Another glance toward the door. “Yes. Absolutely.”
One last deep breath, as I tried to come to terms with the inevitable fact of Marie’s existence in our lives. Nolan and Jeffrey were watching me closely. “Okay, then there’s our answer.” I gestured toward the door. “You can go.” But before a single one of them could do or say anything, before they could catch a breath or even blink, I added: “However, Nolan would like to give you twenty thousand dollars first.”
Marie’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “What for?”
“And Jeffrey—he’d like to give you twenty thousand dollars, as well.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Jeffrey asked.
I explained that Jeffrey and Nolan would each give Marie a check for twenty thousand dollars. Marie would deposit the money into her bank account. “You have a bank account, don’t you?” I asked.
Still looking suspicious, she nodded.
“Good,” I said. “You’ll endorse the checks and deposit them into your account.”
“News flash, Will,” Jeffrey said. “I don’t have twenty thousand at my immediate disposal.”
“Then sell a car.” This was my plan, and I didn’t have any time for bullshit. “Do what you need to do. In the meantime, Nolan will loan you what you need.”
“I don’t get it,” Marie said. “What am I supposed to do with all that money?”
Nolan’s icy expression was beginning to melt. “Whatever you want,” he said.
“That’s right,” I said. “Quit your job, and go back to school. Move out of your grandmother’s house. Take a vacation. It’ll be your money. Yours to use however you want.”
As we explained the offer to Marie, her continued presence in that chair filled me with gratitude and hope. It seemed nearly impossible that we weren’t hearing echoes of her footfalls, the door shutting behind her. Yet here she remained.
“Forty thousand dollars.” She said the words slowly, as if trying to imagine the sum. And even though this was my idea, I couldn’t help thinking about where those forty thousand dollars had been allocated only hours before and silently mourning the brief financial solvency of Long-Shot Records.
“You told us you can keep a secret,” I said. “Well, this will give you some incentive to be true to your word. If you ever tell the police about us, it’ll be hard to explain away all this money you’ve willingly accepted from us. There will be a money trail, and any story you might tell about a kidnapping will be complicated by that fact.”
“It’s not an ideal plan,” Nolan added, “but everyone will make out okay this way. It’s a lot of money, Marie, and it sounds like you could really use it.”
She closed her eyes a minute. She must have been imagining all the ways that money would make her life easier. “Just say for a minute,” she said at last, “that I agreed to this. How will I know for sure you’ll keep your word?”
Nolan removed his wallet from his pants pocket and handed her a business card.
“Because the three of us want nothing more than to forget any of this ever happened. Because I’m a state senator running for national office, and I know you hold all the cards in this relationship, and I believe that you know it, too. This money isn’t a gift, it’s insurance. And for that insurance, you’ll be earning more than two years’ salary. Not a bad day’s work.” Marie looked at Nolan’s card and put it into her back pocket. “So what do you say?” he asked.
She said, “This is crazy.”
“You’re considering it, though, aren’t you?” When she didn’t answer, Nolan said to Jeffrey, “Checks won’t work, though. My checkbook’s in Missouri. I assume yours is in California. But we can wire money directly to her bank account.”
“There won’t be any endorsed checks that way,” I said.
“Still, the money will be in her account,” Nolan said. “There will be an electronic record of the transaction. That’s the best we can do. I think it’s good enough.”
“And if I don’t agree to this,” Marie said, “I can just get up and leave?”
“That’s right,” I said. “It’s completely up to you.”
She nodded. “But if I do agree—then what happens?”
“We’ll drive you to your house,” Nolan said, “so that you can get your account information, and then we’ll go to a Western Union office and wire the money to your bank.”
“Or,” I said, “in the spirit of trust you can leave on your own, go home, and then call us here with your account information.” I looked at my friends for any objections.
“Forty thousand dollars,” she said.
“Forty thousand,” I said. It was a sleazy deal we were making, and I would have to find a way to live with that. Incredibly, though, it seemed like we were all going to agree. Marie would sleep in her own bed tonight, and so would I, and then tomorrow we could all begin to pretend that none of this had ever happened.
“And there’s no catch?” she asked.
“No catch,” I said.