Catching On Fire

by Sue Knott

  I was a mess and I was supposed to meet Kim and Bill in fifteen minutes. Fortunately, it had snowed a couple inches during the day. I grabbed a handful of fresh snow off the trunk of my car and rubbed my face in it. At least that evened out the blotchy red to an all-over red.

  Chapter 27

  Kim and Bill were already at Fat Bob’s Smokehouse when I got there. Kim was sitting very close to Bill, leaning into him with a kind of proud ownership. I’d never seen her quite like that with a guy. She usually sort of slunk next to them like she imagined herself to be an unworthy tagalong.

  “Rae! Did you walk here? Your face looks frozen!”

  “Stupid me. I slid on a patch of ice and my head kerplunked right into the snow on my trunk.”

  “Are you alright?” Bill had stood up to greet me. (Points for good manners!) He extended his hand and I shook it. Like Amir, Bill seemed more a man than a guy.

  “I’m fine. Just a little cold and embarrassed.”

  “Here, have my hot tea. It should just about be done steeping.”

  Kim was such the motherly type. Caring. Selfless. Generous. I hoped Bill was taking note.

  “Thanks. You are a lifesaver. Have you been here long?”

  It turned out that they’d only arrived about five minutes before me. Fat Bob’s was a favorite of mine, so I knew exactly what I’d be ordering: the pulled pork platter with a couple of their homemade sides. Not having to look at the menu gave me a good opportunity to size Bill up.

  He seemed like a nice guy. Kim was having trouble choosing between two items, so he ordered what she didn’t so she could have some. He was wearing a nice suit even if the tie was a bit uninspired. He was very attractive. And he was very much attentive to other people. He hardly talked about himself. He kept the conversation going by asking Kim and I about ourselves. He really seemed interested, too.

  “Kim tells me you’re an advertising copywriter?”

  “Yeah, I’m sort of a copywriter/PR/marketing catch-all grunt.”

  “What exactly does that mean?”

  “Means I’m overworked and underpaid.”

  “Gee, I hope you’re not having a problem making ends meet?”

  “No. No more than anybody else.”

  Kim interjected: “Rachel can squeeze a nickel into a dime. She’s one of the most frugal people I know.”

  “Hope it’s not out of necessity?

  “Nah. All my ends meet, unfortunately that includes the two ends of the candle I’m burning. The ‘overworked’ part of the equation is tougher to deal with than the ‘underpaid’ part.”

  I did get into a small argument with Bill about patriotism. He was sort of obsessed with patriotism, asking if we thought this person was patriotic or that action was unpatriotic. He seemed to think anyone who didn’t have a flag hanging from their front porch should be shot.

  I thought about Amir and how he worried his country would consider him a traitor for doing something he believed would ultimately benefit all people…but might reduce whatever power his nation held in the world at the moment. Amir was doing what would be right for his country in the long run, but from what I could tell, Bill wouldn’t consider him a patriot.

  I tried to explain to Bill that patriotism wasn’t black and white. I pointed out that the flag-burning protesters of the seventies were at least as patriotic as, say, Senator Joseph McCarthy. That if memory served me correctly, John Wilkes Booth considered himself a patriot. And that if Lincoln had been a Hitler, maybe we’d all agree with Booth…and that wouldn’t necessarily be right, either. Bill simply didn’t “get” all these shades of grey.

  I asked him if he thought the Patriot Act was, in fact, patriotic. (I personally worry about anything anyone tries to put an inspiring name to. The Patriot Act, Manifest Destiny…I think the more nasty stuff there is to hide, the more motivational the name.)

  Bill couldn’t see at all what I was getting at. He finally stuffed a sock in it when I asked him how he rationalized being so uber-patriotic with not having ever enlisted in the military.

  I felt bad arguing with Bill. But, I figured he’d get his chance to pick a fight with me if I ever started babbling about climate change. That was my obsession…and I suppose I was probably more likely to see that as a black and white issue than I should. We all have our blind spots to the shades of grey in something.

