“And I know that,” Parker said and held up his hand. “But I can see how she reached that conclusion. Anyway, the more I’ve been around you, the better I like you and appreciate who you are as your own, unique person. And it helps that you’re gorgeous.”
“Don’t mess with me, Parker.”
“I’m not. I mean every word.”
Their food came. Burnside was right. The rib-eye steaks were superb. Parker made Layla laugh several times with stories from his childhood. When they were almost finished with the meal, he cleared his throat.
“Are you ready for another boat ride on the river?” he asked. “I’m sure I could borrow Opa’s boat.”
“I’m not sure,” Layla replied.
“Why?”
“Because a different river is sweeping me along faster than I want it to go. I thought I could control the pace, but an evening like tonight makes me wonder if that’s possible.”
“That sounds like a fun river.”
“Fun but serious.”
The look in Layla’s eyes made Parker want to kiss her and tell her he was going to turn her father down. But she glanced away, and the moment passed.
“Just consider my invitation a photo shoot,” he said. “I’d like to hire you to take some pictures of the river and marsh that I can give Opa for Christmas.”
“Strictly business?” Layla asked.
“Yes. I’ll pay your top rate. If I’m satisfied with the results, of course.”
“Okay,” Layla replied. “But remember, you’re dealing with a heart that has been broken, just like in so many of the movies you haven’t seen.”
“And I take that very seriously.”
“I can’t go,” Frank replied when Parker called the following morning and asked to take Layla out on the boat Saturday. “I promised Lenny that I’d help him replace some windows at his house that have been damaged by the salt air. If you need to borrow any fishing tackle, I can put together some rigs for you in advance.”
“No, it’s just us and Layla’s camera. I’d like to take her farther down the Sound.”
“Make sure you avoid the shoals, especially at low tide. The skiff can handle shallow water, but I don’t want you to plow the propeller into a sandbar at thirty miles an hour.”
“I’ll be careful. Would it be okay if we came by the house around eight o’clock in the morning? Both of us like to get an early start on the day.”
“I’ll be up long before that.”
“Thanks, Opa.”
“One other thing. Have you set up a time for me to meet her father?” Frank asked. “I’ve been thinking about him a lot.”
“Uh, no, but I’m supposed to talk to him in a few minutes. I’ll find out when he’s going to be in New Bern. Would you be willing to come to town?”
“Yes, whatever works best for you. It’s important.”
After the phone call with Parker ended, Frank left the house and drove to the dock. In the trunk of his car were the supplies he used to clean his boat. Even if he couldn’t go, he wanted it to be pristine for Parker and Layla. Not that it ever got dirty; however, it was impossible to avoid some buildup of residue from the brackish water and exposure to the elements. He’d considered buying a custom cover, but that was for boats that spent months idle, and hassling with a cover was the last thing he and Lenny wanted to do when they were eager to get on the water and catch fish.
When he arrived at the dock, Frank recognized a truck driven by one of the other boat owners, a man name Kevin Hill who sold life insurance. For years Kevin had tried to convince Frank to buy a policy. More recently, the familiar sales pitch no longer made its way into their conversations. At his age, Frank was no longer a risk worth taking.
Like Frank, Kevin was there to clean his boat, a twenty-four-foot cabin cruiser. Kevin had his back to him spraying the side of his boat and turned the nozzle away for a moment, catching Frank in the spray as he approached.
“Hey!” Frank called out.
“Sorry, Frank,” Kevin said, lowering the hose and turning off the water. “I didn’t see you coming.”
Frank wiped a few drops from his face. “That’s okay, I’m about to get wet anyway.”
“I’m almost finished with the hose,” Kevin replied, laying it on the dock.
“I’m cleaning my boat before Parker takes it out tomorrow.”
“Is he still in college?”
“No, he finished law school and is working for a firm here in New Bern.”
“Which one?”
“Branham and Camp.”
