ON Edge

by John W. Mefford

  Nicole and I stood next to the unmarked FBI van, each of us with a government-issued blanket over our shoulders. She’d been given a pair of cheap slippers. I watched them put Drake into a car with three other FBI agents and drive off. The two others, Grill Man and Hugo, were leaving in the back of ambulances. Hugo had apparently broken a bone in his arm, and Grill Man had accidentally shot himself in the foot.

  I called that vindication.

  We’d already been questioned by Brook and Bowser and were told to expect more before they were done with us.

  “Did you think we’d ever be this popular in the neighborhood?” Nicole asked, looking at the people gathered outside of the yellow tape.

  “We’ll probably be fined by the Homeowners Association for creating a disturbance past midnight.”

  She turned to me and gave me a sly smile. “You’re joking.”

  I shrugged and felt a smile tug at my lips.

  “Is this guy your dog?” An officer had just walked up holding Baxter by the collar. Brook was just behind them.

  “There’s my hero.” Nicole smiled in the way only she could and rubbed his ears. He immediately started licking her hands. She then introduced me to the newest guy in her life. Baxter sniffed my hand, then allowed me to scratch his back. Within a few seconds, he was leaning his body—I was guessing something north of eighty pounds—against my legs.

  “That’s his way of saying he trusts you,” she said, curling a lock of hair around her ear.

  We both froze, our eyes locked on each other. I glanced away first, my eyes darting around, looking for a safe place. Trust. It had been tossed away like a secondhand bike when it should have been cherished like a rare jewel.

  Brook moved closer. I sighed, if only to clear my mind from the unsolvable push-pull I felt with Nicole.

  “Are there others you need to arrest?” I asked Brook.

  “The FBI is taking lead. Bowser said there could be further arrests. They believe Drake has a connection within the FDA for this drug that is up for approval, but they don’t know who that connection is. Sometimes, he said, unless they find an email, audio, or video, then hearsay simply won’t work on a government official.”

  “It’s like catching a greased pig,” I said.

  “Never thought of it that way, but I suppose the analogy works. On many levels.”

  She said that, at some point in the future, Nicole and I might both be asked to testify in a trial, which might involve this unknown government official.

  “Did you guys ever figure out what Clem used his lab for?”

  A car drove up, and out popped Tracy Rowlett. Brook put two fingers in her mouth and whistled, then asked one of her officers to ensure that the reporters were kept away from the crime scene. Then she turned to me. “Apparently, he was trying to prove out the complications of the new Vista Labs drug. He was a very dedicated man.”

  As Bowser walked up, Brook said, “There is the matter of your father.”

  “Drake said he didn’t do it. I’m not sure I believe him, though.”

  “We got back the toxicology report. And we have a piece of video from the hospital.”

  Brook lifted an eyebrow, while trading a glance with Bowser.

  Within minutes, we all knew what had to happen.

  42

  After the sun rose, I called Stacy and asked if we could move up our next lunch date at Franklin’s barbeque. This time I was waiting in a booth when she walked in. She hugged me. Her face gave an impression that she felt my pain, both physical and otherwise.

  “Your face is twice as bad this time,” she said, her hands gripping my arms like I was fourteen again.

  I explained how I fell into a rosebush. She asked more questions.

  “Haven’t you read the exclusive story by Tracy Rowlett?” I asked. Then I realized his story probably hadn’t made the newspaper deadline and was available only in their online edition at this point.

  Tracy had not only shown up at the scene within the hour it happened—he said he had sources within the APD—but he’d also sat down with Brook, Nicole, and me after most of the people cleared away, to get the full story. We asked him to keep the whole salacious affair out of the paper. He actually came through for us, which I found shocking.

  “So, explain again how they stopped the car?” she asked.

  “They used a spike strip. Apparently, my friends with the FBI and APD didn’t have a clue where we were, so they put down spike strips going both directions on our street.”