  At some point during dinner, Kim noticed my necklace and went ga-ga over it. I knew that was a big turning-point moment for me…coming up with my first huge lie. I told her I picked it up on clearance at T.J. Maxx. I said I intended to give it to my mother for Christmas, but decided that I liked it lot more than Mom would.

  Bill leaned in to take a closer look at the necklace and reached out to lift it a little from my neck. I thought possibly he could have been trying to get closer to the boobage, but his eyes didn’t seem to stray down. I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I figured maybe he was trying to be polite by showing interest.

  Bill loved snowboarding and Kim said they’d had a blast at Holiday Valley the week before. He suggested we all go on Sunday. I tried to beg off due to the aforementioned “overworked,” but they offered to go to Kissing Bridge instead. It was only a twenty minute drive, so I agreed to join them for a few hours.

  When the waitress brought our bill, Bill insisted on paying the whole tab. I figured maybe he was still worried about my finances. I protested loudly, but he insisted.

  “Hey, I invited you, so I’m picking up the tab. I’m underworked and overpaid.”

  “Really, let me chip in my share, please.” I didn’t want to be sponging off the guy the first time I met him.

  “Sorry, won’t hear of it.”

  He handed the waitress his credit card and the case was closed. So, apparently he was also very generous and perhaps even financially successful. He must have been a good tipper, too, because the waitress had a big smile on her face when she brought his card back.

  “Thank you, Mr. Braxton.”

  “Thank you. Excellent meal. Excellent service.”

  I tried not to flinch or look up, but I did distinctly hear the waitress call Bill Burton, “Mr. Braxton.” That would make the second big first for me. The necklace was my first big lie. “Mr. Braxton” was my first bout with real suspicion.

  Chapter 28

  The first thing I did when I got home was write Amir a note. I had an address where I could send him innocuous messages, as long as I assured that they could not be traced back to me.

  Amir,

  I just found your much too generous gift today. Thank you so very much. I will treasure it always.

  I understand your feelings completely. You don’t have to apologize. Sometimes #$%@ happens. This is one of those times.

  I don’t regret having bended my First Law of Love on Saturday. I had an amazing time. You’ve now set the bar way too high for the next unsuspecting gentleman to stumble into my life.

  I will always be your devoted friend. With luck, time and distance will have cooled my passion for you by the next time we’re together. (Sending a list of your faults might help, too. My top faults are: messy, constantly late, indecisive, and prone to pack on the pounds.)

  With great affection,

  R

  The message certainly wasn’t as moving as Amir’s elegant note. My everyday English seemed frivolous when compared to Amir’s eloquent, formal way of speaking and writing. But, hopefully it would lighten up the situation and he’d know it was from the heart.

  I’d mail the note from Kissing Bridge…and I’d pay cash for my lift ticket…if Bill let me pay at all.

  Of course, the question of Bill was a whole ‘nother matter. Did the waitress just slip up on his name? Who could slip up on Burton?

  I didn’t want to alarm Amir if this turned out to be nothing, but I wasn’t going to make any major moves until I got the “Bill” question straightened out. Maybe I’d get the chance to peek at his credit card on Sunday. Or maybe Kim could clear the whole si
tuation up. I wouldn’t be able to call her until tomorrow. It was going to be a long night.

  Chapter 29

  I called Kim bright and early to tell her how much I liked Bill and how sorry I was that I’d argued with him. She didn’t seem bothered by the argument. She pointed out that arguing is what I do. Constantly. She’d gotten used to it. She thought Bill would, too.

  Between skiing and all my work, the weekend flew by. But, I’d been unsuccessful in finding out if Bill Burton was really Mr. Braxton. He didn’t pull out a credit card on Sunday. And whitepages.com didn’t have an appropriate listing for William Burton or William Braxton…assuming his first name really was “Bill.”

  By Monday night, I’d had enough worrying time to start getting really paranoid. I couldn’t remember Bill getting near my purse or my coat, but I took my coat to the cleaners and gave my purse to Goodwill, carefully going over every single item that had been in it. (I used my secure computer to google listening devices on the Web. They looked like they should be easy enough to spot if you were actively looking for one.)

