Simon Wood

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Simon Wood Page 10

by Accidents Waiting to Happen


  "Let me check that for you, sir." The receptionist looked up James Mitchell's name on the computer records. "I'm sorry, there's no James Mitchell here,"

  Tammy said.

  "Oh, he did say he was checking out either yesterday or today," Bob said. "Did he leave a forwarding address?"

  "No,

  sir. I don't have a James Mitchell checked in or out," she said.

  Bob looked at Josh in confusion. "I don't understand, I picked him up from ..." Bob let his words trail off. "I must have the wrong motel. Thanks very much for your help. I'm really sorry to have put you to any trouble."

  "No problem at all, sir," Tammy said, still smiling.

  Josh shot Bob a baleful look that said everything.

  "We may have his name wrong, he's only visiting us," Josh said.

  "What did he look like?"

  "He's about forty-five, average height, medium build, brown, graying hair, very ordinary looking," Josh said.

  "We have a lot of men here who fit that description."

  "C'mon, Josh, we've got the wrong place," Bob said, and started to move away from the reception desk.

  Tammy's smile collapsed immediately when the two turned their back on her to leave. A non-corporate look of puzzlement replaced her smile.

  In the parking lot, Josh couldn't contain his frustration.

  "What was that? You bailed on me, Bob."

  "Hang on, Josh, wait a minute. I know this is the place I came to on Saturday and I don't know why they don't have a record of him, unless he gave them a false name. And I don't see a reason for an insurance agent to give a false name."

  "So what are you saying?"

  "I think you're right."

  Josh calmed down. "Hey, I'm sorry. It's just that I feel no one's in my corner."

  "Believe me man, I'm on your side. Something is beginning to smell here."

  "How did you meet him on Saturday?"

  "I met him in the reception area. He was ready and waiting."

  Bob fished in his jacket pocket and pulled out a Pinnacle Investments business card. He always kept business cards. James Mitchell hadn't given him one, but Bob had one from another Pinnacle representative. He looked at the embossed card and brandished it like a winning lottery ticket.

  Bob removed his cellular from his jacket pocket and dialed the telephone number on the card. "Moment of truth."

  "Hello, Pinnacle Investments. Your life is in our hands. My name's Karen. How can I help you?" the receptionist said.

  "Hi, Karen, could you give me a contact number for one of your insurance agents, James Mitchell, please?"

  "Just checking for you, sir."

  Silence greeted Bob for nearly a minute.

  "I'm sorry, there's no one by that name working here. Are you sure you have the correct name?"

  "I don't know. I'll check my paperwork and get back to you. Thank you so much for your help."

  "Could I have your name, sir?" the telephone receptionist asked.

  Bob hung up.

  "What did they say?"

  "They've never heard of James Mitchell."

  "Why are we going to see a florist?" Bob asked.

  "I want to know who sent that wreath," Josh said.

  "Pinnacle Investments, right?" Bob answered.

  "So the card said, but there's no proof. James Mitchell, or whoever this guy is, said he was from Pinnacle Investments, but he wasn't. So who says they sent the wreath?"

  The florist that sent the wreath was situated a few blocks from Josh's home, a small business amongst many on the strip mall put up to service the local community.

  Forget-Me-Nots was sandwiched between a delivery pizza joint and a manicure parlor that sold false nails for 7.95. Bob pulled into a parking space directly in front of the store, just vacated by an old woman in a Cadillac Seville.

  They entered the store and the electronic buzzer sounded. The staff consisted of one person--a tall middle-aged woman who came out from the rear of the shop. She was gaunt and a good fifteen pounds underweight.

  She looked as though someone had let the air out of her. Her iron-gray hair was thick and loosely curled to the middle of her back. Her jeans and big wool sweater hung on her like clothes on a coat hanger.

  "Can I help you with anything?" she asked.

  "We were after some information," Josh said. "You sent a sympathy wreath to my house last week. It came from Pinnacle Investments."