  “You are so lucky to be alive, Ozzie. And Nicole too. I just don’t understand her relationship with this Drake fellow.”

  In many respects, Stacy had been like a surrogate mother. She had taken care of so many things for me over the years, long before I joined the firm. She always seemed to be there for me, to lend a helping hand. But right now, I didn’t feel like opening up and baring my soul. My face looked like it had gone through a paper shredder, but my heart had been shattered again yesterday, when Brook showed me the video they’d pulled from the hospital.

  “I’d rather not get into it now, Stacy.”

  We both ate our barbeque. Actually, she ate and I picked at my food.

  “Everything okay?”

  She was watching me. She was a master people watcher. That was one thing we had in common. I had thought the other thing was our love for Dad. Apparently, I’d been wrong.

  “Not really. Now that things have settled, I realize how much I miss Dad.”

  She reached across and patted my hand. “Over time you’ll remember him fondly, and it won’t hurt so much. And you still have me for our weekly lunches.”

  I didn’t say anything. I only gave her a nod, but I could feel my cheeks go flush.

  She put her fork down, clasped her hands, and anchored them under her chin. She looked at me with a blank stare. That wasn’t Stacy. She usually showed something in her expression, even if it was annoyance at one of the lawyers or paralegals for leaving a mess in the breakroom.

  The stare-down lasted a good minute. I wasn’t going to give, no matter how long it lasted.

  Finally, she said, “Your father and I had an affair that lasted over two years.”

  I felt a jab to the gut, but after everything I’d endured, the impact was more like that of a mosquito bite. I remained expressionless. My eyes didn’t blink.

  “He hurt me, Ozzie. He promised me that he’d leave his witch of a wife. Sorry, but you know it’s true about your adoptive mother.”

  She’d never used that term around me before…“adoptive mother.” I could feel my jaw clench, but I was like a statue. She continued caving.

  She pulled a tissue from her purse and dabbed the corner of her eye. “I was devastated. I loved that man like no other woman could. And he tossed me aside. I’d become too old for him. He moved on to Bianca,” she said, exaggerating her name with an accompanying eye roll. “That woman was nothing more than a sex machine. She was after his money. And…” She tried to laugh, but she was stuck with a stiff smile. “I guess it all worked out for her.”

  I finally broke my silence. “It did for you too, since Arie is selling off the firm. But you knew that if Dad died, Arie would be forced to sell it off and give it to the older employees.”

  Her smile stuck around, but a shadow crossed her face. “I did, yes. I knew just about everything that went on in that office. Well, except all this crazy stuff with Drake and the killing of the doctor.”

  “But when he was arrested and had the heart attack, you saw your chance, didn’t you?”

  She quickly reached across to grab my hand. I pulled it back and gave her a venomous look.

  She began to cry, but the burden she’d been carrying apparently pulled the words out of her. “My mother, it’s just been so painful. And costly. I needed help.”

  “And so…?”

  “I can’t hide the truth any longer, Ozzie. Your dad’s heart was weak. You don’t know this, but he’d had fainting spells many times
in the last year. He was on the verge of dying; I know it.”

  I couldn’t lead her to say it—it would be inadmissible in court—so I just had to wait and somehow hold back from lashing out, or from breaking down.

  “I promise you, when he died, it was peaceful. He basically died in his sleep.”

  “What are you saying?” I bit into my lip until I tasted blood.

  Tears cascaded down her face like a river that had just poured over muddy banks. Makeup was everywhere. “As a trained nurse, I knew that an extra dose of potassium chloride given right into his bloodstream would stop his heartbeat. I then unplugged his machine. There was a shift change going on. No one noticed a thing.” She paused and tried to plug the open damn of tears, but it was no use. “I wasn’t certain that I wouldn’t get caught, but I suppose it was meant to be.”

  “And I thought you cared, Stacy.”

