Trust Me

by Richard Z. Santos

  “Everyone’s a hair away from corruption at all times. There’s a way of doing politics, of governing—same thing—that happens everywhere. Everyone thinks their race, their candidate, their policy initiative is more important than anything else. You fall in love. How could you not? You spend seventy, eighty hours a week working with the same people for the same candidate, and you lose focus.”

  “Your perspective changes,” Lou said.

  Charles nodded. Lou seemed to understand better than Jordan.

  “I couldn’t imagine getting like that,” Jordan said.

  “Yeah? Like being chief of staff and running a political campaign at the same time? But that’s okay because she had two cell phones.”

  The oven timer went off. Lou took a deep breath. Charles gave everyone more booze and pulled the food out. Enchiladas and mashed potatoes: a combination that seemed obviously wrong, now that it was all oozing towards each other on the middle of the plate.

  Charles found a radio station that played a mix of country and horn-heavy Spanish songs. The music cleared the air a bit, but everyone ate in silence, until Lou took one for the team.

  “So,” he said between bites, “what do you think the Apaches really want?”

  “Money,” Charles said. “Like everyone, right?”

  “You sound like Mr. Branch.”

  “Parts of their story might be true,” Jordan said. “Tribes were erased from history.”

  “Even if their story is completely true, and even if Geronimo actually asked these guys to bury him on site, they’ll still want money. They’ll still want a casino off the highway.”

  “Baiting the press with the story about Geronimo was so smart,” Jordan said.

  “You’ve got to be careful. You’re going to start admiring some less than savory behavior.”

  Jordan set her fork down next to her plate. “Look, I’m not some kid.”

  Lou placed his hand on her lower back.

  “No,” she said, shaking off his hand. “It’s true. Being from DC doesn’t make him smarter than everyone else. I know Mr. Branch is a greedy slime ball. And I know that Diana would kneecap anyone in her way, probably me included, but we don’t need to celebrate it and we can help San Miguel build some fucking schools.”

  Charles looked down at his plate. “And the mashed potatoes were cold.”

  Lou laughed and immediately raised a hand over his mouth, but it was too late.

  Jordan looked at him and rolled her eyes. “They were really gross mashed potatoes.”

  Charles laughed. “I saw a friend the other day and didn’t recognize him. People change on the road and don’t even realize it, so thank you for being honest. My marriage is falling apart and my career is probably over, and that’s why I’m going to open another bottle of wine.”

  “Now that’s a toast,” Lou said.

  Jordan finally relaxed. Charles was glad Jordan had called him out. It was probably long overdue.

  Then, someone knocked on the front door. Two long knocks and two short ones, which somehow sounded very intimate. Charles’ guts turned to lead.

  “Maybe it’s for me,” Lou joked. “Probably Mallon coming to drag my ass somewhere.”

  Charles walked to the door, then turned around and yelled back to Jordan and Lou, “It’s probably a mistake. I hardly know anyone out here.”

  He waited another second with his hand on the doorknob, willing her not to be there.

  But, there she was. Olivia Branch held a bottle of wine and cracked a smile that snapped into something formal and inquisitive, but not fast enough.

  Charles told himself he would make this work. He could spin anything.

  “Come in, come in. Glad you got my invite. Sorry your husband couldn’t make it.”

  “Yes. Yes, of course,” Olivia said. “We really wanted to check in, make sure you were finding everything satisfactory.”

  Lou’s head was down, as if he was the one who should be embarrassed, and Jordan’s mouth was gaping. Olivia walked into the kitchen with Charles a step behind.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Olivia smiled.

  Her presence altered everything in the room; the colors intensified, the temperature rose, the weight of the air increased, and if Charles had been offered a cyanide pill just then, he might have taken it.

  “Everyone knows each other?” Charles asked.

  “Sorry you missed dinner,” Jordan said. “It was very good. But we’re about to head out. We . . . we . . .”

