The Mentor

by Rebecca Forster

  11

  Her car was getting better. The mechanic, considerate as any specialist could be, consoled her that the cost was nothing compared to the health of a racing green, rag top MG. When Lauren stopped at the first stoplight, she thought she should call Eli to tell him about her car, thank him for the candy and maybe figure out how they might be able to get together again. At the second light she thought about Allan. Funny how she just realized she hadn’t spoken to him in days. When Wilson first began his deliberations, Allan called incessantly with ideas on how to sway his thinking. Then suddenly there was nothing. Perhaps Allan did know something she didn’t as Edie suggested so long ago. By the time she hit the freeway Lauren was free-associating with thoughts of Allan, Wilson, Eli, her car, her checkbook, Eli and Wilson and Allan and back again.

  The background noise for these thoughts was all the talk by all the people who had an opinion on everything from Henry’s whereabouts to Wilson’s chances for confirmation. Secretaries and people on the street, reporters hounding her, and Edie avoiding her. Abram not quite as patient, not quite as accommodating as he had been when he first appointed her, added his two cents. And, to make it all seem a royal mess, she was assaulted with the sights of the night.

  Cars heading East on the Santa Monica Freeway zoomed past, their headlights creating a stream of liquid gold. Ahead of her, an equal number of taillights left a fiery trail to follow. Mesmerized, focused on lights ahead of her and behind, and suddenly tired, Lauren almost missed her exit

  The rental didn’t have the handling of the MG but she managed the turn just in time to zoom off on Robertson, wind her way up to Olympic Boulevard, hang a left then a right on Avenue of the Stars and another right into the high-rise that housed Allan’s condo. Pulling into the underground parking she had two thoughts: she was late and Allan’s parking space was empty, which meant that he was later still.

  Carolyn Stewart wiped her hands on her apron when she heard the car pull into the driveway. She went to the front window and saw that Paul had left the headlights on when he pulled in. Anyone who was watching could see everything that was happening. Three men got out of the car, taking their time closing the doors. They hitched their pants, they pulled grocery bags out of the back seat and they laughed. Finally, Paul turned off the headlights and they all walked up to the porch that blazed with light. They rang the front bell politely. If anyone were watching, it would look like a visit to a woman in need of company. That was Carolyn’s cue. She hurried to the back door and opened it, hoping any surveillance had been diverted by the men on the front porch. Henry flew into her arms, a moth to a dim flame.

  “I’ve got to get the others. You go on downstairs,” she whispered even though they knew the house was clean.

  She held him close for a second more and then pushed him on. He felt thin. He smelled awful. She was glad she hadn’t seen the house where he was staying. She pirouetted back to the door by the second ring.

  There were hearty greetings all around. A grocery bag was put in Carolyn’s hand and much show was made of looking inside. Then the door closed against prying eyes. Grocery bags abandoned they all went downstairs to the room where Henry waited. This time a table was set up. The meeting was smaller than the last. Henry didn’t bother to ask why.

  “Hey, son,” Paul slapped him on the back, “how’s our fugitive doing? You’re giving them all fits disappearing like that. Still haven’t heard anything about death threats on the news. You sure you sent that letter?”

  Henry gave him a sickly smile. Carolyn touched her son’s hand under the table.

  “Yeah,” Henry answered.

  “Good boy. Let’s just get down to it. Carolyn’s been to see George. Told him we’ve been taking care of our end, right Carolyn?” The men chuckled and Carolyn nodded. “She’s got some instructions. Is he happy about the liens?” Paul looked around the table with a huge grin. It had been his idea to start that campaign after he read about another group doing the same thing. “We’ve been giving that court a time of it. Put liens on every piece of federal land in Southern California.”

  “Yes, he’s happy with the paper flood, but it’s not affecting the judge. George says it’s time to send a message to Caufeld. He’s getting too much attention. We need to control things.” Carolyn spoke softly, keeping her eyes on the table. She didn’t want to see the glee in the older men’s eyes, and she didn’t want to guess what she might see in her son’s when she gave them George’s directive. “He says to tell you he wants a warning only this time, and it’s up to you as to how you’ll do it.”

