Simon Wood

by Accidents Waiting to Happen

  The transaction looked more conspicuous than if Josh had just given her the five thousand straight from his wallet. Bell laughed and threw her head back. She picked up the envelope and slipped it into her purse.

  People meandered past without noticing the transaction.

  Unable to comprehend their behavior, the lion watched with keen interest the activities of the two people on the bench.

  "Josh, you're so easy."

  Her sense of humor didn't impress him. "Does this money mean you'll keep out of my life here?"

  "I don't know."

  "Jesus, Bell, I can't have that. I can't live not knowing when you're going to pop up next." Josh felt his cool slip from his grasp.

  "I'm sorry. That's the price you have to pay for being a criminal. If you'd been a good man, a faithful man, you wouldn't be in this situation." Bell's expression hardened into a sneer. "So you'd better get used to it."

  "But every criminal eventually pays his debt to society,"

  he said.

  "Yeah, but some crimes warrant the death penalty."

  Josh said nothing. She had him. He was cornered just like the animals. He couldn't live like this. His only way out Was to confess and take his chances. He would only tie himself in frustrated knots waiting for Bell to issue another demand. He would tell Kate about the kickback and the affair and hope to God she would forgive him. It wasn't an enviable choice, but perhaps necessary.

  "It won't be that easy to get rid of me, Josh."

  "You wouldn't have much hold over me if I told Kate."

  She looked at him with a crooked smile, amused by his attempt at trying to get the upper hand. "Do you think Kate would understand what you did? Besides, even if you did, I've still got you for the bribe. I'm sure that your employers, the police and the people living in that apartment complex would be most interested in your part in its dubious construction."

  Josh looked around furtively, checking that someone hadn't overheard them.

  "Don't worry, Josh. No one here cares about you and your sordid past," she reassured.

  "So what will it take to get rid of you?"

  She paused for a moment. "A lifetime of watching you squirm because of what you did to me."

  He saw the hatred ablaze in her eyes. "What did I do to make you hate me that much?"

  "You dumped me. You had your fun. You came to me when you had problems at home. You promised you'd leave her for me, but you chickened out when things got all lovey-dovey again. You shit on me, Josh."

  A woman with her preschool age child walked past Josh and Bell. Offended by the foul language, she grabbed her daughter's hand and sped past. She muttered her disgust as she went.

  Bell embarrassed him, but she ignored the woman.

  "I don't regret breaking up with you. It was wrong to cheat on Kate. I regret the affair. I betrayed my family and I was wrong."

  "What about me?" she demanded.

  "What I did to you was wrong. I never should have gotten involved with you and I apologize to you, right now. I'm sorry."

  "And you think that's enough?"

  "I want it to be enough. I want to be left alone. I don't care about the money. I don't want to see you prosecuted for blackmail. I just want peace in my life."

  "I'm not sure that I can grant you that." Bell stood up. "We all have wants, but we rarely get them."

  Still seated, Josh grabbed her wrist. "This can't continue.

  You know that."

  "I know." Her smile weakened and she looked away.

  He let go of her wrist. Bell walked toward the exit.

  He watched the bustling crowd moving from one habitat to another swallow her up.

  The professional was perfectly camouflaged amongst the tourists. His target hadn't spotted him in the crowd. He was good at just fitting in, disappearing amidst the masses. And he doubted anyone in the zoo would remember him by the time they got home. Not even that guy with his two brats in tow who walked right into him at the jaguar enclosure while he watched his target take a seat on the bench. The family man had looked stunned and apologized profusely, swearing blind he hadn't seen the professional. The hit man took the remark as a compliment.

  He watched from no more than twenty feet away, but found it difficult to listen with all those damned kids whooping like monkeys.

  The trip to the zoo had puzzled him. His target had left the house, visited a drugstore, gone to the bank, then come to the zoo. Why hadn't he brought his daughter? What good father didn't bring his daughter to the zoo? But a short fifteen-minute wait revealed all--a clandestine meeting with a woman. What is Mr.

