Jay Giles

by Blindsided (A Thriller)

  She smiled. “Penetrating armor is my specialty.”

  “Thanks. We probably ought to get out of here. I don’t want to bump into Janet in the lobby.”

  We didn’t.

  I drove back to my condo, had a late bite, tried to read for a little bit. Couldn’t concentrate enough to get through a single page. Gave up. Went down to the gym and worked out. If there was going to be a confrontation, I wanted to be in shape. After an hour on the machines, an hour running, I’d had enough. I went back upstairs, took a shower, went to bed. If my alarm went off in the morning, I didn’t hear it.

  Bright Florida sunlight streaming in the window roused me. The bedside clock said eight-forty.

  It was close to ten when I arrived at the trailer. Rosemary, phone to her ear, handed me a stack of pink message slips. There were five desks lined up in a row. Rosemary was at desk one—closest to the door. I walked back to desk four—closest to the air conditioning.

  I accessed the markets on my computer, scanned the pink slips, began returning calls. A little after eleven, Rosemary turned, looked back at me. “Tory’s on one.”

  “Just got off the phone with Helen,” she said after I picked up. “She thinks it went perfectly. Janet asked Helen about Frankie’s condition—had to pull it out of her—and Helen told her if he had another bender like that he’d be dead in twenty-four hours of acute alcohol poisoning. His liver couldn’t handle it.”

  “What did she say?”

  “Helen said her face sort of lit up. I think it gave her ideas.”

  “Good. How about the house hunting?”

  “Helen said they set it up. The real estate agent will call you afterward, right?”

  “Yeah, I’ll call you and let you know what she says.”

  “I’ll be here. I’m working on you-know-who. Nothing wonderful yet. The good stuff usually takes some digging.”

  “Keep after it.”

  “I am.” She rang off.

  I went back to work. Around one-thirty, activity trailed off and I ducked out and brought us back Chinese. Desk two became our lunchroom. I placed the white takeout containers in the middle of the desk and we loaded up our plates. I used a fork. Rosemary was adept with chopsticks.

  “So how are your extracurricular activities coming?” she asked around a bite of rice.

  I made a face. “Hard to say. I’ll know more tonight. With any luck, we could have our first marriage discussions.”

  She waved her chopsticks in the air. “That’s great news.”

  I nodded over a bite of sweet and sour chicken. “Yeah, we’re making progress. I don’t know if it’s enough to suit D’Onifrio.”

  “What do you mean? He should be thrilled with what you’ve done.”

  “He’s not. He burned our building because we weren’t moving fast enough. I’m worried about what he’ll do next.”

  Her eyes got big.

  “I don’t want to scare you, but it might be good if you and Dan went on a vacation. Visit Rebecca instead of having her come here. That way you can see your mom and dad. Don’t worry about what it costs; it’s on me.”

  “Oh, Matt, you’re too generous. We couldn’t.”

  I smiled. “You can. In fact, I insist.”

  She hesitated. “Let me talk to Dan, see what he says.”

  “Tell him I won’t take no for an answer.”

  She ate a bite of shrimp, mulled the possibilities. “I’d love to see my mum and dad. My cousins. Dan’s never met some of them.”

  I was pleased that she’d focused on the trip rather than the threat. She was still bubbling about what they’d do, who they’d see, when Margo Cohen, the realtor, called later in the afternoon. “They just left,” Margo said breathlessly. “It went so well I couldn’t wait to call.”

  “Don’t skimp. Give me all the details.”

  “Oh, where to start. I took them to the Thone house on Bayridge first. That wasn’t for them. Too beige. We went to the Nelson’s house in Plantation Estates. Too ordinary. Then we went to 3423 Gulfside—that big house that’s been on the market forever—and they loved it.”

  “Isn’t that the one that’s outrageously priced?”

  “You think seven million is outrageous?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, your couple didn’t,” she said excitedly. “She loved it. He loved it.” Her voice became sarcastic. “Of course, she thinks it needs a new kitchen, and the pool? Well, the pool is ‘way too small.”