  “You and I both know that he would never change his habits. He would have kept eating, drinking, working. He was a creature of habit. He loved that firm more than any woman. He wouldn’t have lived another month. I guarantee you.”

  “And I guarantee you that you’re going to spend the rest of your life in prison.”

  A moment later, Brook, Bowser, and six other officers appeared at our table. Stacy didn’t seem too surprised.

  “He treated me like a throwaway tissue, Ozzie,” she said as an officer cuffed her.

  I started walking away, but she yelled across the restaurant. “A person can only take that for so long. You know that, right?”

  I walked outside and threw up.

  Later, Brook told me that Stacy admitted to writing the death threat and leaving it on my car. She had used her left hand to write the note, believing I’d never connect it to her. She also admitted to slashing my tire. She said she never intended to follow through and hurt me. She just didn’t want to get caught. She said she knew, ultimately, that Nathaniel would just want her to be happy.

  I threw up again.

  43

  I watched Arie’s fingers work the ten-key like a concert pianist. It was three days later, and I’d somehow awoken from my catatonic state. “You called me here, so what do you need?”

  The office had boxes stacked to the ceiling. There was one desk and two chairs left at Novak and Novak. My body and my senses were numb, but I still felt a sense of loss, a cavern of emptiness that made me question so many things in my life and the people who had touched it.

  “Sorry for the wait. I was just running some numbers about the FFE,” he said, scooting up his chair.

  I didn’t give him a quizzical look, but he must have thought I did.

  “Furniture, fixtures, and equipment. It’s a term used in the sale of companies.” He paused, but I said nothing. “So, first things first. Stacy’s, uh…situation, does not mean that you get her share. Unfortunately.”

  “I never thought it would. This world, Novak and Novak, is all behind me now, Arie.”

  He rested his elbows on the table. “What that woman did to your father…I’ll never forgive her. If I wasn’t such a religious man, I’d hope she would rot in hell.”

  I’d never before heard Arie throw out the religion card. I was sure he needed some way to express his anger and hurt. We all did.

  “Sometimes we think we know people, but I guess we don’t.” The words just came out. I wasn’t just thinking of Stacy. I’d included my dad and Nicole in that thought. I’d lost my ability to filter very much in the days since everything had finally come to an end.

  Arie nodded. “Sorry for everything you’ve been through, Ozzie. I know it’s been rough. Maybe this will help.”

  He handed me an envelope. It was sealed but had my dad’s handwriting on it.

  “What is this?”

  “A letter to you. From your father.”

  I thought I had no emotion left in me, but I was wrong. Tears welled in my eyes, a convergence of about a hundred emotions.

  “Your father loved you very much, Ozzie. He never once considered you less of a son because you were adopted.”

  I flipped the letter over a few times.

  “Read it later, when you have a quiet moment.”

  I shook his hand, and he said he’d keep in touch. I walked out of the office and got on the elevator. I was alone, so I tore open the envelope and read the letter:

  Dear Ozzie,

  If you’re reading this letter, the world must have been turned upside down. And you’re probably wondering if I ever really loved you.

  The answer is yes, unequivocally. Your mother and I took you in when you were just two weeks old. You had some rough spots around age two, but other than that, you stole our hearts. And as you grew up and listened to this old man’s stories about his work life, I began to feel a bond with you that lasted forever.

  You probably have a lot of questions. I’ll do my best to answer them.

  Early on, I didn’t want to give you partnership in the firm because I thought you needed to earn it. Eventually, I wanted it all to be yours, or maybe you and your future son’s firm. But to get there, I didn’t want your colleagues to resent you for thinking you had the world handed to you on a silver platter.

  And then my life changed when I decided to work with Calvin Drake. Early in our arrangement, he paid me huge sums of money to complete menial tasks. I didn’t want to admit it, but I knew eventually he would ask me to cross the line. And when he did ask, I tried like hell to not do it. But the man proved to be a formidable negotiator: he said he’d pay me more money than I could ever earn with ten other clients, and he threatened me. He said he’d hurt my family if I didn’t comply.

