Cold Ambition

by Rachel Sharpe

  “I think he started looking for another job. When he was offered one in Boston, he jumped at the opportunity.”

  I tore off a small piece from the second donut. “So he gets stabbed and decides to quit his job?”

  Rick shook his head and sighed in frustration. “I know that doesn’t make sense. My mother, well, she has never opened up to me about any of this. This is all news to me. But yes, I, too, feel like there is a lot of information that is missing. I could tell she was holding back some when she talked to us, but I also got the feeling she was in the dark about a lot of it herself.”

  I nodded. Although I was obtaining useful information, it became more and more apparent that I needed to speak with Mrs. Michaels. It was also becoming clear that I needed to do more in-depth research than a few hearsay interviews twenty years after the fact. While I was contemplating this, I felt my cell phone vibrate. I pulled it out and realized I must have turned the volume off at some point because I had several missed alerts. There was one missed call from my mother; a text from Alicia ordering me both to call my mother and to make an appointment to have my arm examined; and a text from Heather, demanding I call her since my plane must have already landed unless I got on the wrong flight and was on my way to LA. I smiled at this last text and laughed.

  “What’s so funny?” Rick inquired. I glanced up and met his gaze.

  Putting my cell phone back in my jacket pocket, I replied, “Oh, just some texts. Nothing important. Now, was there anything else your mother said that might be relevant, in your opinion, to this case?”

  Rick sat there quietly and took a sip of soda. Finally, after a few moments, he looked up. “Well, after that Rockefeller incident, we moved to Boston. I think it was in the spring sometime—”

  “Most likely March,” I interrupted. Rick stared at me with surprise and I could tell my face was red. “I did a little research, remember?”

  “Okay, so we probably moved to Boston in March of 1989. She was really surprised by the job he accepted.”

  “Why?”

  Rick scratched his neck. “Well, she said it was pretty bland. Not something an ambitious accountant would settle for. That’s the word she used—settled. She thought it was unusual. He had spent most of his meteoric career climbing the corporate ladder and attaining staggering success. Then, suddenly, he had one bad experience in New York and decided to leave the only home he had ever known.”

  “Do you know much about the company he started to work for in Boston?”

  Rick shook his head. “No, not really. It was some kind of family-run tax firm. Nothing special. That’s why she became suspicious again when he claimed he had to take business trips to Hartford.”

  My ears perked up at this, and I met his gaze. “Business trips to Hartford? How many? When did that start?”

  “How many? I’m really not sure. She didn’t specify. I guess it started in April. Yeah, that’s right, it was in April. Her concerns of an affair were renewed when he did this.”

  “Why would that be? He was going to Hartford, not to New York.”

  Rick smiled strangely. “He said he was going to Hartford. When she went into his overnight case to pack some extra clothes for him before one of those trips, she found his train ticket which said he was going to Penn Station, not Hartford.”

  I was about to respond when one of the girls working behind the counter walked up to our table, her eyes fixated on Rick. She looked to be either a high school senior or possibly a freshman in college.

  “Uh, how is everything?” She blurted out awkwardly. He looked up at her and smiled.

  “Oh, everything is fine. Thanks.”

  “Can I get you anything?” Her tone was sounding more desperate. Rick smiled again and shook his head.

  “No, thank you, I’m all right.” He motioned to me. “Jordan, do you need anything?”

  I met the girl’s gaze and thought I caught a glimmer of jealousy flash in her eyes. It was either that or indigestion. “No, thanks, I’m good.”

  She stared at Rick longingly for a moment before she walked away slowly, looking dejected. Rick nodded toward her. “That was very nice,” he commented. “I don’t usually go to Dunkin’, but they have great service.”

  “Yes, I’m sure that everyone gets that much attention,” I muttered dryly, scanning through my notes.

  “What?”

  “Oh, nothing. Never mind. So your mother thought he was still carrying on an affair because he lied about where he was going?”

  Rick nodded and leaned forward on the table. “Listen, like I’ve said, I didn’t really know my father. I’m sure there were great temptations in his line of work. Traveling all over the world, lots of money, and I’m sure lots of women always around, but my mother never found definitive proof that he was unfaithful. Maybe I’m an idealist, but I think marriage is sacred. I refuse to believe that my father felt differently. I think there was some other reason he didn’t tell her where he was going. Maybe it was to protect her, maybe to protect us all. Maybe that’s why we moved, too.”

  “I understand what you’re saying," I smiled. "It’s nice to meet someone who has such strong morals.”

  Rick laughed. “Thanks. Jon always told me I was crazy and should have lived in the 1950s.”

  I felt a tinge of guilt at the mention of Jon’s name. Without his help, I wouldn’t have a client, and my client wouldn’t have been able to get his mother to open up and provide me with a lot of background information on the case. I need to call him, I thought.

  “So what happened after the New York trip?” I blurted out, trying to push the thought of Jon from my mind.

  “She didn’t go into specifics, but I think things went back to normal.”

  “So she never found out what that New York trip was about?” I pressed.

