it. About the time he got the hair put out the man’s shoes burst into flame. It was very difficult to take them off while they burned. It was rough on his hands.

  His partner didn’t understand what was happening, but he was certain who to blame. He pulled his jacket back and drew his weapon. It just kept going when he drew it, wrenched out of his hand and flew through the window shattering it. He hunched over and held his wrenched hand against his stomach with his uninjured hand. David had confidence now he could move a heavier object, but not the fine control to take it from his hand gently.

  “Do you think I’m funny too?” David asked him. “Would you like to help my secretary up for your partner or did your mother never teach you any manners either?” David started heating the man’s shoes and feet slowly enough he could sense what was happening.

  “Ma’am, please excuse my partner’s clumsiness,” the man said. His feet were getting uncomfortably hot. He offered a hand to her. Joan slapped the hand away and got to her feet herself.

  Sitting on the floor with his socks burnt to tatters the other cop pulled his weapon. He struggled with it like a living thing, but it twisted and refused to point at David and turned no matter how he strained against it. Instead it pointed at his partner who was wild-eyed and too terrified to run.

  “Would you like to apologize to my secretary?” David asked, again.

  The fellow’s reply was obscene.

  This holding something steady was something new he hadn’t practiced, just as hard as making it fly away and wearing him down already.

  “Are the security cameras all working and running?” David asked Joan.

  “Of course, I’d have told you first thing otherwise,” Joan said. She was a little wild-eyed herself, but in control of herself and more angry than afraid.

  The sitting man suddenly shot his partner in the leg just above the knee. Then the pistol by all appearances was thrown by him out the jagged window opening and joined the other. It was a relief to stop straining to hold it. He was very pleased with himself he could do that and make the finger and trigger pull back. Doing two things at
once was mentally difficult.

  “Joan would you please call the police to send a couple uniformed officers and explain the two officers here seem to have had some sort of difficulty and one shot the other? Suggest an ambulance too, please.”

  “Jack,” David said into the phone, “are you still there?”

  “Sure, what else do I have to do but sit and wait for you? Was that a gunshot I heard?”

  “I’m afraid dinner is off,” David said, “It seems I’m going to be arrested.”

  “Oh goodie. What have you done now?” Jack asked.

  “Any number of things,” David admitted. “You’ve mentioned to me several times that we commit three felonies a day unless we stay home in bed and hide under the covers. But the funny thing is, they never did show me the warrant or say why they were arresting me. I really have to go,” David said, and hung up.

  The man with the hole above his knee was tough. He had his belt off and was using it for a makeshift tourniquet. He called David something ugly, which David decided to let go under the circumstances.

  “We’re arresting you for extradition to New Jersey,” the man said.

  The fact he was in no shape to arrest anybody David let pass. “Whatever for?” David asked instead, honestly surprised.

  “It doesn’t matter,” the man said, “if New Jersey asks for you, all we care about is if you are the person they are asking for. They have a plane flying down. You were stupid to resist. This is likely more trouble for you than the original complaint.”

  “Resist how?” David asked. “You never identified yourselves to me, asked for ID or got within arm’s length of me. What did your partner have against you?” The partner seemed to have fainted.

  “I don’t know how… ” the man started to say and looked confused. He was dealing with the impossible and after being shot he was likely a little shocky by now too.

  “Joan?” David called loudly.

  “They’re on the way,” Joan said when she came to the door.

  “Thank you. Would you personally keep this for me?” David asked and gave her his sign. “It means a great deal to me. Also call security and have the recordings of my office today pulled and copied right after I leave. I expect the responding officers to arrest me. The police will probably be back and ask for either copies or the original. That’s fine, but I want you to give a copy to our corporate attorney, a copy to this gentleman,” he gave her Crenshaw’s card, “and copies to the local TV stations.”

  Joan looked at him hard, like she had a million questions.

  “Later,” David said to that look, “after this is sorted out.”

  “I’m on it,” Joan said, “but you are a hell of an optimist to see this getting sorted out.” Nevertheless she went back out to her desk and set it in motion.”

  David walked back to his desk, put the stones from his pocket on it and sat on the edge watching the door with his hands in plain view, trying to keep them from shaking. What he really wanted to do was collapse on the sofa, but more police would be coming and that would never do.

  “This way,” David heard Joan say a bit loudly, probably for his benefit. She led an EMS crew in with a gurney and went back out. They saw they had two down and called on their radio for another unit. They rolled the shocky one on his back and started an IV. The gunshot victim they jammed something in the wound and triggered it. The medic held his wrist up and looked at his watch counting off time to himself. It seemed like about thirty seconds and he made the man release his belt. The fellow was obviously afraid to, but it didn’t resume bleeding. They medics lowered the gurney and together they hoisted the man with the bad leg onto it.

  “They’re all in here,” Joan said and led in a single uniformed Sergeant of police. He looked at the EMS working on the two officers, the big shattered window and David, seeming to be relaxed and sitting on the edge of his desk.

  “What does the perp look like and how much of a head start does he have?” he asked.

