Simon Wood

by Accidents Waiting to Happen

  Abby bounced up and down threatening to take off, restrained only by the hold of her mother's hand.

  "Where can we go?"

  Kate looked down at her daughter's beaming face and painfully smiled back. "Anywhere you want, honey."

  Abby led Kate through a merry dance of stores. Kate indulged Abby's every whim, letting her play with toys and try on clothes. Her daughter's energy warmed her.

  She found it easier to smile, to laugh, and be happy with every passing minute.

  In the food court, they sat surrounded by their purchases, the result of the day's indulgences. Although most of the bags were for Abby, she egged Kate on to splurge on herself. Armed with a hotdog and milkshake, Abby munched and slurped happily. Kate, with only a muffin and a latte, looked on in disbelief at her blissful daughter. She wouldn't normally let her daughter eat junk food, but today she let it slide.

  "Don't think you can live like this every day," Kate said. "Today is a special day, okay?"

  "Special? How?" Abby asked through hotdog-packed chipmunk cheeks.

  "Don't speak with your mouth full. And I hope you're not going to tell Wiener what you're eating."

  Abby shook her head and made an especially large swallow.

  Kate smiled. "It's a special day because we haven't had one in a while, so I thought we should have one.

  So, are you enjoying it?"

  Abby beamed. "You bet, Mom."

  "I thought we could catch a movie, but you can go to one more store before we go. So, where's it to be?"

  Kate cocked her head to one side.

  "The Disney Store," she said without a moment's hesitation.

  Kate nodded at the food. "Are you finished with that?"

  Abby made an extraordinarily large suck on the milkshake straw. "I am now."

  Kate couldn't help herself and laughed out loud and Abby joined in. "Let's go then," Kate said.

  Kate dumped Abby's half-eaten food and milkshake in the trash, but kept hold of her latte. Abby set off ahead at a half-running, half-walking pace toward the escalators for the Disney Store on the upper level. Kate told her daughter to slow down, which Abby did reluctantly.

  Mother and daughter hopped onto the empty moving staircase.

  Halfway up the escalator, Kate's good mood evaporated at the sight of a head emerging on the upper level. Resting on the top stair of the escalator, looking disembodied, the head smiled. The higher the escalator climbed the more Kate could see of the person waiting for them. Belinda Wong appeared to grow out of the ground. Kate twisted around to move against the moving staircase, but people had climbed on behind her. The last thing she wanted was to speak to this woman, but invisible hands pushed her forward against her will. Inexorably, the escalator drew Kate closer to the woman who was blackmailing her husband.

  Belinda

  leered as Kate stepped off the escalator with her daughter. The coldness in her dark eyes held a destructive element. Kate was sure the deadly force was intended for them. She was no match for Belinda armed with a multitude of store bags and a daughter.

  Kate's stomach made a complete revolution. Her grip around the cardboard coffee cup weakened and it almost slipped from her grasp.

  "Kate. Abby. I saw you down there and I thought I'd say hi," Bell said, as smooth as silk.

  "Hi, Bell," Abby said.

  "Hello, Belinda," Kate echoed.

  Kate didn't stop and proceeded toward the Disney Store, but Abby stopped her by choosing to stick by the blackmailer.

  "Come on, Abby. I thought you wanted the Disney Store. We don't have much time if we want to catch that movie." Kate tried not to sound too harsh, but failed to a large extent.

  "I was just going to talk for a minute, Mommy,"

  Abby pleaded.

  "I'll tell you what, I'll come along with you. I wanted to talk to you, Kate," Bell said.

  The suggestion sounded as palatable as cyanide, but Kate conceded at Abby's support of the request.

  The three walked in unison into the store. It was sickening for Kate to be this close to the woman, but she had to keep up appearances for the world and her daughter.

  "Hi, Mickey," Abby said and waved at the oversized mouse with its human occupant inside.

  The mouse waved back and stared longingly at the Asian woman's figure when she passed by.

  Dropping the bags to the floor, Abby ran over to the stuffed toy section.

  Bell took advantage of the moment alone with her ex-lover's wife. "Kate, I thought we'd chat about things--life, you know."