  Michaels up to? Is he a bad boy? A lady friend to keep perhaps? This was something the professional would enjoy watching.

  Sometimes in his investigations he came across some interesting alternative lifestyles his targets kept. One of his targets had a taste for peep shows and prostitutes when he was not with his happy family at home. Another had been a cross-dresser. It had been hard not to laugh when he saw an overweight middle-aged man prancing around like a little girl. Several had kept mistresses, and Michaels was turning out to be one of those. There'd been so many little oddities he had gazed upon in the course of his work. The human race never failed to amaze him.

  This meeting was different, not quite what he had expected. His target didn't look too pleased to see the woman. The professional saw Michaels snap his arm away. Rejecting her affections. Is that money I see being exchanged? Michaels was turning out to be a very interesting assignment. The professional decided the woman wasn't a mistress. She might have been once, but not now. It looked like extortion was the name of the game these days.

  The professional smiled. There's an angle here I can exploit. Mr. Michaels, you're giving me a lot of material. A germ of an idea began to grow. It would be messy, but it would be very dramatic if it worked. It would be one of his best efforts. He leaned his head against the rail of the polar bear habitat, one person among many, but his was the only head not turned toward the marine mammal.

  He watched the woman get up and leave his target. It looked like a touching moment and he wished he could tell what was being said. He would look into lip reading classes after this contract. She headed in the direction of the exit and he followed. He could afford to leave Michaels alone, for now. He had what he needed on him for the moment. He wanted to find out more about this woman. She could be useful.

  In the parking lot, the woman got into a black Chevy Cobalt coupe and the professional followed in his Taurus.

  He shadowed her progress north across town to the Radisson Hotel. She went in and he kept a reasonable distance behind. At the entrance, a doorman greeted her and he checked out her ass after she passed him. The professional was greeted similarly, but without having his ass checked. The woman walked up to the young female desk clerk.

  The professional picked up a free local newspaper off a stand and made sure he got close enough to hear the conversation.

  "Hello, how can I help you?" the desk clerk asked.

  "Any messages for room three-oh-seven?" she asked.

  The desk clerk checked and told her there weren't any. The woman headed over to the elevator.

  The professional went up to the other clerk on duty, a bored looking man in his thirties. "Excuse me, could I use your restrooms?"

  "Yes, sir. No problem, just turn left at the restaurant and they're on your left." The desk clerk leaned over the counter and pointed to his right, in the opposite direction of the elevators.

  "Thanks," the professional said and smiled.

  "Not at all, sir."

  The professional went off in search of the restrooms as directed. He locked himself into a stall and sat on the toilet for a respectable time before flushing and leaving the restroom.

  He returned to the reception desk. The male desk clerk the professional had spoken to earlier was occupied with a customer. He approached the young female desk clerk who had dealt with Josh Michaels's secret woman.

>   She smiled at him.

  "Excuse me, you have a lady in room three-oh-seven, an Asian woman, early thirties. Now I'm sure I know her from a company we used to work at and I wanted to check to see if it was her." The professional managed to look benign, hopeless and charming all at the same time.

  She checked her computer records. "Room three-oh seven is a Miss Belinda Wong."

  "It is her," he beamed.

  The desk clerk beamed back, happy for him and for her. It was probably the first interesting thing to happen all day.

  "Do you have a card with a phone number I could call her back on?"

  The desk clerk nodded. She gave him a matchbook and pointed to the number on the back. "Just change the last three numbers with her room number and you'll get straight through."

  "Thanks very much," he fawned.

  "But don't wait too long, she checks out tomorrow."

  "Does she now?" A crooked smile trickled across his face. "Thank you very much indeed for your help."

  The professional walked away from the reception back to the parking lot. He would be waiting here tomorrow to see where she went.

  The professional didn't get far before the desk clerk called out to him. He stopped and turned around.

  "Good luck sir," she said in a hoarse whisper and grinned.

  The professional grinned back and gave her a thumbs-up.

