"Please..." she said, trying to get him to sit back down, "I just want to ask you a few questions."
"I didn't answer any before. And I ain't about to now."
"Please. I'll pay you again."
The old man smacked his lips. "How much?"
Lydia turned her face to avoid his breath. "How much do you want?"
"Fifty dolla'!" the old man said, sitting back down and spitting at her feet.
The spitting pissed her off. He'd done it on purpose. She looked around, thinking two could play this game. "Tell me," she said. "Where would you go if I had this place condemned?"
"Don't you be fuckin' with me!"
"One phone call, and I'll have you thrown out of here before lunch."
"Why you wanna do that?"
"I don't! I just want some answers."
The old man's eyes narrowed. "You's bluffin'! You can't do nothin'!"
"Oh yeah?" Lydia said, not backing down a bit. "Don't kid yourself. My car's worth more than five of these buildings. So, if you want to see me throw my weight around, just keep this up."
The old man looked at her car long and hard, then stood up begrudgingly and pulled his pants out of the crack of his ass. "We'll talk inside."
Lydia started after him, but then suddenly remembered her conversation with Tony. "No, that's all right. I think we'll talk out here if you don't mind."
"There's people watchin'."
Lydia looked around. She couldn't see anybody. "I don't care." She fished into her purse for some money and came up with a hundred dollar bill. "Out here., for double."
The old man reached for the money with bony, trembling, claw-like fingers, but Lydia pulled it back. "In my car. Come on."
The old man followed her, getting in rather reluctantly when she opened the door for him. As she walked around to the other side, she now noticed several women and a man looking out their respective apartment windows at her.
She wondered if she should drive around the block to talk, the way they do in the movies, just to be safe, and decided she would. But when she got in and started the car, she sensed the old man's sudden panic. He was more frightened than she was. And why not? He was frail. As frail as her father.
"I'm just gonna turn the air on," she said, quickly adding, "It's hot." She didn't want him to think it was because he smelled, although he did. She lit a cigarette and politely offered him one.
He took it.
"Do you know Dan Morris?" she asked.
"No."
"Well that's not worth much," she said, purposely crumpling the hundred dollar bill and stuffing it into the ashtray.
"I get his mail."
Lydia kind of nodded and took what looked like a casual drag off her cigarette. Now wasn't the time to get excited and lose her cool. "Has he gotten any postcards lately?"
The old man's eyes were riveted to the ashtray. "You Lydia Merchant?"
Lydia nodded. "Dan has something that belongs to me."
"You gonna burn that?" the old man asked, watching her flick her cigarette on the money.
Lydia shrugged casually, as if she just might. "When does Dan pick his mail up?"
"I never know."
"Why do you get his mail?"
"He pay me ten dolla' a month. Brings me wine too."
Lydia flicked her cigarette again. "I'd like you to tell him I'm looking for him. I don't want trouble. I just want to talk to him. Will you do that?"
The old man nodded. "If’n I see him."
And that was that. Lydia gave him the money, he got out as fast as he could, and she drove on to the plant, hoping something would come from this.
Jan had several messages for her. "Here, file these..." Lydia told her, handing back the two from Greg and pointing to the wastebasket.
Jan threw them away, frowning, and when Lydia looked up from reading the ones from Julius and Bob Miller, she relayed another message. "Mr. Armato has been looking for you. He was up here once and has called twice."
"Did he say what he wanted?"
"No," Jan said, lowering her voice when the elevator doors opened and Tony started out. "But he seemed agitated."
He was. Lydia could see it in his eyes as he walked toward her. "I need to talk to you," he said, motioning to Reed's office.
Oh great, she thought. What did I do now? With a sigh, she led the way and had barely returned Reed's cheerful greeting and gotten herself seated, when Tony started in on her.
"You can't be coming and going without letting someone know what's going on. No one had any idea where you were or when you were even expected. Jan didn't know. Will didn't know..."
"Hey! Now wait a minute!"
