by Nick James
“Oh, fantastic meal,” he said folding the linen napkin on the counter and pushing his empty dessert plate an inch or two away.
“Really, did you like it?”
“More than liked, it was absolutely fantastic? Where’d you learn to cook?”
“Oh, I don’t know, my mom was always pretty adept in the kitchen. I guess Lizzy and I just grew up with it, as far as we knew everyone’s home was like that. I’ve taken a couple of cooking classes, just for fun. Did a Valentine’s menu, a couple of Italian classes, a Chinese one last year that was really great. I’m signed up for a Christmas cookie class next month. It’s just something I like to do, when I can fit it in.”
“You know, I’m not sure you ever told me what you do?”
“Nothing exciting like you, defending dangerous criminals all day.”
“Hardly. Believe me, I’m the most boring guy in town. What is it, you do?” he asked again then sat there and waited for a painfully long time before she broke the silence.
“I’m more or less self employed, freelance I guess you could say.”
“Are you a writer?”
“No my real forte is online issues, ID images and awareness, sort of marketing,” she smiled.
“So you take pictures?”
“Sometimes, nothing that dramatic, more private images. Then I figure out how to get it in front of people who really don’t want to see the image in the first place, you know what they say, a picture is worth a thousand words. Hey, what do you say we leave these dishes for a bit and head upstairs to the den?”
“The room with the fireplace?”
“Yes and don’t you dare mention my most recent miserable performance,” she laughed.
“Sure I can’t help you with these dishes?”
“Leave them, come on. We can sit by the fire and I promise to behave, at least for a while.”.
Chapter Forty-One
They had been sitting in the upstairs den in front of a fire for the better part of two hours. True to her word, Emily had barely touched her second glass. On the other hand, Bobby had lost count, but only because she had never let his glass go empty. He did note that there was about a half inch left in the current bottle and he’d drank almost all of it not to mention the one before.
“You miss your ex-wife?” Emily asked out of the blue.
“Frances? Not on your life,” he said then quickly recovered. “I’m genuinely sorry that she and her husband died the way she did. I feel bad that it happened to her, or that it would happen to anyone, I mean it’s tragic. But, I don’t miss her as a person. In the end she wasn’t very good for me, some might call it abusive. I really only saw her maybe three times in the last five years and then only because she came to me and needed help.”
“So even though she treated you poorly you still tried to help her?”
“Well, lets just say I tried, there’s a difference between trying and succeeding.”
“What did she need? If you don’t mind me asking. You don’t have to answer.”
“That’s okay,” Bobby said shaking his head. “Actually, it was her husband, his business needed a cash injection. I was in contact with some investors, he didn’t want to do what they asked for and he didn’t get the cash, at least not from them,” he said then suddenly remembered Montcreff had informed him that the infamous ‘Order from China’ was being fulfilled.
“But you tried to help her, even after she wasn’t very nice, that’s so sweet.”
“Yeah, that’s me, just a nice, sweet guy. What about you? Ever marry?”
“Me?” she took a large sip of wine, probably more than she’d consumed in the past hour. “You are looking at the classic girl left standing at the alter,” she said and took another large gulp of wine.
“Seriously?”
“Yup, literally. All dressed up and no where to go as they say,” she gave a shrug that was anything but convincing. The pain still very evident.
“When was this, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“I don’t mind,” she said and drained her glass. She looked like she might reach for the bottle then sat back in her chair and tightly crossed her arms so they wouldn’t be tempted. “September fourteenth, two-thousand-and-eleven,” she said. She stared off into the distance, but Bobby was pretty sure whatever she saw was in her mind. “My one special day. Two-hundred-and-fifty-seven guests, all dressed up, everyone sitting in church waiting for me to walk down the aisle. Family, relatives, friends, people my mom and dad did business with. Only there was just one little problem, there was no one to meet me at the altar.”
“He left,” she said focusing in on Bobby. “Said he wasn’t sure, didn’t want to make a mistake and so, the son-of-a-bitch just left me standing there in my designer wedding dress looking like the original fool. I found out later he’d been seeing some other bitch, two timing me with that slut for at least a year, probably longer.”
“God, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it up. Are you okay?”
Her eyes were watering and her face looked flushed. Her voice trembled as she spoke.“Me? Yeah, I’m just fine, believe me I’m over it. He called me about six months later, said he was sorry, wanted to get back together, turned out he just wanted a one night stand. Well, anyway, guess that’s just life, isn’t it?” she said getting up out of her chair. She walked over to the fireplace, hit a switch and the gas flame quickly disappeared.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know, Emily. If I had, I never would have brought it up. I’m really sorry.”
“Forget it, it’s no big deal. Hey, come on, I need to get fucked,” she said and walked out of the room.
She became the most aggressive woman he’d ever been with and she didn’t let up for over an hour. More than once he had to fend her off because she was actually hurting him. Eventually she just rolled over, said “Good night,” and that was the end of that.
