Intentional Consequences
Page 32
We need to replay the soaring aspirational rhetoric of John F. Kennedy, Ronald Reagan and Barack Obama’s first acceptance speech. Regardless of their politics or their personal frailties, these leaders understood the importance of shared experience and moving America forward together.
We’ve come a long way since our nation’s founding, but we still have a lot to do. The issues we face are real and difficult. We’ll get a lot more done if we do it together.
Rakesh said, “This is wonderful. I like it, especially the closing.”
Chapter 65
As the early morning sky slowly brightened behind the dark shadow of the North Carolina mountains, Fred Billings sat at his desk and tore up the third note he’d handwritten to his daughter. He pulled out another piece of his engraved monarch stationary and began again. This time the words flowed.
Bunny,
Thank you so much for a wonderful long weekend with you, Will and the kids. Sorry I wasn’t up to my usual activity level. At least now you know why.
Please don’t think of me giving up. You know I’ve always been a fighter, when the fight was worth it. Think of me as going home.
I’ve had a wonderful life. Even with her untimely passing, my beloved wife and I spent 58 years loving life together. I’ve done some good things and some bad things, but I’ve always tried to do the right thing. I’ve worked hard. I’ve made mistakes, but I’ve kept on trying and learning.
I’m at peace. It’s time. More treatment wouldn’t benefit anybody other than my doctors and hospitals.
Thank you for being such a marvelous daughter and bringing your Mother and me so much joy. Every time you hug Will or the kids, remember I’m there with you, cheering you on.
Love, Dad
Billings folded the letter and placed it in an envelope, which he sealed and addressed simply to “Bunny”. He placed in the center of his desk.
Billings had been up for an hour. He’d showered and dressed, putting on his favorite tan corduroy slacks and a plaid flannel shirt over a long-sleeved tee shirt. As the sun moved closer to the ridgeline to the east, he put on his hiking boots and felt ball cap and slipped his arms into his green windbreaker. Filling his coffee cup in the kitchen, he went out on his deck and watched the sun break above the mountains for the last time.
When he finished his coffee, he took the day pack off the hook in his mud room and slung it over his shoulder. Outside, he picked up a folding camp stool and walked down his gravel driveway to the access road that wound through his property. As the sunlight illuminated the valley, he placed the stool in the middle of a patch of white oxeye daisies, which had grown and regenerated from seeds he and his wife had first planted more than 20 years ago. It had been their favorite springtime spot on the mountain.
Sitting on the stool, he looked across the valley. Spring leaves had greened the mountains all the way up to his house. Only the higher mountain tops across the valley were still grey and brown, and those were spotted with evergreens above the tree line. Dogwoods and flowering plums splashed white flowers across the green hardwood forest.
Opening the daypack, he took out a Tyvek envelope with “Jason” printed on the front and placed it on the daisies in front of him. Bowing his head, he prayed.
When he had finished, he stood proudly and in a single smooth motion he had practiced for three days, put his Colt .45 M1911A1 pistol to his right temple and fired. The single shot echoed across the valley. The weapon he had carried proudly as an Army officer in Viet Nam fell into the daisies next to his lifeless body.
◆◆◆
Jason heard the shot as he was walking out of his house to his F-150. He was supposed to pick Billings up at the daisy patch at 9:00 a.m. for a drive into Waynesville to have breakfast at Clyde's Restaurant and get some things at the Wal-Mart. Jason didn’t need to leave for 15 minutes, but the shot was unusual, especially at that time of day. He put his Glock on the seat beside him, checked his AR-15 and went up to investigate.
As he approached the turnoff onto the driveway, Jason saw Billings lying in the daisy patch. Most of his head had been destroyed by the hollow point bullet. Blood and bits of brain and bone covered the nearby daisies. As he walked over to his body, Jason saw the envelope, which had not been touched by the spray of body parts and fluids. Eyes tearing up, he took the envelope back to the truck and called 911.
As he waited for the Sheriff, he opened the envelope and found a letter, a list of names and phone numbers and five smaller envelopes, each filled with $100 bills. He read the letter, which said:
Dear Jason,
Sorry to inconvenience you with this mess, but I decided going home was better than more treatment. I left a note to Bunny on my desk. Please be sure she sees it today.
