Accidents Waiting to Happen (17 page)

“And it was Pinnacle Investments that sent the wreath,” Josh said.

Bob shook his head in disbelief.
 
“So you are saying James Mitchell ran you off the road, found out who you were then sent you a wreath as some sort of sick joke.
 
And by coincidence, you happen to be one of his firm’s customers.
 
Forgive me, Josh, but it doesn’t sound plausible.”
 

“Who says that he’s an insurance agent?
 
Don’t you think it’s funny that just as all this shit happens, Bell comes back on the scene wanting money?
 
It occurred to me today they might be working together.
 
I saw them talking last night.”
 

“Jesus, Josh.
 
You don’t know that.”

“Neither do you.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Then help me find out.
 
Prove me wrong,” Josh said.

Bob looked down at his feet and kicked a small chunk of gravel into the road.
 
He thought for a minute.
 
“How do we do that?”
 

“We’ll pay him a visit.
 
You picked him up from his hotel.
 
You know where he’s staying.”

“Yeah, but I’m sure he was making off for San Francisco today or tomorrow.”

“Well, we won’t know if we don’t try.
 
Let’s go now.”

“No, Josh,” Bob said.
 
“Your friend has just been killed and your wife is worried sick.
 
Go home.”

“He’ll get away.”

Bob sighed.
 
“I’ll pick you up first thing in the morning and we’ll go to the motel and check out James Mitchell, together.
 
But you’re going home, right now.
 
Okay?”

“Okay.”
 
Josh agreed reluctantly.

“Good.
 
We’ll settle this tomorrow.”

***

Bob picked up Josh from his home before eight the following morning.
 
They trudged across the city on commuter-clogged roads like blood struggling to flow through a diseased heart.
 
Bob drove to the southeast side of the city where he had picked up James Mitchell Saturday night.

Bob found it difficult to strike up a conversation.
 
So far, Josh had given him a collection of one-word responses.
 
This wasn’t like him.
 
He and Josh never ran out of things to say.
 
He would make Josh talk to him.

“How are you and Kate?” he asked.

“Okay.”

“No, really.
 
And don’t give another single word answer.
 
Talk to me, damn it.”

Josh sighed.
 
“Not good.
 
She feels I’m a different person.
 
She thinks this accident has gotten to me more than I think.
 
We argued again.
 
Even Abby and Wiener are treating me differently,” he said.

Bob guessed what it must be like living with Josh, if his friend’s behavior was anything like his ramblings yesterday.
 
Life must be hard for Kate and it couldn’t be doing the kid any good being exposed to Josh right now.
 
Bob hoped their meeting with Mitchell would clear things up and Josh could move on.
 
Of course, he still had the blackmail hanging over his head.
 
Bell hadn’t been worth it in his opinion.
 
Jesus, Josh had screwed up and it was coming back at him ten fold.
 
Bob pulled off the freeway and the motel came into view.

Bob slotted the Toyota into a parking space at the River City Inn.
 
The motel was positioned on a development that was home to the social security office, a Shell service station, another motel chain and very little else.
 
Bob had stayed in places like these when he was a salesman on the road.
 
He was glad he’d established roots and built up his own insurance business.
 
Bob didn’t envy James Mitchell’s life.
 
He locked the car and he followed Josh to the motel reception.

“Let me do the talking,” Bob said.
 
“I don’t want to freak anybody out if this turns out to be nothing, especially Mitchell.
 
I still deal with Pinnacle Investments and I don’t want to alienate them.”

Josh nodded in agreement.

The motel receptionist, a pretty blonde woman in her mid-twenties, all lipstick and cotton candy hair, looked up when Bob and Josh entered.
 
Her name badge said Tammy.
 
She flashed a welcoming corporate smile.
 
“Hi there, welcome to the River City Inn.
 
Can I help you?”

Bob leaned on the reception desk and flashed the same plastic smile Tammy gave.
 
“Yes, I hope so.
 
I was looking for a colleague of mine, James Mitchell, but I can’t remember what room he’s in.”

“Let me check that for you, sir.”
 
The receptionist looked up James Mitchell’s name on the computer records.
 
“I’m sorry, there’s no James Mitchell here,” Tammy said.

“Oh, he did say he was checking out either yesterday or today,” Bob said.
 
“Did he leave a forwarding address?”

“No, sir.
 
I don’t have a James Mitchell checked in or out,” she said.

Bob looked at Josh in confusion.
 
“I don’t understand, I picked him up from…” Bob let his words trail off.
 
“I must have the wrong motel.
 
Thanks very much for your help.
 
I’m really sorry to have put you to any trouble.”

“No problem at all, sir,” Tammy said, still smiling.

Josh shot Bob a baleful look that said everything.

