Accidents Waiting to Happen (39 page)

***

Bob Deuce’s desk, as messy as ever, was awash with paper, but the paperwork wasn’t related to his clients.
 
The debris was his research into Pinnacle Investments.
 
Since returning to the office after the funeral the day before, he’d immersed himself in the company’s history.
 
After calling friends in the industry, reading reports and financial data, he felt he had it all.
 
What he’d discovered was amazing—no, not amazing—fantastic.
 
It may have seemed wild, but what he believed to be the truth, wasn’t impossible.
 
If it hadn’t been for the tragic events that occurred in the last few weeks, he wouldn’t have believed it.

His phone rang from under a wad of papers and he waded through it to find it.
 
“Yes, Maria.”

“Call on line one for you, Bob,” she said.

He pressed the glowing key on the keypad.
 
“Bob Deuce, how can-”

“Bob, it’s me.”

“Josh, what’s up?”
 
The nervous edge to Josh’s voice frightened Bob.
 
Every time his friend called him, something bad had happened.
 
He dreaded the new turn of events.
 

“Have you got time to see me?”

“Yes, I suppose.
 
Where are you?”
 
Bob leaned over his desk on his elbows, his body stiff with fear.

“I’m outside on one of the payphones.”

“Here?
 
Josh, what’s this about?”

“I’ll be waiting by the phones.”

Bob sighed.
 
“Okay.”
 

The line went dead.

“Damn it,” he said to himself, with the phone still to his ear.

He replaced the receiver on the hook.
 
This was more bad news and he knew it.
 
He went into the office reception.

Maria looked up from her computer and smiled.

“I’m just going to get myself a coffee and something to eat.
 
I’ve got the munchies.”
 
He beamed a big smile and placed a hand on the door.

“Bob, you’ll be going home in a couple of hours, can’t you wait?”
 
Maria was still smiling but she deplored his overeating.

“Gotta keep the wheels of the food industry turning.
 
Can I get you something?”

“No, thank you,” she said and shook her head in dismay.

Once Bob passed out of view of Maria, he dropped the act.
 
The grin slipped into a frown.
 
He trotted across the shopping center parking lot to where Josh stood by the payphones.

“Bob, two people are dead,” Josh said.

Bob swallowed the shock instantly.
 
It isn’t healthy being Josh Michaels’ friend
, he thought.
 
“Not here.”

He guided Josh to a coffee shop on the corner of the mini mall next to the fitness center.
 
He sat Josh down on the plastic garden furniture in the farthest corner of the terrace away from prying ears.
 
Only a middle-aged woman in sunglasses, reading a newspaper sat outside, but she was on the other corner of the terrace.
 
Bob went into the coffee shop and returned with two coffees.

Bob hunched over his coffee and the small table.
 
“Who’s dead?
 
What’s happened?”
 

“I went to see Margaret Macey and I killed her,” Josh said.

The news slammed into Bob, leaving him bewildered.
 
He couldn’t quite comprehend what he was hearing.

Josh brought a hand to his forehead and rubbed it.
 
He stared wide-eyed through the table as he rambled.
 
“She wouldn’t answer her damned door so I called to her through the window and she had a heart attack or something.
 
I broke into the house to give her CPR, but it didn’t work.
 
She died.”
 

“Josh, listen to me.
 
You didn’t kill her.
 
She had a heart attack.
 
You’re being stupid.”

“She was so scared someone was going to kill her.
 
Those phone calls must have been a nightmare.”

“Look at me, Josh.”

He looked up.

“You didn’t kill her.
 
She had a heart attack,” Josh attempted to interrupt him and he raised a hand.
 
“She had a heart attack.
 
She would have had it with or without you.”

“Yeah, but it was me who caused it.”

“Yeah, it could have been the mailman, telephone repairman or the Jehovah’s witnesses.
 
You were the unlucky S.O.B. who triggered it.”
 
Bob placed a supportive hand on Josh’s shoulder.
 
“Okay?”

Slowly, Josh nodded.

“Did you call for an ambulance?”

“No.”

“Christ, Josh, you can’t leave her there.”

“But I can’t be seen at her home.”

Bob hated to admit it, but Josh was right.
 
The cops would be suspicious if he was found at the scene of her death.
 
He understood Josh’s logic.
 
“Alright, I’ll drop by.
 
If she’s still there then I’ll make a 911 call.”
 

“Thanks.”
 

“You said two people were dead.”
 

Bob surprised himself.
 
A month ago he wouldn’t have been so causal about dead people he was personally involved with.
 
Now, it was almost a way of life and he treated it as such.
 
He didn’t like that.

“I came home yesterday afternoon and I was picked up by this cop.
 
But he wasn’t a cop.
 
He was about to kill me when James Mitchell ran him down and shot him.”

From Josh’s brief description, Bob found it hard to take in the information.
 
He got Josh to expand on his account.

“James Mitchell.
 
I don’t get it.”
 
