Identity

by Ingrid Thoft

  “That’s frustrating,” Milloy said, kneading her flesh.

  Milloy was one of the few people Fina knew who could identify a thought or feeling and sit with it. Unlike her, he wasn’t constantly trying to banish discomfort or pain. He acknowledged it, let it play out, and moved on when the time was right. It was extremely Zen, and sometimes annoying.

  “It is frustrating,” Fina agreed.

  “You’re all set,” he said after a moment. Fina pulled the sheet around her and walked into the bedroom. She emerged a few minutes later wearing a T-shirt and sweats. The massage table was folded, leaning against the wall, and Milloy emerged from the kitchen, his hands just washed.

  “I never thanked you for yesterday,” Fina said, plopping down on the couch.

  “For?” He joined her.

  “Saving my ass.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I really appreciate it, Milloy. It wasn’t going well from my perspective.”

  “I kind of noticed.” He grinned. “I know you don’t like people fussing or worrying, but one of these days . . .”

  “Actually, I don’t mind if you fuss a little.” She adjusted her position on the couch. “Finish your thought: One of these days . . .”

  “One of these days, I won’t be around, Cristian won’t be, either, you won’t be able to reach your gun, or you’ll just be outmatched. You could end up seriously hurt.”

  “I know. The thought has occurred to me.” Fina picked at the nail polish on one of her toenails. Haley had convinced her to paint them bright orange a couple of weeks before, and now they just looked like the late stages of a skin disease.

  “And?” he asked.

  “And that’s it. I hadn’t gotten any further than the thought itself.”

  “Well, that’s something, at least.” He stretched his arms along the back of the couch. Milloy’s arms were nicely muscled. They looked like they could take care of things and people. “What’s on the menu, little lady?”

  “Hmm. Thai, Greek, Chinese, Italian, or Ben and Jerry’s?”

  “Thai sounds good.”

  They ordered and settled down to watch an episode of a show where first dates took place in unconventional locations, like night court and sunrise boot camp workouts.

  “Maybe arranged marriage isn’t such a bad idea,” Fina said, watching a couple attempt to flirt between arraignments.

  “Really? So you want Carl and Elaine to choose your spouse?”

  “Good point. I’d rather marry one of the accused,” she said, pointing at the men in orange jumpsuits.

  The doorbell rang, and Milloy answered while Fina fetched utensils and plates from the kitchen. He placed the brown bag on the coffee table and handed her a manila envelope. “The concierge asked the delivery guy to bring it up.”

  Fina looked at the envelope, her name neatly printed on the front. She tore it open and, with a hint of dread, pulled out the contents.

  Photographs. Of Haley.

  Fina sank down onto the couch, the photos hanging loosely from her hand.

  She’d lost her appetite.

  • • •

  Fina’s first instinct was to hop in her car and drive to Scotty’s, but Milloy reminded her there wasn’t much she could do at that moment. Instead, she called her brother with much trepidation.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “Eh, not so great, but that’s not why I’m calling.”

  “What’s up?”

  “So I assumed—or, more accurately, was hoping—that the guy who jumped me was also responsible for the photos of Haley.”

  “Yeah, I was hoping the same thing.”

  “Well, he’s still in jail, and I just got more photos.”

  “Dammit.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you think whoever hired him to jump you could still be sending you the pictures?”

  “Maybe. Or someone else is sending the pictures.”

  “So that means two people are after you.”

  “I don’t know. I’m doing my best to figure it out, but I think we need to get some protection for Haley.”

  “Fina, she’s gonna hate that.”

  “I know, but what else can we do?”

  “Have you talked to the cops about it?”

  “Not about the most recent photos, but I know what Cristian is going to say; he’ll tell me to file a report and do what I think is best in terms of protection.”

  “Great.”

  “Look, I’m going to make some calls and arrange for a guard.”

  “More unwanted attention; just what she needs.”

  “I know, but she doesn’t have a choice. I’ll hire a woman, someone who won’t be too conspicuous.”

  “There are female bodyguards?”

  “Of course there are female bodyguards. I have a contact who worked a detail for the royal family of Saudi Arabia. They don’t want Western men guarding their women.”

  “Somehow that doesn’t make me feel better.”

  “Can you or Patty talk to the school? I don’t think the guard needs to be in the classroom with her, just on the premises.”

  “I’ll talk to them. This has to stop.”

  “I know.”

  “Does Dad know?”

  “No, I’ll call him.”

  “Do it now. He’s probably tired and has had some wine. He’ll be mellower.”

  “He hasn’t been mellow a day in his life.”

  “Well, it’s better than him being energized, which he will be after his workout tomorrow morning.”

  “Good point. I’ll be in touch.”

  Fina hung up and looked at Milloy. He’d cleaned up the takeout leftovers while she’d been on the phone.

  “Here,” he said, handing her a bar of Swiss milk chocolate. “I found it in the cabinet. You need to eat something.”