“We may have his name wrong, he’s only visiting us,” Josh said.

“What did he look like?”

“He’s about forty-five, average height, medium build, brown graying hair, very ordinary looking,” Josh said.

“We have a lot of men here who fit that description.”

“C’mon, Josh, we’ve got the wrong place,” Bob said, and started to move away from the reception desk.

Tammy’s smile collapsed immediately when the two turned their back on her to leave.
 
A non-corporate look of puzzlement replaced her smile.

In the parking lot, Josh couldn’t contain his frustration.
 
“What was that?
 
You bailed on me, Bob.”

“Hang on, Josh, wait a minute.
 
I know this is the place I came to on Saturday and I don’t know why they don’t have a record of him, unless he gave them a false name.
 
And I don’t see a reason for an insurance agent to give a false name.”
 

“So what are you saying?”

“I think you’re right.”
 

 
Josh calmed down.
 
“Hey, I’m sorry.
 
It’s just that I feel no one’s in my corner.”

“Believe me man, I’m on your side.
 
Something is beginning to smell here.”

“How did you meet him on Saturday?”
  

“I met him in the reception, he was ready and waiting.”

Bob fished in his jacket pocket and pulled out a Pinnacle Investments business card.
 
He always kept business cards.
 
James Mitchell hadn’t given him one, but Bob had one from another Pinnacle representative.
 
He looked at the embossed card and brandished it like a winning lottery ticket.
 

Bob removed his cellular from his jacket pocket and dialed the telephone number on the card.
 
“Moment of truth.”
 

“Hello, Pinnacle Investments, your life is in our hands.
 
My name’s Karen.
 
How can I help you?” the receptionist said.

“Hi, Karen, could you give me a contact number for one of your insurance agents, James Mitchell, please?”

“Just checking for you, sir.”

Silence greeted Bob for nearly a minute.
 

“I’m sorry, there’s no one of that name working here.
 
Are you sure you have the correct name?”

“I don’t know.
 
I’ll check my paperwork and get back to you.
 
Thank you so much for your help.”

“Could I have your name, sir?” the telephone receptionist asked.

Bob hung up.

“What did they say?”

“They’ve never heard of James Mitchell.”

***

“Why are we going to see a florist?” Bob asked.

“I want to know who sent that wreath,” Josh said.

“Pinnacle Investments, right?” Bob answered.

“So the card said, but there’s no proof.
 
James Mitchell, or whoever this guy is, said he was from Pinnacle Investments, but he wasn’t.
 
So who says they sent the wreath?”

The florist that sent the wreath was situated a few blocks from Josh’s home, a small business amongst many on the strip mall put up to service the local community.
 
Forget-Me-Nots was sandwiched between a delivery pizza joint and a manicurist that sold false nails for $7.95.
 
Bob pulled into a parking space directly in front of the store just vacated by an old woman in a Cadillac Seville.

They entered the store and the electronic security buzzer sounded.
 
The staff consisted of one person.
 
A tall middle-aged woman came out from the rear of the shop.
 
She was gaunt and a good fifteen pounds underweight.
 
She looked as though someone had let the air out of her.
 
Her iron gray hair was thick and loosely curled to the middle of her back.
 
Her jeans and big woolen sweater hung on her like clothes on a coat hanger.

“Can I help you with anything?” she asked.

“We were after some information,” Josh said.
 
“You sent a sympathy wreath to my house last week.
 
It came from Pinnacle Investments.”

The woman pursed her thin lips as she narrowed her eyes.
 
“You’re Josh Michaels?”
 

“Yes, I am.”

“Oh, you’re the one.
 
Chris was none too pleased with your…outburst.”

Josh flushed a little, embarrassed by his misdemeanor being brought to book.
 
“Yeah, I’m sorry.
 
I shouldn’t have tried to kill the messenger.
 
And if Chris is here, I would like to apologize to him in person.”
 

Her face softened at Josh’s apology.
 
“Well, he’s not and I don’t think he would be too interested in what you had to say anyway.”
 

Josh winced and looked at Bob.
 
He smiled flatly.

“Is that all you wanted?” she asked.

“I hope you can understand that my friend was under a lot of stress and someone played a sick joke on him.
 
His car was forced off the road into the river.
 
And we are here to get to the bottom of it,” Bob said.

“That was you?
 
Wow.
 
I saw the car dragged from the river on TV.”
 

Josh nodded.

“Can you tell us who placed the order for the wreath?” Bob asked.

“Let me check.”
 
She disappeared into the rear of the store.

Bob placed his hands in his pockets and leaned back slightly, forcing his jacket open, displaying his ample belly.
 
He looked around the store approvingly.

The florist returned through a string bead doorway.

“It was ordered by Pinnacle Investments from their head office, in Seattle.”