It was sometime in the middle of the night, Bobby woke to a slight shaking in bed. Emily was lying on her side with her back to him, sobbing softly, crying in her sleep. He put his arm around her, stroked her hair and said, “Shhh, shhh,” a number of times before she eventually settled down. After five or ten minutes her breathing seemed to return to something close to normal. He remained awake for another hour, thinking about her list of names. Maybe money wasn’t her only incentive. Maybe she was more like him than he ever realized.
He heard her in the bathroom the next morning, the digital clock on her makeup table said 6:10. He had a headache and his teeth felt fuzzy. A while later Emily quietly entered the room with a white bath towel wrapped around her. She slowly opened her top drawer, careful not to make any noise and stepped into a thong, snapping the elastic waistband with her thumbs. Then she pulled on a black bra, hooked it in the back and quietly pulled open another drawer.
“Don’t worry, I’m already awake?”
“Jesus,” she jumped. “How long have you been lying there awake. God, you scared the piss out of me.”
“Just a few minutes, not long at all.”
“You want to grab a shower or do you want to get dressed and just run for your life from Miss Crazy?”
“I think I might grab a quick shower, if that’s okay.”
She flashed a large grin, “Could you use some breakfast?”
“If you’re making it, coffee, black.”
“I remember that part,” she said. “Take your time, clean towels in the bathroom closet. Toothbrushes in the drawer on the far left.”
“Give me a few minutes to get presentable and I’ll be down.”
“Hey, take your time and Bobby, thanks for last night.”
“Sorry, I couldn’t keep up, I think you could have gone all night and I…”
“I don’t mean that. I meant later, you know, I was sort of not at my best. Every time I think I’m past it I never seem to miss the opportunity to disappoint myself. To tell the truth I’d like to kill the bastard. I actually fantasize about it.”
�
��Well, sometimes when we’ve had something like that happen it’s best to channel the negative energy into something positive and use it as an incentive to accomplish. Look at all you’ve done here without that loser in the way,” Bobby said and motioned with his hands to encompass more than just her bedroom.
“Or because of him. I just want to be done with the whole dreadful mess, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to get it behind me. He called me a couple of times, just to meet he said. Turned out the asshole just wanted a piece of ass and I was the first one stupid enough to answer the phone.”
“Did you report him or…”
“Yeah, there you go, I suppose I could call the cops, tell them I let this guy screw my brains out in the back seat of his car and now he won’t stop calling me.”
“Well…”
“Bastard sent me a birthday message on Facebook so I blocked him. Once in a while I come home and there’s a bottle of Grey Goose vodka placed in my door.”
“Vodka?”
She gave a quick scoff and rolled her eyes. “A getaway weekend where we got a little crazy. Never a note or anything, but it’s clearly from him. No one else knows, well except for the thousand guys he’s probably told the story to. I poured the first bottle down the sink. The last one, I didn’t even open it, just gave it to the neighbor lady, but I still know it was him, that he was here and it just creeps me out.”
“What the hell is this guy’s name?”
“Kemper, Denis Kemper. Denis with only one n, always said it was spelled just like penis, but with a D. In fact that was the line he used when he sort of introduced himself to me.”
“Sounds like he’s stalking you?”
“Nothing I could ever really prove, anyway enough about that jerk,” she said then came around the bed, gave him a quick kiss. She headed out of the room, grabbing her denim skirt off a chair as she left the room. “Breakfast in twenty minutes,” she called as she marched down the hallway.
Chapter Forty-Two
The smell from the kitchen was wonderful, coffee and bacon for sure, but something else, too. Then Bobby remembered she’d mentioned pancakes.
“Perfect timing,” she said turning from the stove to face him. The blue jean skirt she’d taken from the chair in her room was draped over the back of one of the kitchen stools with her black bra neatly folded on top. She was wearing a silky blue thong and a white apron where he could still see the fold marks. It looked like it was starched and had just come from the dry cleaners.
“You look beautiful. Do all your breakfast guests get this special treatment?”
“The ones that count,” she said and turned back to the stove. She deftly flipped two golden brown pancakes onto a larger stack sitting on a plate next to the stove. She turned the burner off, set the pancakes in front of Bobby and said, “Help yourself.” Then she opened the oven, pulled out a platter of crispy bacon and set it on the counter next to the pancakes. She filled the coffee mug in front of Bobby, set the pot back in the coffee maker and looked at him. “Anything else before I sit down?”
“This is fantastic, no, no you’ve done way more than enough.”
“Good, ‘cause I’m starving,” she said then reached back, loosened the apron string behind her back and pulled the apron off exposing herself. “You okay with me being like this? I’m roasting.”
“I may have trouble concentrating on the food.”
“I can deal with that,” she said then gave him a peck on the cheek as she walked past and pulled out the stool next to him.
Despite the obvious distractions he ate two helpings of pancakes and three helpings of bacon. They sat at the kitchen counter, talked over a couple more cups of coffee before walking into the living room and making love on the rug.
