by S. D. Thames
“She has a point. You look rough.”
Ed shook his head. “I don’t think so. I say it’s more likely to kill you.”
“There you go again, Ed. I treat you to lunch. You treat me to death threats.”
“I’m sober today,” Ed said.
“Me too.”
“I made myself sober to meet you. Last few hearings, I wasn’t sober. If you see me again, and I’ve been drinking, you should just leave.”
David picked up the check. “How about I pick up the tab, and you promise you’ll refrain from trying to kill me?”
Ed chewed his food and focused his gaze right on David’s eyes. He slowly shook his head. “No promises.”
David floored the Saab out of the Waffle House parking lot and headed south toward downtown. The prospect of returning to the office to wait for Frank’s call did not sit well, so he called Katherine on his BlackBerry.
“Any update?” he asked.
“He got back about an hour ago,” she answered.
“I’m on my way.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“I’ll leave you out of it.”
She was hesitant. “In that case, come by my office first.”
David parked the Saab along the curb outside Katherine’s office, right behind a black Acura parked in a spot reserved for customers. He figured Katherine was meeting with another bargain hunter who was likely to pass on inflated prices. Frankly, David was beginning to doubt whether Katherine was a very good salesperson, and he’d rather not see her strike out. After waiting what seemed five minutes, he decided maybe she was making progress after all. So, he entered the sales office but saw no one. “Hello?”
He heard the faint sound of conversation in another room. He called for her again. Finally, shadows emerged from the rear hallway. A man appeared in the office, followed by Katherine. He spotted David, and then said something to Katherine. She covered her mouth so David couldn’t see her response. The man got closer, and David recognized him: the same Dick Butkus who’d been pestering Katherine on New Year’s. David got another look at his gray and blue eye and nodded. This time, the linebacker avoided eye contact.
After he was gone, David cornered Katherine. “Something tells me he’s not buying a condo.”
She stood still, trying to regain her composure. Fear welled in her eyes. “I need you to promise me you won’t mention him to Frank.”
“Why don’t you tell me who he is already?”
“I can’t do that.”
“Where is Frank? You said he was back.”
“I lied, David. I needed to talk to you. And not on the phone.”
Katherine strode to her desk and pulled open the top drawer. “I received this today.” She handed a document to David.
He skimmed it and looked up. “It’s a forbearance agreement. It means they won’t foreclose if Frank signs this and makes payments to catch up the debt. Who sent this to you?”
Katherine leaned over and clicked open an email. “This guy. He’s the loan specialist we’ve worked with since before construction.”
David scanned the email. He saw that Justin Baxter was copied on the email. “Have you read the agreement?”
“Of course I have. I don’t think we can sign it.”
David started from the beginning of the agreement and read it carefully. “Why not?”
“First of all, the prices aren’t low enough. We’d have to sell the units at 2005 prices just to get the bank’s mortgage released on each one. They know we can’t do that.”
“Anything else?” David asked.
“Yeah, the escrow deposits. We have to represent the precise amounts of the escrows and where they are located. Why would they want us to do that?”
“For one thing, those deposits are part of their collateral. For another, I’m sure they’ve seen some of the allegations in the lawsuits with the purchasers. They’re probably just looking for some assurance. What do you know about the escrow deposits?”
“Just what you know. That it’s a touchy subject with Frank.”
He sensed Katherine wasn’t telling all she knew. “You know where they’re held?”
“I just know a company called Xerxes Capital is supposed to be holding about ten million dollars. Frank handles the rest.”
David closed the agreement and handed it back to Katherine. “Frank can’t sign this.”
Katherine sighed and returned the agreement to the desk drawer. “I don’t get it. Why would he even consider it? This place is supposed to be his pride and joy. Instead, it’s like he’s ready to turn it over to the bank.”
“He might not have a choice.”
“Do you think we do?”
“I think we can handle it better than we are.”
“Will you talk to Frank about it?”
David nodded. “Tell me when he’s back.”
There was still fear in her eyes—fear that David doubted was caused by the thought of Meridian Bank foreclosing. “I will,” she said.
David returned to his car and saw a missed call on the BlackBerry. He smiled when he saw the number. He dialed it back.
“I saw I missed your call,” he said when Beth answered.
“Pick me up at six thirty. And please—”
“God forbid you be a little late.”
“Some people appreciate punctuality.”
“Beth?” David said.
“Yes?”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
She paused. “Please don’t be late,” she said before hanging up.
He found Beth’s address and pulled into a driveway outside a small stucco home in a suburb ten minutes north of downtown. Not the kind of place he would’ve imagined Beth—or any lawyer under forty—would live. He double-checked the address and confirmed it was the right one. As soon as he hopped out of the car, Beth rushed out of the house with her head down. She wore the same kind of dark business suit David pictured her wearing to work at the DOJ.
“What’s the rush?” he asked.
“You’re late.” She pulled on the passenger door but it was locked.
“We’ll be there at ten after seven. We’ll probably beat the judge.”