Kevin made a negative face. “Oh yeah, I’ve run into Greg Branham a time or two. But the way the economy is going, it’s tough to get any kind of legal job, and I’ve heard there’s a real glut of lawyers.”
“Parker seems to be doing well.”
“He’s a good kid,” Kevin said and then brightened up. “Hey, I’ll call him up and invite him to lunch. His age is the best time to start thinking about life insurance. Is he married?”
“Not yet, but he’s dating a woman who seems like a perfect match.”
“Then it’s a no-brainer to lock in a decent policy at a low rate that’s guaranteed for as long as he wants the policy.”
Frank knew it was pointless to protest on Parker’s behalf.
“I’ll bring the hose down to you in a couple of minutes,” Kevin continued. “I just need to finish scrubbing the seats. My wife wants to impress her out-of-town sister from Kansas with our yacht tomorrow afternoon.”
Frank continued down the dock to his boat. While he worked, he thought about Kevin and his family. A short time later he saw the insurance agent walking toward him with the hose.
“Are you going to tell Parker that I’m going to call him?” Kevin asked.
“No, I’ll give you a fair shot at him.”
Kevin smiled. “You know how the game works. I’m trying to earn a living.”
“And Lenny Blackstock is satisfied with what you sold him.”
“Yeah, he’s had that policy for a long time. By now it has a nice cash value.” Kevin handed the hose to Frank. “Do you need me to give you a hand with anything?”
“No, I can handle it if I take my time.” Frank laid the hose on the boat deck. “Is your sister-in-law having any health problems?”
“Yeah,” Kevin replied. “That’s why she’s made the trip. She’s not sure she’ll be able to do it if she waits much longer, and we want her to have a good time. Her husband passed away a couple of years ago, and she’s been down in the dumps ever since. Then she found out she has this condition in her lungs that will eventually require her to use an oxygen tank, and it sent her even deeper into depression.”
Frank adjusted the cap on his head. “Maybe you could take her to church while she’s here.”
“My wife would love that,” Kevin said. “But I play golf with clients on Sundays. The problem is, my sister-in-law is bitter about all that’s happened to her, and I don’t think she’ll want to go.”
“If you invite her and agree to go, she’ll say yes,” Frank replied.
“Me?”
“Pretend you’re trying to sell her a policy.”
“That’s a good way of looking at it,” Kevin said, grinning. “My wife will freak out when I bring up going to church as a family. It will be worth watching her reaction even if her sister turns me down.”
After Kevin left, Frank found himself whistling while he cleaned his boat.
CHAPTER 31
Parker’s weekly phone conference with Thomas Blocker was set for Friday afternoon. In the meantime, his turmoil about what to do about the job offer increased by the minute. The time set for the call passed. He could distinctly remember Blocker saying he would initiate the call, but it would be easy for the busy trial lawyer to forget such a minor detail. Deciding it was better to act than be late, Parker picked up the phone and entered the number.
“Mr. Blocker, please,” he said to the receptionist who answered. “It’s
Parker House. I have a call scheduled with him at three o’clock this afternoon.”
“Mr. Blocker is out of the office and won’t be returning until Monday,” the woman replied.
“Is there a conference call with me on his calendar?” Parker asked.
“Let me check,” the woman replied and put Parker on hold. A moment later she returned. “No. Do you want me to take a message in case he checks in?”
“Yes, just tell him I’ll be in the office the rest of the afternoon and available to talk.”
After he hung up, Parker checked the calendar on his computer screen and verified the hour he’d blocked off for the conversation about the Ferguson case. His phone buzzed.
“Mr. Blocker is here for his meeting with you,” Vicki said.
“He’s here?”
“No, he went to the restroom, but he was standing in front of my desk about thirty seconds ago. Are you okay?”
“Does Greg know?” Parker ignored Vicki’s question.
“Not yet. He’s meeting with a client in his office. Should I interrupt him or slip him a note?”
