Charles almost threw the mug against the wall. Salazar’s office was empty. It was stripped of everything but the generic office furniture. Even the smiling blonde kids in the picture frames were stock photos. He pictured her disappearing into the mountains with a suitcase brimming over with hundred dollar bills and Charles’ guts. He looked back across the bullpen. Only one other person was there.
Jordan slowly, reverentially, placed her stuff into cardboard boxes. She had taken each postcard and campaign sign off the wall and neatly stacked them on the desk. This was a ritual for her, an emotional ceremony.
“Things seem different around here.” Charles tried to stay light. “Can’t quite put my finger on it.”
Jordan jumped, she took her earbuds out and looked up at him like she’d been caught. “Sorry, I didn’t think you were coming in today, didn’t think anyone was.”
“Even Salazar’s office is empty, stripped to the bone.”
“No real need for us to have all this space. They hired a couple outside accounting firms to balance the books, and then there’s, well, you know, your side.”
Charles sat down across from her desk. “I don’t think I do know. What is my side? I don’t know how to run construction.”
Jordan stopped packing and looked at Charles, confused. “I thought you negotiated all that. Diana hasn’t been looping me in on a lot lately. Didn’t even know about the settlement until this morning.”
Charles sighed. “They’re starting construction again?”
“The Apaches withdrew their claim yesterday.”
Charles couldn’t hide his shock. Branch must have taken Christine’s deal. “Do you know how much it cost? Were there changes to the underlying terms?”
Jordan shrugged her shoulders.
“Do either of us know what’s going on around here?” he asked.
Jordan picked the tape off the back of her postcards. “I’m sure everything’s fine. I’m meeting with Diana tomorrow to talk about what’s next.”
“So you’re sticking with her.”
“There’s another election coming up. She says there’s always room for me.”
Salazar must have seen something of herself in Jordan—the smarts, the strategy, the energy—something she wanted to keep nearby. Jordan was being groomed. One day, she would blink and realize she was in charge.
“You know,” he said, “I think you should start looking for something different. Go to Solís’ people, maybe. Get out of here. I should have turned around right away.”
“What are you talking about? You’re getting a new gig. You’re going to be right there with Mr. Branch. They love you.”
“That’s what I was telling myself too,” Charles said, somewhat embarrassed. “Look, I’m an asshole, and every bad thing you think about me is true, but listen to me when I tell you to be careful. I’m sure you’ve heard whispers here and there that make you nervous. You need to watch out.”
Jordan picked up the mug Charles had placed on her desk. “Is this Lou’s?”
“Yeah. I’m heading back to DC soon, so why don’t you hold onto it?”
Charles walked out of the office, wondering if she heard his warning and knowing he was starting to sound a lot like Olivia.
Making his way towards the Plaza, Charles felt a breeze in the air and allowed the stream of tourists to carry him along. On the walk, he called Thompson. It took too long to convince him to meet, but Thompson relented.
The next call was to Addie. He called twice before she answered.
“I don’t think there’s much to say,” she warned. “I’m heading back to DC tomorrow morning. It was the first flight I could get. We can do the rest over email.”
“Meet me, please. I’m going to sit down with Thompson and I want you to hear about how things work out here.”
“I don’t want to catch up with a friend of yours. I don’t want to see you.”
Charles cut down an alleyway on the outskirts of the Plaza. Blank, featureless adobe walls loomed on both sides of him, and his voice echoed strangely on the phone. He said, “Look, I know I’ve messed up and I need to get out before it gets worse. Thompson knows the score out here and he can help explain what happened.”
“You’re sleeping with another woman. Don’t turn this into some grand conspiracy.”
“Look, I tried to reach for something I shouldn’t have, and they’re punishing me. I want to go back with you. I need to go back. Thompson can help me explain.”
“What did you do out here?”
“I’m still trying to figure all that out, but I need to get out of New Mexico,” he said. “Come meet me in the Plaza, please.”