  "Belinda, we--"

  Bell interrupted with a raised hand. "Bell, please.

  We're all friends here, Kate."

  "Bell, we've got nothing to talk about."

  "Oh, I disagree, Kate. We have a lot in common."

  "Nothing you've got to say will be of interest to me," Kate said.

  "But I think it will."

  "I don't care what you think. Josh has told me all about you and your blackmailing scheme for the bribe.

  know it all. I suppose it's you who's been feeding Channel Three all the dirt."

  Bell raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You are well informed."

  "We

  have no secrets," Kate said.

  "I'm not so sure I would be that forgiving if I were you. You must be a very understanding woman. Far too good for a man like Josh."

  Containing her frustrations no longer, Kate stormed away toward her daughter. "Come on, Abby, it's time to go," she snapped.

  "Oh, Mom," Abby whined.

  "No, Abby. I said we're going. So let's go," Kate snapped.

  Abby relented with low-pitched mumbles. She picked up her bags and stormily strode out of the shop with her mother.

  "Stay away from us, Bell. We don't need you around,"

  Kate said, passing Bell on the way out. Kate sneered contemptuously at the Asian woman. Bell's pretense that they were friends and had something in common disgusted her.

  "You're a good woman, Kate. I don't know many women who would forgive their husband's infidelity,"

  Bell called loudly to Kate's back.

  Kate stopped and spun around in the entrance of the store, jerking Abby around with her, while the seven-foot cartoon mouse looked on behind them. Bewildered, Kate didn't know what Bell was talking about, but she was beginning to understand. Bell recognized the look of bewilderment on Kate's face and squeaked a laugh, clamping her hands over her mouth and bending forward in amusement. After a moment, she straightened and let her hands drop, the laughter knocked aside by spiteful rage.

  "So, you don't know I was fucking him for over a year?" she spat loudly and triumphantly.

  slack-jawed, Kate dropped the half-drunk latte.

  coffee exploded on impact and sent the hot li splashing over Kate's bare legs and feet, but she was too numb to feel it.

  "Oh, shit," Mickey Mouse said.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Family Stop Insurance Services was closed on Saturdays, but Bob Deuce opened up his office, not for business, but for his friend. Buying back Josh's viatical settlement from Pinnacle Investments was worth a try.

  Bob had little else to suggest.

  He sat at his desk and removed the papers from the envelope he'd taken to the diner. Leafing through the pages, he pulled out a printout from Pinnacle Investments's Web site. The page detailed the names of the important people for each of the company's divisions.

  He tapped his finger on the vice president in charge of the Viatical Settlement Division, Dexter Tyrell.

  "I'll start with you."

  Pinnacle Investments was open for business six days a week, so someone would be there. Bob hoped to speak to Dexter Tyrell, but he doubted he would be there on a Saturday. Mentally, he crossed his fingers for luck, picked up the phone and dialed the number listed.

  "Pinnacle Investments Viatical Settlements Division, your life is in our hands. My name is Julie," the receptionist said. "How can I assist you?"

  "Hi, I'd
like to speak to Dexter Tyrell, please."

  "Can I tell him who is calling?"

  "It's Bob Deuce, from Family Stop Insurance Services.

  I'm an agent for Pinnacle Investments."

  "I'll just see if he's available."

  Bob was put on hold and something from Easy Listening's Greatest Hits, Volume Umpteen, dripped down the phone line. The music ended.

  "Hello, Mr. Deuce. I'll just connect you," Julie said.

  Bob was in luck; Tyrell worked Saturdays.

  "Dexter Tyrell," the executive said, in a time-is money tone.

  "I'm Bob Deuce from Family Stop Insurance Services.

  I've acted as an agent for Pinnacle Investments in the past."

  "It's nice to speak to someone who creates business for us," Tyrell said condescendingly.

  "Well, Mr. Tyrell, I have a request from one of our clients."

  "Okay, Bob, fire away."

  Bob raised an eyebrow at Tyrell's use of his first name. Bob supposed Tyrell thought of him as one of the boys, being in the insurance game and all. The informality amused him. Tyrell seemed insincere, so Bob thought he'd be playful.

