by Simon Wood
“Jesus. How?” Bob asked.
“He crashed our plane this morning, flying to Stockton.
All I know is he radioed the tower with engine
problems and he attempted an emergency landing. The last thing they heard was Mark screaming all the way into the ground.”
Nancy put a hand to her mouth. She walked up to
him and put a comforting hand on his arm. “Oh, Josh, that’s awful.”
“I heard about a plane going down on the radio and thought nothing of it,” Bob said.
“What did Kate say?” Nancy said.
“I haven’t told her. I was coming from the airport to here when I heard the radio report and I just knew it was Mark. Can I call her?”
“Of course you can, man. You don’t need to ask.”
Bob retrieved the cordless telephone from the living room and handed it to Josh.
“Can I get you something to drink, Josh?” Nancy
asked.
“Anything cold would be good,” he replied, and dialed his home number.
“I’ll give you a minute.” Bob walked into the kitchen, where Nancy had gone moments earlier.
Kate picked up the telephone on the fourth ring and Josh told her what had happened to Mark Keegan. The accident shocked and upset her. She was also upset he had not come home first. He apologized and promised to be home soon. He hung up and went into the
kitchen.
“How did she take it?” Nancy handed him the
lemonade.
“About as well as you’d expect. She’s not too pleased I’m here when I should be at home.” Josh took a sip from the lemonade. It was bitter, but good.
“She’s not wrong, is she?” Nancy said.
“You make good lemonade, Nancy.”
“What are you doing here, Josh?” Bob asked.
“Weren’t you meant to be flying with Mark?”
“Yeah, I was, but I wanted to see you about your colleague, James Mitchell.”
“What about him?”
“Do you mind if we walk and talk? I just don’t
seem to be able to stay still.” What Josh said was true, but he also didn’t want Nancy hearing what he had to say.
“Yeah, sure,” Bob said.
Josh took untidy gulps from his lemonade and
placed the empty glass on the sink drainer. “Thanks for the lemonade, Nancy.”
“Any time, Josh.” Nancy smiled, but her concern for her husband’s friend showed through.
They walked deeper into the housing development.
To Josh, the street was eerily quiet. Sidewalks and front yards were deserted, but signs of recent life did exist.
Freshly washed and polished cars sat in driveways. Discarded baseball bats and soccer balls lay strewn across
freshly mowed lawns. It was like a neutron bomb had gone off and he and Bob were the only ones left alive.
His nuclear test theory was swiftly dispelled when a couple of kids came running out of a nearby house. A year or two older than Abby, they resumed kicking a soccer ball in the street.
Josh walked with his head down, staring at the
oatmeal-colored concrete sidewalk. Bob walked alongside him looking forward with his hands behind his
back. Neither of them had spoken for several minutes.
Bob stopped walking. “Josh, what did you want to
know about James Mitchell?”
Josh took two more steps, stopped, turned and
lifted his head to look at Bob. “What do you know about him?”
Bob shrugged. “Nothing, really. He’s an insurance agent with Pinnacle and is in California scaring up business. He’s on the road with nothing to do most of the time. I’ve been there and I felt sorry for him, so I invited him to your party. What’s wrong, did he piss
somebody off?”
“Yeah, me,” Josh said.
“Shit, I’m sorry. Bad idea—”
Josh cut Bob off mid-sentence. “He drove me off the road. And you brought him to my home.”
Bob’s expression changed in increments as he absorbed Josh’s words. It was as though layers of surprise were torn off his face one by one until the pure expression of shock came through. Bob walked forward and
took hold of Josh’s wrist like he was a disobedient child.
“What are you saying? That I knew this guy was the one on the bridge?” Bob demanded.
“I’m asking you what you know about him. That’s
all.”
“That’s all I know,” Bob said.
“Let’s keep walking. I don’t want the neighbors listening,”
Josh said.
They walked again.
“What makes you think he’s the one?” Bob asked.
“When you were leaving last night you and he were talking and he made the thumbs-down sign to you.”
“That’s it? That’s what you’ve based this guy’s guilt on? Oh, come on Josh, that’s a little thin, don’t you think?”
“He made exactly the same gesture. No two people
would do it that way.”
Bob frowned. “Josh, you’re not convincing me, pal.
It still seems you’re reaching for something that isn’t there.”
“And it was Pinnacle Investments that sent the
wreath,” Josh said.
Bob shook his head in disbelief. “So you are saying James Mitchell ran you off the road, found out who you were, then sent you a wreath as some sort of sick joke. And by coincidence, you happen to be one of his firm’s customers. Forgive me, Josh, but it doesn’t sound plausible.”
“Who says that he’s an insurance agent? Don’t you think it’s funny that just as all this shit happens, Bell comes back on the scene wanting money? It occurred to me today they might be working together. I saw them talking last night.”
“Jesus, Josh. You don’t know that.”
“Neither do you.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Then help me find out. Prove me wrong,” Josh said.
Bob looked down at his feet and kicked a small
chunk of gravel into the road. He thought for a minute.
