Josh felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Hey, Josh," Bob said.
Josh turned to the row behind him, where Bob was taking his seat. "Hey, Bob."
Kate and Abby turned to Bob and they said "Hi" to each other. Abby managed a smile for the first time that day.
"Thanks for coming, man. You didn't have to,"
Josh said.
Bob leaned forward. "Yeah, I know, but I was talking to the guy the day before the crash." He leaned farther forward and whispered, "Can I talk to you afterwards?"
"Yeah, no problem."
Bob sat back. The wooden pew creaked under his weight. He nodded to a group of four people and moved over to let them sit down.
The minister took his place at the lectern and the organ music died. A hush came over the congregation.
The minister introduced a hymn and everyone stood and sang. The service echoed throughout the bowels of the church and sniffs and gentle sobs punctuated the proceedings. Mark's sister, Mary, gave a tearful eulogy about Mark's love for life. The service ended with a final hymn.
Those gathered slowly filed out of the church and into the courtyard. The mourners clumped into groups and made awkward conversation. Josh excused himself from his family and made a beeline for Jack Murphy, who was heading toward the parking lot.
"Jack." Josh placed a hand on the mechanic's shoulder.
"I'm glad you came."
"I wasn't going to, but Mary asked me," he said.
"Why weren't you going to come?"
"Why do you think?"
"Don't be stupid, nobody blames you. Mary doesn't and I don't."
"Well, I do."
"I spoke to the NTSB investigator a few days ago.
They aren't blaming you. They have their suspicions, but no reason to take any action against you." Josh exaggerated the truth, hoping to alleviate the mechanic's depression.
"For now," Murphy said.
Josh frowned.
"I've gotta go," Murphy said. Quickly, he moved away from Josh.
"Jack, it's going to be okay. Trust me." Josh spoke to the mechanic's back. He watched Murphy get into his car before returning to his family.
He spotted Kate and Abby speaking to Mary and her husband. Bob intercepted Josh before he got to them.
"Hey, pal," Bob said.
"You talk to the cops?" asked Josh.
"Yeah," Bob replied.
"I assume it didnk go well, judging by that answer."
Josh and Bob were interrupted before any more could be said.
"Josh."
Mary stood behind him. He turned to her. She was the female embodiment of her brother Mark--small, only five feet, slight of frame with the minimum of curves. Only two years Mark's junior, she possessed the same salt and pepper gray hair.
"Thanks for coming." Smiling, she took Josh's hand in hers and clasped another on top of his.
"Oh, it's the least I could do," Josh said.
"He thought of you as a good friend."
"Thank you."
"The will has been read. You got the letter from the attorney?"
"Yes, I did. I know about the plane."
"I just want you to know I'm glad he left you his share of the aircraft. God knows what I would have done with it." Momentarily, the smile slipped. "Although I'm not sure what good it is to you now."
"I don't know. It's in the hands of the insurance company."
The smile came back, bigger and brighter. "I hope you will do some good with the settlement."
"Of course."
"Are you following on to the cemetery?"
"Yes."
"Good." Mary turned her head to Bob. "And you?"
"Oh, Mary, this is a friend of mine, Bob Deuce."
Mary shook hands with Bob.
Bob hemmed and hawed, but Josh answered for him.
"Yes, he'll be coming along."
"Good. We'll be leaving in five minutes." Mary moved onto the other well-wishers.
"We'll talk on the way to the cemetery, okay?" Josh said.
Bob agreed.
They joined Kate and Abby. "Are you going on or leaving?" Josh asked.
I'm going to take Abby back to school, then I'll go back to work. I can see you and Bob have something to discuss."
Josh frowned. He dropped to one knee and kissed Abby. "I'll see you after school, kiddo."
"Okay, Dad," Abby said.
Getting up, Josh said to Kate, "I'll see you later."
"Yeah," Kate conceded. Taking Abby's hand, she turned on her heel and strode off for the Dodge Caravan.
Bob waited until Kate and Abby were out of earshot.
"It got a bit chilly all of a sudden, don't you think?"
"Yeah. Things aren't going too well, as you can imagine. She's none too pleased with me these days ever since Channel Three turned up on the doorstep."
The morning after Josh's name had been given out on Channel 3, the news crew landed demanding a comment. Kate had answered the door to them. Pictures of a flustered Kate before Josh had intervened with a stern, "No comment," made the evening news.
Other local news stations repeated the process, as did the rest of the press. Josh had been screening calls ever since.
"You can't blame her," Bob said.
"Yeah, you're right," Josh agreed.
Bob looked at him. "Are they still trying to get an interview?"
"I've told them 'No comment' about a dozen times. I think they've got the message." Josh stared at his wife and child. "Come on, let's talk in the car. I'll drive."
"You got a new car?"
"The loaner from the insurance came through yesterday."
A
hush came over the crowd. Josh turned. Mark Keegan's coffin was brought out and loaded into the hearse. This heralded the end of the service and the mourners filed into the parking lot. In respectful fashion, the hearse, limos and cars poured out of the church onto the roads.