David turned to unlock the door and accidentally bumped his head on hers.
“Have you been drinking?” she asked.
“Just a little.”
“Please promise me you won’t overdo it tonight.”
“We haven’t gone out in nine years. Please promise me you don’t doubt me. I’m older and wiser now.”
Her hue reddened. “Why’d you have to drink already?”
“I was nervous.”
“Nervous about what?”
He did his best to blush. “Spending time with you.” Then he opened the door, not quite enough for her to get in the car, and stared at her. “Can I be honest with you about something?”
“What?” She took a small step back.
“I’m going to kiss you tonight.”
She rolled her eyes and sighed.
“I just want to get that out there. I don’t know when or how.”
“Thanks for the warning.”
He stepped in front of her. “I guess I could just get it over with now.”
“Sorry, David, but I have a bad cold. It’s very contagious.”
“I never get sick.”
“Plus, you have bad breath. Very bad breath.” She fanned the air, ducked under and through David’s arms, and fell into the passenger seat.
He pushed the door shut behind her. Then he cupped his hand over his mouth, blew a deep breath, and inhaled a whiff. He smelled nothing but jasmine blooming in the humid evening air and reclaimed water fueling the nearby sprinklers.
Half an hour later he followed her through the crowd of stately and self-important people. After a few minutes he realized he didn’t really know anyone here, likely because he was neither stately nor important.
“So why me?” he asked her.
The
question seemed to catch her off guard. “Why you what?”
“Why’d you ask me to come tonight? Why not someone from work, or a guy from a bar.”
“Because I didn’t want to go with a guy from work, and I don’t go to bars.”
He took her hand and held it. “What do you think about that?”
She tugged her hand, not nearly hard enough to free it. “It’s okay.”
“Does this embarrass you?” he asked.
“A little.”
“Do you like it at all?”
“A little.” Then she yanked her hand away. “What are we, in high school?”
“Did you like high school?”
“Didn’t we have this conversation in law school?”
“Probably,” David said, grinning at a passerby who threw him a fake smile. Then he realized Beth was smiling too, and she was about ready to laugh. “What’s so funny?”
“I just remembered we did have this conversation in law school. You told me about your experience at the prom.” There was no holding back the laughter now. “Your first experience with E-D.”
“Quiet,” David said, looking in every direction. “I made that up so you’d trust me.”
Beth covered her mouth and tried to smile politely.
“Come on, Beth. You ever know me to have a problem with that?”
She laughed louder.
“You know too much about me,” he said.
She managed to stop the laughter enough to say, “Funny, most days I needed a password to know what you wanted for dinner.” She scanned the ballroom again.
He took her arm. “I love hearing you laugh,” he whispered. “Even if you’re making fun of me.”
“He’s here,” Beth said, pointing to Judge Cox making his way through the main entrance. Mild applause greeted him.
“Damn it,” David muttered.
“What?” she asked.
“I should have just kissed you. It would have been perfect.”
She sighed. “Let’s get this over with.”
“The kiss?”
“No.” She nodded toward the judge. “Our congratulations.”
“I’m not going to congratulate him.”
“What?”
David recalled Judge Cox’s repeated threats to sanction him during the Savage trial. “I think he wants me disbarred. You don’t want him to see me with you.”
Beth grinned. “Then I’m really glad you didn’t kiss me.” She smiled and blew David a furtive little kiss, and strutted away.
David found the bar and ordered a martini. “Something for a change.” He took the drink in hand and turned around to watch the show. He zoned in on the coterie surrounding Judge Cox: a bunch of tools lavishing the judge with praise. Cox had given his signature thick glasses the night off, apparently opting for contacts. His brown plaid suit had probably been tailored when Carter was president. At least it still fit.
David scanned the room for Beth. He didn’t see her, but he did see Alton and Mackenzie make their grand entrance. So, he played a game and imagined there was a magnetic force. If Alton and Mackenzie stepped in one direction, he had to step in the other. All the while, he was trying to find Beth. And getting dizzy. And maybe just a little buzzed. Every other woman here could pass for her from behind, but none were half as pretty from the front.
After he’d circled the entire ballroom, he began to wonder whether she might have snuck outside, maybe for some fresh air … maybe with someone else. Having lost his bearings in the crowded room, he turned to find himself face-to-face with Judge Cox, who was being congratulated by none other than A.U.S.A. Beth Conner. She saw David and stepped aside just enough to give him room to join the conversation.
“Judge, I know you know my friend David Friedman,” she said.
The sight of David seemingly killed the judge’s buzz. “Mr. Friedman.” He barely nodded.
“Congratulations, Your Honor.”
The judge raised his nose and leaned about twenty degrees toward David. “I trust you’ve taken my advice to heart since I saw you last?”
“Of course I have, Your Honor.” David did his best not to roll his eyes.
“What’s that about?” Beth whispered to David.
“Ethics,” he whispered back.