“How do we do that?”
“We’ll pay him a visit. You picked him up from his hotel. You know where he’s staying.”
“Yeah, but I’m sure he was making off for San Francisco today or tomorrow.”
“Well, we won’t know if we don’t try. Let’s go now.”
“No, Josh,” Bob said. “Your friend has just been
killed and your wife is worried sick. Go home.”
“He’ll get away.”
Bob sighed. “I’ll pick you up first thing in the morning and we’ll go to the motel and check out James
Mitchell, together. But you’re going home right now.
Okay?”
“Okay.” Josh agreed reluctantly.
“Good. We’ll settle this tomorrow.”
Bob picked up Josh from his home before eight the following morning. They trudged across the city on
commuter-clogged roads like blood struggling to flow through a diseased heart. Bob drove to the southeast side of the city, where he had picked up James Mitchell Saturday night.
Bob found it difficult to strike up a conversation. So far, Josh had given him a collection of one-word responses.
This wasn’t like him. He and Josh never ran
out of things to say. He would make Josh talk to him.
“How are you and Kate?” he asked.
“Okay.”
“No, really. And don’t give another single word answer.
Talk to me, damn it.”
Josh sighed. “Not good. She feels I’m a different person.
She thinks this accident has gotten to me more
than I think. We argued again. Even Abby and Wiener are treating me differently,” he said.
Bob guessed what it must be like living with Josh, if his friend’s behavior was anything like his rambl
ings yesterday. Life must be hard for Kate, and it couldn’t be doing the kid any good being exposed to Josh right now. Bob hoped their meeting with Mitchell would
clear things up and Josh could move on. Of course, he still had the blackmail hanging over his head. Bell hadn’t been worth it in his opinion. Jesus, Josh had screwed up and it was coming back at him tenfold. Bob pulled off the freeway and the motel came into view.
Bob slotted the Toyota into a parking space at the River City Inn. The motel was positioned on a development that was home to the social security office, a Shell service station, another motel chain and very little else.
Bob had stayed in places like these when he was a salesman on the road. He was glad he’d established roots and built up his own insurance business. Bob didn’t envy James Mitchell’s life. He locked the car and he followed Josh to the motel reception.
“Let me do the talking,” Bob said. “I don’t want to freak anybody out if this turns out to be nothing, especially Mitchell. I still deal with Pinnacle Investments
and I don’t want to alienate them.”
Josh nodded in agreement.
The motel receptionist, a pretty blond woman in her mid-twenties, all lipstick and cotton candy hair, looked up when Bob and Josh entered. Her name
badge said tammy. She flashed a welcoming corporate smile. “Hi there, welcome to the River City Inn. Can I help you?”
Bob leaned on the reception desk and flashed the
same plastic smile Tammy gave. “Yes, I hope so. I was looking for a colleague of mine, James Mitchell, but I can’t remember what room he’s in.”
“Let me check that for you, sir.” The receptionist looked up James Mitchell’s name on the computer
records. “I’m sorry, there’s no James Mitchell here,”
Tammy said.
“Oh, he did say he was checking out either yesterday or today,” Bob said. “Did he leave a forwarding address?”
“No,
sir. I don’t have a James Mitchell checked in or
out,” she said.
Bob looked at Josh in confusion. “I don’t understand, I picked him up from …” Bob let his words
trail off. “I must have the wrong motel. Thanks very much for your help. I’m really sorry to have put you to any trouble.”
“No problem at all, sir,” Tammy said, still smiling.
Josh shot Bob a baleful look that said everything.
“We may have his name wrong, he’s only visiting
us,” Josh said.
“What did he look like?”
“He’s about forty-five, average height, medium build, brown, graying hair, very ordinary looking,” Josh said.
“We have a lot of men here who fit that description.”
“C’mon, Josh, we’ve got the wrong place,” Bob said, and started to move away from the reception desk.
Tammy’s smile collapsed immediately when the two
turned their back on her to leave. A non-corporate look of puzzlement replaced her smile.
In the parking lot, Josh couldn’t contain his frustration.
“What was that? You bailed on me, Bob.”
“Hang on, Josh, wait a minute. I know this is the place I came to on Saturday and I don’t know why they don’t have a record of him, unless he gave them a false name. And I don’t see a reason for an insurance agent to give a false name.”
“So what are you saying?”
“I think you’re right.”
Josh calmed down. “Hey, I’m sorry. It’s just that I feel no one’s in my corner.”
“Believe me man, I’m on your side. Something is beginning to smell here.”
“How did you meet him on Saturday?”
“I met him in the reception area. He was ready and waiting.”
Bob fished in his jacket pocket and pulled out a Pinnacle Investments business card. He always kept business cards. James Mitchell hadn’t given him one, but
Bob had one from another Pinnacle representative. He looked at the embossed card and brandished it like a winning lottery ticket.
Bob removed his cellular from his jacket pocket and dialed the telephone number on the card. “Moment of truth.”