"This isn't a game, Miss Lydia! This is for real!"
"I never said it was! And dammit, stop calling me that!"
Reed made an attempt to get between them. "Come on you two, let's not get upset."
Tony turned, telling him, "Stay out of this for once!" And Lydia suddenly sensed something in his voice. Something that made her heart stop.
"Tony...?"
He turned back.
It was in his eyes, too.
"This isn't about my just coming in late, is it?"
Tony swallowed.
"Is it?"
Tony drew a breath and shook his head. No, it wasn't. He wished it was. Lydia agonized over what it might be as he sat down next to her and ran his fingers through his hair.
"Please...." she said, "whatever it is, just tell me."
Tony stared down at the floor, trying to think of the best way, and Lydia clutched his arm to get him to look at her.
"Tony, you're scaring me again. Please...."
"I'm sorry," he said, with regret. "I'm not trying to scare you. I just think you have to know."
Lydia searched his eyes.
"It's not in the newspapers. And I doubt it'll make the six o'clock news. But they're dredging the river down by the west side pier."
Lydia gripped his arm tighter. "Dan Morris?"
Tony nodded.
"Oh Jesus Christ.” Lydia's hand slipped off Tony's arm as she stood slowly. She walked over to the window and stared out at the parking lot. "In his car?"
"Yes."
"I don't understand," Reed said. "Was there an accident?"
Tony shook his head and signaled a nose dive. Reed's mouth dropped.
Lydia pointed out the window. "The picketers are gone. Is the strike over?"
Tony looked at her in disbelief. He'd just told her the man who tried to run her over may be at the bottom of the river, and she wanted to know if the strike was over.
"I don't know," Reed said. "But there wasn't anyone there yesterday either."
"There wasn't? I never noticed." She stared at where they used to be. "I wonder if Bill would know?"
Tony shook his head. She was amazing. "Maybe you should run downstairs and ask him."
Lydia nodded, as if that were a good idea, and Tony sat back, rolling his eyes.
Reed glanced from one to the other. "I'm confused. One, I don't understand why you're so upset. And two...."
"Didn't she tell you?"
"Tell me what?"
"Dan Morris tried to run her over yesterday."
"What?!"
Tony crossed his arms, he wasn't going to repeat it, and Reed looked at Lydia. "He tried to run you over?"
Lydia sort of nodded. "On the way over here this morning, I um…I went to his apartment."
That brought Tony to his feet, wincing when his right knee buckled. "You did what?"
Lydia could hardly think, let alone give an intelligent response, and started past him for her cigarettes, but he stopped her. "What for?"
"I uh…I wanted to...." She looked up at him. "I paid the wino to tell me something."
"The wino?" Tony said incredulously. "The wino?"
Lydia cleared her throat and tilted her head to try and appear a little more in control. "The old man who lives there. Dan brings him wine. I paid him to tell me
that."
Tony almost laughed and probably would have, had it been said by anyone else and not so seriously. "Didn't we talk about this kind of thing last night?"
Lydia nodded. "But he also told me that Dan has his mail delivered there. I sent him a postcard and he knew my name."
Tony could only shake his head." You've got to stop doing shit like this."
"I know, but nothing was making sense. I had to do something." She hesitated, her expression suddenly changing. "Wait a minute! How did you hear about Dan being in the river?" She turned to Reed. "And why didn't you tell me you knew Tony before he came to work here?"
Tony was first to answer, and it was obvious he didn't appreciate being questioned. "Like I told you last night, I'd seen him a few times. Only once here though. The other times were at a tavern on the west side. I assumed he lived nearby."
Lydia searched his eyes, damning her inability to read anything in them aside from the obvious. "And?"
"And..." Tony said sarcastically. "Last night I swung by there thinking I'd run into him or maybe find out something about him."
"All this for me?"
This only added to his irritation. "Sorry to say, yeah!"
"How admirable!"
Tony threw his hands up, shaking his head as he walked over to the window. Now it was Reed's turn.
"Well?"