  My work for Amir was really keeping me busy. By Friday, I’d ordered at least one billboard in every state, though most of them wouldn’t actually be up for another six months. I had small space ads set to run in several English-speaking foreign countries. I got a post office box in yet another fictitious name and was having several different wigs delivered to it. I went to some discount stores and got XXL clothes along with a “fat suit.” If I had to venture out on official Glyphs business, I was going to be a master of disguise, guaranteeing that I’d feel like a total idiot.

  I sent Amir a Christmas card telling him I’d call him at 9 p.m. my time on Christmas day, which was at the end of the coming week. Cala had packed an entire suitcase with nothing but phones, all numbered in the order I should use them. I was still on number one. I checked it for messages each night, but there hadn’t been any. (I really didn’t expect any. After all, I’d be the one generating news, not Amir.)

  If Amir was able to answer the phone, we could talk. If not, I’d leave a message. I hoped he could answer. I needed to let him know my worries about Bill and I was sure he’d have questions. I was determined to try to have some kind of answers before that call.

  Bill and Kim and I were going to spend all day Saturday snowboarding in Ellicottville. It was over an hour’s drive, so we’d have plenty of time to talk. Maybe I’d even get a chance to peek in Bill’s glove compartment.

  The drive down was a lot of fun. Bill had a fondness for Kim’s bizarre puns. With encouragement like that, she tried even harder to come up with them. Of course, that made them all the worse. We were roaring with laughter before we’d even gotten halfway there. Even Kim was laughing. Snorting with laughter. And she didn’t seem to be self conscious about it in front of Bill.

  I could see that Bill was really good for Kim. She was happier than I’d ever known her to be. And she was changing in subtle ways. She was standing up for herself more often. Challenging other people’s opinions when she didn’t agree. Even being a little demanding now and then.

  Some of our mutual friends had commented to me that they thought Kim was getting a little pushy. I didn’t think she was getting pushy. I thought she was getting normal. Until I saw this new Kim, I didn’t realize how much the old Kim had been treated like a doormat by so many people. Maybe even me at times.

  I sure as heck hoped that Bill was for real. If his relationship with Kim was a ruse to spy on me, I didn’t know what I’d do.

  Bill seemed so enthralled with Kim, it was hard to imagine the relationship wasn’t genuine. However, he still hadn’t really kissed her, except on the cheek. That was a bit suspicious considering how much they’d been seeing each other.

  I found out on the drive that Bill was having an early Christmas Eve dinner at the Laskowski’s house before he drove home to Scranton to spend the holiday with his parents. That seemed to bode well. I mean, meeting the parents! And on Christmas Eve! What kind of spy would have the kahunas to do something like that?

  Still, when we got out of the car at the ski resort, I managed to throw my gloves at Kim’s head over some silly remark she made. They landed on the floor of the front seat. When I reached to pick them up, I knocked my elbow against the button on Bill’s glove compartment. It didn’t budge. It was locked. Who the heck locks their glove compartment?

  Then, while we were having dinner in the lodge, Bill asked Kim how her computer was running. He had optimized it for her. She said it was faster than ever.

  “Rachel, I’d be happy to optimize your computer, too. It just takes me a couple hours.”

  I said my computer was fairly new and ran great. Besides, I couldn’t possibly impose on him like that.

  “It’s not an imposition at all. I love to optimize computers. Plus, I can load on some of that software you said you’d been wanting.”

  “The professional graphics suite? I can’t afford that. I just lust after it.”

  “I’ve got copies. I can load it for free.”

  “You can load several thousand dollars worth of software on my computer? For free?”

  “I’m the man.”

  “You know what. I’m not really comfortable with that. It can’t possibly be legal.”

  “I guarantee you it is not illegal. I have promotional copies.”

  “Umm. Thanks, but no thanks. I’m not really comfortable with that.”