  “I’ve got an early day,” Lou said.

  Jordan kept staring, but Lou just looked at the ground. As they walked out of the house, Jordan nodded at Charles while Lou shook his hand and smirked.

  After shutting the door, Charles kept his hand on the knob and rested his forehead against the cold glass panel. Maybe if he were quiet enough, he would wake up on Capitol Hill with a wife and a ghost of a career. Then he heard Olivia pouring what sounded like a big glass of wine.

  “Well,” she said, “think they bought it?”

  He turned around and leaned against the door. “This isn’t funny.”

  “No, I suppose not.” She sat down where Jordan had been and pushed the plate away. “What is this stuff?”

  “You saw their cars out there.”

  “It’s a cul-de-sac; they didn’t park in front of the house. How was I supposed to know you’d make friends?” Olivia leaned her forearms on the island, she already seemed tired of the crisis. “Lou won’t say anything. It’s their job to keep secrets.”

  “Jordan wants my job.”

  “Fine, fine, this is a disaster.” Olivia jumped up to sit on the marble countertop of the island and let her legs dangle. “You may need to kill her.”

  Charles positioned himself out of arm’s reach. “Jordan will say something to Salazar. Lou spends a lot of time with Mallon.”

  “He spends enough time with Mallon to not want to have to deal with it.” Olivia’s smile reached out and pulled him closer. “And what can you do about it now?”

  Charles’ phone vibrated on the kitchen counter. He knew it was Addie. Olivia glanced towards the phone.

  “You can get it,” she said. “You probably should.”

  “No, I should not. She’s going to be here next week.”

  “Good, show her the sights. Wait, was I supposed to get jealous? You’re not leaving her. Or if you are, you’re not doing it for me.”

  “You’re leaving your husband.”

  “I’m not starting a trend. I’m leaving because there’re things I need to do and I’m sick of his paranoia.”

  “Why is it so bad? Is he . . . dangerous?”

  Olivia smiled. “You’re oh so concerned. No, he’s not dangerous. Not yet. He was great when I met him. You don’t believe that, but it’s true. Exciting, full of life. Having all his dreams come true seems to have broken something in him.”

  Charles turned his back to her and kept his hands busy with dishes and forks. “I could use this job to make some money, maybe get a new gig related to the airport. My friend Thompson indicated I could do pretty well. Maybe I stay.”

  “No.”

  Charles turned around. “No? You bring me out here, then you tell me to go home?”

  “Look, I’m glad you’re in Santa Fe. We can both benefit from you working for my husband, but pocket what you can and go back to your wife. Maybe do some things for me along the way.”

  “No one in Washington wants me.”

  Olivia jumped down from the island and slipped back into her shoes. “I bet your wife does. I shouldn’t have come back over here again.”

  “Wait, wait, wait!”

  Charles put out his hands to stop her, but she slapped them away.

  “Do not do that.”

  He took a step back. “I’m saying I may be here longer than I initially thought, that’s all. Your husband is doing some big things that could result in some real money, and I cannot afford to walk away. I’m not saying we’re going to get r
emarried.”

  “Remarried? Are you crazy?”

  Olivia grabbed her wine glass and walked into the living room. Charles wanted to trail after her like a puppy but restrained himself.

  “You’re too excited,” she said. “There’s something else going on. Neither of you could possibly care this much about an airport.”

  Charles met her eyes, then turned around and grabbed some more plates.

  Her eyebrows went up and her voice rose with excitement. “Wait, wait . . . you found something. Look at you, little researcher. What’d you learn?”

  Charles held his breath for a second, excited to share his secret, wanting her to be impressed, like it was the diamond ring he never bought her back in Chicago. “He’s going to build most of the airport, then help fund a casino he’ll run with San Miguel. Or the Apaches or whichever tribe shows up next.”

  Olivia’s surprise looked genuine.

  “Now that’s devious,” she said. “He’s using the state and county money to get a head start on the project.”