  "You see, it's like this, Dexter." Bob placed a lot of topspin on Tyrell's name. He smirked and paused.

  "Yes," Tyrell said, stretching the word out.

  "I have a client who made a viatical settlement eighteen months or so ago. And I'm inquiring whether it would be possible for him to reverse the settlement."

  Tyrell didn't answer. The question hung in the air, turning stale.

  I'm not sure that's possible, Bob." Tyrell seemed embarrassed by his unfortunate answer.

  "Any reason?"

  "Obviously, you understand the process of a viatical settlement."

  "Obviously."

  "Then, you understand the costs incurred by Pinnacle Investments with the cash settlement and the existing monthly dues, et cetera."

  "Yes."

  "It isn't in our interests to reverse the settlement."

  "My client would be prepared to return the cash remuneration and any other costs involved," Bob offered.

  "Why is our client doing this?"

  Bob shifted uncomfortably in his chair. His mind raced for an answer. "His financial circumstances have changed and he's interested in getting his life insurance policy back because of its sizeable face value."

  "How much?"

  "Five hundred thousand dollars." A nervous tone crept into Bob's voice. The source of his anxiety was clear. He had the distinct feeling he was conversing with a spider while he was the fly that trembled on the web.

  "Who is our client?"

  "His name is Joshua Michaels."

  A pregnant pause intervened, a pause in dire need of inducing.

  Does he know? Is he the one? In the silence of the telephone line Bob wondered if Tyrell was the man sanctioning the murder of his clients. Contact with this man frightened him. It made sense for the order to come from up high. It was unlikely a minion of Pinnacle Investments would have the corporate clout to order people's deaths. Also, it would be possible for a top executive to hide the excessive expenses needed to hire a professional killer. Chipped ice ran down Bob's collar; Tyrell knew his name.

  "I don't remember his file,"--Tyrell paused again--

  "but I don't think I can accommodate your friend this time around."

  Bob's mouth went dry. Friend? Who said Josh was my friend? The insinuation Tyrell knew Bob and Josh were friends only reinforced his fear that Pinnacle Investments's vice president was killing his viatical clients. Bob couldn't be sure whether Tyrell was aware of his slip or not. Either way, he was scared.

  Tyrell continued. "Even if he did reimburse Pinnacle Investments for monies paid, it wouldn't provide the company a return on its investment. We do have investors to think about. As you can understand, we are a profit-making organization, not a charity."

  "Thank you for your time, Dexter."

  "Thank you for your call. And I hope we can do business again. On behalf of Pinnacle Investments, we do appreciate the business we receive from our agents.

  Good-bye Bob, it's been a pleasure."

  Bob had only seconds to decide. He knew a killer pursued Josh. He knew it was more than likely someone at Pinnacle Investments was at the heart of it. He had the feeling Dexter Tyrell was the man giving that order. But he couldn't be sure--it was all supposition.

  In a moment, the connection would be broken and contact lost and it was unlikely Tyrell would take further calls. Should he bluff Tyrell and risk his own life?

  He couldn't hesitate any longer.

  "I know what you're up to, Mr. Tyrell." Bob's voice trembled. He had just stepped into the ring and sized up the opposition. He feared his decision and hoped it was the right one.

  "What do you know, Bob?"

  Tyrell's coldness trickled down the line and Bob shivered.

  "I know what you're doing to your clients."

  "Providing them with first-class service at reasonable prices?" Tyrell mocked.

  Bob composed himself before asking the five hundred thousand dollar question. "You're killing your viatical clients, aren't you?"

  Tyrell roared with laughter. "Bob, Bob, Bob, where did you come up with that cock-and-bull story? The X-Files} Or Days of Our Lives maybe?"

  Instead of being embarrassed by Tyrell's mockery, Bob took strength from it. The evidence to support his belief was in front of him and what he and Josh knew made a compelling story, even if it was all circumstantial.

  He took a deep breath and let the executive have it, both barrels.