“No, I’ll be there in a second and take Mr. Blocker downstairs to the conference room.”
Parker hurriedly grabbed the information on the Ferguson case and went out to Vicki’s desk.
“I can definitely see the family resemblance between Layla and her father,” Vicki said in a low voice. “Have you met her mother yet?”
“No.”
“Isn’t it about time for that to happen? You’ve interacted a lot with her father, and her mother has a lot of catching up to do—”
“Please, Vicki,” Parker said. “Not now.”
The door to the upstairs restroom opened and Tom Blocker emerged. He was wearing a green golf shirt and khaki pants. Parker had straightened his tie before leaving his office. He loosened it as he stepped forward to shake the trial lawyer’s hand.
“I was expecting a phone call, not a personal visit,” Parker said. “Would you like to meet in the downstairs conference room?”
“No, your office is fine.”
“Should I let Greg know where you are when he’s free?” Vicki asked.
Parker turned to Blocker and waited. “Of course. I’ll be glad to see him,” Blocker said.
Parker led the way to his office. Blocker closed the door behind him and sat down.
“Have you checked out the house for sale on Pollock Street?” Blocker asked.
“For sale? I thought it was for rent.”
“Most things for rent can be bought if the price is right.”
“No, I’ve not seen the inside,” Parker replied.
Blocker reached in his pocket and took out a key. “Would you like to? The spot I’ve picked out for your office doesn’t have a view of the neighbor’s backyard, but it would give you the chance to stretch out and think large. I’ll never forget the first time I argued an appeal in the Eleventh Circuit Court of Appeals in Atlanta. The size of the courtroom made it easier to present big ideas about important issues.”
“Don’t you want to talk about the Ferguson case first?”
“We’ll circle back here and do that later,” Blocker replied. “I’m in town for the whole weekend, so I’m not in a rush.”
Parker and Blocker emerged from the office. Vicki raised her eyebrows as they passed her desk.
“We’ll be back in a few minutes,” Parker said.
“Maybe more than a few,” Blocker added and then stopped. “What’s your name again?”
“Vicki Satterfield.”
“And what’s your work experience?”
Parker shifted nervously on his feet and glanced several times at the door to Greg’s office as Vicki provided a quick verbal résumé.
Blocker nodded when she finished. “Impressive. You’ve thrived in several different types of legal environments.”
“Including here,” Parker said. “Vicki is the glue that holds this place together.”
“I look forward to learning more about that,” Blocker said as he moved on toward the stairwell.
They walked downstairs in silence. Parker didn’t speak until they were outside on the porch.
“Was that a job interview?” he asked.
“First steps,” Blocker replied, raising his index finger. “Of course, I’ll rely on your recommendation about actually hiring her; however, a person with experience running a law office is important when the lawyer in charge is young. That’s probably one reason why Greg hired her. What’s he paying her?”
“I have no idea. I don’t know what anyone else makes at the firm.”
They reached the sidewalk and headed toward Blocker’s car.
“What’s your salary?” Blocker asked.
Slightly embarrassed, Parker told him and watched the trial lawyer’s face for his reaction.
“Thank you,” Blocker replied, unlocking the doors of his car.
“Why?” Parker asked as he slipped into the passenger seat.
“For telling me the truth. It would have been easy to inflate the figure to make sure I offer you more to join me.”
The possibility of lying hadn’t crossed Parker’s mind.
“But you didn’t even consider doing that,” Blocker continued. “You’ll get a hefty raise, but working with me isn’t about what you’ll make now. What’s more important is your potential down the road.”
The car pulled away from the curb. Parker’s head was spinning with thoughts of what “potential” meant, along with Greg’s likely reaction if Blocker lured both Parker and Vicki away from the firm. If that happened, every time Parker left the new office he would have to look up and down the street to make sure his former boss wasn’t preparing to drive his vehicle onto the sidewalk and run him over.
And then there was Layla.