Addie was silent for a full thirty seconds, long enough for Charles to emerge from the alley and onto a sidewalk of vendors selling jewelry from blankets. Tourists cheerfully handed over stacks of twenties.
“I’ll give you fifteen minutes,” Addie said.
FORTY-TWO
OLIVIA WISHED MALLON WOULD MOVE. They were sitting in the guardhouse, about to call Cody. She wanted to pace and to chew her thumbnail while waiting, but Mallon sat still.
They had spent the night in the guardroom, pacing, talking through what they knew. It took hours for Olivia to convince him that she was only looking for enough to start over. When Mallon told her he only wanted everything to be normal, she believed him right away. Just before dawn, Mallon dragged his cot across the front door. Olivia moved some keyboards and slept on a table for two hours.
After waking, Mallon had gone to visit Thompson, Charles’ only other ticket out of Santa Fe. Cody had already prepared a file on him, so Mallon thought it would be a quick visit. She almost expected Mallon to come back with drops of blood on his collar. When he returned, he was calm, collected. They were shutting down Charles’ reasons for staying in New Mexico.
Olivia thought Charles should thank her, but somehow she doubted that would happen.
Now, it was time to call Cody.
Mallon’s eyes became dark and he set his chin in an angry, martial pose. Olivia pictured Janice and Cody packing, drinking mimosas and laughing at their unlikely reunion. Guilt crept in, but she brushed it away. Cody and Janice could have their lives together, but she needed her piece first.
“Sir,” Mallon stood up so fast he almost knocked his chair over, “We have an emergency.”
Olivia could not hear Cody’s response, which meant he was not berating his “kid” for the interruption. It meant he was in a good mood.
“I’m sorry it’s so early, sir. However, this is a fast-moving situation, and I wouldn’t call unless I absolutely needed to. It’s O’Connell and Mrs. Branch, they’re trying to pull something.”
Olivia tried to lock eyes with Mallon, encourage him that they were doing the best thing for everyone, that it would hurt Cody today but position him better tomorrow. “Like yanking a rotten tooth,” Mallon had said about her plan. Now, he looked hesitant.
“I know you’re aware of their activities, sir, but you don’t know about this. O’Connell is threatening to expose everything. Says he’ll go to the press, the FBI, anyone who’ll listen.”
Olivia heard Cody’s laughter through the phone. Mallon continued, “Of course, he doesn’t have any proof, but he says he’s been recording conversations, and Mrs. Branch has been helping him. He played me a tape over the phone, sir. It doesn’t sound good. He wants to talk to you directly.”
Now the rage. Olivia felt her chest tighten. Cody’s rages could level mountains. For a day, he had been happy, and now she was taking that from him. Mallon was quiet. He let Cody exhaust himself.
“I will, sir.” Mallon paused. “I agree. I’m afraid so. Yes, I do know where he is.” Mallon hung up and looked at Olivia as if she were holding a gun to his head. “It worked.”
“Like a rotten tooth.”
Mallon nodded. “Grab your bags. We can’t be here. He’s calling in the rest of the guys. Give it twenty minutes and then make your call. Is that everything
?”
“Cody’s not leaving? Did you get what you wanted?”
Mallon crossed to the door. “Not yet. I have to grab O’Connell.”
“Are you going to take him to my husband?”
Mallon did not turn around. “No, I can’t do that. Mr. Branch expects O’Connell to have tapes, evidence. He needs to leave before your husband gets to him. Thompson won’t give him any money, so the wife will have to.”
“After those photos you sent, I doubt she’s feeling like investing in him right now.”
“If he goes to Thompson, then he should be scared enough to go straight to the airport. I can convince him myself if I need to.”
Olivia shook her head. “Poor Charlie. Maybe he’ll actually learn a lesson.”
“He doesn’t seem like that type.”
Olivia smiled. “No, no he’s not.”
