There Will Be Fire

by Mark Von Kyling

  After picking up the girls, he was at a loss as to where to shop. He and the girls mulled it over as they found a spot to park in the rapidly filling up mall. Cars were everywhere. It was spring break and school was out and all the bored teenagers without extracurricular activities were now converging upon the place. It was rapidly becoming a madhouse.

  “How about JC Penny?” Talullah said. “You don’t have time to get anything tailored.” Parminter couldn’t help but notice that not only did the girl look just like her mother, she was every bit as organized. Always interested in the details and very prepared. This was a very helpful quality at the moment. He really wasn’t sure which one of them Margaret was like even though most people said that she was the spitting image of him. She was young though so she still had time to grow into her personality defining qualities.

  “That sounds good,” Parminter said and parked near the entrance for JC Penny. He was impressed. He wouldn’t have even known where to start.

  “Why are you parking here for?” Margaret said, fuming.

  “Because it’s the JC Penny entrance,” Parminter said a little perplexed.

  “No one parks here but old people,” Talullah explained. “You don’t get to walk through the rest of the mall.”

  “Why would you want to do that?” Parminter said now understanding.

  “Dad!!!” both girls exclaimed.

  “Oh, okay,” Parminter said and wheeled the Jag the half mile to the other side of the mall.

  “Besides didn’t the physical therapist say you should walk as much as possible?” Margaret said.

  * * * * *

  The dinner party that night was in one of the new luxury condos near the waterfront within walking distance of every place worth going to downtown. It was in the penthouse and had the typical high end finishes and amenities that one associates with such buildings. In other words, it was the sort of place that only housed the sorts of people who wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Howie and Ratledge were already at the dinner party with drinks in hand when Parminter arrived. He had purposefully arrived a little late so that he could be sure that this would happen. He knew just how awkward it would be for him to show up at the party and not know anyone. However, after he had arrived, he was pleased to see his planning had paid off. In addition to Howie and Ratledge, there were also quite a few other people there he knew. There was Norton from the newspaper. He had gone to college with him.

  He looked around and saw that his real estate agent, Joan Garrity, was in attendance. She was an obese and flamboyant woman who always wore gigantic glasses and even larger headwear. Unlike many large women who try as hard as possible to demphasize themselves, she seemed to go out of her way to draw attention to herself. It was like she wanted to appear even larger than she already was. Parminter liked her, but he wasn’t really sure what to make of her. While, like most real estate agents, she was extraordinarily nice, she did always seem to be working an angle on something. This wasn’t exactly a bad thing, but rather a side effect of being in a cutthroat business. Whenever he talked to her, he knew that she would eventually try to sell him something. He expected it so he was never put off.

  There were also quite a lot of other local business people there as well as a few celebrities and professional sports figures that he recognized but did not know. Parminter couldn’t help but notice how some of the celebrities made so much of an attempt to be incognito that they couldn’t help but draw more attention to themselves. They just couldn’t help themselves, he chuckled to himself.

  “John!” Joan said as she walked across the room and gave him a quick friendly hug, holding a glass of white wine out from her as not to spill it on him. “It’s so bad about Raoul. He was always such a generous man. Did you know him well?”

  “Not really,” Parminter said not even pretending. He knew it wouldn’t really matter if he did or not.

  “Really? He was such a wonderful man.”

  Parminter chitchatted with her a little while more, realizing that most of her gushing about Raoul was probably just her trying not to rock the boat. He knew that Raoul had been rather ruthless in many of his business deals and probably had screwed her over at least once but she would never say anything about it in public as it was part of the game. If you wanted to be allowed to play, you had to keep your mouth shut. She knew this and didn’t say anything but rather looked for opportunities to screw people over back. As he looked around the room he understood that this was also probably true of everyone else here there. Suddenly it dawned on him that this memorial might actually be more of a celebration that Raoul Goldman was no longer among the living than it was a tribute to his status in the community.

  But this revelation was soon interrupted when he saw Goldman’s wife. It made his sudden insight seem mean and pointless. She was obviously broken up and was having a hard time with this memorial. As she moved through the room and welcomed everyone, he could tell that this had obviously not been her idea. She looked like she was heavily medicated and was just hanging on by a thread. He felt very sorry for her. The gravity of the situation had finally sunk in for him. A man had died. He was missed. Eventually, she made her way over to him.

  “Hello, I’m so glad you were able to make it to our little memorial,” she said, extending her hand. “I’m Nicole Goldman. Raoul was my husband.”

  Up close, Parminter couldn’t help but notice just how beautiful she was. She really was a good looking woman. She was around his age, with blonde hair and a slender body, no doubt toned at the condo’s exercise facility. Either that or the workout room at the destroyed house. He had seen an article about it in the papers when the house had been completed. It was supposed to have been better equipped than any of the fitness centers around town. When he had read about it, he couldn’t help but think about Laura Croft’s home gym in Tomb Raider. He knew that it was probably nothing like hers, but the image had stuck in his head. But there was something else about her. Seeing her in person made him realize that there was something very familiar about her, but he couldn’t quite place what it was. It was probably the fact that he had seen her on TV and in the papers. He put it out of his mind and didn’t think much more about it.