  The woman pursed her thin lips as she narrowed her eyes. "You're Josh Michaels?"

  "Yes, I am."

  "Oh, you're the one. Chris was none too pleased with your ... outburst."

  Josh flushed a little, embarrassed by his misdemeanor being brought to book. "Yeah, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have tried to kill the messenger. And if Chris is here, I would like to apologize to him in person."

  Her face softened at Josh's apology. "Well, he's not and I don't think he would be too interested in what you had to say anyway."

  Josh winced and looked at Bob. He smiled flatly.

  "Is that all you wanted?" she asked.

  "I hope you can understand that my friend was under a lot of stress and someone played a sick joke on him. His car was forced off the road into the river. And we are here to get to the bottom of it," Bob said.

  "That was you? Wow. I saw the car dragged from the river on TV."

  Josh nodded.

  "Can you tell us who placed the order for the wreath?"

  Bob asked.

  "Let me check." She disappeared into the rear of the store.

  Bob placed his hands in his pockets and leaned back slightly, forcing his jacket open, displaying his ample belly. He looked approvingly around the store.

  The florist returned through a string bead doorway.

  "It was ordered by Pinnacle Investments from their head office, in Seattle."

  "And it definitely came from Pinnacle Investments?"

  Bob asked.

  "Yeah, I had to call them back to check some details."

  Josh frowned.

  "Is that the answer you were looking for?" the florist asked.

  It wasn't.

  Josh walked the five blocks from Forget-Me-Nots to his home with a bunch of roses in one hand. The flowers would be something nice for Kate. He hoped it would put a smile on her face. Also, the purchase was in some way Josh's apology to all those employed at the florist he'd offended. He hoped he would start making people happy.

  But he was far from happy. He'd tracked James Mitchell down to his motel, but that wasn't his name and there was no sign of his existence. He'd expected the man to have bought the wreath, but he hadn't. Pinnacle Investments had sent it. It didn't make sense.

  There was no connection, no conspiracy, no nothing.

  Maybe he was overwrought from the stressful events of the last week and his paranoia was unfounded. An irritated driver beeped her horn at him. Josh snapped back into the real world and found he had stepped onto the crosswalk when the light was against him.

  Josh arrived at his home a few minutes later. He let himself in and called out to his family. He heard voices from the backyard and immediately put the flowers behind his back. He closed the door with his foot as Kate and Abby came in from the patio.

  "Hi Dad," Abby said.

  "Everything okay?" Kate said.

  "Yeah." Josh produced the flowers from behind his back. "These are for you, babe."

  At a loss for words, Kate took the flowers, put her arms around her husband and kissed him. "Thank you.

  I love you," she whispered in his ear.

  "I've been such an idiot," he whispered back. "I'm sorry."

  "Never mind that."

  Their embrace was brought to a sharp conclusion by Abby. "What about me?" she said.

  They looked down at their daughter.

  "Oh yeah," Josh said.

  He released Kate and removed a single rose from the bunch. Kneeling, he gave it to Abby. "Of course a rose for my other lady."

  "I'll pu
t it in my room," Abby said, and tore up the stairs.

  "Don't forget to put it in water," Kate called after her.

  "Am I a good husband?" he asked.

  She smiled at him crookedly, bemused. "Yeah, I suppose."

  Kate turned her back on him and went into the kitchen. She arranged the flowers in a vase and placed it on the kitchen table.

  In the living room, Josh flopped onto the couch, exhaled and ran his hands through his hair. Kate came into the living room and sat on the coffee table in front of him.

  "How did you get on?"

  "Okay, I guess." He paused. "I don't know. We didn't find anything out really."

  "Tell me," Kate said.

  Abby bounded down the stairs and ran into the living room.

  "I'll tell you later," he said.

  Standing over Kate, looking as menacing as an eightyear-old could, Abby asked, "Can we go now?"

  Kate smiled and slipped an arm around her daughter.

  "I suppose so."

  "Go where?" Josh asked.

  "The zoo," Kate said. "I was waiting until you got back. You coming?"