  “Well, I don’t think she did. She said that she found out he was going back to New York that July. On July 17.”

  My heart began to race. “Your father was planning to go back to New York two days before he was murdered?”

  Rick nodded. “She said that this was her breaking point. She confronted him about the trips.”

  I leaned forward, enthralled. “How did he respond?”

  “He adamantly denied that he was having an affair. He swore he had never been unfaithful, but he refused to tell her what he was doing in New York and why he was going there.”

  “So she left it at that?”

  “No, he didn’t get off that easily. My mother can be unrelenting sometimes.”

  “So what did she uncover?”

  Rick frowned. “Unfortunately, nothing. He swore to her that everything would be fine after that last New York trip in July. Once he made that trip, he could tell her everything. Unfortunately . . . unfortunately, he didn’t make it to that last trip.”

  We sat in silence. Outside, the snow had finally stopped but left a thick white blanket in its wake. Rick’s Mercedes was partially hidden beneath the snow. I glanced down at my notes to make sure I had everything I needed.

  “Well, I cannot begin to thank you for all the information you’ve provided me. I know it’s going to be very beneficial.”

  Rick nodded. “Anything I can do to help. I really appreciate your taking the time to investigate this case. I have a really good feeling about this. My mother, well, she’s not very optimistic, but I think it’s helped her to talk about this. I can’t imagine how difficult it was to raise me alone and never discuss my father with anyone.”

  I felt a pang of guilt. Rick had complete faith in my abilities, but he was under the impression that I was an experienced detective. I knew this was not going to be an easy case to solve, but if there were any way to solve it, I was determined to find it.

  Chapter 13

  Despite my insistence that I
could find my way home via the subway, Rick drove me back to my apartment. He promised to check with his mother about when I could meet with her to discuss the case and to look into what Hepstadt & Lower imported and exported. Since he had classes the rest of the week, he informed me that he would not be able to make it back to Boston until Friday afternoon. I thanked him several times as I pulled my luggage from the trunk of his car. Like a chivalrous knight of old, Rick jumped out of his car and tried to take it from me.

  “Please, let me get those for you.”

  I smiled. “No, that’s all right. I can make it from here.” The wind picked up speed from the east and blew my hair in my face. When I tried to balance my luggage and purse between the cast and my side in order to pull the hair from my face, I dropped both bags in the snow. The hair triumphantly blew across my face again. I groaned and pulled it out of my face once more. Rick watched me with an amused expression. I motioned to my bags in frustration. “If you want to help, please do. The universe is making a mockery of my independence right now.”

  He leaned over and grabbed both my suitcase and purse effortlessly and started walking toward the building. When he reached the door, he turned back. “Maybe the universe is just trying to save my masculinity.”

  I laughed and entered the key code to unlock the outer door. When it buzzed, and I opened it. Although I wanted to take my bags and head inside, Rick insisted on carrying them for me because of my arm. I was too tired from an exhausting week to argue, so he walked with me to my door.

  “Rick, thanks again. The ride, the information. It’s all truly been invaluable to your case.”

  I was startled when I heard a door slam. I turned and realized my angry, elderly neighbor was staring at me with a disgusted look on her face. She muttered inaudibly as she shuffled slowly toward the elevator.

  Rick looked from her to me. “I’m sorry. Did I do something?”

  I watched until she was safely inside and the elevator doors were shut. “No, you didn’t do anything. She’s just angry that I exist.”

  Rick raised an eyebrow. “I have a feeling there's a good story behind that, but it'll have to wait. I really need to go if I want to avoid traffic on the drive back. I-95 is murder at rush hour.”

  “Oh, believe me, I know.”

  He placed my luggage carefully on the ground and handed me my purse. “So, I guess I’ll call you later and definitely see you on Friday. You’ll have the contract drawn up by then, right?”

  “Contract? Oh! Right, of course, the contract. Yes, I will have the appropriate paperwork ready.”

  “Awesome. Well, I look forward to seeing you then.” He leaned forward and then paused. I offered my good hand, and he shook it. “Right. See you Friday.”

  Again, I waited until Rick was inside the elevator before I pulled out my keys and unlocked my apartment door. As soon as I stepped inside, exhaustion hit me full force. I was too tired to lug my bag inside so, instead, I kicked it across the threshold. I left the bag halfway sitting in the hallway as I locked the door and fell on the couch.

  I didn’t realize I had fallen asleep until my cell phone’s constant vibration awoke me. I pulled it out of my parka and saw that Alicia was calling. Clearing my throat, I answered the phone. “Hello?”

  “Jordan, where have you been?" She demanded. "Your flight landed hours ago and no one has heard a word from you. Mom is beside herself.”

  I rolled over and noticed that it was dark outside. “Hey, I’m sorry Alicia. I had a business meeting and then I fell asleep.”

  “A business meeting?” She repeated. “What? Never mind. Just call Mom, okay?”

  “Why can’t you tell her?”

  “Because Charlie and I are out Christmas shopping.”

  “Oh sorry.”

  “Look, Jordan, I know how I sound right now, but we were worried, okay? Not everyone is as independent as you. Please call Mom.”