  “I don’t know why we’re playing these games.” James was talking. “I think we ought to just blow him to kingdom come. We should get it over and done with. That would send a message.”

  “No.” Carolyn was adamant. “That would just make people mad. George wants everyone to be afraid. If it’s something that kills Caufeld they’ll tighten security on all the Feds and none of the regular people are going to listen to us anymore. No.” Carolyn looked up, her eyes ablaze. Her husband had been specific and remembering his voice, his passion, the feel of his hands on hers as he gave instructions, gave her strength. She turned to Henry. “He wants you to do it, Henry. He wants you and Paul to start a campaign now. He says it’s time you took your proper place.”

  Henry’s cheek twitched.

  “I don’t want to, Mom,” he said quietly.

  Beside him Carolyn didn’t react. She was aware that Paul wanted to lay into her son but wouldn’t until she set the tone. She licked her lips and pretended she didn’t hear the comments of derision.

  “Your father wants you to do something to make Mr. Wilson Caufeld aware that neither your father, nor you, nor any of our group of concerned citizens, recognizes his authority. Mr. Wilson Caufeld has not responded to our pleadings or our needs. Force is the only avenue left to us.”

  “You’re not going to get him to change his mind.” Henry sat up and took his mother’s arm, forcing her to look at him. “You’re not going to change his mind about Dad, or what Dad wants, or what any of you want. If we hurt him for doing his job isn’t that wrong?”

  “I can’t believe you’re even saying this. After everything your father and I have taught you.” Carolyn shifted for the first time, uncomfortable, now that George’s name had been personally invoked.

  “Does it mean I have to agree with everything, Mom? I know what happened to you and Dad, but are we supposed to keep hurting people? What if they tried to hurt us?”

  “You don’t think that’s just what they’re doing?” Frank took center stage, anxious to be part of the conversation. “If they convict you and your dad, you’re going to fry. You will be dead in the electric chair, kid, and you don’t think that’s hurting you?”

  “Naw, they do that injection now.” Paul grabbed Henry’s arm and poked at the vein. Henry tried to pull back, but Paul wouldn’t let him go.

  “You think they’re going to look at your pretty face and decide you’re too nice a guy to kill? Listen Henry, if you don’t get them, they’ll get you, and that’s exactly what we’re fighting for.” Horrified, Henry looked into Paul’s angry eyes. He pulled away, afraid to tell him that the last bit made no sense. How could they be fighting so that everyone would have the privilege of trying to get at one another? Paul didn’t have a clue; he was just thrilled with the chance to terrorize Henry. “You want to tell your dad that you’re not with us? Is that what you want to do to a man who gave you life, put a roof over your head and stood up to a government so strong it could take that roof away, destroy his credit, make him want to die? Is that what you want to do?”

  Henry shook his head and hung it low.

  “Then show some guts, Henry. That’s what your mom and dad expect. Show some guts or get out.” James pushed his chair back and the legs scraped on the linoleum floor. He went to the chest and came back, putting a gun in front of Henry. “Show some guts,” Paul whispered, “or get out. But if you get out, then you
’re one of them, Henry.”

  The three men stood up and went upstairs leaving Carolyn alone with Henry.

  “Haven’t you learned anything?” she asked wearily before leaving without another word.

  Henry hunched over the table, the gun only inches from his nose, wished there were someone to talk to who he trusted. He wished Nick Cheshire had been there. Just looking at Nick could make Henry feel at peace even if he didn’t know what was right.

  But Nick hadn’t been there, and the others were waiting to take him to find Wilson Caufeld. There really wasn’t any choice. He picked up the gun, put it in his belt and walked slowly up the stairs.

  Edie Williams sat in her car and looked at Wilson Caufeld’s house. It was a big house for a man who lived alone. A car was parked half a block down and Edie assumed Mark’s men were either inside or about. They would probably recognize her even in the dark, so if she wanted to just walk up and ring Wilson Caufeld’s doorbell she could. They wouldn’t stop her. Caufeld would come to the door. She would say she was there to talk about Allan. Simple. Professional. A straightforward approach.