  “So then what?”

  “I showed them the Fishburne house on Lake Forest. Too confining. The Tallit house on Taragon Way. Too dark. Then we went back to Gulfside.”

  “How did they act? What did they say?”

  “I was getting to that. They walked around a lot and talked, you know, the way you do when you’re trying to figure if your stuff will fit. I sat on the lanai waiting. Finally, they came out, and he said he wanted to make an offer. I went through the motions of writing up a contract for seven mill. I showed him where he needed to sign. But instead of signing, he tossed the pen over his shoulder, turned to her and told her he wanted the house but he wouldn’t live in it without her. It was so romantic.”

  Yes! “What did she say?”

  “She went over and hugged and kissed him. But then she told him she wouldn’t live with him—she wasn’t that kind of woman. He didn’t bat an eyelash, Matt, he got down on one knee and asked her to marry him.”

  I could feel my heart beating faster, adrenaline pumping through my body. “What did she say?”

  Chapter 38

  “What could she say to such a romantic guy? She said yes, of course.”

  I felt a huge weight lift from my shoulders, I gave Rosemary a thumbs-up.

  “I told you we were due for some good luck,” she called over.

  “They were going to have dinner together tonight and talk about the wedding,” the realtor continued.

  “Thanks, Margo. I owe you one.”

  “You sure do. Make it the next Microsoft.”

  I started to ring off.

  “Matt, Matt, wait a minute. What do you want me to do with this contract?”

  “Tear it up.”

  “Let’s rethink that. I could see you in—”

  “In your dreams, Margo. ‘Bye.” This time I did hang up. I dialed Tory’s number. “He proposed, she accepted,” I told her as soon as she answered the phone.

  “Already?”

  “Happened house hunting just the way we thought it would, only quicker. Janet said she wouldn’t live with him, so right on the spot Fish got down on one knee and proposed.”

  “How romantic.”

  “I think they’re going to set the date at dinner tonight.”

  “What if she wants a big, expensive wedding?”

  “She won’t. She won’t want the exposure. She’ll want to keep this fast and low key.”

  Rosemary signaled me. “Julian’s calling on line two.”

  “Gotta go, Tory. I’ll call you back.” I hit the button for the other line. “Hello, Julian.”

  “Matt, I’ve just gotten the strangest call from Nevitt. Has something happened?”

  “Why? What did he say?”

  “He wanted an extension on supplying Janet’s financial information. The strange part was that he was positively jubilant on the phone. Every other conversation I’ve had with him has been hostile. Today, he was Mr. Happy.”

  I took the call as a good sign. Nevitt’s mood had to be caused by Janet’s engagement. The timing was too coincidental for that not to be it. “What did you tell him?”

  “I told him if he didn’t have his shit to us when he was supposed to, we’d go to the N.A.S.D. and demand a dismissal of the charges. He didn’t give you any warning when they came for your stuff. No reason we have to give him extra time.”

  “What did he say then?”

  “That was strange, too. I thought he’d be pissed, start shouting. The way he’s acted in the past. Instead, he said so
mething like, well, we’ll see. He didn’t seem upset at all. That’s why I was wondering if something happened?”

  “My guy proposed. Janet accepted,” I explained, gave him a little detail on Fish and Janet. “They think she’s about to make a big score. Julian, I’m small potatoes compared to what they think they’re going to get from this marriage.”

  “That explains why he was Mr. Happy on the phone with me. But remember, he hasn’t let you off the hook yet.”

  “But if he’s about to make a big score and I’m a big nuisance, why bother with me?”

  “Money,” Julian answered simply. “He’s greedy.”

  He was probably right. It was wishful thinking on my part that Nevitt would back off. “Well, keep pushing him,” I said encouragingly. “Delivering those records has to be a hassle when they want to concentrate on this wedding.”

  “Let’s hope,” Julian said before he rang off.

  I felt like celebrating. Rosemary, however, wanted my nose to the grindstone. She had three callbacks for me, all of which turned out to be large, profitable transactions. Sometimes you have stretches where every time you pick up the phone, it’s money.