FORTY-THREE
CHARLES FOUND A BENCH near the old stone column in the center of the plaza. Tourists walked circles around him, snapping pictures. He wanted to sneer, make them look at the pictures later and regret not noticing that harried guy trying to stitch his life back together.
He saw Addie enter the plaza before she saw him. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her hair was pulled back in a thin ponytail. Finally, she zeroed in on him, and they found each other in the crowd, the way lovers are supposed to do. For the merest fraction of a second, it was a reflex really, she looked happy to see him, then the wind blew that expression off her face. She did not sit down.
“I don’t want to be doing this out here.” She looked around. “I shouldn’t have come.”
“Look, this city, this state isn’t normal. Thompson knows it better than anyone. All this will make more sense once he gets here.”
“Charlie, you slept with the woman in that photo. I don’t need to hear local gossip.”
“My boss’ wife was trying to get me to help her expose some of the corruption around here.” Charles reached for his ringing phone. “This is Thompson. He’s going to explain.” He pressed the phone to his ear. “I need your help. I need a drink.”
“Is that your wife with you?” Thompson asked. “What the hell’s she doing out here?”
Charles looked around the plaza. “Where are you? You’re going to need to tell her what it’s like out here. All the dirt.”
Thompson sighed. “Look behind you. See that drugstore there? Kind of old-timey? Let’s get a milkshake.”
Charles scanned the buildings around the square and spotted the “Apothecary.” A chalkboard out front advertised cold soda and hot fudge.
“Are you kidding me? I want a drink not a postcard.”
“It’s nice and cool in here.”
Charles hung up and looked at Addie. “He wants to get a milkshake.” She rolled her eyes and turned around.
“Wait, wait,” Charles said. “Five minutes. If you’re going to leave me, then leave me in five minutes.”
Addie readjusted her shoulder bag and walked towards the pharmacy. Charles followed.
Thompson was sitting on top of a small, round stool at the end of a long Formica bar. Charles took a seat next to him but Addie stayed standing. Clusters of families moved through the store pawing magnets and Billy the Kid T-shirts.
“You’re out of your mind,” Charles said. “What is this place?”
“It’s quiet and they make good milkshakes. I’m serious. I got one coming.” Thompson put an arm around Addie’s shoulders and brought her against him a little too tight. “Surprise seeing you out here.”
Addie cracked a small smile. “I’ve only got a few minutes.”
Thompson leaned over the bar to get the soda jerk’s attention. The poor guy wore a starched white, short-sleeve shirt and a little paper cap.
“No, we’re really okay.” Charles waved the server away.
Thompson reached down and adjusted his belt, which only drew attention to his gut. His grin faltered but did not disappear. He turned to Addie. “This place is a hundred years old. Older. You know what happened here? Upstairs. The guy who killed Trotsky stayed here just before going down to Mexico to do the deed. True story.”
Charles pounded his palm on the counter. “I need you to tell Addie about how things are done out here. The doom and gloom you gave me last week. Then I’ll tell you some very, very important information.”
Thompson pulled his mouth back into a frog-like frown and shook his head. “Maybe I don’t want to hear what you’ve got to say.”
“You do, you really do. But first tell Addie about Branch and Salazar.” The kid brought Thompson a strawberry milkshake in a tall, cold glass.
Thompson smiled at Addie in pity. He faced forward, stirred the milkshake with his spoon and shot a quick glance towards the front of the store. He said, “Your husband is working for two very powerful people. Very rich. Very, very rich and getting richer by the minute. And you don’t get that rich, that fast without pushing a few legal boundaries.”
Addie set her bag on a stool and looked at Charles. “You know you can’t afford to deal with people like this.”
“You’re right, it got out of hand, but this was my chance to head home with a real stake out here.” Charles turned to Thompson. “That’s what I want to talk to you about. There’s been big movement, and I was hoping you’d pay for some information.”