  “The two here, they are police I assume? They never got to identify themselves and they were armed, but they never showed ID. They told my secretary they had a warrant for me, but they assaulted my secretary, then it got crazy and the one threw his gun through the window and the other shot him.”

  “They were here to arrest you?” the Sergeant asked, and put his hand on his gun.

  “That’s what they told Joan, but then things got crazy. You’ll have to see the security feed yourself. I’m perfectly willing to be arrested if you want. I suppose one of them has the warrant in his pocket if they weren’t lying. The one who his partner shot said I’m wanted to be extradited to New Jersey.”

  “Are you armed?” The uniform asked.

  “No, I’ve a permit, but my pistol is in the safe there behind my desk and hasn’t been out of it in weeks. In fact I’ve been out of the country since then.”

  “Turn around and lean on the desk. I’m going to pat you down and cuff you for my own safety.”

  David decided this was probably as good a deal as he was going to get unless he wanted to run up a ridiculous body count. He put his hands flat on the desk and spread his legs without being urged to do so. The pat down was less intrusive than at an airport. The cop put the cuffs on, but not roughly, then suggested he sit back down. David looked a little unsteady.

  “Would you at least find out if there really is a warrant before perp walking me out of my own company, past my people?” David asked.

  “You the CEO?” the cop asked.

  “I’m the owner,” David said.

  David could see him calculating what kind of money he was dealing with just by the building.

  “I need to check these fellow’s pockets,” the Sergeant told the EMS.

  “Do it quick,” the lead medic said, “because we’re going to transport this one as soon as the other truck gets here. They are just a couple minutes out and they will treat and transport the, uh, other guy.” He balked at what to call his injuries, burns certainly, but with no immediate cause apparent.

  The Sergeant found a folder and sighed. “I have the document. You are David Carpenter?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. I understand you have to arrest me. Might as well be done with it,” David said, resigned.

  He was an older cop and could smell big trouble. Nobody submitted to arrest so agreeably. “Ma’am did one of these fellows really assault you?”

  “The first one knocked me to the floor without asking to come in or requesting I get out of the way,” Joan said. “He clipped me with his elbow and stepped over me, then got all aggressive when Mr. Carpenter reprimanded him for it. The cameras will have caught it all I’m sure. I have the head of our security making a copy for your people right now.”

  He didn’t want a part in any of those videos. He was near retirement and intended to quietly get there and enjoy it.

  “If I let you walk ahead of me to my car without the cuffs will you go meek as can be and not run or any other foolishness?” he asked David.

  “Yes. I would have for these guys too,” David added.

  The Sergeant made a motion for David to turn around, undid his right cuff, but left it dangling on his left wrist.

  “Stick that in your left pocket, where nobody will see it,” he told David.

  “That’s brilliant,” David said, “you can say I never had the cuffs off.”

  “That’s experience,” the cop said, gruffly. “You don’t make thirty eight years service without learning a few tricks to cover your butt. I’m not surprised you figured it out so fast. You don’t have a company like this,” he made a sweeping motion with his head, “by being stupid.”

  “Joan, see that the Sergeant gets a copy of the recording besides any others that ask. Even if you have to hand deliver it.”

  She nodded.

  They passed another pair of EMS techs on the way out and a couple more police cars after they started for the station.

  “I’m bringing in a D. Carpenter on an extra
dition warrant,” the Sergeant reported on his radio.

  “Hold him at the scene for another pair of detectives,” dispatch ordered.

  “We already passed them inbound a few minutes ago. I have the physical warrant too.”

  “Roger,” dispatch said, and dropped it.

  Being booked was much like New York. David wondered at what point it was so routine it became boring. It certainly seemed boring to these jailers and one jail was pretty much like another.

  David went in a long cell with a ledge running around the edge to sit on. There were three other men in there already. One was in expensive but rumpled clothing and slumped against a wall, drunk David would guess. Two others were bearded and rough looking with jeans so dirty they were black where the original blue didn’t show. They had sleeve tattoos covering both arms and more on their necks. One looked at David fiercely until his companion straight armed him to get his attention and nodded no. That surprised the fierce one but he looked at David again, appraisingly and dropped it.

  David wondered if a plane was in the air already, on the way to pick him up. Did they really intend to send him back or would they try to kill him like they had in New York. Who were they even?

  One of his questions was answered a couple hours later. The jailer escorted a man to the cell who had a fierce countenance and wasn’t cuffed or manacled right up to the cell door like David had been. He had a throbbing bright aura of false colors, some of which David had figured out was a lively anticipation. Some of the others he still didn’t know, but it was obvious the man fixed his attention on David even before the door was locked behind him.

  Instead of approaching David immediately he sat on the opposite leg of the ledge where he could face David somewhat. He formed a sword like the fellow had in New York, but sat playing with it, grinning like a fool. David suddenly realized he was supposed to be terrified. The man thought he was intimidating David and enjoying doing it, playing with him like a cat with a mouse before killing it. If the man could not see he wasn’t frightened at all then he was rather dim witted at reading normal faces, much less the more telling false colors.