  “Rachel is like, the most straight laced person I know.” Kim piped in. “She won’t even let me rip her a CD.”

  Bill wasn’t going to give up on this one, though. “I don’t have to load the software if that’s the way you feel…but at least let me optimize your laptop.”

  Kim agreed. “He really can perform miracles with a computer.”

  “You know what…I will take you up on that. I don’t do much web surfing, but my mother uses my computer a lot and I know she’d love if it were a little faster.”

  If he was spying on me, I’d show him there was nothing to spy on. I’d load some of my boring personal and advertising files onto Mom’s computer and have him optimize that.

  Bill looked a little confused. “You live with your folks?”

  “No…but I’m over there all the time. With two roommates, I get more peace and quiet there than at my apartment.”

  Kim laughed. “Peace and quiet, my butt. Her mom’s a great cook.”

  On the drive home Kim and Bill made a date to have lunch on Monday. That gave me an idea. I’d do a little sleuthing on Monday.

  At first I thought I’d find out where they were having lunch and follow Bill afterward. But, the more I thought about that, the colder my feet got. There was just too much of a chance that Bill would notice me following him.

  So, I resolved to do the next best thing. The only place I could really think that Bill might be working for was the FBI. When I got to work on Monday morning, I took out my tape recorder and had one of our male college interns record himself saying “May I speak to Agent Braxton, please.” I told him it was for a radio commercial I was working on. I had the interns recording parts for radio presentations all the time.

  Just to be on the safe side, I went to the mall at lunchtime to make my call. I phoned the local FBI office and, as inconspicuously as possible, played the tape into the receiver. “May I speak to Agent Braxton?” played right on cue.

  “One moment, please.” The line rang and voicemail picked up…in Bill Burton’s voice:”This is Special Agent Bill Braxton. I’m sorry I’m currently unavailable to take your call…” I hung up before the beep for the message. It took me a few minutes to stop shaking before I could drive back to work.

  Chapter 30

  Christmas was especially nice this year. Even though I told Amir not to pay me until January (letting me put off some sticky tax stuff ‘til next year), I knew that a lot of money was going to be coming to me soon. That freed my gift spending. I couldn’t go too crazy, or it would be suspicious, but st
ill, it was nice to splurge a little… So, I went Christmas shopping a second time.

  My brother was home from college and the whole family spent Christmas Eve and Christmas Day together. It felt so comfortable and safe. We laughed. We ate too much. We played jokes on each other.

  Maybe the situation with Amir made me more appreciative of my ability to be with my family. Maybe my resolution to totally forget about everything for 24 hours did it. Whatever it was, I felt relaxed, happy and…I don’t know…peaceful.

  When I left for my apartment on Christmas night, I took a long, country drive. Satisfied that I wasn’t being followed, I parked my car, got out, walked a ways and called Amir.

  Amir answered on the first ring.

  “Merry Christmas, Rachel.”

  “Okay, now you’ve embarrassed me in the first two seconds. I wanted to research Islam, but I didn’t want to use my computer and never got to the library, so I’m just going to have to take a stab at this and say ‘Happy Ramadan’ and hope I’m close.”

  Amir chuckled and was kind, “Close enough.” (I was months off.)

  “Amir…we have a problem.” As soon as I started to say it, I started shaking.

  Amir turned very serious. “What is it? Rachel, are you all right?”

  I told him all about Bill. Every detail. And I told him I hadn’t given my notice at work, so we could shut everything down without a worry about me.

  It was a good thirty seconds before Amir answered.

  “Rachel…please to stop making that little croaking sound. This is not as serious as it might seem.”

  Amir went on to say that the FBI wasn’t going to waste a lot of investigative money on someone like me. That Bill was probably the only agent on my case. And that at the rate he was moving, he probably wasn’t all that concerned. He speculated that he may even be enjoying Kim’s company so much that he was prolonging an investigation he might normally have wrapped up.

  He advised me not to let Bill touch me, my purse, or anything he could bug. He said I should simply assume my car was bugged and never say anything sensitive in it.