Please call the people on the enclosed list and tell them I’ve passed. You’ll see some notes about what to say to some of them. Please call them in the order listed, but if someone doesn’t answer, just go on and call the others. The first two are the most important, my lawyer and my assistant. My lawyer has some letters he will mail once he hears from you. He’ll also contact my daughter and my son. (I did not leave a letter for my son.)
The envelopes of money are for you. There’s a total of $25,000 in the five envelopes. It’s my small way of saying thank you for all your help and service. Once my affairs are settled, you will receive another $250,000, plus title to the Ford and the Jeep, your security weapons and, of course, our expensive guard dog.
The mountain property will go into a trust with resources to provide for its care for a long time. My daughter will be the trustee. If you want to stay on, the funds will be there to pay you. But you’ll need to keep my daughter happy.
Thank you for your respect and the care you and your wife have provided. I hope to see you in the Great Beyond.
Fred Billings
Chapter 66
Susan Ward was lying on a towel on the beach when Zhang Xiu Ying walked down from the house Ward had rented near Waimea on Kauai’s South Shore. “Hey, Susan, I’m here,” Zhang yelled. “Can you believe this place?”
Susan jumped up and ran to hug Zhang. “No, and I can’t believe I’m here with you!”
“Nice suit,” Zhang said. “Is this a private beach?” Ward was topless, wearing a black Brazilian bikini bottom.
“Sort of. There are some houses along the beach but it’s hard to walk very far because of the rocks,” she said, pointing. “I’ve only seen two couples down the beach since I arrived yesterday afternoon, and they didn’t come past here. The pool behind the hedge is private once you’re in it. There’s a hot tub in the garden up near the house. Come on, I’ll show you around.”
“How do you like my dress?” Zhang said, twirling around. She was wearing sunglasses and a floppy hat above a very short sleeveless cotton shift with a Hawaiian print design.
“Like the length. Tell me you didn’t fly in from Beijing wearing that!”
Zhang laughed. “No. I bought it at the Honolulu airport when I was changing planes for the flight to Kauai. Came with pants, but I put them in my bag after we landed here. It’s a little short, but I thought you’d like it.” She twirled again, raising her arms over her head. The dress rode up to just enough to expose a glimpse of her pale blue thong underneath.
They walked up from the beach together. The house was long and narrow with mid-century modern architecture and large windows overlooking the Pacific. It had open, airy rooms, lush landscaping and two different lanais. Privacy was a function of who walked by. The house was about 50 feet from the sand, and the beach was narrow. The windows in the living area had no curtains, although the bedrooms and bathrooms had sheers. The master bedroom had a king bed and a garden bath with an outside shower.
They spent the rest of the afternoon alternating from the bed to the beach to the hot tub and back. After cleaning up for dinner, they sat on lounge chairs in the grass by the beach, drinking Sauvignon Blanc and watching dusk fall over the ocean and the sun sink over t
he shoreline in the west. Afterglow painted the puffy clouds floating above the southern horizon.
Ward said, “Kauai is my favorite Hawaiian island. Wait until you see the mountains and the jungle. It even has a desert canyon.”
As dusk turned to night, they drove into Poipu Beach for dinner at Tidepools at the Grand Hyatt, eating ono and seared ahi at a table surrounded by koi ponds and overlooking the Pacific. Plumeria and Ginger flowers perfumed the air. Zhang wore her short arrival dress. Ward wore white gauze pants and a red print Aloha shirt tied unbuttoned at her waist. As dinner moved to more wine for dessert, Ward brought up PaprW8. Better to get it out of the way early, she thought.
“I’m sorry the project with CnEyeco Tech didn’t work out,” she said. “You did your part and more by leaving the software and data access in place after David’s death. Hastings never knew it was at risk of being pulled. He just got cold feet and second-guessed the whole relationship. I’m still not sure why. I pushed back hard, harder than I usually do. He basically ignored me and started isolating me from the project and some other work. When I confronted him, he suggested I take a couple of weeks off. He hasn’t treated me like that in a long time.”