  “People will fly in, gamble, fly out. Maybe never even leave that stretch of highway.”

  “The only way for a non-Native person to get some gaming money is to pay for something else. Do you have proof? A document or anything?”

  Charles shook his head. “He told me, but I doubt there’s anything in writing. He and Salazar are way too clever for that.”

  “There’s got to be something.”

  The greedy look in her eyes made Charles nervous. “Olivia, if you want to leave him, then leave him. Find a lawyer. Hell, I met one the other day. Your husband hates him.”

  “You know he won’t let me leave with a dime unless I have something that makes him nervous.”

  Charles put a hand over his mouth. “You got me this job so I could help you blackmail your husband.”

  “No, do not say that. I’m looking for a way out, and you can help me. There’s nothing wrong with leaving on my own terms.”

  “You mean with money.”

  Charles put a hand on his forehead, then slid it to the side of his face. He wanted to slap some sanity back into himself.

  She walked up behind him and whispered. “I will leave with dignity, with a life. I can use his cash for something good.”

  “You want it all.” It came out more bitter than he had intended. “You want the money and the freedom. Branch’s money conveniently without being attached to Branch.”

  She stepped closer. “I’m not being unreasonable. People are depending on me.” She put her hands on his waist. “And you need to protect yourself.”

  Charles stepped away from her. He dumped plates into the sink, liking the clattering noise and hoping something would break.

  “I’m fine,” he said. “I’m on the inside. I can sell you out to your husband and he’ll give me a raise.”

  “He will have Mallon skin you alive, and you know it. You’re not out here because of your resume. If their casino falls apart my husband is not going to end up like Mayor Hunt. Diana Salazar will hold a press conference and say, ‘We should have known better. We trusted this man. He fooled us like he fooled everyone in Delaware.’” Olivia caught her breath. She glowed with fury. “You can leave tonight, or you can stay and help both of us, but you need protection just as much as I do.”

  Charles wanted to argue. He wanted to say she was paranoid, that he deserved this job and he deserved Branch’s trust. But then she was in front of him and he could smell her skin and his hands were on her hips and her mouth was coming closer to his.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  CLAUDIA SLIPPED into Mallon’s house sometime after four AM. It was later than usual, but not the latest it had ever been.

  She crawled over his chest and curled up against him.

  “Stop pretending,” she whispered. “I know you’re awake.”

  “You put your knee into my stomach.”

  “Are you tired?” She propped herself up on her elbows. “Because I’m not. Do you have the laptop? Let’s see what we can see.”

  “What did you take? Why do you have so much energy?”

  “I’m fine, don’t worry. You know . . . it was one of those nights. Show me the cameras.”

  A few weeks ago, Mallon showed her the compound’s video feeds. His laptop gave him access to everything: the cameras, the GPS, the dash cams, all of it.

  He slipped out of bed and grabbed his computer bag. They spent forty-five minutes ticking around the compound. They saw raccoons, night birds, the trees swayed in the breeze and everything was cast in an eerie green glow. Something about the color mesmerized Claudia. She said it was soothing. Mallon knew it was inappropriate, but he enjoyed patrolling the perimeter and making sure all was well.

  “I should set some of these up here, out back. Keep an eye on things.”

  “Nah, it’s better to look at places that are far away. Too close would be too weird.”

  “Well, look at this. It’s new.” He opened the control panel for the vehicles and turned on the dash cam in his own car. Claudia sat up.

  “See, this is weird.” She put her finger over the bedroom window. “There we are.”

  “There we are,” he repeated.

  “All these rich people are going to get you in trouble one day. You could join the local police, you know. It’d be boring, I guess, but you wouldn’t have to do all this.”

  “Being a trooper was nothing but handing out band-aids. Get one drunk off the road? He’s out there the next night. If not him, then someone else.”

  “You must have done some good.” She sounded like she was telling it to herself.

  “A few drug busts. Some people who deserved to have their skulls knocked around. That’s it.”