  "Pinnacle Investments is the most successful viatical company in the industry." Tyrell tried to interrupt, but Bob spoke over the vice president. "You are the only successful viatical company in the industry, especially with an AIDS client base as big as yours. AIDS

  patients are living longer. Yours are dying quicker. So are your other clients. A number of my colleagues have had their viatical clients with Pinnacle Investments die from unusual accidents, just as their health improved."

  "This sounds like a crank call to me. I'm putting the phone down," Tyrell said.

  "I think your next two targets are Josh Michaels and Margaret Macey. Both of them are my clients, Mr.

  Tyrell." Bob said Tyrell's name like he chewed sour lemons. "And Margaret Macey is dead."

  Bob had nothing left to say. He waited for Tyrell to respond. He didn't.

  "Dexter, I don't hear you putting that phone down,"

  Bob said.

  Dexter Tyrell said nothing.

  Bob felt he was on a roll. He'd rattled Tyrell. The executive would be weighing his options. Bob decided to push until he left Tyrell no option. "There is a man passing himself off as an employee of Pinnacle Investments called James Mitchell. I think he's your hired gun."

  "What do you want?" Tyrell asked.

  "I want you to stop."

  "What if I don't?"

  "I'll go to the cops."

  "With what you've got?" Tyrell snorted. "They'll laugh you out of the precinct or lock you up."

  "Maybe, but I'll give them enough to make someone look into Pinnacle Investments's operations, and that wouldn't be good for business, would it now?" Bob smiled.

  Tyrell was silent for a very long time. Bob was happy to wait. He could almost hear Tyrell squirm.

  "I have an offer to make to you, Bob."

  Bob listened.

  Josh returned home after his breakfast with Bob and found no one home. He kept playing over Bob's theories in his head. Would Pinnacle go for the buyback option?

  He hoped so. He waited for Bob's call, but it didn't come. He tried calling, but Bob didn't pick up.

  He couldn't just sit there. He had to do something with himself. He decided to indulge in something he had not done in ages--climbing. Bob's mention of his old hobby had a nice ring to it. Josh dug his gear out from his home office. The kit, ten years old or more, was very much out of date compared to the modern lightweight r
igs people now used. He drove down to the indoor climbing center and knocked the rust off his old skills. He found he was better off using the equipment provided at the center.

  After ten minutes, Josh was back in the fold; no hint of staleness showed after his eightyear absence. As the hours shot by, Josh went from their basic climbs to the most difficult, conquering each level with great aplomb.

  Amazed, he couldn't understand why he had not gone to an indoor center before. The risk was so minimal he was sure Kate wouldn't have minded. But even with this brief taste, he knew if he came here regularly he would end up wanting to hit the mountains for the real climbs. Yosemite was too much of a temptation to be ignored.

  He came home in a good mood. It had been a good day. He parked next to Kate's minivan. Kit bag over his shoulder, Josh unlocked the door to the house and pushed it open. The door opened only a few inches before bouncing off the security chain. The door's recoil knocked the keys out of his hand and he jumped back before the charging door took a finger or a toe as a trophy.

  "Kate, it's me. The chain's on, can you take it off?"

  Josh called through the crack of the door and picked up his keys.

  No one answered.

  Fear rushed through him. Had Mitchell tried something?

  "Kate,

  are you there? Is everything okay?"

  "Josh, you aren't coming in."

  Fear turned into confusion. "What?"

  "You're not welcome here anymore." Kate's voice cracked under her tears.

  Josh peered through the gap the door allowed. He couldn't see Kate.

  "What's wrong? Let me in."

  Kate broke into sobs, which were echoed by someone Josh presumed was Abby. Kate spoke to Abby, but he couldn't hear what she said.

  "Just go. Please, Josh, go away."

  His stomach clenched. A vivid recollection of the events at Margaret Macey's house struck him between the eyes. But this was his house, his family. He wouldn't be kept out of his own home.

  "Don't panic, I'm coming round the back," he paused. "Okay?"

  For a moment, Josh waited for a response and heard only stifled weeping. He raced over to the gate to get to the backyard, but it was locked. He dropped his kit bag and clambered over the top. He glimpsed a neighbor across the road watching the real-life soap opera unfold; but he didn't give his neighbor a second thought.