by Phil Edwards
He called Thompson. It was worth bothering him this time.
“Who is it?” Thompson growled. “I’m about to go have my steak.”
“It’s Jake.”
“Russo? Did you take my steak?”
A long laugh, as usual. Jake waited a few seconds.
“Listen. The story is bigger than I ever thought it would be.”
“She dyed her hair red?”
“What?”
“Melinda! Melinda Ginelli. Do you have a…a scoop for us?”
“I haven’t started your celebrity piece.”
“Russo! I need something soon.”
“I have something much bigger. Someone is out for my life, Thompson. I have the story on these environmentalists nailed down and ready to go. Tonight they tried to kill me, so I’m going to make sure they don’t get away with it. I’ll write it tonight. It’s huge news.”
“Russo, I want Melinda Ginelli.” He paused and laughed. “I want a story about her too!”
“I know, but this is more important.”
“No it’s not. Do you understand?”
“Thompson, listen. Will you do this?”
“You get me my story about Melinda Ginelli and I’ll be a happy man.”
“But will you print mine? About the group? The Saving Tomorrow Initiative?”
“We’ll talk about it when I see it.”
“Great.”
“And Russo, remember.”
“Remember what? To be careful? Make sure to document my sources?”
“Remember to…to ask Melinda about her favorite type of guy! You always forget the good stuff.”
“All right.”
It wasn’t perfect, but he had the go ahead. He opened his notebook and had started looking through his notes when Gary came in.
“Jacob, you can use this.”
He laid a shirt out on the desk. It was light blue and two sizes too small. Gary looked up and Jake held the shirt in front of him.
“Won’t this be a little…tight?”
“It won’t be tight. It’s fitted.”
“But you’re at least a foot shorter than I am.”
“I stoop. I have a cane.”
“Gary, come on.”
“Jacob, I’m surprised.”
“About what?”
“You have hair on your chest.”
“You didn’t think I’d have hair on my chest?”
“I don’t know, I just…”
“That’s enough. If this shirt rips, I’m not responsible.”
He grabbed the shirt and put it on. It wouldn’t rip in the back. But he had to leave the top two buttons undone. The collar flared out like he was going to a disco. If he’d worn his shirts like this before, Gary wouldn’t have been surprised that he had chest hair. Half his chest was still showing.
“Can I get you anything else?”
“Maybe tomorrow we could go back to my apartment. Would you mind coming with me? I’d just like to get some things.”
“Like what?”
“Clothes.”
“You can have as many as you want. I have many different styles.”
“Right.” The shirt sleeves pinched his arms. “Thank you.”
“Is there anything else?”
“No, I’m good. Thank you for taking me in. I know it seems sudden, but my rear view mirror was literally ripped off. I could have died.”
“Ah.” Gary sighed. “Street gangs.”
“No Gary, it wasn’t ‘street gangs.’ Remember, the Initiative chased me.”
“Oh, right.” He started to go walk the door then turned back to Jake. “I still don’t understand all of it.”
“He broke in to my place. And once they realized I’d figured out what happened to Charlotte, they wanted to kill me.”
“Right. But I don’t understand. Why didn’t they kill you before then?”
Jake laughed.
“Thanks.”
“But, Jacob, am I right in saying it does not make sense?”
“What doesn’t?”
“Why would they let you write a story that would ruin their group? A story that would ruin their reputation in the community?”
“I just think they are so delusional, they didn’t realize how bad they looked.”
Gary clicked his tongue against his teeth and shook his head again. He patted down his frizzed hair and looked like he was concentrating.
“Something doesn’t fit.”
Jake sighed.
“I know. But once we put the story out there, we’ll be fine.”
“Is that how you are supposed to do it?”
“In this case, we have to have the police do more. And with the Development Proposition vote so soon, they’ll be motivated to act quickly.”
“I just don’t know.”
“I know. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”
He started typing, drafting the outline of his story. He hadn’t written anything so serious in a long time. He felt his fingers tingle as he began to type, but Gary still stood at the doorway with his arms crossed.
“Just be careful Jacob. Make sure all the pieces come together.”
“I will.”
He still didn’t leave the garage.
“What about Sheryl?”
“What about her?”
“Why did Charlotte suspect her in all of this? And why did she give money to the Initiative?”
“I hate to say it, but Charlotte was wrong. She was obsessed with her silly bridge game.”
Gary shrugged, bringing his cane up two inches off the ground along with his shoulders.
“She wasn’t wrong before.”
“Well, she lost control. She became biased. Besides, you talked to Sheryl, right?”
Gary raised his fingers to his lips.
“Not so loud Jacob! Meryl has ears like a hawk!”
“Ears like a….never mind. Where is she?”
“Asleep.”
“Well anyway, you met with Sheryl, right?”
“I did. I think she’s a good person. But there must be some sort of reason Charlotte suspected her of being involved. And a reason she donated the money.”