  “I knew Raoul when we were kids. I’m a friend of Howie’s,” Parminter said.

  “Oh,” she murmured as if she understood the implications of this.

  Suddenly, they were interrupted by someone clinking a fork on a champagne glass. It was Morris Fox, Goldman’s second-in-command. Everyone quietened down and gave him their attention.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m so glad that you were all able to turn out for this memorial for our friend and colleague, Raoul Goldman. He was a very festive man and would have appreciated the fact that we have chosen to honor him with a memorial dinner party. He was a man who loved to entertain and always thought of community first and himself second.”

  As Fox continued, Parminter noticed that Nicole was tearing up, but she had a smile on her face, no doubt remembering all the good things about her husband. He couldn’t also help but see that some of the celebrities and sports figures were become teary-eyed at the recounting of Goldman’s many good deeds.

  Fox continued talking and expounding on all the good deeds that Goldman had performed, he began to hear a rival clinking of a champagne glass from the other side of the room. It was a skinny man in a tuxedo. He appeared to in his early thirties. If he hadn’t been so drunk, he would have looked like one of the career Bible students from the local fundamentalist, Holy Roller college. Everyone turned their attention to the sound and Fox soon stopped talking. He obviously knew the guy.

  “Is there something you would like to say, Clement?” Fox said, visibly perterbed.

  “Yes, there is,” the man said and pulled out a gun. Everybody in the room gasped. “I’ve been listening to this…this…bullshit all night and I think that it’s time that someone told the truth. Raoul Goldman was a horrible man who stole millions from my fa
mily. He lived high on the hog on our money while we were slowly going broke.”

  “C’mon you don’t want to do this, now do you?” Fox said.

  “Shut up, Morris. You knew full well what Raoul was doing. My life is over now and now you’re honoring him. Him!?” At that Clement put the gun to his head. “He stole everything and got off scot free. Now you’re making him into a saint. I just can’t let that happen.”

  “No!” Nicole exclaimed. “Somebody stop him!”

  “No, I’m going to blow my brains out right here at this dinner party. I know that there are people from the newpaper here. I want everyone to know the truth to what he’s done. I want it to be all over the news how someone killed himself at Raoul Goldman’s memorial because the bastard had stolen all of his family’s money”

  With that he closed his eyes and began to pull the trigger. However before he could do it, a hefty tuxedoed man, who had been standing behind him karate chopped his arm, easily knocking the gun from his hand. Several other men pounced on him and dragged him out of the room.

  It had happened so fast that it was over before it had begun. Nicole shook her head. She looked more disgusted than upset and Parminter didn’t blame her. Who did this guy think he was, ruining this memorial dinner party?

  He looked over at Norton who nodded back at him. Parminter knew that this would never be in the papers. Nothing that ever happened at this level ever was. Norton knew which side his bread was buttered. He may have been a newsman, but in a town this size, you had to do what you had to in order to survive. As he saw Norton quickly turn aside and start talking casually, he comprehended just how unsettling a thought like that was. The reality of a town was usually dictated by what was in the news outlets. If something never made it to light, then it was kind of like it never happened. What other things had happened that in the big scheme of things hadn’t really happened? He shuddered to think

  At first, in the aftermath of what had happened, there was some talk of cancelling the memorial, but Nicole would not have it. She was not going to let some random guy who thought that her husband had stolen his money ruin the night. The dinner party went on and respects were paid and much liquor and wine was drunk. In fact, it returned to normal almost as if it hadn’t even occurred. But it was obvious that it was still weighing heavily on everyone there.

  After dessert and people were milling around enjoying their post dinner drinks, Nicole walked over to Parminter. She was no longer crying. He was a little surprised when she took him by the arm.

  “Don’t we know each other?” she said.

  7

  Parminter met Nicole the next day for lunch at the Manse. He had been right when he had thought he had recognized her, but he was wrong about where it was from. Apparently they had gone to college together, but he couldn’t remember her. After the attempted suicide of one of her guests and forcing herself to go through with the dinner party, it was decided that that particular night was not exactly appropriate for reminiscing, so she had asked him to meet her for lunch the following day.

  He arrived early and sat down and waited. It was rather early for most of the lunch goers and he assumed that she had picked this time so as to avoid any more attention than necessary. She showed up soon thereafter.

  “I walked,” she said. “I live just over the bridge.”

  Parminter nodded.

  After she arrived and started talking, Parminter realized that they had indeed gone to the same school together. He hadn’t really known her, but he thought he remembered seeing her around. He still wasn’t completely sure, but that had to be it.

  “That was pretty weird about last night, wasn’t it?” she said as she picked up the menu.