  The doorman showed the professional out of the hotel. Hello, Miss Belinda Wong, who are you and what do you want? The professional thought.

  CHAPTER NINE

  "Daddy, Daddy, I heard another car pull up," Abby said, bouncing on the spot excitedly.

  "Well, isn't it your job to greet them?" Josh asked.

  Abby agreed it was by nodding vigorously. She bounded off down the alley next to the Michaels's home to meet the visitors to the party. Wiener scampered behind her, acting as her second in command. As she got to the front of the house, she found people getting out of a Toyota Camry parked curbside.

  "Uncle Bo-bo and Aunt Nancy!" Abby called. Her ribboned, pigtailed hair bounced as she ran, as did Wiener's, whose ears were tied with similar ribbons.

  She crashed into Bob Deuce and hugged him.

  "Hi, Abby, you look pretty," Bob said, picking Abby up.

  "Hello, Abby. Yes, you do look very grown-up,"

  Nancy Deuce said, smiling.

  "Thank you," Abby said, grinning.

  Bob nodded at the dog. "What's up with Wiener's ears?"

  "I wanted to put his ears in pigtails like mine," she replied.

  "Oh, very nice," Nancy said.

  "Who's this?" Abby asked.

  "This is a colleague of mine, James Mitchell. I thought I'd bring him. Hope that's okay?"

  "Yeah, that's okay," Abby said. "Hello, Mr.

  Mitchell."

  "Call me James," Mitchell said.

  Bob put Abby down at her request. She led the invited guests to her father in the backyard.

  Josh was stocking an ice-filled bucket with beers on the lawn next to a trestle table. It was one of two tablecloth-covered tables smothered with snacks and drinks. At the rear of the yard Kate manned the barbecue and waved to her friends. Other early arrivals sat at a picnic table with drinks. The CD player, relocated to the rear porch, sent music across the backyard.

  "Hey, buddy, happy birthday," Bob called across the yard.

  "Happy thirty-eighth, Josh," Nancy added.

  Josh looked up from the ice bucket and smiled at his approaching friends with a stranger in tow.

  "I'm glad you made it." Josh checked his watch. "A fashionable thirty minutes late, I see."

  The birthday invitations were for seven, but Josh didn't expect most people until eight. Bob's arrival swelled the numbers into double figures.

  "Josh, I hope you don't mind me bringing someone.

  This is a colleague of mine, James Mitchell. He's in the area for a few days with nothing to do and you know what that's like, so I invited him."

  "No, not a problem." Josh put out a hand to Mitchell. "Hi, James, I'm Josh. You're very welcome."

  "Thanks very much. I hope you don't mind me gate crashing. I'm not as desperate for a night out as Bob makes out."

  "No, really, make yourself at home. There's plenty to drink and food soon," Josh said.

  "Is Kate manning the barbecue?" Bob asked.

  "Yeah, I'm on drinks and public relations tonight,"

  Josh replied.

  "Barbecuing, that's a man's job. You're losing your control, my man," Bob said, in mock indignation.

  "Oh, shut up, Bob," Nancy said and punched her husband in the arm.

  "You forget, Bob, when it's my birthday, my loving ladies do all the work for me and I get to enjoy my day.

  So, who is in control now?" Josh responded.

  "I think I'll see if Kate needs any help now that the testosterone is flying," Nancy said. "I'll leave you to your fantasies."

  "Thank you, my love," Bob called to her and blew her a kiss.

  Nancy blew a kiss back.

  "Can I get you guys a drink?" Josh asked. They nodded and Josh removed three bottles of beer from the freshly stocked ice bucket and popped the caps.

  "Happy thirty-eighth," Bob said, producing an envelope from his back pocket.

  Josh had a bemused look on his face when he opened the envelope. The present was a gift certificate for adult swimming lessons. "You bastard," he said, grinning.

  "I thought you'd like it. I'm glad to see you smiling again," Bob said.

  "Happy birthday, Josh!" a man holding Abby's hand called. He was in his early fifties, small, no more than five-five. He was slight and as thin as the silver hair that covered his balding scalp.