  “Thanks.” Fina opened the package and peeled back the foil. She broke off a square and put it in her mouth. “You don’t need to stay, you know. I have to call my dad and Cristian. I don’t think I’m going to be very good company.”

  “Is it safe for you to be on your own? I know the photos show Haley, but the threat is directed at you, too.”

  “I’m not that worried about my safety. I have good locks and a gun.”

  “I don’t mind staying.” Milloy flopped down on the sofa and switched the TV to a baseball game. He turned the volume down low as Fina picked up her phone, walking over to the expanse of windows that overlooked the harbor. The runway lights at Logan twinkled in the dark, and the outline of a tanker was visible on the water.

  First, Fina left a message for Cristian, making no attempt to hide her distress at the situation and her inability to reach him. Then she called Dennis Kozlowski, a PI with whom she occasionally worked who was plugged in to the investigative community in the city. He promised to send a man over to Scotty’s right away who would be replaced by a woman in time for school the next morning. Twenty-four-hour protection carried a high price tag, yet another incentive to get things resolved quickly.

  Carl answered the phone after two rings.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “I just wanted to let you know that I’ve hired some temporary protection for Haley.”

  “Why?” he asked sharply.

  “Because there’s been a threat to her safety. I thought it was handled, but it’s not, and we need to take care of it.”

  “We? You want me to pay for this?”

  “Yes, you. First of all because the threat is a direct result of the Reardon case, and second of all, because you’re her grandfather.”

  Carl didn’t answer.

  “Dad? Are you still there?” A faint cheer erupted from the screen behind her. “It’s just temporary. I’ll have this t
hing wrapped up soon.”

  “You still think that you’re better for her than her father?”

  Fina gaped. Blood rushed to her head, and she blinked back tears of anger. “Are you fucking kidding me? I’m trying to keep her safe!”

  Milloy looked up from his place on the couch.

  “She wouldn’t be in danger if not for you!” Carl yelled.

  “This is not my fault! Sometimes our work is dangerous!”

  “So now it’s our work? Now you’re all about the family?”

  Fina leaned her head against the cool glass of the window and took the phone away from her ear. She could hear Carl still yelling. She depressed the end button and disconnected the call.

  “Did you just hang up on Carl?” Milloy asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Wow,” Milloy said softly.

  Fina walked over to the couch and lay down, her feet in Milloy’s lap. She closed her eyes and tried to think of nothing but the balls and strikes being counted on the TV.

  The next morning, Fina woke up pissed.

  She was far from perfect, but every day she tried to work in her family’s best interests, particularly those of the youngest family members. For her father to suggest otherwise was untrue and just plain mean.

  But instead of avoiding Ludlow and Associates, which was her first instinct, she decided to enter the lion’s den. In her experience, the best way to deal with a bully was to stand up to him, even if—especially if—the prospect of doing so was unnerving.

  She gave herself a quick sponge bath, threw on jeans, a light sweater, and ankle boots, and downed half a fluffernutter and a pain pill. Fina gripped her gun and strode down to her car, itching for a fight.

  At the office, Carl’s door was ajar, and Fina pushed through it, much to the consternation of his assistant.

  Carl was on the phone and glared at her. She sat down in a chair in front of his desk and glared back until he cut the conversation short.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “Don’t ever compare me to Rand again.”

  “Or else?”

  Fina stared at him.

  He studied her. After a moment, he spoke. “You need to calm down.”

  “Maybe, but you need to stop antagonizing me.”

  They looked at each other.

  Finally, Carl broke the impasse. “This is a waste of time. Let’s move on.”

  It was what Fina wanted, but it also irked her. She knew the error was her own; she always rose to the bait that Carl reeled out before her. She got worked up, and then deflated when he was done with the exercise. It was all about control, and Fina realized that, once again, Carl had way too much influence over her. She could have ignored his harsh words the night before, gotten a good night’s sleep, and been on her merry way. Instead, her father had taken up prime real estate in her head for the last twelve hours.

  “Let’s.” Fina stood and left the office.

  She spotted a familiar face when she walked by one of the small conference rooms.

  “Hi, Renata. I’m surprised to see you here,” she said, popping her head into the room.

  Renata looked up from the document she was reading. “Hello, Fina. I have a meeting with an associate to discuss my case against Heritage.”

  “So you’re going ahead with it?” Fina came into the room and leaned her butt against the table.

  “I’m seriously considering it.”

  Fina nodded. “How are the girls?”

  “They’re fine. Busy. I’ll be relieved when this murder is solved.”

  That was ironic, coming from the original pot stirrer.

  “So will I,” Fina said.

  Renata’s phone beeped. She looked at the screen and shook her head.

  “Something wrong?”

  “I’m fighting with our health insurance, trying to get an appointment with a new allergist for Alexa. I hate insurance companies.”

  “You and my father both. Good luck with that.” She left Renata tapping furiously on her phone and bumped into Matthew on the way out.

  “Do you have a sec?” he asked.