His face was on fire. All he could think about was this newfound familiarity she and Tony had, and Tony's references to last night. Last night when? Last night where? "Um, you were uh...so suspicious of Tony when you first came, that I uh…didn't want to uh...."
"Didn't want to add fuel to the fire by telling me you two were old buddies?"
Reed nodded sheepishly. "Yes." But he didn't really have to say anything. Lydia could see it in his eyes. She sighed. "I'm sorry," she said and turned to Tony, saying it again. "I'm sorry. I don't know if I'm coming or going anymore."
Tony leaned back against the window sill and crossed his arms. "Yeah, well I'd like to know when you're coming and going, if that's not too much to ask."
Lydia looked at him. "You're scaring me again," she said, which sounded like a warning to stop.
Reed jumped in quickly. "You know, maybe all this is just coincidental. Maybe Dan just had a problem."
"Yeah?" Tony said. "And just maybe you ought to take this a little more seriously."
"I am taking this seriously! I just happen to be able to give people the benefit of the doubt, unlike you."
Tony shook his head, and Lydia glanced from one to the other, wondering why she'd never picked up on the bond between them. Only friends would go at each other like this. Using their standoff to collect her thoughts, she sat down and lit a cigarette.
Now Tony stared out the window, and after a moment, he said, "The strike's not over. They closed the company down."
"Can they do that?" Lydia asked.
"Well, they did. So what does that tell you?"
Lydia just looked at him. He could be so sarcastic.
But his sarcasm wasn't directed at her. It was age-old, and absorbed in it, he walked over to the door without saying another word, but he stopped short of leaving.
"What else did you find out from your wino?" he asked.
It sounded as if he was making fun of her now. "Nothing," she said, again damning her inability to sense even a glimpse of what he was thinking. "Just the mail thing."
Tony sort of smiled. "I hope that didn't cost too much?"
"Why? What do you mean?"
"I don't know. Any more than twenty or so, and you might've set yourself up."
Lydia gulped. "You mean, you think someone's going to contact me? Someone other than the old man?"
Tony shrugged. "You never know." Walking out, he hoped this time he'd scared her enough so she wouldn't try anything that stupid again. But with her, who knew?
Lydia refused to think about it. "I've got too many things on my mind already," she told Reed. She left and, downstairs in the conference room, returned Julius Randall's phone call.
"Sorry I didn't get back to you sooner, but I had trouble getting out of bed this morning."
Julius chuckled. Lydia knew he would. Most men do whenever a bed is mentioned. "I've been giving your proposition some serious consideration," he said. "And I think we may be able to do business."
"Oh thank God," Lydia said dramatically. "I was hoping to fly down the coast with a friend this weekend for a bash and didn't want this debt thing to put a damper on it, if you know what I mean."
Julius laughed, and Lydia wanted to keep him laughing. Otherwise, he just might bring up some of the things she'd insinuated at their meeting, and she wanted them to appear spontaneous and long forgotten.
"So what's next? Do we need prints? No, we already have them. How stupid of me!"
It worked. Julius laughed again. "Hold on a second! I haven't said what and when. I'm just considering it at this point."
"I know," Lydia said. "But they told me in school that to be successful you've got to be pushy." This prompted more laughter, and by the time she hung up, she was so sick of trying to be funny, she wanted to scream. She attacked a piece of paper instead and proceeded to rip it to shreds.
"There." Feeling much better after that, she gathered up the pieces and threw them into the wastebasket, and leaning down to get the ones she'd dropped, she noticed something odd. The wastebasket smelled of English Leather.
English Leather again. "I'll bet it's Carlson," she said, thinking out loud. "Sure, it has to be. Who else?"
The intercom buzzed. It was Jan, saying Greg was on line two. Lydia told her to tell him she wasn't in, then walked over to the window to look for Tony. Spotting him, she grabbed her cigarettes and went down to talk to him.
He and Bill were wiring a machine over near the cafeteria. He stepped back and smiled faintly when he looked up and saw her walking toward him. "Still slumming, or haven't I reported in often enough?"