  The zoo brought back a recent unpleasant memory.

  "No, I don't think so," he replied.

  "Are you sure?"

  "Yeah, I've got some paperwork to put together for the FAA."

  "Okay. Your loss."

  She got herself and Abby ready for their afternoon at the zoo. Josh saw them out. Before he closed the door, Kate said, "Miss you."

  He busied himself with the task of producing the documentation for the destroyed Cessna. In his office, he removed his copies of the certificate of airworthiness, technical logs, insurance certificates and other mandatory documentation that would be requested for inspection.

  He still had to inform the insurance company that the airplane had been destroyed. That was a nuisance he could do without. Insurance companies were the bane of his life at the moment. He picked up the phone and started to dial the claims line.

  The doorbell chimed.

  Josh put the phone down and answered the door, his thoughtful mood shattered upon opening it. Belinda Wong stood on the porch.

  "You asshole!" Her beautiful oval shaped face was screwed up in hate. She pushed the door wide open and walked in without invitation.

  Josh checked that none of his neighbors had seen Bell's arrival and quickly closed the door behind her.

  "What are you doing here?"

  "You know why I'm here, Josh." She spat his name like she had venom in her mouth. "And don't worry.

  Your wife and kid didn't see me. I can see the look on your face."

  She was right. Her invasion of his home in broad daylight terrified him. But she didn't have to rub his face in it. Throwing her out by the scruff of her neck seemed a very appealing option, but the undesirable scene it would bring prevented him.

  "I've been waiting for your family to leave all morning,"

  she continued.

  "What do you want, Bell?" Josh demanded.

  "You coward. Sending your fat friend, Bob, to tell me not to ruin your little family unit." She mocked him by speaking in baby talk. "Did you tell him to do that?"

  "No, I didn't. And I don't have to explain myself to you."

  Bell shook her head in disgust.

  "Why did you crash the party, Bell? I paid you as you asked and I shouldn't have seen you again."

  "Because I wanted to, because I want you to know that I can drop into your life any time I want and I don't need to ask." She scraped an index finger with a wicked looking manicured nail under Josh's chin. The nail rasped against his stubble when she curled her finger back sharply.

  Anger, hate and frustration welled up inside him. He should have known that Bell's return hadn't been intended to be a brief encounter. She toyed with him like a cat with a mouse and he wondered when would she go in for the kill. He'd had enough.

  "How much to make you disappear forever?" he asked.

  "Josh, that's only half your problem. You think money will solve everything. If you hadn't been so fascinated with the stuff, you would never have gotten yourself into this shit pile you're in now."

  "That's bullshit, Bell. I took that money because I needed it for Abby's medical treatment and you know it."

  Suddenly, Bell softened. She became seductive, sexual.

  "Josh, you know it doesn't have to be like this. You know what you have to do to stop all this . . ."--she searched for the word--"unpleasantness. Don't you, Josh?"

  Josh allowed her to come close to him. She slipped an arm around his neck and looked into his eyes. His body went rigid, unbending to her will. He resisted her.

  "No, I don't, Bell."

  "Leave that wife and brat of yours for me, of course.

  Silly boy." She oozed sex and temptation.

  Raising a hand to his face, Bell caressed his cheek and kissed his mouth. The kiss was brief. He slapped her hand down, then gripped her wrist and twisted it behind her back. The kiss had been broken before she could make it openmouthed. Bell released a short laugh, taking pleasure from Josh's rough play.

  "I don't think so," he whispered.

  She laughed. "You seem in the mood to play. Are you sure?"

  "Never in a million years would I ever want you back."

  He released her arm and pushed her away with a sharp shove to the chest. He'd washed his hands of her.

  He didn't want her.

  Bell stumbled back, nearly falling, but saved herself by steadying herself against a small table with the telephone on it. The impact rocked the table and the telephone fell, the receiver clattering to the hardwood floor.

  Hatred consumed her face again. "You prick, Josh.