  “What? No evil mastermind with a dungeon full of innocent beauties?”

  “That’s not funny.”

  Mallon switched the camera view. Now, they were looking out of a dash cam at the compound. They could see the nose of another car parked directly in front of it.

  “I pulled over a cargo van one night. No reason. I didn’t like the look of it . . . that was the reason. Blacked out windows, dirty tires. Just as well I didn’t find anything because it wasn’t a legit stop. Driver was a little guy, ratty mustache, kind of looks like this loser we just hired.”

  Claudia pulled her knees against her chest. “What was in the van?”

  “There were little rings embedded in the ceiling and walls, but that was it. Nothing else. Not a pebble. Not a speck of dirt, and that was the problem.”

  “Your place doesn’t have a speck of dirt!”

  “That was different. Guy got squirmy and started to sweat once I pulled him over. I drag him to the station, talking big about forensics and fluorescein. But no one had that kind of tech in the mountains. No one wanted to do anything, and the desk sergeant knew it wasn’t a good stop. So this guy gets released. But I can’t stop talking about him. I wanted surveillance, I wanted to go out to his house. I wanted us to do something. Two weeks later, I’m farmed out to the governor’s security. That’s how I met Branch and started working for him.”

  “Because of the little guy?”

  “I think so.”

  “He was probably the son of a big shot. Or some witness protection guy stashed out in the woods.”

  Mallon shook his head. “No, I pushed too hard and people got sick of me talking about it, so they shipped me out. But, that van, something wasn’t right.”

  “I bet he’s still out there.”

  Mallon shook his head.

  “How do you know? Creepy guys come into the club all the time. I see guys who . . .”

  “No. I ran the plate, and the address came back as a little trailer outside Cerrillos, up in the mountains. Single wide, a few sheds out back, a dog tied to a post, neighbors were miles away.”

  The story was gathering its own momentum and was pulling out of his control. This man who was once tied up in a neat bow in the back of Mallon’s mind, out of sight
. Now, here he was again.

  “You went out there?”

  “I needed to. There was something. I still think there was something.” Mallon ticked through the dash cams without looking at any of them. “Guy pissed his pants when he saw me. Tried to hide behind his recliner.”

  “So would I.”

  “No you wouldn’t, you’re innocent.”

  Claudia lay back down. “Sure.”

  “I couldn’t find anything. Not a single earring or a fingernail. Not even any dust on picture frames. I still go through the trailer in my head, imagining this or that hiding place. I can see it all, the whole trailer, but there’s nothing. Nothing out in the sheds, or under the trailer or in his old barn, so I must have missed it.”

  “Or not. Maybe he was just a weirdo who got the piss scared out of him. You’re lucky he didn’t sue.”

  Mallon’s eyes refocused on the screen. Something was wrong. “He couldn’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  He pulled up the cameras again. Something was out of place, but what? He looked at the GPS map. All the cars were accounted for. Mr. Branch, Mrs. Branch, the SUV, the van, were all at the compound. Then, he went through the dash cams again. One of the cars at the compound had a good view of the house and the driveway. The GPS map showed four vehicles parked outside of the residence. But Mallon was looking through one car’s camera, and he only saw two other vehicles.

  Mrs. Branch’s car was missing, but her car’s tracker said she was at home.

  He turned on her dash camera. It was a black screen. He restarted the system. Nothing. He tried to pan and focus the camera. Nothing, as if she had put something over the camera lens. Finally, he remote-started her car and was able to activate the back-up camera. She was not at the compound. The camera showed a view of a house and some dense trees. It looked like it could have been one of those neighborhoods just outside of downtown.

  When Mallon sat up, Claudia’s hand slipped off his arm, but he barely noticed. He remembered the little guy in that trailer and his chance to do something good. He had promised himself not to make that mistake again.

  He had never trusted this prick from DC, and now he knew why.

  She was parked at his house.