Zhang said, “Having your company back out of the deal after I went to bat to keep you in was very damaging for me. I lost a lot of face. I would have been better off if I had recommended pulling the project from PaprW8.”
“I’m sorry.”
“At least we’re spending some of your vacation together in paradise. Do you have any idea what set Mike Hastings off?”
“No. I did find out he had a meeting with Rakesh Jain, the billionaire investor who owns most of JPAC, and Eva Johnson, the artist behind Daneva Tech, the company that created the image editing software. Hastings didn’t invite me to that meeting, which seems strange to me.”
“Have you heard anything from the FBI or the police?”
“No, nothing.”
“Has Hastings been contacted?”
“Not that I know of. But somebody spooked him. He’s trying to distance himself from something. He does that.”
“Have you heard from the reporter?”
“No.”
“Well, we’ve severed everything with PaprW8 at our end. Hopefully, that’s the end of it.” She sipped her wine. “Let’s go back to being tourists. You’ve been here before. What are we going to do tomorrow?”
Ward said, “I booked a helicopter ride over the island. It’s the best way to see how different Kauai is. Afterwards, we can drive up to Wailua Falls and stop for a late lunch in Poipu Beach. We’ll be able to spend some time on the beach back here before dinner. I made reservations at RumFire back in Poipu.”
“Wow! You sure you’re not a tour director?”
“That’s just tomorrow. The next day, we’ll drive up to Waimea Canyon and the lookout across Kalalau Valley over to the Napali Coast. We’ll see those places tomorrow from the chopper. On the way back, we’ll drive out to Barking Sands Beach and Polihale State Park. We should be back to the house in time to have some fun before dinner.”
“Any plans for our final day together?”
“Nothing yet. Maybe we’ll play here. Just you and me and Hawaii.”
◆◆◆
They did everything Ward described and more. On their last day, they went swimming at Poipu Beach in the morning, bought takeout sandwiches for lunch and spent the rest of the day at the house. After swimming naked in the pool, they dried in the sun while they ate their sandwiches on the pool deck. The beach and pool gave way to the bedroom more than once. Catnaps refueled their energy and their desire.
Holding Zhang’s naked body against hers in the pool, Ward said, “I can’t believe you’re going home tomorrow. Can’t you stay for a couple more days until I leave?”
“No. Can’t do it. I have to fly to Chengdu the same day I get back to Beijing.”
“Going to see the Pandas?”
“No, Miss Tourist Director. I’m just glad we could spend the time we’ve had together. It’s been very special. I’ll remember it the rest of my life.”
“Don’t sound so melancholy. You’re going to make me sad now. Let’s at least put that off until tomorrow.”
After naps and showers together, they had wine and snacks by the pool. Both were topless, with silk scarves wrapped around their waists. They strolled along the sand, holding hands, watching the sun slip toward the horizon where the mountains fell to the sea. After a while, they fixed dinner together. Ward made shrimp with Asian chili garlic sauce. Zhang made the salads. As dusk settled in, they ate on a lanai table lit by hurricane lanterns. A woven wood fence panel sheltered them from the easterly wind. Walking to the kitchen, Ward opened another bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and re-filled their glasses.
Zhang looked up at Eva with tears in her eyes. “Sorry,” she said.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“I’m going to miss you.”
“Me too. I don’t know how you do what you do. It must be so hard sometimes.”
Zhang looked at Ward, then turned away. “It is,” she said. “More than you know.”
“Well, you’ve sure gotten me over guys. I’m hooked on you. Do you know when you’re coming back to the States?”
“I don’t know. It depends on how my superiors judge this botched operation. I may not be allowed to travel to the U.S. for a while.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“I know you probably think it’s a stupid question, but would you ever consider moving to the U.S.?”
Zhang hung her head. “You are so innocent sometimes.” She looked up. “I wouldn’t last a month. I’d be dead. In this business, commitment is not an option.”
Eva looked at Zhang’s eyes. They were cold as ice, she thought. “You’re right, I’m naïve as hell. You’re playing on a different playing field. One I can’t even begin to imagine.”