  You think you're so righteous, so perfect. Well, I'm not the one who took a bribe, cheated on my wife and screwed my secretary. Josh, you're going to be so sorry when I've finished with you."

  "And are you going to do that alone, Bell? Or are you going to get your new friend involved?"

  Bewilderment crossed Bell's face.

  "You know, the guy who pushed me off the bridge. I saw you with him at the party."

  After a long moment, recognition, then a malicious grin spread across her face. Still slumped against the table, Bell righted herself. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

  "Well?" Josh wanted an answer. Was James Mitchell her partner?

  "Fuck you, Josh. I think I have the answer I was looking for from you. And you will be hearing from me ... in one way or another. Or your wife will."

  "Get out!" he barked, shaking with rage.

  "Suit yourself," she said, the evil grin still present on her face. She opened the door and let herself out.

  "Dammit!" Josh said to himself, his hands balled up into fists.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The park was a full city block of grass in the downtown area, one of several plots scattered throughout downtown like green property squares on a Monopoly board. The children's playground occupied one corner of the park. Unsupervised and shrouded by trees, it was home to tire swing sets, slides, monkey bars, seesaws and a merry-go-round, all contained in a sandbox.

  Abby had the playground to herself. It was late in the afternoon, and she had free run of the amusements and no petty arguments about whose turn was next. It was every child's dream and today, Abby's had come true.

  Abby's good fortune wasn't because of good timing or knowing an out-of-the-way place. She had the playground to herself because most of the city parks were populated with bums spending their days lounging or panhandling, and parents feared their children coming in contact with an undesirable. They would rather take them to more secure places. However, this park playground was the exception. Not in a part of town heavily populated with city workers who had money to give, the park was virtually unmolested by bums who gravitated to places with better pickings.

  Squealing, Abby came down the slide, her dress riding up and wedging under her bottom. Wagging his tail, Wiener waited at the bottom of the
slide and barked in time to Abby's squeal. She ran back to the steps to climb up for another go.

  Josh and Kate occupied two of the swings. The adults looked like giants on the swingset designed for children. Josh stretched out his long legs far in front of him, his heels digging into the sand. Kate rocked slowly back and forth. They watched their daughter at play.

  Neither said anything to the other.

  Low in the sky, the sun cast shadows on the narrow streets. A gentle breeze ruffled the trees, producing a sound similar to waves lapping a sandy beach.

  Kate shuddered. "I'm getting cold. What time is it?"

  Josh looked at his watch. "Just after five."

  "I think we'll go in a minute," Kate said to Josh; then called to Abby, "Another five minutes then we're going, sweets."

  Both Abby and Wiener looked Kate's way at the bottom of the slide. "Oh, Mom! Can't we stay longer? I'm not tired or anything," Abby whined, as only kids can.

  "We'll have five minutes to think about it and let you know. Okay?" Josh said.

  Abby nodded happily and ran off toward the monkey bars, Wiener bouncing after her.

  "Why the delay?" Kate asked.

  Josh started to speak, but the words didn't come.

  Kate turned in the swing, twisting the chains above her. "Come on, Josh, spit it out. You brought us here and you haven't had two words to say in the last hour.

  I've talked and you've stared into the distance."

  Josh took a breath and released it as a sigh. After Bell's visit yesterday, he knew it was better he told her now rather than Bell telling her later. He turned to face Kate. "There's something I want to tell you. It's something I should have told you a long time ago. It's something I did. Something that I think is coming back to hurt me and indirectly can hurt us."

  Fear passed across Kate's face like a shadow and the sparkle in her eyes dulled. He saw her mind working, trying to guess what he'd done. Would she be close?

  Could she imagine the things he'd done? If she couldn't, he would hurt her with his next statement. If she could, what did that say about them? Either way, it made this confession all the more difficult. Josh wrung his hands together and looked at them.

  "Remember when Abby had that kidney and liver infection after she was born? She was in the hospital for such a long time and you didn't leave her side. You were with her virtually day and night."

 

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