Lydia didn't catch on at first, then the wino came to mind, and she smiled. "No... actually I just wanted to take a walk and totally forgot I'm not supposed to be down here."
Tony shook his head, smiling. She never missed an opportunity to throw something up to him. Then she leaned down to razz Bill a little. "Oh I get it, white on white, blue on blue, and you flip the switch."
He and Tony laughed. "Go get a union card," Bill told her.
"Okay," she said. "I'll go get one now." She started to walk away, but Tony called after her.
"Lydia..."
This was the first time he'd ever called her by her first name, and silly as it seemed, that, and how he'd said it, was all she could think about as she turned back around.
"What'd you really come down here for?"
Lydia glanced past him to see if anyone aside from Bill was within hearing distance and stepped closer. "I wanted to tell you that your friend Julius Randall called." Tony smiled. She was doing it again. "And it reminded me of something I’ve been wanting to ask you. Why did you send me over there to see him?"
Tony's smile widened. "I didn't send you. You were going anyway. But let's just say I owed him one and thought you might even the score."
Lydia shook her head, gazing up at him. Even smiling, his eyes were serious.
"So what did he have to say?" Tony asked.
"He's thinking about letting us run those parts, which is surprising, since I never dreamt he'd take me up on it. In suggesting it, I was really only trying to...."
"Flush someone out," Tony said. "I know."
Lydia smiled. "Is it working?"
"Yeah...it's working." He laughed. "I meant to tell you. Only I think it's working backwards."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, nothing's happening."
"Nothing?"
Tony laughed at her expression. He couldn't help himself. "Nothing. The parts that used to add up mysteriously here and there, aren't. And now we're under production."
"Gee, I did good, didn't
I?"
Tony smiled. "Yeah, you did. But there's no sense worrying about it now." Lydia nodded regretfully and turned to leave. Tony took hold of her arm. "I mean that," he said. "Don't worry about it."
Oh Jesus, Lydia thought, swallowing. First he says my name, and it's as if I've never heard it before. Now he touches me, and my heart's in my mouth.
"Just don't go back there though without talking to me first. Okay?"
"Where?" Lydia asked, barely above a whisper.
"The pigsty."
Lydia smiled faintly, nodding, and walked away on a cloud. As she started up the stairs, Jan's voice over the paging system summoned her back to reality.
"Lydia Merchant, dial five! Lydia Merchant, dial five!"
There was an urgency in it, as if she wanted to cry, "Stat!" the way they do in a hospital, and Lydia responded accordingly. She took the stairs two at a time, rounding the corner at a run, and Jan met her coming the other way.
"Your father's missing! Betty can't find him!"
"Missing?!"
"Please," Jan urged, dragging her by the arm. "She's still on the line. She doesn't know what to do."
Lydia couldn't get to the phone fast enough. "What do you mean he's missing, Betty?"
"I checked all over the house! He ain't here! I checked ev’rywhere!"
"Did you check the garden?"
"Ev'rywhere, Miss Lydia! He's gone!"
"Is George looking for him?"
"Yesmmm, he's been out and back, and out again."
"All right, have him keep looking. I'll be right there."
"Should I call the police, Miss Lydia?"
"No! Don't! We'll find him."
'I’ll be prayin'."
Lydia fumbled with the receiver, trying to hang it up, and finally, took off. "Call the police if you don't hear from me in an hour," she told Jan, "and report him missing!"
She ran down the stairs, across the hall, and up the stairs to the conference room. She grabbed her purse and keys, and on the way down, tripped and lost her balance. Next thing she knew, she was landing at the bottom with a thud.
"Oh great!"
She remained perfectly still for a few seconds, hoping she hadn't broken anything, then moved cautiously. She stood and dusted herself off. Shaken, but seemingly intact, she rushed out the side entrance to her car. Then, rattled, she pumped the gas and flooded the engine.
Call Me Lydia Page 22