  “Who exactly was that guy, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  Before she could answer the waitress came by and took their order. The waitress was very good as well as friendly and talkative. Before she could leave, Nicole stopped her. “You have a really great smile, you know that? It’s really made my day.”

  “Thanks. I just can’t help it. My mother always made me smile. She said that I needed to always show off my perfect teeth.”

  “Wow! That’s a good reason,” Nicole said.

  “If I smile, I just show off my fillings,” Parminter said.

  The waitress laughed and left.

  “What were you saying?” she asked.

  “That guy last night,” Parminter said. He couldn’t believe that she could be so nonchalant after what had happened the previous evening. But then he realized that she was still probably fairly medicated due to the shock of what had happened to her husband. An atomic bomb could probably go off and she wouldn’t flinch.

  “Oh, him. His name is Clement Boatman. He’s one of my husband’s clients.”

  “So what was it he was saying? That your husband lost all his family’s money?”

  They were interrupted again when the waitress brought their drinks. Nicole eagerly took a sip of her wine. Parminter poured some half and half into his coffee. It was a little early for him to drink alcohol.

  “No, actually he lost all his family’s money,” she continued. “Raoul said that one time he came in very angry that he wasn’t getting enough return on his investment and how he wanted more control of his account. Raoul tried to get him to listen to reason, but he insisted.” She then leaned in towards Parminter. “Just between you and me, Clement drinks a lot. I mean a lot. He doesn’t think straight and, once he decided to do this, there was just no persuading him otherwise.”

  “So, he lost it himself?”

  “Sort of. He wanted to approve and dictate everything that was done with his money. After a while, Raoul decided to let him. He figured that if he started losing a little he would begin to listen to reason, but then the market tanked and well...he lost everything.”

  “Oh, I see,” Parminter said taking a sip of coffee.

  “Yeah, he was so bitter about it. Still is, apparently. When you deal with the kinds of clients that my husband did, you’re going to get some crazies. Some of these people have been rich for years and some of them don’t even know why they’re rich. Raoul sometimes said that it was a shame that such dumb people should have so much money. I didn’t really understand what he was talking about until Clement.”

  The waitress then brought their food and refilled Nicole’s wine glass. Nicole had a salad while he had ordered some sort of chicken dish. Parminter took one look at the plate and knew that if he ate at this restaurant too much, he would both go broke and starve to death at the same time. However, he kept this to himself. He ordered another coffee.

  “But enough about that. Have you figured me out yet? Where we know each other from?” she said.

  “Yeah, we had some classes together, I think.” He still wasn’t sure.

  “You’re right. We worked on a communications project together. Do you remember that?”

  Suddenly it flashed back to him. Now, he remembered her. She was a cheerleader type who had been in almost every single communications class he had had. He didn’t even think they had ever even spoken. He remembered that the closest he had ever gotten to socializing with her was one time they had clinked glasses at a New Year’s Party. He had completely forgotten about that. Until now.

  “You were really smart,” she said. “But quiet. I don’t think you ever said anything.”

  “I was keeping a low profile,” he said and laughed. It was true. He had never been one of those types of people who socialized in class. He didn’t really know why. He was usually thinking about other stuff or working on something for a different project. He understood that now later in life this was not exactly the smartest thing to do as all the friends he had made in college had turned out to be completely worthless. He had always made friends with the alternative types and the oddballs. In other words, the other people who didn’t socialize in class. He had later in life found out why they were outcasts. They were either scumbags or drug addicts or considered themselve
s too cool for normal social interaction. He just couldn’t win.

  She took another sip of wine. “And you were such a cool guy. I mean, you were so mysterious. All the girls wondered what you were up to,” she said wistfully.

  Parminter took a sip of his coffee. Was she coming on to him? He figured that it was probably the medication talking.

  “I mean, I bet you had all kinds of girls all over you.”

  “I did all right,” he said. Which was the truth.

  They talked like this on through the meal. They caught up on old times. He told her about his children and divorce and living in California. She told him about how she had married a famous NASCAR driver after college and then gotten divorced because he was an alcoholic. She had subsequently lived all over the world modeling and living off her alimony. Then she had met Raoul Goldman which was perfect because he lived in the same part of the country where she had grown up. She said that she wasn’t able to have children and teared up a little as she told him that she had Raoul had seriously been thinking of adopting a child. She then quickly changed the subject and began talking about something else.

  All in all it was good conversation and when it was over, he offered to drive her to her condo. It was very close by. She took him up on his offer and got into his Jaguar. By this time she had drunk so much wine that she was beginning to stumble a little. It was probably because of a reaction to her medication he figured.

  He drove over and pulled in front of the entry way to her condo. As she got out, she reached over and kissed him on the cheek.

  “Thanks for having lunch with me. It was nice to do something other than talk about my husband’s horrible death,” she said, slurring slightly.

  Parminter nodded and thanked her for having lunch for him.