“I think Charlotte just didn’t know.” He didn’t want it to be true. “She got involved with a group bigger and crazier than her. Something modern. Something she couldn’t understand.”
Gary finally went up the stairs. But before he closed the door, he turned back again.
“I think you’d be surprised what we people know.”
Jake was left alone in the room. He turned on the light. The red bulbs would have to do. The collage of Polaroids on the wall seemed to glow at their white bases. He looked at his laptop screen pulsing in the darkness and started to transcribe his notes from his notebook into the computer.
It didn’t come as easily as he’d thought it would. He blamed the light, but he couldn’t just punch the story out. Something seemed wrong. Unfinished. He stared at the red glow coming from the ceiling. He’d had a long day. It was time to call it a night. He’d go to his apartment the next day and then he’d be done. Things were as clear as they could be. He switched off the red light.
As he fell asleep on the cot, he noticed the white bottoms of the Polaroid pictures in the collage, and then he looked at Charlotte’s duck, which he’d set beneath them. He could barely make out the orange bill in the light. It was silly, he knew. But as he shut his eyes, he couldn’t help but think that the duck was frowning.
CHAPTER 44:
Gary liked to ride with the windows down.
“I like how it feels!” he shouted over the noise of the highway wind. His hair frizzed out around his head and Jake had to keep brushing his own hair back. It was a short drive to his apartment, and he had to admit the rush of air felt good. He was wearing another one of Gary’s shirts and had two buttons undone, the wind flapping against the wide collar. Gary was playing with the duck, unscrewing the neck and then screwing it back in.
; “It’s genius!” he shouted.
“It is clever.”
“What?”
“It’s clever.”
“What?”
“You can’t hear me over the wind.”
“It’s clever!” Gary shouted back.
They’d go to the apartment and get a few shirts and some pants. Then he’d go back to Gary’s garage and finish up his story. He’d be done by the middle of the day. They’d figure out what to do next, once he contacted the police. He probably had more driving ahead.
“Just so you know, after this, Thompson wants me to drive to Orlando.”
“What?”
He closed Gary’s window.
“Thompson wants me to drive to Orlando to write about Melinda Ginelli.”
“Who’s she?”
“I’m glad I’m not the only one who doesn’t know her. She’s a celebrity, apparently. She just moved down here, so I’m the only one here who could cover her.”
“They probably want pictures.”
“I guess so.” He hadn’t thought of that. They passed Sunset Cove beneath the highway. “I’ll ask Thompson when I get back. I’ll see if he wants you to come along.”
“Good.”
“It’s funny, Gary.”
“What?”
“I’ll be glad to work on a normal story. But after this…”
“It seems a little boring to write about.”
“Exactly.”
“I still haven’t taken any exciting photographs.”
“That’s true—Melinda Ginelli might be more interesting for you.”
“I can be a paparazzo!”
Jake laughed as the Palmstead whizzed by beneath them. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad—writing about famous people instead of trying to make news. Then he looked over at Gary. He was frowning.
“I hope it turns out OK.”
“So do I.”
They continued down the highway. It was a beautiful day at least. The sun was high in the sky and there weren’t any clouds. He could let himself enjoy it this time. He opened the windows again, now that he and Gary were done talking. Gary’s hair frizzed out immediately. Jake’s blew back, then to the side, and then in front of his face. He grabbed the wheel with both hands and watched the road. The sleeves on the borrowed shirt crept up past his elbows.
He turned on the windshield wipers. It was all there. Palm trees to the side. Heat blasting in. And giant bugs on the windshield. The water shot out and the wipers started pushing the bugs away. They’d all be washed off by the water and the wind. As he did it, he thought about his story. All this was being wiped away. Abram Samuels, Sheryl Goldfein, the Saving Tomorrow Initiative. Charlotte Ward, too.
They descended the ramp and after a few minutes pulled up to his apartment building’s lot. It seemed calm. Empty. He still asked Gary to come with him. They crept up the apartment stairs, Jake moving slowly so Gary could follow with his cane. The sound of the cane tapping on the stairs echoed over and over as they climbed to the second floor.
First, Jake stepped past his apartment and stood in front of Kaylie’s. The blinds were gone. He realized he’d never seen inside. Of course, its current condition didn’t give him any clues. The walls were empty and only a bare bed and dresser remained. He pressed his face against the window while Gary waited.
“Jacob, she’s gone.”
“I know. Let’s go inside and get my stuff.”
As he started to turn away from Kaylie’s apartment, he saw something move. A flash of blue. He looked back. Someone was inside.
“Stay right there.”
He knocked on the apartment door and waited outside. He braced himself for another attack. He looked at Gary, who had his cane pointing toward the door. He should have prepared better. They waited for the door to open.
But he didn’t need to worry.
The door opened and a man walked forward. He was wearing a light blue jumpsuit, too tight at the chest and too big at the legs. He looked up at Jake and started speaking in broken English.
“Hello, I help you?”
“Wait.” Jake stepped back. “I’ve met you before.”