  She could do that.

  But what would she say after that?

  Edie picked up her heavy purse and flipped off the headlights.

  She would appeal to his emotions.

  She put her hand on the door latch and got out of the car. Before she could close the door, a car came down the street. It rolled slowly forward so she hung onto the door, waiting for it to pass. Suddenly her attention was diverted. A car came out of Wilson Caufeld’s driveway, the headlights so bright she had to put her arm across her eyes but not before she saw the judge at the wheel.

  Oh Lord. Damn it all anyway. Wilson Caufeld was driving away. The car down the street pulled out and the one driving toward her stopped then pulled into a driveway. Edie didn’t know if it turned around because she was busy getting back in the car and starting the engine.

  Lauren used the garage elevator key. She’d knocked to make sure Allan wasn’t home then used the other key on the ring to get in. Pocketing them both, she slung her purse on the couch, walked to the picture window, and took a minute to enjoy the view as she always did.

  The view was a stunner and Allan’s home was a showplace that it never occurred to Lauren to covet. Even the thing she most desired – closure over the circumstances of her mother’s death – seemed to be losing its grip on her. That left one big, burning question: what was it she wanted? To put the Stewarts away? To have a relationship? To feel dependent instead of competent? To beat Wilson? Impossible. Everything else was feasible.

  Lauren smiled. What she wanted was for Allan to get home so she could find out what it was he wanted. She put on water for tea then dialed his office. Allan barked his hello, apologized absently when she identified herself and told her he’d be there in twenty minutes when she asked how much later he would be. Lauren added ten minutes to the twenty he promised, took much of that time deciding what she wanted to order in and finally decided on Kung Pao chicken, egg rolls and steamed rice. She had just tucked her feet under and turned on the big screen when the doorbell rang. Once, twice and a quick two shots at the end. Too early for the delivery man but Lauren grabbed her money anyway and opened the door.

  “Edie!”

  No little white containers, no smell of Kung Pao chicken, only Edie Williams looking as surprised as Lauren. Edie managed to compose herself first.

  “Lauren.” They looked at one another. Edie was uncomfortable, a laughable situation if she thought Lauren didn’t know about her relationship with Allan.

  “Is Allan here?” She cleared a slight catch in her throat.

  “No. I’m expecting him any minute.” Lauren stood back, both hands on the door, hoping against hope Edie would say no when she asked, “Do you want to come in?”

  Edie’s eyes flicked left, then right. She pulled her purse across her front.

  “He’s not here, then?”

  “No,” Lauren said again. Then something dawned on her. If Allan wasn’t there, why was Lauren? Lauren took the keys out of her pocket and dangled them. “I check his mail when he’s out of town.”

  “Oh.” Edie stretched her neck; it was long and beautiful and flushed, and the woman was embarrassed. Lauren made amends.

  “Come on in. Come on,” she urged. “Were you supposed to meet him here, too?”

  “No.” She stepped across the threshold. “He wasn’t expecting me. I just thought he’d be here, you know.” Edie walked to the middle of the living room, her hands still clutching her purse strap, her elbows sticking out behind her as she bent from the waist to search for Allan. She twirled back to Lauren. “You know this is really uncomfortable. I mean, I like to keep things separate. You know, work and...well...this. I should probably go.”

  “He’s probably on his way,” Lauren looked at her watch. “I suppose. I expected him by now.”

  Edie minced toward the bedroom. Lauren took a step after her then backed off. It wasn’t as if Edie had never been there before.

  “Listen, just have him call me. I’ll be home in about forty-five minutes. He’s got the number.” Edie spun around. She almost lost her footing and that embarrassed her more. Worse, her clumsiness made her angry. Lauren had seen that look many a time in the office and really didn’t want to deal with it here.

  “If you think you should.” Lauren counted the seconds until Edie made good on the suggestion. She didn’t. Lauren couldn’t figure out what she wanted exactly. “Look, Edie, I don’t know what you’re thinking about Allan and me, we’re just...”

  Just then the door opened and there was no need to explain anything. Allan was home. He could decide who it was he wanted to see and if it wasn’t her, she would gladly leave.