  “Fine.”

  “Look, I need to go. Call Mom, and make an appointment for your arm.”

  “Okay, geez.”

  “You’ll do both?” she challenged.

  “Yeah, I’ll do both,” I snapped.

  “Okay, good. I’ll talk to you soon. We need to talk about flowers, and we still haven’t settled on a bridesmaid dress.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Okay, sounds great.”

  “Bye.”

  “Bye.” I immediately turned the volume back on as soon as I hung up the phone. I slowly sat up and stretched. According to my phone’s clock, it was six-thirty in the evening. I debated about whether or not I should go into the office to check on things since I had been out for a week, but ultimately, I decided to stay in.

  After eating a microwavable pizza, I decided to turn in for the night. I quickly changed into a T-shirt and pajama bottoms and climbed into bed. The world could wait until tomorrow. Tonight, I needed sleep.

  The next morning my ringing cell phone woke me up. I stumbled out of bed and rushed into the living room to grab it. I cringed when I realized that it was my mother was calling. Taking a deep breath, I answered, “Hello?”

  “Oh, thank God! Jordan! Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick.”

  “Didn’t Alicia tell you?”

  “Tell me what?”

  I closed my eyes. “Nothing. I’m really sorry. I had a business meeting and then I went home and fell asleep. I was really tired. I’m sorry.”

  “Well, I can understand your being tired. We had a really busy week. Oh, Sweetie, Greg stopped by yesterday asking for you. He was terribly upset when I told him you were gone. You should call him, really.”

  “Hmm,” I replied.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing. Anyway, my flight was fine. No trouble with my luggage or security.”

  “How did you get home from the airport? You didn’t take that dreadful subway, did you?”

  “Mom, there is nothing wrong with our subway system. It’s actually one of the best ones, but no, I didn’t. A friend picked me up.”

  “A friend?” There was a curious tone in her voice.

  “Well, not exactly a friend. My client picked me up.”

  “Your client? Now I’m confused. What are you talking about?”

  I walked back into my bedroom and pulled some clothes out of the closet. “Mom, it’s all right. Don’t worry about it.”

  “All right, Sweetie, if you say so. I’m just glad that your flight went well and you’re safe. Have you made an appointment for your arm yet? Alicia told me she was concerned that you wouldn’t address it.”

  “No, but I’ll make an appointment as soon as I get off the phone.”

  “Okay, good. Well, have a great day, Sweetie. Call me this weekend, and we’ll plan your trip home for Christmas.” I thought about how soon Christmas was and wondering if I had both the time and the money for another trip. “You are coming home for Christmas, right?”

  Although she meant this as a question, it came across as an order. “Of course, Mom.”

  “Wonderful. Well, I need to go. Alicia is working nights this week so we’re going to check out reception halls. Oh, this is so exciting!”

  “Yeah, that’s great, Mom.”

  “Talk to you soon. Much love.”

  “You, too, Mom.” As soon as the call ended I got dressed. I brought my luggage into the bedroom but decided not to unpack until later. Online, I found a local doctor’s office and was surprised that he was able to see me within the hour for my arm. I grabbed my parka and purse and headed out the door.

  Dr. Martin Randall’s office was eight blocks from my apartment. It took me about twenty minutes in the bitterly cold winds to make it there on foot. The doctor’s office was situated between a bookstore and a small dress shop. When I walked inside, a littl
e bell chimed, announcing my arrival. A pleasant-looking, middle-aged woman looked up from behind a desk and smiled. Unlike the first doctor’s office I stumbled into with Jon, this one provided a warm, welcoming feeling.

  “Hello. Are you Jordan James?” The woman inquired, still smiling.

  I held up my cast. “Yep.”

  “Oh my. That must have been a nasty break.” She produced a clipboard with a form attached. “If you don’t mind filling this out, I’ll let the doctor know you’re here.”

  I walked up and accepted the clipboard and a black pen and then sat down in one of the wooden chairs with red cushions pushed systematically against the wall. I had only finished half the form when a door next to the receptionist opened and a young blonde woman wearing Christmas scrubs walked out.

  “Jordan James?” She called, looking around. Beside myself, there was one elderly gentleman leaning against the wall, snoring lightly. I stood up.

  “I’m Jordan.”

  She smiled and nodded. “Follow me, please.”

  I followed her through the door and down a well-lit corridor. We passed several closed doors before she stopped at the first open door to the left and motioned for me to follow her inside, which I did. Once we were both seated, she took the clipboard and form from me.

  “I didn’t get to finish filling it out.”

  “Oh, that’s all right. You’ve given us the most important information. Now, what are you here to see Dr. Randall about?”

  I relayed the story about the break and the visit to the emergency room and how that emergency room physician instructed me to see a doctor within the next two weeks to check on how my arm was healing. She listened attentively and jotted down a few notes.

  “Well, before you see the doctor I want to make you aware that he is not an orthopedist. If you want to see one, however, there is one that we can refer you to. Dr. Randall is a general practitioner. Would you like a referral?”