Josh merged with the flow of traffic, taking his own route to the graveyard. The cemetery was a twenty minute drive from the church, which gave him the perfect opportunity to talk privately with Bob. Murder and attempted murder weren't appropriate conversation for the graveside.
"What happened with Starsky and Hutch?" Josh asked.
"Wipeout. You're right about them, though. Brady certainly has a stick up his ass. But I couldn't make out whether it's about you or if he's just made that way.
Williams listened, though."
Josh nodded, agreeing with the character assessments.
Bob continued, "I don't think they're going to do anything. To be honest, we don't have anything to give them."
"What do you mean?" Josh snapped.
"We have a man with a fake name, a fake job and no permanent address. In their opinion, we ain't doing them any favors."
Josh cursed. "So we got nothing out of it."
"I dunno, Josh. I think I put the seed of doubt in their minds about the phone call to Margaret Macey."
"How did you end it with them?"
"They said they'd call me if they needed me further."
With his mind on the conversation, Josh's focus wasn't on the road. He failed to see the woman with the stroller stepping into the crosswalk until the last moment. He slammed on his brakes and the front wheels skidded over the first of the two white lines.
The force threw both men forward, but the seatbelts kept them restrained. The woman jerked the stroller and child back from the brink.
People on either side of the road stared and frowned disapprovingly. The woman with the stroller attempted the crossing for the second time. She chewed Josh a new asshole as she crossed. The windshield muted her abuse and protected him from the evil she would do if given the chance. Blissfully unaware, the child slept through the drama.
Josh released the breath he had held since violently applying the brakes. Openmouthed, he fixed his eyes on the woman insulting him as she walked.
"Nice one, Centurion. I nearly had a cardi
ac arrest.
If we're lucky, we can ask the minister if he'll do a group booking at the graveyard," Bob said.
Josh wiped his hands over his face. "Shit, sorry, man.
I was miles away."
"Unfortunately, I was right here in the thick of it."
A car horn tooted from behind and Josh glanced in the rearview mirror.
"C'mon pal. Focus now and let's see if we can't get to where we're going in one piece," Bob said.
Josh removed his foot from the brake and inched down on the gas. Slowly, the car accelerated away from the intersection.
Again, Josh's focus wasn't on driving or his problems.
His mind was a blank. Occasionally, his mind flicked back to what could have happened if he had hit the stroller. He shuddered at the thought.
"I did something you may not thank me for," Bob confessed.
"What do you mean?"
"After the cops, I wasn't happy with their lack of interest in the case. I wanted to do something more ..."-- Bob searched for a suitable word--"more proactive."
"And?" Josh prompted.
"I called Margaret Macey." Bob was already wincing as the old woman's name came out.
Josh felt the air around him squeeze. Anything anybody did to improve things only made them worse. He swore if he did nothing, it would make matters worse.
He switched lanes to make a left turn.
"I thought I could get some information from her that could help us," Bob said in his defense. He clutched the overhead door strap for support as the car made the turn.
"Well?"
"She went into wild hysterics."
"Shit, don't do me any favors."
"Yeah, I know, but listen!"
Josh fell silent.
"She went loopy as soon as she heard I was from an insurance company." He paused. "She really does think someone's trying to kill her."
"What do you mean?"
"Margaret Macey thinks someone at her insurance company is trying to kill her." Bob allowed the information to sink in for a moment. "What have you and she got in common?"
"We've both cashed in a life insurance policy?"
"Yeah, not only that, but you cashed them in with the same insurance company--Pinnacle Investments."
"What are you getting at?"
"James Mitchell said he was from Pinnacle Investments and when he came to me, he asked about you two. I know we've considered Mitchell may be working with Bell, but we haven't considered that he's working with Pinnacle. I think Pinnacle Investments may be at the root of all this."
"Where did you get that idea from?" Josh asked.
"It came to me last night, while I was in the tub."
"The tub?" Josh scoffed.
Bob sighed. "I know it sounds wild, but to me it seems worth further investigation."
"No, I'm sorry, Bob."
"It's no wilder than the shit you've come up with in the last few weeks."
The remark struck Josh hard, a kidney punch when he wasn't looking. He knew he'd driven family and close friends mad with his rants, complaints, revelations and general paranoia. In days of old, they would have probably bored holes in his head to let the demons out.
"Okay," Josh conceded. "What do you want to do about it?"
"I don't really know. I thought I would check out Pinnacle Investments's operations," Bob offered.
"Before you poke your nose into things too far, I think I'll pay Margaret Macey a visit."
"Are you crazy?"
"No, not if we have something in common like some psycho trying to kill us. Maybe she knows something we don't."
"What about the cops?"
"At the moment, I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't, I haven't got anything to lose."
Bob frowned. "I don't know about that."
Josh glanced at his friend. Bob looked like he was trying to pass a football-sized kidney stone. Josh smiled at him.
"I don't see what you have to fucking smile about,"
Bob said, nonplussed.