  In fact, we did such good business that I was humming to myself as I left the trailer to go head home.

  Back at the condo, I took a long, cold shower. I needed it. Even sitting next to the air conditioner, I felt I’d spent the afternoon being broiled alive. I dried off, threw on some clothes, called Tory back.

  “You sound happy,” she said.

  “I am. It’s been a good day.”

  “Frankie’s pretty excited, too. Since I talked to you, he has called three times. Once to fill me in, twice with questions about tonight. They’re going to have dinner after the A.A. meeting, talk about a date.”

  “Did you tell him the sooner, the better.”

  “Sort of. I checked on what he needs to do. With the application for the license, blood test, the earliest they can have a justice of the peace wedding is Friday. I told him to shoot for Friday or Saturday.”

  “Good.”

  “His other call was about a ring and a honeymoon. Two things she’s asking him about. Any ideas?”

  “Have him tell her he’s getting his mother’s ring out of the safety deposit box in Detroit.”

  “How about the honeymoon?”

  “He should defer to her, ask her what she wants to do. That should buy us a little time.”

  “I’ll tell him.”

  “When do you think he’ll be back at the condo? I’d like to know what they decide for a date. If this wedding actually happens, it changes the situation with D’Onifrio.”

  “My guess is it’ll be late. Frankie’s been invited back to her place—as he put it—to talk about the arrangements.”

  “Really. And what do we really think is going to happen at her place?”

  “Well, Frankie has it in his mind he’s going to get laid. I told him not to be too disappointed if she doesn’t come across.”

  “Women,” I said lightly. “Here he’s ready to give her millions and she won’t give him a little nookie.”

  She tossed it right back at me. “You men. It’s all about immediate gratification.”

  “We’re pigs. I admit it. But let’s get back to you women, for a minute. Inviting him back to her place makes no sense. She should be stalling, telling him no sex until after the marriage.”

  “I agree with you. I’m just telling you what Frankie told me.”

  I was beginning to get a bad feeling about the evening’s activities. Might not hurt to watch over the lovebirds, find out what was going on. “How would you feel about doing a little chaperoning tonight?”

  “I’d be afraid Janet would recognize me. We never did anything about a disguise.”

  Darn, forgot about that. “Let me call you right back.”

  I hung up and got out my Watergate directory. Looked up Edith’s number, punched it in.

  “Hello,” she answered demurely.

  “Edith, Matt Seattle. You don’t by any chance have a woman’s wig I could borrow, do you?”

  “I have several. Why?”

  “Yours or the theatre’s?”

  “The theatre’s.”

  “I have a friend I need to disguise, much the way you did me. I was wondering if I could borrow one of them?”

  “Of course you can, dear. Why don’t you have your friend come by? I’ll help her make one of these work.”

  “Thanks, Edith. Let me talk to her, call you right back.” I hung up, dialed Tory’s number. “Tory,” I said as soon as she answered. “Edith says you can have your choice of wigs. She’ll even fit it for you.”

  “She doesn’t need to do that.”

  “She wants to. C’mon over. It just takes a few minutes.”

  “I guess,” she said reluctantly.

  I gave her my address, called Edith, let her know it was a go.

  Twenty minutes later, the buzzer rang. It was Tory. I buzzed her up, met her at the elevators, walked her to the unit.

  “Nice place,” she said when we were in the living room.

  “Make yourself comfortable.” I indicated the couch and leather club chairs. “I’ll call Edith.” I headed for the kitchen, stopped, turned. “Can I offer you something to drink?”

  She turned, smiled. “A glass of ice water would be great.”

  In the kitchen, I made my call, then returned with her ice water in a tall glass. She was looking at the view. I joined her, handed her the water.

  “I bought the place for the view.”

  “It’s wonderful. If I lived here, I’d be looking at that view all the time.” She turned, looked back at the living room. “Not that your place isn’t something to look at. It’s so, so—”

  “Unused looking?”