“Hello, Pinnacle Investments. Your life is in our hands. My name’s Karen. How can I help you?” the receptionist said.
“Hi, Karen, could you give me a contact number for one of your insurance agents, James Mitchell, please?”
“Just checking for you, sir.”
Silence greeted Bob for nearly a minute.
“I’m sorry, there’s no one by that name working
here. Are you sure you have the correct name?”
“I don’t know. I’ll check my paperwork and get back to you. Thank you so much for your help.”
“Could I have your name, sir?” the telephone receptionist asked.
Bob hung up.
“What did they say?”
“They’ve never heard of James Mitchell.”
“Why are we going to see a florist?” Bob asked.
“I want to know who sent that wreath,” Josh said.
“Pinnacle Investments, right?” Bob answered.
“So the card said, but there’s no proof. James Mitchell, or whoever this guy is, said he was from Pinnacle Investments, but he wasn’t. So who says they sent the wreath?”
The florist that sent the wreath was situated a few blocks from Josh’s home, a small business amongst many on the strip mall put up to service the local community.
Forget-Me-Nots was sandwiched between a
delivery pizza joint and a manicure parlor that sold false nails for 7.95. Bob pulled into a parking space directly in front of the store, just vacated by an old woman in a Cadillac Seville.
They entered the store and the electronic buzzer
sounded. The staff consisted of one person—a tall middle-aged woman who came out from the rear of the shop. She was gaunt and a good fifteen pounds underweight.
She looked as though someone had let the air
out of her. Her iron-gray hair was thick and loosely curled to the middle of her back. Her jeans and big wool sweater hung on her like clothes on a coat
hanger.
“Can I help you with anything?” she asked.
“We were after some information,” Josh said. “You sent a sympathy wreath to my house last week. It came from Pinnacle Investments.”
The woman pursed her thin lips as she narrowed her eyes. “You’re Josh Michaels?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Oh, you’re the one. Chris was none too pleased
with your … outburst.”
Josh flushed a little, embarrassed by his misdemeanor being brought to book. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have tried to kill the messenger. And if Chris is here, I would like to apologize to him in person.”
Her face softened at Josh’s apology. “Well, he’s not and I don’t think he would be too interested in what you had to say anyway.”
Josh winced and looked at Bob. He smiled flatly.
“Is that all you wanted?” she asked.
“I hope you can understand that my friend was under a lot of stress and someone played a sick joke on him. His car was forced off the road into the river. And we are here to get to the bottom of it,” Bob said.
“That was you? Wow. I saw the car dragged from the river on TV.”
Josh nodded.
“Can you tell us who placed the order for the wreath?”
Bob asked.
“Let me check.” She disappeared into the rear of the store.
Bob placed his hands in his pockets and leaned back slightly, forcing his jacket open, displaying his ample belly. He looked approvingly around the store.
The florist returned through a string bead doorway.
“It was ordered by Pinnacle Investments from their head office, in Seattle.”
“And it definitely came from Pinnacle Investments?”
Bob asked.
“Yeah, I had to call them back to check some details.”
Josh frowned.
“Is that the answer you were looking for?” the florist asked.
It wasn’t.
Josh walked the five blocks from Forget-Me-Nots to his home with a bunch of roses in one hand. The flowers would be something nice for Kate. He hoped it
would put a smile on her face. Also, the purchase was in some way Josh’s apology to all those employed at the florist he’d offended. He hoped he would start making people happy.
But he was far from happy. He’d tracked James
Mitchell down to his motel, but that wasn’t his name and there was no sign of his existence. He’d expected the man to have bought the wreath, but he hadn’t. Pinnacle Investments had sent it. It didn’t make sense.
There was no connection, no conspiracy, no nothing.
Maybe he was overwrought from the stressful events of the last week and his paranoia was unfounded. An irritated driver beeped her horn at him. Josh snapped back
into the real world and found he had stepped onto the crosswalk when the light was against him.
Josh arrived at his home a few minutes later. He let himself in and called out to his family. He heard voices from the backyard and immediately put the flowers behind his back. He closed the door with his foot as Kate and Abby came in from the patio.
“Hi Dad,” Abby said.
“Everything okay?” Kate said.
“Yeah.” Josh produced the flowers from behind his back. “These are for you, babe.”
At a loss for words, Kate took the flowers, put her arms around her husband and kissed him. “Thank you.
I love you,” she whispered in his ear.
“I’ve been such an idiot,” he whispered back. “I’m sorry.”
“Never mind that.”
Their embrace was brought to a sharp conclusion by Abby. “What about me?” she said.
They looked down at their daughter.
“Oh yeah,” Josh said.
He released Kate and removed a single rose from the bunch. Kneeling, he gave it to Abby. “Of course a rose for my other lady.”
“I’ll put it in my room,” Abby said, and tore up the stairs.
“Don’t forget to put it in water,” Kate called after her.
“Am I a good husband?” he asked.
She smiled at him crookedly, bemused. “Yeah, I
suppose.”
Kate turned her back on him and went into the