“Why isn’t it a black truck,” I asked. “I thought you said a black truck was following you.”
“That’s part of the message. They want to make sure I see it. A red flag.” He pointed up at the air-conditioning vent over his head and then pressed an index finger over his lips to let me know they were listening. They were always listening. And then, as though he’d still been counting off the seconds while answering me, he broke off to drag his index finger slowly across the glass to form a letter “G.”
I tossed a small handful of rock salt into the aquarium and sprinkled fish flakes on the waving surface. He wasn’t going to tell me anything more and I wasn’t in the mood to be reminded that I wasn’t smart enough to understand the intricate details of high-power negotiating.
When I looked up, he had formed his index finger and thumb into the shape of a handgun, the way my brother and I had when we were barefooted Indians fighting cowboys around jack pines in Wisconsin. He jerked the hand back and then settled the fingertip against the glass again and again.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
The phone rang, but he didn’t seem to notice. I went to the den and closed the door before I answered.
“This is Mr. Travis from the Peabody. I’m calling about an outstanding balance, three months overdue.”
It was hard to concentrate. Images of Adam shooting out the back door at the red pickup truck were circling, looking for an explanation before they settled on a perch. “We’ve never stayed at the Peabody,” I finally said. “There must be a mistake.”
“No mistake. I’ve got the invoice in front of me for a boardroom rental totaling twelve hundred dollars.” He continued with the date and time, but they meant nothing to me. I got a kick out of how hard he tried to sound stuffy, failing miserably with his extreme Southern accent. “… the Furton boardroom for six hours. The bill is nonnegotiable.” I heard something tapping, like a pen on a desk, and reminded myself it was not Adam’s finger against the door glass.
I had little fight left in me, but we didn’t have enough in our bank account to cover the bill. Adam had been taking a lot of time off to work on the patents. We’d have all the money we ever needed after just one big sale, he promised. I blew out a breath and realized I was still holding the phone. Rustling and whispering on the other end surprised me. Mr. Travis should know that whispering wasn’t the least bit stuffy or dignified.
“Miss Kimmy helped your husband prepare the room and has some insight if it would help.”
“Yes, plea—” But he had already handed the phone over and I could hear the rapid, nervous breathing of a young woman.
“I was, like, the one to help set up the boardroom that day. He was two hours early, and he talked half the staff into helping him.” She breathed out a laugh, but not a happy one. “He kept, like, winking at the women and patting Jeff and Tyrone on the shoulder like he’d known them his whole life.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I talked the kitchen into giving him enough coffee for his guests even though he didn’t pay for it. He said it was a big event—real important, like.” She was talking in a normal volume again.
My hair stood on end. Of course it was a big event. All Adam’s events were big. And it was no surprise that he’d charmed everyone into serving him; he had that way about him. He was likable, believable, and the nicest guy in the world … until he wasn’t.
She wasn’t done, though. “He named a bunch of super important guys from Apple and Google and stuff like that. Big people. There were execs coming in from all over the country, or maybe he said all over the world, I don’t remember exactly. And he had a patent—even showed it to me when no one else was looking—that all these companies wanted to buy. It looked real. And he didn’t seem like he was crazy or anything. Not at first.”
Oh, Kimmy, they never do. They never seem crazy until you get up real close. Then you see crazy like you never imagined.
All at once I was furious. He had really done it. He had made a big deal and sold one of his patents and then hid it from me. After all the years I had tiptoed around and tried to make his life happy, he had cut me out at the end. I was speechless, and it seemed little Miss Kimmy was, too. But then she started again in a whisper I could barely hear through the angry blood pounding across my eardrums.
“He announced the meeting was starting with this crooked little smile, that cat-who-ate-the-canary smile, you know?”
Yes. I knew.
“And then he closed the double doors with a little bow to us—to me and Tyrone.”
Her breathing went funny again and she was quiet for too long. “Did something happen?” I asked. “Did he throw them out or something?”
“Yes. Well, no, he didn’t throw them out, but something did happen. Or, didn’t happen.” She groaned a little. “Oh fudge. I’ll just say it. There was no one there. No one had gone in the room before he closed the doors. The folders were in front of each chair—I’d helped him make copies and they had all sorts of figures and sales lists in them—and the coffee mugs were full. We could hear him talking. Presenting. But there weren’t any people.”
“Videoconference?” I asked, even though it made no sense.
“The Furton Room doesn’t have equipment. Not even a telephone. And he didn’t have anything with him. And besides, the coffee…”
“Yeah. The coffee. And the papers.” I had shredded three tissues into confetti in my lap.
“When he opened the doors, Tyrone asked him how things went and he said, Oh, they went just perfect. He had them right where he wanted them. It was all even bigger than he thought. That’s what he said, it was bigger than he thought. And then he left. He didn’t take any of the papers with him and all that coffee was just sitting there cold. Some mugs were half empty. Some of them had used sugar and cream.” She laughed. “I mean—”
“I get it. He was alone in the room the entire time. There were no other doors in or out?”
“No. Just the main entry and a table down the middle that seats twenty-two. Sometimes we put chairs along one wall, there’s room, but he didn’t ask for extra chairs.”
“No,” I said. “I guess he wouldn’t need extra chairs, would he.” I wasn’t really listening to her anymore. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. “Listen, I’ll talk to Adam about the bill and see what’s going on.”
“Oh my God! I shouldn’t have said so much. It was just so weird. Did I break some confidentiality thing?”
“No, no. You’re fine. We’ll get the bill straightened out. Thank you so much for explaining.” I hung up before she could say anything else, before she could hear the scream in my head.