  She smiled, shook her head. “No, that’s not what I—”

  “So Pottery Barn?”

  “Sort of.” She made a face. “So put together, I guess. I mean that in a good way.”

  I grinned. “Thanks. I think.”

  She walked over to a grouping of stand-up picture frames on a long stainless steel table. “Is this your family?”

  I followed, picked up a picture, held it as I talked. “Claire and I on the beach at Grand Cayman—we were celebrating our second wedding anniversary.” I replaced it, picked up the next one. “Michael in his Hornets uniform with Eddie. Being drafted by the Hornets meant you were really good.” I put his photo back. “And this is Sarah,” I said, my voice cracking as I picking up her photo.

  Tory looked from the photo to me. “She looks like you.”

  I nodded although I saw more of Claire in Sarah than myself. Just looking at her photo made me smile. “She was such a loving child. There was so much goodness and caring in her.” I put the photo of her down and picked up a picture of the entire family. “This was taken on a skiing trip to the U.P. over Christmas break. It was the last photo of all of us before the accident.”

  “You all look so happy.”

  “We were. You take it for granted that it’s always going to be that way; then without warning, it’s gone. In an instant, all you’re left with are the things you wanted to say, the hopes and dreams you’ll never realize, a hole where your heart used to be.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, softly

  “No, I’m the one who should be sorry. I don’t usually get this maudlin. Forgive me. This isn’t what we’re here for tonight.” Fortunately, the doorbell rang. “That should be Edith.”

  It was. She had three wigs. Two blonde—one curly, one straight. One redhead. After I introduced the two ladies, Edith had Tory try on all three wigs. I would have chosen the redhead. Surprisingly, the blond curly one fit best, looked best. Edith fiddled with it while I went to change clothes, put on my disguise.

  When I returned, Tory wore the wig and a doubtful expression. “What do you think?”

  “You look like a completely different person.”

  Edith took that
to mean mission accomplished. She beamed. “Well, you children have fun. I’ve got to be going.”

  I walked her to the door. “Thanks, Edith.”

  She gave me a motherly pat on the cheek. “I like your friend, Matt.”

  I’m sure I blushed.

  Once Edith was gone, Tory said, “We need to be going, too.”

  I looked at my watch. Twenty ‘til. We’d just get there for the start of the meeting. I grabbed my car keys. “I’m ready.”

  On the elevator ride down, she took papers from her black shoulder bag. “We’ve got some things to talk about. I got more information on D’Onifrio.”

  We walked to the Saab. I held her door for her, got in my side, started the engine, and drove out of the complex.

  “I’ve been looking into the companies he’s bought to launder money,” she said as we drove. “Trying to see if there were irregularities that would allow us to call in the authorities, create a stink in the press.” She had a stack of papers, held together by a big metal clip. “You’d probably be better looking at this stuff than I am.”

  I looked over at her. “Good idea. I’ll go over them tonight.”

  “I’ve also been looking for a disgruntled worker at Shore, someone with whistleblower potential.”

  “Let me guess—there aren’t any to be found.”

  “You’re right. For a bank, Shore has a very high accident rate—some even fatal. But if we could find someone—”

  I shook my head. “It’s a good idea, but I don’t think it’s going to pan out.”

  She turned in her seat. “Here’s the one I like best,” she said excitedly. “Remember Raines told us D’Onifrio was to receive an award for helping deaf children?”

  I nodded.

  “I found the organization. It’s the Foundation for Latina Speech and Hearing Services, headquartered in Miami. And guess what? They’d still like to present it to him. They’d even be willing to come to Sarasota.”

  She was right. This was the best of all. A humanitarian award D’Onifrio had actually earned, not something trumped up, and the Foundation would do all the work. “Perfect.”

  She smiled broadly. “I’m thinking we give them a list of the people—D’Onifrio, Enrico, the whole bunch—that should be invited to the award ceremony. When they arrive, we use the opportunity to get information about Joe’s money to Enrico, Little Ernie, and Eduardo. Maybe we disguise it to look like a program.”