Frank finished cleaning his boat and turned off the hose. No one else was on any of the other boats that quietly rocked at their moorings. He was alone except for a pair of seagulls loudly calling to each other as they circled overhead. Taking a dry towel, Frank dried off the seat in front of the console in the middle of the boat and sat down to enjoy a few moments of a late-afternoon breeze. The seagulls moved down the shore in search of dinner. The wind on Frank’s face had a familiar yet ancient feel.
RHINE RIVER, SWITZERLAND, 1944
The cool breeze ruffled Franz’s hair that hadn’t been cut since he crossed the Rhine. He was in the boat with Otto, a ten-year-old boy, and Alfred, the boy’s grandfather. They were fishing for perch to sell the following day in the local fish market.
“Opa, if I catch a pike, will you take it off the hook?” Otto asked.
“Yes. If you can land a pike without it sawing through your leader, I’ll take it off the hook and cook it for your supper,” Alfred answered.
Franz was sitting in the back of the boat with his line drifting from the stern. He’d learned more about fishing during the past five months than he had in his entire life. Alfred had grown up fishing with his father along the river when the Upper Rhine still teemed with millions of salmon in midsummer and early fall.
Otto’s parents were killed in a house fire when the boy was two years old. Rescued by a neighbor, he was sent to live with his grandfather in a two-hundred-year-old cottage not far from the river. Otto’s frantic reaction to his grandfather’s near drowning was understandable under any circumstances, but it made even more sense when Franz learned about the boy’s tragic background. Otto hated to be apart from his grandfather for a single day, but attendance at the local school was mandatory. Once a month, Alfred let Otto skip school and join them on the water.
They were fishing with river crustaceans that made up a large portion of a perch’s diet. In a mesh basket attached to the side of the boat were fifteen fat fish they’d caught since heading out while mist still hovered over the surface of the water. Ten of those fish had come off Franz’s line. He’d shown a quick aptitude for fishing, which extended his stay with Alfred and Otto from a few days t
o several months. Alfred didn’t raise questions about Franz’s past and spread the word around the village that the young German was a second cousin who had been living in Basel since before the war began. As time passed, Alfred added more details to enhance the story. Franz was impressed with the creative details in the fake narrative.
“My grandfather was a great storyteller,” Alfred said with a smile when Franz asked him about it. “He could entertain me for hours on the river with tales about fish who talked and otters who lived like kings in their dens. And he would have been furious if I let a good fisherman like you slip through my net. We’ve more than doubled our production since you came to stay with us.”
Franz kept up with the war news by listening to a French-speaking radio broadcast that came from a station on the other side of the river. A few weeks earlier, in a mixture of tears and patriotic outbursts, the announcer had proclaimed the liberation of Paris from German occupation. Franz knew the occupation of German cities would soon follow.
“Fish on,” Franz said at the telltale jerk of his line.
Otto watched wide-eyed as Franz quickly reeled in another fish, the largest of the day, and dropped it into the wire basket.
“Is Franz a better fisherman than you, Opa?” the boy asked.
“No,” Franz answered. “And your grandfather is a great teacher. I knew nothing about fishing until I came to stay with you. Every fish I catch is because he taught me the right way to do it. That’s why he makes you go to school. He wants you to learn so you can be successful in life.”
“But all I want to do is fish,” Otto protested. “I’m wasting time in school.”
“You’re already a good fisherman,” Franz replied. “But you’re going to be an even better engineer who will help save the river from those who might destroy it.”
Otto turned away. Alfred eyed Franz.
“Why do you say that?” the old man asked.
“The manufacturing debris being dumped in the river is killing—”
“I know about that,” Alfred interrupted. “I’m talking about Otto’s future.”
“I believe you are right to make him go to school,” Franz answered evasively. “And from the work he’s brought home, he’s very good in math. That’s what it takes to be a good engineer.”
The Witnesses Page 25