“I am sorry?”
“Your name is Javier, isn’t it?”
“Yes, hello. What is your name?”
“What are you doing here?”
Gary rested his cane and Jake got out his notebook.
“I’m cleaning the apartment. Another person come in soon.”
“But why are you here? I met you at Sunset Cove.”
“I work here too.”
“A second job?”
“This is same job. I am maintenance for three different buildings for Mr. Rothschild.”
Jake put the notebook away and pulled at Gary’s arm. He followed Javier and asked another question.
“So all these buildings—they’re all owned by Mr. Rothschild?”
“Of course.”
“Is he on the lease?”
“Different name for the company. But it is his.”
Javier smiled and went back inside. Jake’s lease was inside his apartment, but he wasn’t going to risk getting it. He led Gary down the stairs with one hand and put his other hand on the rail. He realized he was sweating.
“Jacob, why are we going? Don’t you want your clothing?”
“Let’s hurry.”
They got in the car and Jake locked the doors. He brushed his hair back. Gary’s shirt felt even tighter.
“Jacob, I don’t understand. We should get your materials.”
“Don’t you see? Rothschild owns all the buildings.”
“He is very rich.”
“Can you hand me the duck?”
Gary took the duck and passed it over to Jake. He pressed his hands against the base and slowly unscrewed the top. The duck’s head twisted around and around and the neck came unscrewed. He looked in the remaining rear view mirror. No one was coming. He rolled the papers out on his lap and Gary craned his neck.
“What are you looking for?”
“Just a second.”
He’d been looking at the wrong pages all along. The call log, the journal—they were irrelevant. He held the final piece in his hand, the thing that made it all make sense. Gary held his glasses and leaned in.
“Are you looking at the bridge schedule?”
He was. He read each line, every day and week meticulously recorded on the page. He turned to Gary and shook his head.
“I can’t believe I didn’t realize.”
“Realize what?”
“Charlotte Ward was right. It all makes sense.” He turned the key in the ignition, shifted gears, and pressed his foot on the gas. “It was all about bridge.”
CHAPTER 45:
“I’m very busy,” Sheryl Goldfein said. She unfurled an aqua tablecloth and placed it on the table. “I have an important bridge game tonight.”
Jake got out his notebook.
“Oh, we know you have a game tonight.”
They’d driven to Sunset Cove as quickly as they could. Jake explained what he thought had happened and Gary nodded in agreement, offering the occasional refinement to the theory. As they pulled in the lot, they made sure nobody was watching. Even Melissa. They had to be secretive—they were on enemy territory in Sunset Cove. They looked at every passing walker with suspicion. When they entered the common room to see Sheryl, she glared at them.
Gary walked down the handicapped ramp, holding the rail with one hand and letting his cane tap out on the hollow sounding floor. Sheryl finished placing the tablecloths and put her hands on her hips.
“Ech, what is it? What do you want?”
“This is very serious. We want to confirm what happened to Charlotte. We think we finally understand.”
She looked confused.
“Have you gained weight?”
Jake looked down at his shirt. At the chest, it looked like it was about to rip apart. The tails furled out, nearly splitting.
“No, I haven’
t gained weight. Now Sheryl, we need to talk about this immediately.”
“It looks like you’ve gained weight.”
“It’s the shirt.”
“It’s a tight shirt.”
“It’s not mine. I borrowed it.”
Gary nodded.
“It’s not his!”
“Then whose is it?”
“It’s mine,” Gary said. “I let him borrow it.”
Sheryl leaned to the side and arched her eyebrows. She walked over to Gary and patted him on the shoulder.
“Now I understand. When you said you told me you had a ‘wife,’ I didn’t know this is what you meant. You know, you could have just told me. I’m a modern woman.”
“Jacob, what is she talking about?”
Sheryl laughed.
“Always traveling together, borrowing clothing. It finally makes sense. You two are cute together.”
Jake stepped to the side.
“Don’t listen to her. Sheryl, we’re not…that.”
Gary appeared outraged.
“Jacob, is she implying we own our own clothing company?”
“No, no. I’m afraid that’s not what she’s implying.”
They stood in a circle, silent. Then Jake coughed.
“We have real work to do.”
But before he could go on, he heard a sound come from the corner of the room.
“Are we alone here?”
“Well…”
Abram Samuels walked out from behind the corner.
“Abram? What are you doing here?”
“Hi Jake.” He tipped his red-brimmed hat. “I should have told you. Today, Sheryl and I finally…”
“Finally what?”
“Made love, Jake. We consummated our relationship and made love.”
Jake sighed and touched his fingers to his temples.
“You give me so much unnecessary detail, Abram. So much.”
“You can’t stand in the way of love. Or love-making.”
Jake looked over at Gary. His head was down and he looked a little disappointed. But he quickly recovered and gestured to both of them.
“I’m happy for you. But we need you to sit down, considering what we’ve found out.”
“I told you,” Sheryl said, “I have a bridge game.”