  "Good to see you, Mark," Josh called back.

  "I thought I'd show my face." Abby let go of his hand and bounded off.

  "Bob, you know Mark Keegan," Josh said, and Bob nodded in agreement. "And this is a colleague of Bob's, James Mitchell."

  The men shook hands.

  "I brought you a couple bottles of wine. I thought I should, seeing as you owe me money. We still on for tomorrow?"

  Mark asked, giving the bottles to Josh.

  "Yeah, and I'll bring a check with me." Josh put the bottles on the table with the rest of the alcohol.

  "How is that plane of yours?" Bob asked.

  "We just had it serviced, so it's as good as new.

  That's what the money's for," Mark said.

  "So you've got a plane?" James said, breaking into the conversation.

  "Yeah, a little Cessna C152 we bought four years ago. It needed some work, but we got it at a good price," Mark explained.

  "Mark and I learned to fly at the same time, so we went partners on a plane," Josh added.

  "Yeah, you can't miss it, either. Fancy paint job with their names on the doors like they're a pair of top gun aces," Bob joked.

  "We had a bit of luck," Josh said. "We fly out of the Davis airstrip and a kid from the college there overheard us talking about repainting the plane. He offered to paint a design on it for a school project and we said yeah. All we had to pay for was the materials."

  "That

  kid did a great job, it really stands out,"

  Mark said.

  "I've flown a couple of times, but I don't have a license,"

  James said.

  "Come out with us some time," Mark said.

  "No, I'm only here until Monday," James explained.

  "Oh, I thought you worked with Bob," Mark said.

  "No, I'm an agent with Pinnacle Investments visiting some of the brokers in California."

  "You work for Pinnacle Investments?" Josh asked.

  He wasn't about to let one of their employees get away.

  "I've got a big bone to pick with you."

  "Well, if you people have business, I think I'll give my best to Kate. I'll see you about ten tomorrow,"

  Mark said, excusing himself.

  Josh nodded to him. "I'll catch you later."


  "What's up, pal?" Bob asked.

  "Thursday, Pinnacle Investments sent Kate a funeral wreath to the house with my name on it," Josh said angrily.

  "Jesus, how did that happen?" Bob asked.

  "That's what I wanted him.to tell me."

  "I haven't spoken to Pinnacle," Bob said in his defense.

  "Christ, I'm sorry, man. That's the last thing you needed."

  "I don't know how it could have happened," James said. "Please let me apologize on behalf of the firm. Let me make a phone call now. There won't be anyone there, but I can leave a voice mail so they get it first thing Monday. Can I go into the house to make the call?"

  "Yeah, no problem," Josh said sharply.

  James Mitchell went into the house. Josh and Bob were alone together, the first time since the sports bar.

  They looked gravely at each other, their minds full of unspoken thoughts.

  "How did it go with Bell?" Bob whispered.

  "I paid her, but she's not going to stop." Josh sighed and his anger fizzled out.

  What does she want?"

  "As far as I can see, just to screw me over."

  "You know this'll never end unless you do something."

  "Of course I know that."

  "Then what are you going to do?"

  "I don't know."

  "I think it's time to tell the truth. It's the only way to stop this."

  "Oh, shit," Josh muttered.

  His response wasn't to Bob's comment, but as a reaction to who he saw over Bob's shoulder. Belinda Wong walked toward him, hand-in-hand with Abby.

  The color drained from Josh's face.

  "She's here," Josh whispered.

  "What?" Bob turned in the direction of Josh's gaze.

  "What's she doing here?"

  "I think we're going to find out."

  Josh left Bob by the beer bucket. He intercepted his blackmailer and daughter before they got too near the other partygoers.

  "Daddy, this is Bell. It's short for Belinda," Abby said.

  "I know, sweetie," Josh said with a plastic smile.

  "Hi, Josh. Happy birthday," Bell said.

  "Thanks, Bell." Josh hugged his ex-mistress and kissed her cheek. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

  he whispered into her ear.