Five in a Row

by Jan Coffey

  Gina’s voice brought him back to earth. “What about tampering?”

  Adam went back inside, got a beer out of the minibar, and dragged a chair out onto the balcony. “The accident happened this past July, so the car is already gone, but I spent the morning with the mechanic who’d gone over it with the technician sent out from Detroit. He’d kept excellent paperwork on what they’d looked at, and they were very thorough. Signs of tampering was at the top of their list, but nothing.” He sat down, peeled off his socks, and put his feet up on the railing. “There was nothing suspicious on the mechanical side.”

  “That doesn’t help us much,” she said.

  Adam could hear the sound of Gina’s kids laughing in the background, and then a door closing off the noise. He couldn’t even imagine how she could balance the pressures of the work with raising a family. Granted, her kids seemed to be ideal little guys, but they didn’t get that way without hard work. His own sister could take a lesson or two from Gina. That house operated on a decibel level that made Grand Central Station sound like a library.

  “How about the driver?” Gina asked.

  “I drove out and spoke to her at her retirement home just north of San Diego, and—”

  “She lives in a home?”

  “That’s right. She’ll be eighty-one in November.”

  “But she wasn’t hurt.”

  “No. She was a little shaken up, but that’s all. I don’t think she’s ready to leap behind the wheel again right away, though. And I think that suits her son just fine. He owns the car and she drives it…or, drove it, anyway. He came out for the meeting. He’s a building contractor in Spring Valley, the next town over.”

  “They had no problem talking to you?”

  “Come on, Gina, who has a problem talking to me?”

  “Right. Sorry. I forgot to whom I was speaking. So, what was their story.”

  “Same as what you told me about the case in New York. The car just took over. She said that she’d just made the turn into a long driveway that led into the church parking lot, and all of a sudden she had no control. The next thing she knew, she was hanging on to the wheel and the vehicle had jumped a curb. She took down a little statue, tore up some shrubs and slammed into the side of the church social hall.”

  “My God! That poor woman,” Gina said softly. “Is it possible that she had a stroke, or blacked out before the accident?”

  “The insurance company claims people tried to push that possibility. But nothing in her medical checkup afterward supported it.”

  “So what were the damages?”

  “The car was totaled, and the church property sustained pretty good damage.”

  “Did you see the pictures?”

  “I did, but I also wanted to see the driveway in person.” Adam took another swig off the bottle. “So I stopped by the church.”

  “How nice,” Gina teased. “A not-so-devout Jewish boy from New York going to church.”

  “I know.” He grinned into the phone. “I can hear my mother already.”

  “And I will be on the phone to her after we hang up.”

  “I don’t think so, Gina.” He grew serious. “Most of the damage is still there. But, honest to God, she was lucky she wasn’t killed. She put the nose of that car through a brick wall. The side of that building could have come right down on top of her.”

  “That’s horrible.”

  “From what they told me, they’re not putting in a claim with the insurance because the son is doing the repairs on the church. And the old lady is worried about the state taking away her license. Frankly, I’m not sure the son is totally convinced that his mother wasn’t really at fault.”

  “And the church is happy with that.”

  “I got the distinct feeling that because of the kind of money she was already planning on leaving the parish in her estate, everyone is happy.”

  “So you’re putting that one down as operator error?”

  “I’m still fifty-fifty on it. I’ll make that call once we put the whole thing together,” Adam said. He already knew what Gina had covered in Albany, New York. The accident there had happened twenty-one months ago. The first of the five. A mound of paperwork was the only thing she’d been able to put her hands on. That and a personal interview with the driver, who just preferred to forget that crazy day. His exact phrasing was that “the car suddenly had a mind of its own.” And there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.

  “Are you all done with the Providence incident?” Adam asked.

  “Not yet. I’m still waiting for some reports to get faxed to me.”

  “Taking it easy, I see,” Adam teased. “I have jet lag from flying coast to coast to coast in three days and you’re strolling through two easy assignments?”