Addie interrupted. “Whoa, what are you doing?”
Thompson scooped some ice cream into his mouth. “My fault. I gave him some cash last week. He’s not the only one who gets a bit . . . blinded.”
He looked around the drugstore again.
“You expecting someone?” Charles asked.
“Hey, I’m here to say goodbye. I would prefer it if people didn’t, you know, see us talking right now.”
“That can’t matter. Why would that matter? No one knows me.”
“I bet you still think that’s true.”
Addie grabbed her bag. “I’m leaving. Charlie, if this was some trick to get me to stay, then I don’t know how it was supposed to work.”
“Neither of you are listening,” Charles caught himself and lowered his voice. “I know what they’re doing, and your clients need to hear this. Isn’t that what you wanted from me?”
“What I want,” Thompson stabbed his spoon into his milkshake, “is for this project to have never even started. More than that, I wish I had never even heard of airplanes. I’d be safer now running through the desert, throwing a spear at an angry, metal, god-bird.”
“I don’t understand.”
“No,” Thompson snapped. “You don’t. And maybe I should have warned you louder but I didn’t think you’d need that kind of coaching.” Thompson pushed the milkshake away so hard it almost toppled over. He pressed his thick fingers against his eyes.
“A few days ago, all I wanted was your inside track. You tell me the whole thing will become yet another half-built ghost town on the edge of the city, then I get my clients out. You tell me all is well, that they’re letting the Apaches build a casino next door, letting San Miguel have the parking and Cinnabon revenue, then I would have steered my clients accordingly. That was my dream.”
Charles took a deep breath. “I want another check. More consulting fees. Fifty grand.”
“You’re crazy,” Addie said. “You need real help.”
Thompson massaged his temples with the thumb and fingers on one hand, forming a clamp around the front of his skull.
“These are our options, aren’t they?” Thompson said. “Grind ourselves down like Hawley until we’re not even recognizable as humans, or jump ship and get rich and fat like me.”
“It’s time for me to get my share.” Charles whispered, but the anger kept searing his voice. “I’ve been neck deep in the electoral shit for years. Kids I hired as interns are managing winning senate campaigns. The other day I saw a ‘political analyst’ on CNN. He was a damn coffee boy on my house race in California. I got steered onto a treadmill and everyone else is .
. .”
“Man, after Delaware you should have . . .”
“No, do not tell me what I should have done. I never sold out. I never picked an empty suit and a great smile. The one time, the one time I chose the easy win? I almost go to jail. The one time I chose a corporate assignment, I end up trying to keep my voice down in a drugstore. I deserve to come out of this with something valuable. It’s not going to be connections, it’s not going to be power, so it’s going to be money.”
Thompson cast his eyes down, like a scolded child. He smiled and lifted his head, clasping a hand on Charles’ shoulder. He looked at Addie and sighed.
“Okay. This morning. Early. I’m alone in the office and I receive a visit from one of Cody Branch’s . . .” Thompson stopped to find the right word. “Guys. One of his very large, very scary, guys. The main guy actually. He delivers messages. I mean that literally. He carries folders and hand-delivers them to the governor or whoever, but never me.”
Charles’ foot was still shaking. The adrenalin was short-circuiting his blood. He knew it had to have been Mallon.
Thompson dropped his eyes again. He tapped the side of his fist on the counter. “This guy told me that you would be reaching out to me. He told me that you would have something for me. And then he told me that if I took what you were offering, well, then he didn’t say anything at all. Instead, he showed me a list of every client I have ever worked with. Now, that’s not a state secret, but there are privacy issues at stake. You can’t just go to my website and get a list of two hundred clients, but he had that list.”
“It was a threat?” Charles asked. “To stay away from me?”
“I shouldn’t even be here. And I prayed, literally, I mean that, I prayed you wouldn’t call. The big guy said you’d be desperate, and here you are, with another scheme.”
Trust Me Page 24
