by Ivy Blake
Immediately after I stepped on the plane, I got out my phone and called the office. Even at this late hour, the key people were there, working with the legal team on fixing everything. Or so I hoped.
Thankfully, my last phone call had been effective, and instead of describing the problems, my people offered solutions, most of which I approved of. It seemed like everyone was collected enough to handle it on their own, and I wouldn’t need to use my ace this time. I would keep that pretty little picture of the DA for another issue.
My next call was to my personal lawyer, who reported on where they were regarding Owen’s personal safety. It wasn’t a fruitful conversation – all the lawyer said was that I had to come home to discuss the matter in private.
Which was exactly what I did. After I deplaned I had my driver take me all the way to my penthouse in River North. I was on the lookout for paparazzi. Even though I wasn’t a public person, the latest inquiries by the IRS had made their way to mass media – influencing the stock, while they were at it – and I knew there would be people eager to hear what I had to say.
Thankfully, the parking garage was private territory, and I had to take just a few steps to the elevator that took me back home, without ever seeing another person.
My lawyer was there, having a cup of coffee on the balcony, waiting.
“Glad you decided to show up, Owen.”
I spread my arms. “Time to face the music.”
“Very well.” The man walked back inside and set his cup down. “Coffee?”
I slid open the bar door. “Whiskey.”
“Good choice, considering.”
I poured three fingers and drank half of it. I knew the news wouldn’t be too good. “So?”
“The good news is we were wise to be preparing for the worst, even though it isn’t exactly what happened.”
“Get to the point, will you? I’m here, so let’s not sugarcoat it.”
“Internal Revenue spooks are on your ass, Owen. That deal you made last fall raised all kinds of red flags. We managed some damage control, in that this particular deal has you in the clear, but after they did some digging, they decided to go back as far as 2006 to see what you have been up to.”
“But they have no proof, right? We’ve been covering all bases.” I was sure of it, because I had been personally double-checking everything.
“Yes and no. They have no concrete facts, at least not until they get through ten years’ worth of paperwork all over the globe, but the amount of suspicious activity on its own is enough for them to get whatever clearance they want. And considering the money involved, they will want to dig deep.”
I downed the rest of the drink. “So, what? Let them dig. If we’re innocent until proven guilty, we can bury them under paperwork, just like I’ve told you already. We’ll start by giving them everything from ’06 and ’07. That’ll keep them occupied.”
“Had we given it up voluntarily when it was first brought up, sure. Only they’re not stupid. They know we’ve buried something–”
“A lot of things.”
“You said it. They know we’ve buried something, so they will insist on arresting everything we have in the file room, and they’ll start from yesterday’s files.”
“I’ll call the office, see what they can come up with. Honestly, I don’t care about the files as much at the moment. What about me? You said I was clear?”
“Technically, yes. If they were to look into you, they’d find nothing.”
I felt there was a but, yet I said, “Does that mean I can relax?”
“Not in the States. They will be following you, like they’ve been following Lawson, and a few of your other ex- partners. You’ll be a red flag for them. Better to lay low for a while. Full lockdown – no calls, no travel. Get somewhere and stay there. Understood?”
I had to grin at the cruel irony. For the past two days, I’d been hiding away on an island, where nobody would reach me, and the moment I leave, I’m told to go right back.
But this time – alone. I knew I couldn’t take Sydney away from her brother, and it wouldn’t be safe for her, anyway.
“Fuck… Fuck!” I turned around and smashed the glass against the wall, startling my lawyer.
“I know, Owen, it’s a shitty situation you’re in. But it won’t be long. You’ll take a vacation, get yourself collected–”
“I am collected! I have been for the past three days, until all this bullshit began!”
Baxter didn’t say anything for a long moment. “Listen, this is how things are, and I’m telling you how they are going to be, but you have to listen to me. We will take care of it, you have my word. How long have I been working for you?”
“Five years?”
“Close enough. Six, actually. And in that time, how many times have I fucked up?”
My silence was my reply.
“Exactly. So, you have to listen to me, and do this. I understand that you have met someone. Sydney, is it?”
I gazed at him.
“It’s my job to know, if that’s what you’re wondering. Now, for Sydney’s sake, leave the country for a little while. I’ll give you call when the coast is clear. Oh, and I’ve made sure the money you send to the hospital go through as charity, so don’t worry about that.”
The money, my money. It didn’t matter to me that Sydney was over our relationship. I was still holding up my end of the deal. It was only fair. Her brother didn’t deserve to get caught up in my mess.
I gave him a nod, my eyes full of gratitude. “Thank you. I will follow your advice. Hell, my plane is still warm, so…”
I got a new glass and poured myself another drink.
I had to tell her before I left. I owed her that.
Chapter 20
Sydney
Three weeks had passed since that night at the hospital. In that time, Declan and I had spent hours talking, catching up. I told him about Owen, everything there was to tell, the good and the bad.