Zhang stood up and wrapped her arms around Ward. They stood there, holding each other as tears flooded their eyes. After a few minutes, Zhang looked at Ward and kissed her, warmly, softly, with more love than sexual passion. Salty tears flowed together across their faces.
Zhang shivered. “Breaking their embrace, she walked to the pool and stuck her foot in the water. “I’m getting cold,” she said. “Bring your wine. Make love to me in the pool. It’s still warm from the sun. I’ll be right back.” She walked to the bedroom.
While Zhang was gone, Ward panicked. Why is she so emotional, so melancholy? she thought. Love? Conflict? Something worse? Deciding she had to cut the risk, Ward quickly swapped their wine glasses, making sure the levels and the wine glass charms were the same for each of them as they had been before the trade.
A few minutes later, Zhang returned with her coverup, which she dropped beside the pool. “Ready?” She took off her scarf and stepped in.
Ward went to the pool, pulled the scarf off her waist and joined Zhang.
“See, it’s warm,” Zhang said as she moved toward Ward. She passed Ward’s wine to her and took a drink from her own glass. “This is nice. I could stay here all night. Play with me.” Zhang said.
Kissing her passionately, Ward rubbed her body against Zhang’s, then slid her thigh between Zhang’s legs. Zhang clamped down, riding Zhang’s leg as it massaged her. Zhang pulled away and reached for her wine. Ward took a drink of hers and pulled Zhang to her. This time their fingers did the touching. After three days together, they knew each other’s needs and how to prolong the encounter. Zhang stopped Ward again. After more wine, they both gave in, shuddered and let go. Hungry for more, they repeated the experience.
They held each other for a while, then separated. Zhang said, “That was nice. You are so good. I love you.”
Ward said, “I love you too.”
It was the first time they had said “I love you” to each other.
It would also be the last.
Ward said, “I think I’m getting drunk. I’m a little light-headed.” She wal
ked unsteadily toward the steps to climb out of the pool. She said, “I think I need to get some water.”
Zhang followed her out of the pool and helped her lie down on the bed in the master bedroom. “Rest there for a minute,” Zhang said. “I’ll bring you some water, then we can play some more.”
Zhang went back to the pool and put on her cover up. She picked up the dishes and finished her own glass of wine. After she rinsed the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen, she went back to check on Ward. “Hey, sleepy, how are you doing? Are you ready for some more fun?” There was no response. “Susan? Susan?” Zhang nudged her. Still no reply. She was out.
Zhang went back to the kitchen and poured the rest of the open bottle of Sauvignon Blanc into her glass. Retrieving the burner phone from her purse, she sent a single text message that said: “Beautiful weather. Miss you so.” Then she walked down to the beach and sat on a lounge chair in the sand. The surf had calmed from the afternoon. The sound of the waves was hypnotizing. By the time she finished half her glass of wine, Zhang passed out. She didn’t see or hear the two text messages that came into the burner phone.
Using fear to stay awake, Ward remained on the bed for 20 minutes. The house was quiet, the bedroom lit only by light from the hall. The sheers were pulled closed. Still naked, she walked into the living room to check on Zhang, who wasn’t there. Going out to the pool, Ward saw her asleep on the lounge chair on the beach. She damn well better be asleep, she thought. Wrapping a towel around her waist, she walked down to the beach and jostled Zhang. “Hey, dream girl, time to play! Xiu Ying, hey, wake up.” Other than breathing heavily, the dream girl made no sound. Ward tried again and again got no response.
Walking back to the house, Ward picked up Zhang’s cover up and checked the pockets. She pulled out a thin vinyl glove and a small ampule with a plastic tip. Shit, she thought. Good thing I swapped the wine.
Moving quickly, Ward returned to the bedroom and flushed the ampule down the toilet. She pulled on black yoga tights, a pale blue Kauai tee shirt and her Skechers. She strapped on her Apple Watch and slipped her iPhone and passport into her waist band. Then she stuffed her toiletries and most of her clothes into her roller bag, grabbed her backpack purse with her iPad and charger and headed for the garage, where her rental car was parked. She put the roller bag on the back seat and threw her purse on the front passenger seat. She hit the button on the wall to open the garage door.