  “Cut the crap. The darn accident happened in the lot of a car dealership. I had to listen to three guys who could not say anything simply. Everything was a big song and dance.”

  “Hey, you’re probably lucky you escaped without buying a new car.”

  “What makes you think I did?” she answered. “Hold on a second.”

  Adam heard the muffled sound of instructions being directed at one of Gina’s sons, who must have opened the door.

  Waiting for her, he stood up and leaned on the railing as a trio of young women came out of the hotel and crossed the pool deck. They were in bathing suits with gauzy wraps around their hips that swayed as they walked. When they dropped anchor in some lounge chairs next to the pool, Adam was ready for a dip himself.

  “Sorry,” Gina said. “I’m back.”

  Adam turned his chair so that he had a better view of the pool and sat down again.

  “As you know, the accident happened back in June. The car was taken out for a test drive, but it never made it out of the lot. It made a U-turn at high speed and ended up crashing through the plate glass wall of the showroom. Most of the eyewitnesses, including the salesman who was in the car with the driver, swear that the vehicle took over. The four people I spoke to, two of whom were in the showroom, all described it as some kind of stunt maneuver you’d see in the movies or on TV. Totally unreal.”

  “No eighty-one-year-old driving that one?” Adam asked.

  “No. A repeat customer,” Gina explained. “A car insurance salesman, of all people, with a perfect driving record.”

  “Extent of the injuries?”

  “Cuts and bruises on both the driver and the passenger. Amazingly enough, no fatalities.”

  “Huh.” Two of the women were going in the water.

  “Anyway, Ben wants us all to meet in Connecticut on Monday afternoon. Can you put your data together and get up there on time?”

  “I’ll try. That’s if I can get past the red tape and get in to see our celebrity boy.” The founder of a rogue Internet music download site was the victim of the fourth car accident. It had happened here in Miami last month. The poor bastard had lost control of his sports car and the thing jumped off a pier and flipped end over end into a yacht docked there. Never mind the two hundred grand for the car and even more for the damage to the boat, the dot-com millionaire was lucky to be alive.

  And that boy had lawyers lined up to handle his case.

  “You told me yourself. No one can refuse you.”

  “I was talking about women.”

  “Then it’s about time you tried out some of that charm on your own sex.” He could hear her smiling. “Who knows, you might even like it.”

  “I think we won’t go there, counselor.” Adam let her attempt to get a rise out of him pass and focused again on business. “I’m having the copies of all the diagnostic tests Detroit conducted after the accidents shipped to us over the weekend in New York. Can you bring them with you to Connecticut?”

  “Sure can. You need anything else?” she asked.

  “Well, there’s a blonde down next to the pool with a couple of friends of hers. If you want to let them know there’s a great guy about to join them…”

&n
bsp; “Very funny. Well, I’ve still got work to do and my two little angels are ready for dinner, so you’re on your own with the blonde and her friends.”

  “Okay. Give the kids a hug for me.”

  “Will do. Call me tomorrow after you’ve seen the vehicle.”

  As Adam hung up, he looked out at the high-rises of Miami and took another swallow of his beer. He loved his job, and he loved the freedom it gave him. Still, he wondered sometimes, hearing those kids laughing, thinking about tucking them in, if he was missing something.

  “Nah,” he said out loud, standing up. After all, he could’ve been stuck in some Connecticut hick town this weekend. Like Ben. Or worse…with Ben.

  No, tired or not, he was going for a swim. And whether she knew it or not, there was a blonde down there just waiting for him.

  Six

  The ceiling, the walls, the floor and the furnishings of the hospital waiting area all blended together in a blur of gray and green and off-white. The pictures on the wall were simply reflections of the same muted tones. Nothing too bright, nothing distinctive.