  It tore me in two. I was stressed beyond belief, but knowing I couldn’t take the risk of seeing one of you hurt—and yes, that includes your mother—I complied.

  Again, if you’re reading this note, then a lot of stuff has happened. All I can say is, I’m sorry we couldn’t have been partners. You will always have a special place in my heart, even if I’m looking down on you from the Pearly Gates. I just hope they let me in.

  Love,

  Dad

  As the elevator door dinged open, I shoved the letter in my blazer and thought about the comment Drake had made about swimming with the sharks. Dad was definitely swimming with sharks, but what struck me was that he never realized the pain he’d caused the women in his life. It was rather apparent he never understood that treating people with so little respect would have such a lasting impact. On their lives. On his life. And now on mine.

  I made my way out to the street and spotted the space where Sam was normally set up. It was empty. I knew he was at his sister’s place, healing, but I wondered if he’d find a new way to make money.

  I had no car. I’d walked all the way from Tito’s place. I’d told Tito that Nicole and I would pay to get his car fixed. He was just relieved that we were still breathing. I felt like I could walk another hundred miles. I flipped around and nearly ran into my brother.

  “Tobin?”

  “Hey, Oz. Mom said you were dropping by the office to talk to Arie.”

  She’d called earlier in the morning to express her concern, in her own unique way.

  We exchanged small talk for a few seconds. “Look, I’m not really in the mood to get into everything.”

  “You don’t have your Cadillac back yet?”

  I shook my head and watched two college kids stop and give a homeless guy some money. I had to blink to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. Maybe humanity wasn’t on the decline.

  “You were saying?” I turned back to Tobin.

  “Come on, I’ll drive you wherever you need to go,” he said, waving me toward the garage.

  “I’m good. Seriously. Thanks, though.”

  He stuck a letter against my chest. “What’s this?”

  “It was in my pile at Mom and Dad’s place. You know how we sometimes receive mail there and she has two stacks for us?”

  Another letter. I nodded, and found the letter
had already been opened.

  “You read my mail?”

  “Sorry, dude. I thought it was mine.” He shuffled his feet. “You might want to be sitting down when you read it.”

  “You read the whole thing?”

  “It was hard to stop. Just let me know if you want to talk to me about it.”

  I gave him an annoyed look, then emptied my lungs. I couldn’t be mad at Tobin for long. Annoying as he was, I knew he meant well. I popped him on the shoulder and started walking.

  A few seconds passed, and I opened the letter. I read the first sentence and stopped in my tracks. Just then, my phone rang. I looked at the screen. It was Nicole. She’d called me about ten times since Brook and Bowser had saved us from sure death. I’d actually picked up twice. I’d told her I needed more time. I could tell she was looking for an anchor. But I just couldn’t be that for her. Not now. And I wasn’t sure when. Or if.

  Back to the letter. I looked at the return address and the name above it. It took me a few seconds, but then it slammed into the front of my mind. End of high school, senior year. Prom night.

  I read the first sentence again and kept going from there.

  I’m sorry I never told you, Ozzie, but you have a daughter. She’s in danger. And I need your help. I didn’t know how to reach you, so I’m sending this to your parents’ house. I remembered their address from when we dated in high school. This isn’t a joke. I’m telling you the truth. I’m just sorry you had to find out this way. I wasn’t sure who else to turn to, or who else would care. Please call me or send me an email and let me know if you can come.

  Truly,

  Denise

  Denise, a friend from my past. We’d dated, had some fun, and then moved on with our lives. I looked up and felt the cold wind bite into my face. Family had meant so much to me growing up. I’d always pushed the thought of my blood family to the back of my mind. I had no need to conjure up any emotion about that topic. But a daughter? I’d never gone there. Usually, you’re aware of that before you get a letter ten years after you last saw the person.