He was getting better, too. It took a week for the infection to retreat and for Declan to get some of his strength back, but once he was feeling well enough to walk on his own, they transferred him to the hospital in Zion. The doctors there had ran every test there was to run in record time, and got Declan into their latest experimental program. Chemotherapy and drugs were still on the menu, but this time the effects were apparent. He had even put some weight on, which caused a new wave of banter between him and I.
I went back to work, but I visited Declan almost every day, spending some nights at the hospital with him, even though he asked me not to. “That’s out of question, Declan,” I would say.
The bills were paid the moment they arrived, but in that time, I had not heard from Owen once. I knew he was paying them, and even though I broke our deal I was thankful. He didn’t have to do that. I wasn’t his problem anymore.
But I missed him.
I hated to admit it, after everything, but I did. I truly missed him. And it hurt. So many times I wanted to reach out, to apologize, to say thank you for helping with Declan. But I didn’t even have his number.
+++
After a few weeks of treatment, I drove to Zion to meet with the head of the clinic, who was going to update me on Declan’s well-being. I arrived there just after six and went straight to the doctor’s office, nervous, as if I was walking into an exam.
“Happy to see you Miss Rogers,” the woman said, when I stepped inside. “I’ve been looking forward to this day!”
I couldn’t hold back the smile. “I assume it’s good news then?” I sat down across from her.
“Very much so! Your brother is a tough cookie, I’ll tell you that much! There’s almost no trace of the infection that we could find in his lungs. He can breathe and speak normally, and he does that every time the nurses are around!” They giggled, and she continued, “The cancer is still there, and we have to continue treating him until we see a positive tendency.”
“How much longer will that
take?” I asked.
“Impossible to say, I’m afraid. We are doing everything we can, but there is only so much we can do. It can take a couple more weeks, or it can take a year. I don’t want to alarm you, but you must be ready for the long haul.”
“Oh, I’ve been preparing for that our whole lives.”
The doctor offered a sympathetic smile. “What I can guarantee is that the treatment can make things better, but I can’t promise it will cure your brother. I wish I could say that.”
“I know. It’s okay. Thank you. We will keep fighting. Like you said, Declan is a tough cookie, and he makes me tough. We’ll get through it.”
“I know you will, Sydney, and we’re here for you.” When I began to get up, she added, “Do say hi to your brother from me when you are delivering the news, okay?”
“Will do.” I smiled, and left the office. I felt like I could fly! It wasn’t a knockout victory, but I felt they were half-way there. The Bon Jovi song popped into my head, and I went down the hallway humming the melody and mouthing the words. This was something, real progress. And it was all thanks to Owen.
I walked into Declan’s room with a huge smile on my face. Declan was watching TV, sitting in my bed.
“Have you talked to Dr. Morrison?” he asked.
“I sure did!”
“A-and?”
“No infection!”
“Fuck yes no infection! I kicked its ass!”
“I’m so proud of you! The doctors here have done an amazing job.”
My brother turned more serious. “About that. I assume we have some private benefactor paying out bills.”
“Yes,” I said simply, unwilling to go into details. The subject was bothering her, too, but I wasn’t going to worry about until after Declan had been released from the hospital
“Is it a lot?”
“It’s at least twice more than a lot. The monitoring here alone costs more than what we have paid on our own.”
“Holy shit…”
“Yeah. But that doesn’t matter for now, right? We’ve been given this chance to heal you, so let’s focus on that.” I sat down next to him, looking at the TV screen.
Declan said, “Tell him I’m thankful. If you ever speak to him again that is.”
“Yeah, I will, one day.”
“You should look for him,” Declan said, matter-of-factly.
“What? No. He doesn’t want to see me. Otherwise he would’ve called.”
“He’s paying my medical bills, if that’s not an attempt to reconcile, I don’t know what is. I just can’t stand seeing you suffering. Let me worry about you, for once!”
I sighed looking at him. I did need to thank Owen for his help, if nothing else. “You know, you might be right. Thanks, I’ll try.”
“Please, do. For your own sake. And for mine, I can’t handle you moping around here anymore.”
I pushed him as he laughed. “Fine, I’ll find him, okay?”
+++
I got home that evening and did the only thing I could think to do.
Google Owen Hayes. And pray something of value came up. I saw dozens of articles surrounding both the company and person, but I ignored all that – all I cared about was how to find someone who didn’t want to be found. What I did look into was my company’s address and phone number.
I made numerous calls, but when one finally connected, the secretary said, “I’m sorry, I’m not at liberty to disclose phone numbers of my superiors.”
Which wasn’t a surprise on its own, but the way the woman spoke, it was as if she’d been trained to say exactly that sentence. I hung up and tried another number. Same result. The next number wasn’t much better. I had tried every number with every extension on the corporate website, but each time I was either denied the information or given another number that led to nothing.
Finally, once I had exhausted the list, I tried to find something useful in one of the articles. I discovered that a lot of it was appalling speculation and straight up defamation, but I tried not to think about. After twenty minutes, I finally found the glimmer of hope I’d been searching for – Owen’s lawyer.