The judge pushed David aside. “Anyway,” he said to Beth. “I can’t wait to get a criminal docket back. How long have you been with the US Attorney’s office?”
“Not long,” she said. “I moved here from Main Justice.”
The judge nodded, very impressed. “Well, I look forward to seeing you in court.” Then he glared at David, like he was purposefully not sending any love his way.
A new tool appeared and grabbed the judge’s sleeve. “Hey, Judge, can you tell that story about your first trial again?”
“You mean the one where I ripped my pants?”
“Yeah, that one!” The tool laughed, and the other tools followed.
Just as the laughter swelled, Alton and Mackenzie walked up. “Are you telling stories about us again,” Alton whispered to David.
“No, Alton. They’re laughing, not puking.”
Alton’s face turned stern. “Lighten up, asshole. Enjoy the show while you can.”
Mackenzie pushed past David and the tools and grabbed the judge’s hand and shook it a little too quickly. “Judge Cox, Mackenzie Alderman with Hollis & Alderman. On behalf of our firm, we wish you the sincerest of congratulations.”
“Thank you.” Judge Cox tried to reel in his hand. No sooner had he retrieved it than it was being squeezed by Alton.
“Yes, Judge. I know our litigators will miss seeing you as frequently in circuit court. We wish you the best in your new appointment.”
David glanced back and saw Beth nodding at him with a smirk on her face. She pointed at her watch to remind him of the time. He blew her a kiss back. She put her hand up to block it and then waved at him and gave him the naughty finger.
Without saying good-bye to the judge or his employers, David drifted back into the crowd, trying to follow Beth while staying hidden from her. The more time he spent around her, and the longer he saw her, the more he wondered why he’d ever let her go. He let her lose him in the crowd so he could grab another drink and start the hunt over.
When he found her again, her back was facing him. It looked like she was standing alone, looking down at something. Maybe reading a work email. He approached her from behind. This is it, he told himself. He was going to kiss her now, before the night got away from them. He reached her and touched her shoulder. He wanted her to turn right into his lips.
Instead, she slowly turned, fighting tears. She closed an email on her BlackBerry and put it away.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Can we go now?”
They hadn’t spoken a word since they left, and they were already a mile from Beth’s. This was precisely the way he did not want the night to end, and precisely why he’d wanted to kiss her at the beginning. He considered music, something romantic. Freddie King’s “Have You Ever Loved a Woman” would do the trick.
“I thought it was a nice ceremony.” He waited, but she didn’t respond. “Meeting the US Attorney was the highlight. He doesn’t deserve the rap he gets.”
She prefaced her speech with a sigh. “My divorce is final. As of today. I lost track of time and forgot the final hearing was today. I don’t really feel like … .” She sighed again.
David pulled into the driveway and parked. “I’m sorry I haven’t been more sensitive to that. To be honest, it’s felt like you were already divorced.”
“It’s just a tough time, David.”
“I understand.” He glanced at the house. “Want me to walk you in?”
“My mom’s sleeping.”
“Your mom?”
“I’m staying with her. She’s not good.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“You knew I was from Fort Gaspar.”
David shook his he
ad. He didn’t know where she was going with this.
“Good night, David.” She grabbed the door handle. Then she turned back and peered through the window. “Why did you move here after law school? Why not Miami or Atlanta? Tampa or Orlando? Why Fort Gaspar?”
“The cost of living.”
She stared at him. Almost looked angry.
“What are you implying?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she said. “Thanks for the ride.” She hopped out of the car and slammed the door behind her. Then she disappeared into the house.
As he drove home, he couldn’t put her last question out of his mind. He knew she was implying something. Maybe she just resented him for being here and wished she could make this transition in life without having to deal with someone else from her past, especially someone as needy and desperate as she apparently considered him to be.
More likely, though, she was implying that he’d moved here for her. As if he knew she would one day leave Jeff McElroy and move home, and he’d be waiting here for her. He felt angry, though, mainly because he wondered if she was right.
David finally pulled into his driveway and killed the ignition. For a moment, he didn’t even realize there was another car parked in the driveway. Probably because he’d seen the car parked there so many times, it almost seemed to belong. The realization of whose car it was finally jarred him out of his exhausted complacency.
Through the BMW’s window, Lana stared back at him with dark, tired eyes.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
He fumbled with the key in the dead bolt. He’d never seen the porch so dark, and wondered if Lana was blocking the light. But there was no light to block. Half the townhomes on his block were in foreclosure, and half of those were abandoned.
“I tried calling but you changed your numbers,” she said, taking a few steps toward the doorway. He smelled her fragrance, the same hint of lavender and sex she always wore. He wished she had changed it, at least for today. “Are you just going to ignore me?”
He finally turned the lock and pushed open the front door to the foyer. Then he flipped on the porch light and peered back at his visitor, the woman who prior to this year had probably slept more nights in this townhome than he had. She looked dressed for a job interview: gray wool slacks hugging her hips perfectly like everything she wore; a silky white blouse that accentuated her soft, slender build.