  Emily leaned back in the velour-covered chair. The air didn’t smell the way she remembered hospitals used to smell, all alcohol and floor wax. It occurred to her that if you tried to describe the smell of this hospital, you’d have to use the same terms that you used for the walls. All muted and gray-green. No doubt intended to instill a sense of calm in those who were waiting while the lives of their loved ones hung by a wire…or slipped away. All to try to soothe the nerves of people who had good reason to be far from calm.

  Jake Peterson’s grandfather had come with the teenager to greet Emily and Conor in the waiting area, and the two boys immediately huddled in one corner. Emily and the elderly gentleman sat down, as well. She murmured a few words of sympathy, but then soon ran out of things to say. She hardly knew the Petersons, but that didn’t lessen how sorry she was about what had happened to this family. One day, they were together and healthy. The next, disaster had changed their lives entirely.

  As Emily sat with Jake’s grandfather, trying to keep up some semblance of small talk, the clipping she’d received in the mail kept cropping up in her mind. The nagging feeling that something was wrong skirted the edges of her consciousness. Conor had told her he’d mentioned the reason for Emily’s tardiness on Monday night when he’d logged in to the chat room. But there couldn’t be a relation, she told herself for the hundredth time. Her “fan” was only trying to warn her about what could happen when you were running late and speeding.

  The rumors were running rampant around town about what exactly had happened. The faculty parking lot at the high school was not too big. Even if he’d tried, it seemed unreal that Scott Peterson could have built up that kind of speed. That night, Emily had sat with hundreds of parents, listening to him go on in detail about his plans for this academic year. His speech was clear, his performance sharp. How, an hour later, he could have crashed head-on into that bulldozer with enough force to total the car was a question that no one seemed to be able to answer.

  “I’ll be online later, Jake. Message me when you get home.”

  “Okay.”

  The two boys were on their feet. Emily smiled at the grandfather and pushed up from her chair, as well.

  “If you ever need a place for Jake to stay…” she offered, shaking his hand. “Or if I can take him back and forth from the hospital to school. Seriously, anything.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Doyle,” the older man said quietly. “He didn’t feel much like going to school this past week, and we aren’t pushing him. We’ll see what next week brings.”

  Emily glanced at Jake’s pale face. This was a lot for a fourteen-year-old to go through. His grandfather had mentioned that Jill’s condition was still tenuous. The longer she stayed in the coma, he said, the less hope there was for recovery, if any. Scott Peterson, though, was at the point now where he was accepting some visitors. At least, that was something to give the teenager hope in the days ahead.

  Emily and Conor moved silently down the hallway. There wasn’t much she felt like saying. No lessons to convey that Conor hadn’t already noticed by himself. Life was too fragile, and you had to appreciate and take each day as it came. Her son had heard that one too often.

  The elevator door opened just as Conor hit the button, and Emily turned as someone came down the hall toward them. She was surprised to see Ben Colter, but even more surprised at the feeling of warmth rising into her face. For his part, he smiled at her as he stepped through the doors.

  “I’m not following you around,” he said quietly. “I swear.”

  Emily searched around for her voice. After their meeting this afternoon, she’d dug up his letter. The employment offer from Colter Associates had been absolutely the best package she’d received, ever. As a result she’d saved it, for the times when she might need a private ego boost, if nothing else. She’d then spent over an hour online reading whatever she could put her hands on about Ben Colter and his company.

  “We live in a small state, Mr. Colter,” she said finally.

  “Ben,” he said. “If you don’t mind.”

  He looked at Conor. “And you must be the genius son that your mom talks about so much.”

  The grin on Conor’s face was priceless. Emily made a quick introduction and in a few words explained her connection with Ben Colter. They reached the hospital lobby way too soon.

  “Your mom keeps rejecting my job offers, but maybe you might be interested in some kind of internship or summer job.” They stepped out of the elevator, and Ben met her warning glare. He smiled at her. “The secret in this field is to recruit them early. I’m sure you’d still be working for me if I’d signed you on right out of grad school.”