Chapter Forty-Three
By the time he got to the office it was almost eleven. “Oh, Mr. Custer,” Marci said almost before he took his first step off the elevator. “Mr. Hinz would like to see you, he’s in his office. And then a message,” she said waving a pink slip and suddenly speaking into her head phone. “Good morning, Denton, Allan, Sawyer and Hinz, how may I help you?” She flashed her shark smile and nodded at Bobby as he took the message and headed back to his office.
He stopped in mid-stride half-way to his office and read the hand written note. ‘Please call Agent Mark Jackson, Federal Bureau of Investigation,’ a phone number was written below that, the extension didn’t appear to be the same as Drake’s number. “Shit,” he said half out loud.
Bennett Hinz called to him from his doorway just as he was about to enter his office, “Custer, can you spare a minute?”
He stuffed the pink slip in his pocket and hurried over to Bennett’s office. “Did you get my messages from yesterday. I’ve got an update on Mr. Denton. In fact I’ve just come from there,” he said figuring Bennett would never check.
“This doesn’t sound good,” Bennett sighed, then waddled around his desk and settled into his black leather chair with a groan. “Oh, God, well let’s get it over with, give me the news?”
“I was there early yesterday morning and then met with one of the specialists after the noon hour, a gentleman named Dr. Antonnini,” he said actually telling the truth for a change. No point in going into detail, he’d checked in yesterday morning in the hope Denton’s condition had worsened and as far as meeting with Antonnini, that was just lining up a future business opportunity.
“So, what’s his status?” Bennett asked almost sounding depressed. He drummed his fingers along the edge of his desk and Bobby guessed at this stage he was probably cutting into Bennett’s three hour lunch and sauna break.
“The status, well he had a fall the night before last…”
“You’re kidding, another one?” Bennett said and suddenly sat up in his chair paying rapt attention.
“I’m afraid so. Apparently he attempted to get out of bed in the middle of the night. Not sure why, maybe he was delirious, sleep walking or just needed to use the bathroom. Anyway, it didn’t really work out too well. He fell, hit his head, his forehead actually, he has a nasty looking bruise on the right side. And, unfortunately he damaged the hip area where they’d just done surgery after his previous fall.”
“Oh, Christ.”
“I’m not sure at this point if even Christ could help,” Bobby joked.
“What did the doctor say?”
“Nothing very positive. In fact, they’ve moved him into a round the clock care area, up on their sixth floor. He’ll be there for at least a month, maybe longer. When I checked on Mr. Denton he was on IV’s I’m guessing he’s medicated. The nurses asked me to stay just a few minutes, which I did.”
“Any word from Noah’s wife?”
“Mrs. Denton, I spoke with her yesterday. She mentioned she hasn’t been in to see her husband because it just seemed to upset him.”
“Who wouldn’t be upset waking up to that woman,” Bennett said and drummed an index finger on his desk for a long moment, apparently deep in thought. “All right, thank you for the update. It’s past time we moved forward on this end of things.”
“On another note,” Bennett said leaning forward and lowering his voice. “FYI, we just may have two individuals rejoining the firm, Jerry Downs and Chuck Larson. Apparently the acquisition team discovered there’s maybe a little bit more to running a firm than just stealing clients. But keep it under your hat for now, we may be able to lure another one or two back,” he said then sat back in his chair looking very satisfied.
“Did they have a lot of clients jumping ship?”
“I’m not sure about that, although under the circumstances it wouldn’t surprise me. They’ve certainly had a string of bad luck. The unfortunate incident with the Saunders woman right off the bat. Then, I find this hard to believe, but apparently Angie Benedict and Nate Anderson ran off somewhere. The whole thing has turned out to be a real mess, which just makes us look all the better. Might also help stabilize the situation around here, just in case any
one else comes up with some sort of crazy idea.”
For just a moment Bobby wanted to tell Bennett he knew Angie and Nate were up near a cabin in the north woods, but instead he just smiled to himself.
“You look like the cat that ate the canary,” Bennett suddenly joked.
“Not wishing anyone bad luck, but it’s nice to hear things aren’t working out very well for the acquisition folks.”
“Like I said, keep it under your hat, at least for now. And I don’t want you worrying, you’ll be able to keep that office.”
That brought a genuine smile to Bobby’s face. “Anything new on the Saunders family lawsuit?”
“Not really, other than it seems to be going nowhere. We get a couple of these turds back in the same toilet with us and it’ll help pull the rug right out from underneath their, ‘dangerous and unfit work environment’.”
“It’s all sounding good,” Bobby said.
“Well, it’s certainly beginning to sound better. Now, if you’ll excuse me I’m afraid I’ve got a noon meeting,” Bennett said and stood up from behind his desk.
“Thanks for bringing me up to speed,” Bobby said and hurried back to his office. He pulled the phone message out of his pocket, closed the door, loosened his tie then sat down and phoned Agent Mark Jackson. The phone rang four or five times before a no nonsense voice answered, “Jackson.”
“Agent Jackson, I’m returning a call you left for me. My name is Bobby Custer.”