  “Sure. What’s going on?” She followed him down the hallway to Scotty’s office, where he was gabbing on the phone, his feet propped on the desk. Matthew walked over to the Magic Genie pinball machine and pulled back on the plunger, releasing a ball into play. Fina watched as the ball ricocheted around the bright-pink-and-turquoise playfield and celebrated bonus points with flashing lights. The sound had been muted on the machine—it was a place of business, after all—and Matthew swore under his breath thirty seconds later when the ball slipped through the flippers.

  “Guys,” Fina said, tapping her watch.

  Scotty wrapped up his call, and her brothers glanced at her nervously.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Rand’s coming back,” Scotty said, and cracked his knuckles.

  “When?”

  “I don’t know the details,” Scotty said.

  Fina folded her arms across her chest. “And you two are in favor of this?” She glared at them.

  “No, of course not,” Scotty said. “But what can we do about it?”

  “Something,” she insisted. “We have do something.”

  “I’m staying out of it,” Matthew said, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender.

  “You don’t get to stay out of it,” Fina said. “That’s not an option.”

  Matthew shrugged.

  Fina could feel the blood creeping up her neck. “No, seriously. It’s not an option.”

  “What are you suggesting, Fina?” asked Scotty.

  She moved her hands to her hips. “That he be banned from the family.”

  “How would we even do that? And what about Mom and Dad? There has to be another way, some way to keep the peace.”

  “Do you think Haley has much peace when he’s around?” Her brothers were silent. “Please, support me on this.” They didn’t protest, which Fina decided to accept as tacit agreement. She walked to the door and turned to look at them. “Our family may be more fucked up than most, and you can feel bad about that, but don’t let your sadness cloud your judgment. The next generation is counting on us not to fuck things up even more.”

  Fina fumed in the elevator down to the garage. All you had to do was pick up the paper or turn on the news to find examples of collective denial and the destruction it wrought, but she couldn’t stomach it when it came to her own family. Sure, it was heart-wrenching to admit that your sibling was a monster, but it was even more terrifying to pretend otherwise.

  • • •

  Heritage Cryobank’s Miracle Ball was unquestionably Walter’s favorite event of the year. Although the children themselves didn’t attend, their grateful parents did and spent much of the evening lavishing him with praise. The staff created an elaborate photo display of the cryokids, and the event gave their clients an opportunity to interact with one another. When they’d first started the ball twenty years before, attendance had been small; people weren’t yet comfortable associating themselves with a cryobank, but that had changed. It was no longer a source of shame or embarrassment. The bank partnered with a local children’s charity, thereby raising their standing in the community. And who didn’t like the chance to dress up in fancy clothes and get a night off from their kids?

  “It doesn’t make sense, Walter.”

  “I don’t understand what you’re saying, Ellen.” He sipped his cappuccino and looked at her.

  Ellen took a deep breath, presumably to tamp down her irritation. Good. Walter was glad that he got to her.

  “The Miracle Ball doesn’t fit with our mission. We don’t make any real money from it, the charity doesn’t make much, and frankly, I think it’s weird.”

  Walter put down his mug and leaned over
his desk. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Reproduction and conception are supposed to be private matters. I think it’s weird to throw ourselves a party and invite the press. It’s very self-congratulatory.”

  “It’s a celebration of the families we’ve created. I’m stunned that you find fault with that.”

  Ellen crossed her legs. She looked tan, as if she’d recently returned from a tropical isle. “There are others who share my concerns.”

  “Really? Who are these ‘others’?”

  “Other members of management.”

  “Well, they should bring me those concerns directly.”

  “You don’t generally welcome dissent.”

  Walter threw his hands up. “I have an open-door policy, Ellen. You know that.”

  “I do.” But not an open-mind policy, she thought.

  “I know you want to put your stamp on the bank, and I appreciate your enthusiasm, but we won’t be making any changes to the ball. Not this year.” He picked up a pen and began to write.

  “Not this year. Okay.” Ellen stood and left his office.

  • • •

  After Fina left her brothers, some questions occurred to her that required immediate attention. She circled the streets near Renata’s office and finally wedged her car into a too-tight space. Just like on her last visit, there was a small gaggle of men loitering by the front door. They were laughing and gabbing, but parted like the Red Sea when Fina approached.

  The same stringy-haired young woman was manning the front desk. She held up an elaborately decorated talon to Fina as she wrapped up a call on her cell phone.

  “Did you turn it off and then on again?” she asked, rolling her eyes at Fina. “Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Dad, I’ve gotta go. I’ll stop by tonight and see if I can fix it.”

  Fina smiled. The younger generation used to help their parents in the fields; now their job was to troubleshoot their electronics for them.

  “So it just came back on?” she said. “What did you press?” Fina could hear animated chatter on the other end. “Dad, I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”

  She ended the call and looked at Fina. “Sorry about that. My father is lost without his Ellen. How can I help?”

  “I’m here to see Renata.” Fina handed over her ID.