  “No, she wouldn’t,” Conor cut in. “Back then, she wouldn’t go anywhere except where my dad was going.”

  Emily didn’t remember talking to Conor about any of this, but he and David spoke on the phone and e-mailed regularly. They also spent two weeks together every summer. She had no way of knowing everything that they discussed.

  “About that job offer,” the teenager pressed as the three made their way toward the hospital exit. “What’s the pay like and what would I have to do?”

  Emily lifted a warning finger at Ben Colter as they stepped outside. “Don’t even think about it.”

  “Mom!” Conor drawled.

  She knew any amount of money he would quote would be substantially more than anything Conor could make delivering newspapers in little Wickfield. Even in jest, she didn’t want to inflate her son’s expectations. And frankly, she didn’t want him thinking less of the way she’d chosen to live.

  Ben raised both hands and shook his head at her son. “I have to follow the boss’s orders. She’s the big fish I’ve been trying to land for months.”

  Conor looked proudly at Emily and then turned back to Colter. “Where are your offices, anyway?”

  “The home office is in New York City.”

  “Cool! I love the city.” He turned confidentially to the other man. “She hates traffic and driving long distances. That’s probably why she didn’t take your offer.”

  “I can make other arrangements. We’re not a forty-hour-a-week, behind-the-desk kind of operation.”

  “That’s good.” The wheels were clearly turning in Conor’s head. “So, is there a fee for getting her to agree to sign on? You know, my dad was explaining to me that’s the way these headhunters make their money. Maybe I can act as the headhunter here, and—”

  “Will you two stop talking about me like I’m not even here?” Emily complained.

  The conversation stopped, but there were looks passed between the two of them. She ignored it, trying not to smile. This was the kind of adolescent-adult, male bonding stuff that she couldn’t give Conor.

  The three of them stood under a light in the middle of the hospital parking lot. It was already half past seven, and they still had to get something to eat. Emily had
planned on working for a couple of hours tonight on an article for a computer periodical. The darn thing was due next Friday.

  A sudden feeling of discomfort made Emily look over her shoulder. They were being watched. The sensation was too strong. She felt it deep in her bones. Emily looked across the lot at the lines of parked cars. In the deepening darkness, she could see no one. No engines were running. The bright streetlights above created large areas of light and dark in the parking lot.

  “Are you okay, Mom?” the teenager asked, coming around to her.

  She placed both of her hands on Conor’s shoulders and turned him to the direction of their car. “We have to go. It was really nice seeing you again, Mr. Colter.”

  “Same goes for me.”

  A sharp whistle escaped the teenager’s lips. Emily tried to follow the direction of his gaze. He was staring in obvious awe at a car not far from where their own vehicle was parked.

  “An Aston Martin DB7 Volante. Can you believe it, Mom? This is the first one I’ve ever seen in person.”

  “Can you see a car in person?” she asked vaguely.

  Moving like a zombie, he started in that direction. Emily fell in step with him, and she realized Colter was walking with them, too. She glanced again out at the cars in the parking lot.

  “Do you know much about that car?” Ben was asking Conor.

  “You shouldn’t have asked,” Emily warned, turning her attention back to them.

  Conor immediately launched into a recital of the history of Aston Martin from the 1950s and ’60s, finishing up with a qualitative analysis of the DB7’s role in the company today. Conor’s knowledge of the car was very impressive, and not surprising to Emily. She knew the kind of attention and commitment Conor gave to anything that he felt passionate about.

  “Other boys get into Harry Potter and Brian Jacques books. My son likes to read spec sheets for high-performance sports cars,” Emily told Ben as Conor approached the automobile, continuing to talk.

  “This one has an all-alloy quad cam, forty-eight valve, sixty-degree V12 engine.”

  Emily quickly grabbed her son by the back of his jacket when he tried to get close enough to touch the car. “Don’t touch it. You can only look.”