The man had been quoted in one of the stories, so I looked him up, and then found my firm. I made the call.
It went through to his assistant, of course, and I received the same treatment as I had at Owen’s offices.
“I have some information on Owen Hayes,” I tried.
“I’m afraid we are not interested in any tips on the matter at this time.” Another automated response.
“Please! Tell him it’s Sydney mercer!”
“Miss, like I’ve said–”
I was starting to lose hope, but then the call was cut short abruptly. A male voice said, “Miss Mercer?”
“Yes! Are you Owen’s lawyer? Can you tell me where he is? I need to speak with him. I have to fix things.”
He replied, “Miss Mercer, I’m afraid you won’t be able to reach Owen at this time. Communication is kept to a minimum, until things are sorted out.”
“I see.”
After a short silence, he said, “But I will pass on that you’ve called him. Anything you want to say?”
“Just thank him from me and my brother. Declan is getting better. And tell him that I’m waiting for his return. I’d like to thank him, in person.”
“Very well, Miss Mercer. Now, if you don’t mind, don’t try to find him, okay? He will find you, when the time is right.”
“Thanks,” I said, but there were only short beeps on the other end.
Chapter 21
Owen
“Is that all she said?” I asked. I was on the island, taking a walk up in its hills, trying my hardest not to go insane. “Are you certain?”
“Yes, Owen. Sydney thanks you, and she’s waiting for you. Nothing to worry about. Her brother is getting better.”
“Good, good. Thanks for the update. Now, where are we with the case? To be honest, Lucas, I’m losing it down here.”
“Hang in there Owen, because we might be onto something. So far, every case they tried to file has been dismissed. As we predicted, they brought up the fact of the amount of accounts of suspicious business practices, but every case was looked at separately, and you have covered all your bases there.”
“Told you!”
“That’s not all. This week has been the busiest. The IRS wants to look into everything at once, and they want to drag every member of the board into court to ask them about the deals. Thankfully, like you, they have good lawyers.”
I kicked a rock of a cliff and watched it bounced down the slope. “If you’re quite done sucking your own dick, get to the point.”
Baxter snickered. “The point is, they’re looking for you like you’re the fucking Cinderella, Owen, but they have no leverage. There isn’t a judge insane enough send the feds after you. In other news, your people have done a good job clearing most of your charities, or whatever you want to call them. And since it’s all tied in, your shell corporations have been cleared, as well. Basically, the IRS is at square one. You were right, they will have to dive into paperwork like Scrooge McDuck into money, if they hope to ever prove anything.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying, Lucas? Am I good to go?” I stopped in the middle of the forest path, ready to turn back given the signal.
“Yes, Owen, you can come home. I will issue an official press-release and notify your office.”
“I owe you a dinner, man.”
“You owe me a lot more than that, Owen. See ya.”
I clicked off and ran back to my mansion, leaping over rocks and tree branches, like some feral beast. When I reached the paved road, I slowed down and called my pilot. I had forty minutes to get ready.
I hadn’t shaved in weeks – because, why would he? – so that was the first order of business. As the hair fell into the sink, I began to recognize the person in the mirror. I smiled, thinking of Sydney, she’d appreciate a good shave on his face. She was w
aiting for him. Which meant he had a chance.
There were no things to pack, so I grabbed my phone and my wallet and raced to the airfield.
“I trust everything worked out for the best?” the pilot asked me, as I was boarding.
“Not yet. Let’s get the fuck off this island already and fix that.”
Finally, I landed back in Chicago. On my way home, I felt like I had never left: the city was still the same, busy and oblivious to everything out of its immediate reach. As they were moving east on I-90, nobody paid me any attention. It was like I wasn’t even there. It felt good. He hoped it would carry on that way. I didn’t want public attention any more. A month earlier he might have used this scandal to promote himself and the company, but that seemed so insignificant now. There was only one thing he truly wanted.
I told the driver to change their destination, and I spent the rest of the ride planning my evening.
Half an hour later, the car stopped in front of a small apartment building. There was a car under a tree, a silver Honda.
“Wish me luck,” I said. “And don’t wait for me.”
I stepped out of the car, made sure my shirt looked okay and went up to the front door. I felt like a high-schooler about to ring the bell to ask a girl for prom. I tried to control my breathing, and pressed on the buzzer. A minute later I heard the door unlock, and then it swung open.
Sydney was standing there, wearing a bathrobe, her hair in a ponytail. I looked into her eyes, her nose and the freckles around it, those beautiful lips. Her eyes were getting wet. We stood frozen for a moment longer, processing it, and then she opened the door further, inviting me in.
“You’re here,” she said breathlessly sitting down the couch.
“I am.”
“Where were you? Am I even allowed to know?”
“The island. Hiding out. How are you? How’s your brother?’
“Better, thanks to you. You didn’t have to keep covering the bills you know. I know I broke our deal.”
“Of course, you did, because you were scared. But you don’t have to be anymore, I’m cleared. A free man.”