  “Hey, Lauren,” he said wearily as he tossed his keys on the counter. He stopped, on his guard, a minute later. Edie and Allan exchanged a look that that seemed never-ending. Pale and cautious, Allan recovered first. “Edie. What brings you here?”

  “I...” Another glance Lauren’s way. A fidget. Edie’s jaw twitched. “Nothing. Nothing. I just needed to... You know, this isn’t a good time. I didn’t know you had company, and I feel like an idiot barging in. Call me, Allan. I’ll see you tomorrow, Lauren.”

  “I’ll walk you to the door.” Allan put his hand out and she smiled as she took the first few steps only to lose him when the phone rang. “Just a second and I’ll get you all the way downstairs.”

  Allan went for the phone. The doorbell rang. The food arrived. Edie stood in the middle off the commotion, not quite family, not quite a guest, and her equivocating presence annoyed Lauren, who was trying to figure out how to stretch the food when she heard the thing that had kept Edie transfixed.

  “Shot? Shot?” Allan kept asking.

  Lauren put the bag on the kitchen counter and walked into the living room to stand beside Edie. Tall and dark. Lauren, petite and light. The two women were a study in contrast, but they were both of the same mind. They wanted to know who had been shot. Unfortunately, there was an answer a second later. “Wilson? Judge Caufeld? Where?” Lauren’s hands flew to her mouth.

  “Oh, God.”

  “How?” Allan breathed. He looked toward the women, his eyes darting from one woman to the other. Lauren stepped back, afraid he might hand her the phone, but it was held firmly to his ear. “Dead? Wilson’s dead.”

  “No,” Edie murmured.

  A moment later, Allan’s hand fell to his side. Edie Williams collapsed on his perfect white carpet. Lauren Kingsley watched, frozen where she stood. “Oh, God, no.”

  To Lauren her own voice sounded odd. How could such a hollow and frail sound come from a person so competent in a crisis? Crouched down, Lauren touched Edie’s face. It was warm and pale. Her eyelids fluttered. Lauren was with her when she came around but Allan was the one who helped Edie to the couch. Relieved of duty, Lauren began to shake.

  “Allan.” She followed him to the couch. “Did I hear you rig
ht? Did I?”

  Allan went rigid. He didn’t straighten nor did he look at Lauren. How could he look her in the eye?

  “That was the LAPD. The sergeant identified himself properly.” Finally, he turned to face her, keeping a hand on Edie’s shoulder. “They found Wilson about half an hour ago, Lauren. Someone shot him and he died.” Edie groaned and put her head low toward her knees. He seemed torn between the two women and then chose Lauren. Taking her by the shoulders Allan tried to pull Lauren toward him. “I’m so very sorry, Laurie. So very, very sorry. I’m going to see him. I’ll take care of everything.”

  “I’ll go...” Lauren pulled back, but his grasp was tight. She put her hands onto his chest and held him back. Suddenly her eyes widened. It dawned on her what she was about to offer. Lauren raised her hands as if burned and broke from his grasp. Putting rigid fingers to her lips she whispered. “I’m sorry, I can’t go again. I thought I could, but I can’t go to the morgue. I can’t...”

  She was sorry she couldn’t accept his comfort and was sorry she had none to offer. Lauren was sorrier still that she was a coward and glad he wasn’t. Three strides and Lauren had her purse on her shoulder, her hand on the door and nothing but determination to leave. But she couldn’t open it. Not without an answer.

  “Twice, Allan. First my mother and now Wilson. Am I cursed? Where is God?”

  Knowing there was no answer, Lauren stepped into the hall. Before she closed it, Lauren heard Edie’s voice not quite as horrified and hollow as her own had been, asking Allan:

  “Is he really? Is he dead?”

  Lauren called the LAPD from home. Wilson’s death was confirmed. She had called Eli’s office, but it was late, and he wasn’t there. She asked that he be paged. There was no one else to call. The apartment was deathly quiet, so Lauren got back in her car, heading nowhere in particular. She never made it to nowhere. Lauren stopped at the Federal Courthouse thinking she would try to work until her mind could fully function again.