"Bob, I don't say it often. You're a good man and a good friend. And I do appreciate it."
The big man's cheeks reddened with embarrassment.
"Just drive."
Josh's good mood didn't last as the cemetery came into view. He swung the car into the garden of bad memories with the other arriving vehicles.
Josh felt strange pulling into the parking lot of Red Circle Engineering. It felt like the first day of school all over again. He'd only been away from the company less than three weeks, but in that time, his world had been turned on its head. The place felt unfamiliar, as if he'd been away for a hundred years.
Once he was in the building, he didn't want to be there. Work was pointless. The decisions he made here paled in significance to the life and death decisions he needed to make outside. He stayed, though. He had a fagade to portray. He had to let those people know he was doing okay and all was well with the world.
He flashed a car salesman's smile to Tanya on reception duty, an attractive blonde in her late twenties. Her smile looked stapled in place. She looked at him as if he carried a collection of severed heads by the hair in one hand instead of his briefcase.
"Hi, Tanya. I'm back," Josh said, like he was on happy pills.
"Hello, Josh. It's nice to see you." Tanya spoke like she was trying out the words for the first time.
Josh left Tanya and her constipated smile to their own devices. Between the reception area and his office, he encountered a number of colleagues who seemed to lack the time to chat beyond the merest of pleasantries.
Others at desks ensured they didn't make eye contact with him. He found it increasingly difficult to smile. By the time he reached his office, he'd worn the happy facade to the bone.
"Hi, Jenny," he said despondently.
Deep in concentration, Jennifer Costas, the procurement department's administrative assistant, looked up from her computer. A plain-looking woman in her forties, tall with narrow shoulders and big hips, she was Josh's invaluable sidekick. Surprise replaced her look of concentration.
"Josh, it's good to see you," she said.
"Hopefully, you can fill me in on recent events," he said and went into his office.
Jenny followed Josh into his office.
He put his briefcase on the floor by his desk and dropped into his chair. Surprisingly, his desk was relatively bare. Usually, after a week on vacation, paperwork would be spilling off the sides.
"What's going on? Fill me in," Josh said.
"Josh, Mike Behan wants to see you right away."
Jenny wrung her hands in front of her, guilt-ridden anxiety etched into her face.
"What now?"
"As soon as you arrived, he said."
Mike Behan, the commercial vice president of the firm, had his office on the opposite side of the building.
Josh had to make an uneasy return journey in front of his equally uneasy coworkers. Again, heads buried themselves into paperwork that didn't deserve the attention.
Why doesn't this feel like it's going to be a pep talk from the boss? he thought as he approached Mike Behan's secretary. Lisa saw him immediately.
"Hello, Josh. Mike will see you right away," she said.
Josh went in and found Behan speaking on the phone. He leaned back in the leather executive chair with one hand on the desk. Seeing Josh, he beckoned him in with a wave of his arm and a smile. Behan finished up his conversation and put the phone down. He straightened in his chair and sat with his forearms on the desk and his fingers interlaced.
Josh sat down on one of the seats at the board table abutting Behan's desk. Lisa closed Behan's office door.
A closed-door meeting meant something was wrong. It put him on his guard.
"Good to see you, Josh," he said.
"Thank you."
"Are you recovered from your accident?"
"Sure, no problem. Dry as a bone."
Behan laughed. "Tell me what happened."
Josh recounted the events on the bridge, but slightly distorted the facts. He didn't mention the thumbs down incident; instead he replaced it with the assailant giving him the finger once the car was in the river. Behan nodded and looked shocked at the appropriate times.
"And the cops can't do a thing?" Behan asked, incredulous.
"No.
They've got nothing to go on. They suggest I should put it behind me. Reading between the lines-- shit happens, live with it," Josh said.
"Kate and Abby, how are they holding up? Good?"
Josh nodded. "They're good."
"And sorry about your flying buddy. Tragic, tragic.
You must be waiting for the next bad thing to happen."
Behan reddened as soon as he completed his sentence.
Seeing Behan flush, Josh guessed what was coming.
"But, I'm back. Ready to pick up where I left off," he said.
"That's what I wanted to speak to you about, Josh."
Behan shifted awkwardly in his seat. The chair swiveled when he moved. "I saw something on the news while you were on leave. I think you know what I mean."
A block of concrete sank in Josh's gut and rested uncomfortably on his bladder. He didn't acknowledge Behan.
"The television report is very damaging, regardless of its validity. And I hope the situation is quickly resolved for everyone's sake, especially yours. We, as a company, cannot afford to be at risk--we have investors, customers and employees to consider. I think you understand that it would be unfair to them to put their livelihoods in considerable peril over one man."
Son of a bitch. No wonder everyone is so jumpy. Josh couldn't believe what he was hearing. Were they going to can him over an allegation? He knew the allegations were true, but he had yet to be charged. He cut Behan's soft soap short.
He slammed his fist on the table and ignored the flame of pain up his arm. "Get to the point," he barked.
Simon Wood Page 18