After a moment it dawned on him.
 
“Are you talking about this guy they found with his face shot off?”

Josh nodded.

“Jesus, I really don’t get it.
 
Why did Mitchell save you after trying to kill you?”
 
This mystified Bob.
 
It didn’t make sense.

“I don’t understand it myself, but I think if I hadn’t got my ass out of there, there would have been two bodies found.”

“Go home, Josh, and stay there.
 
I need time to think.”
 
Bob paused.
 
“I’ll pick you up and take you to breakfast.
 
I’ve found some things out about Pinnacle Investments.
 
I think I can make some sense of this mess and you might be able to fill in some of the blanks.”

“Kate said she’d leave me if I went to Margaret Macey’s.”

“Go home,” Bob said sternly.
 
“Put on a good show and don’t tell Kate.
 
You’re not going to lose that woman.
 
She’s the best thing to ever happen to you.
 
I won’t let you screw it up.”

“He’ll be coming for me next and there’s nothing to stop him.”

“I know.”
 

Chapter Twenty-seven

The diner was busy for a Saturday morning, but not so busy that Josh and Bob couldn’t select their table.
 
Bob picked the corner booth and a hostess showed them to it.
 
They slid into the booth and she gave them each a large, laminated menu.
 
Bob put down the manila envelope he’d brought with him.

“Your server will be with you in a minute,” the hostess said and left.

Josh waited until she was out of earshot.
 
“Did you go to her house?”

“Yeah, when I got there they were loading her into the ambulance,” Bob said.

Josh sighed with relief.

“Don’t relax too much.
 
That means someone either found her or saw something that made them call it in.”

Josh frowned.
 
Bob was right.
 
Who had called the ambulance?
 
He hoped no one could identify him or his car.
 
He started to speak but saw the approaching waitress.

She was a plain looking woman in her late forties, tall, but her dyed brown hair scooped up into a pineapple sprout made her look even taller.
 
She seemed like a seasoned waitress—sharp and straight talking with asbestos hands for easily handling hot plates and jugs of coffee without the aid of mitts.

“My name’s Laura and I’ll be your server today.
 
What can I get you gents this morning?”
 
A Southern twang scrubbed thin by years of living in California’s melting pot tinged her speech.
 
“Coffee to start, maybe?”

Bob and Josh agreed and she filled the mugs already present on the table.
 
Both men quickly scanned their menus.
 
Bob went for a sausage skillet with home fries and eggs sunny side up.
 
Josh ordered the scrambled eggs, hash browns and toast.
 
The waitress thanked them with a smile and relieved them of the cumbersome menus.

They sat in silence drinking coffee and pondering Josh’s problems.
 
Neither knew what to say or where to start.
 
Laura returned with their breakfasts.
 
After several moments of eating, Bob spoke.

“How’s Kate?
 
Does she suspect anything?” Bob asked.

“No,” Josh replied.

The seasoned waitress returned with a steaming jug of coffee and overheard a snippet of the two men’s conversation.
 
“Refill?” she asked sternly.

“Yes, please.”
 
Bob saw the hate smoldering in her eyes.
 
“Wedding anniversaries.
 
We men can never plan surprises.
 
It’s a very fine line we walk, as husbands.”

The extinguished hateful look became a warm smile.
 
“How many is it, darlin’?” she asked Josh.

Momentarily confused, he picked up the thread.
 
“Tenth,” he said.

She tapped Josh on the shoulder and wrinkled her nose at Bob.
 
“Still a kid.
 
He’s still got lots to learn.”

Bob laughed.
 
“That he has.”

The waitress topped up their mugs and moved to another table in need of service.

Bob explained what he’d found out about Pinnacle Investments.
 
His discovery was punctuated with mouthfuls of food snatched from the plate in front of him.

 
“The first thing you need to understand is you didn’t cash in your life insurance policy.”
 
Bob swallowed the mouthful of chewed food and waved a fork at Josh.

“But that’s what you did for me, isn’t it?”

“No.
 
I made a viatical settlement.
 
That basically means Pinnacle Investments gave you a cash settlement that was a percentage of the face value of your policy.
 
They continue paying your monthly contributions until you die.”

“Why do that?
 
Why continue paying my contributions?”

“Because when you’re dead, they collect on the policy.
 
That’s how viatical settlements work.
 
In effect, you made them the beneficiary of your life insurance.”

Josh picked up his coffee.
 
“So why did you do that and not cash in the policy?”

“Because you wanted a lot of money quick.
 
If I surrendered your policy, I would have gotten next to nothing, a few thousand at best.
 
But by making a viatical settlement, I got you a serious slice of your policy back.”

“The fifty-seven thousand.”

 
“Right, which is about ten percent of the face value.
 
And that’s still a poor pay out.
 
If you were terminally ill or very old, you would have received a cut of up to seventy-five percent of the face value.”

“Jeez, that would have been well into six figures.”
 
Wide eyed, Josh was astonished by the money that could be raked in.