The Navigators (30 page)

She viewed me with pain in her eyes. I wanted to say something, anything to make the hurt stop. It seemed as though it would crush her beating heart.

Still, I could find no adequate explanation that would release me from the terrible grip of the truth.

I swallowed hard. “I’m sorry.”

She slumped, burying her face in her hands.

Mr. Mills reached over and patted his daughter’s back. “Tomàs, I think you’ve done enough. Tomorrow. 8 A.M., here. Do I need to assign a security guard to you or can I trust you to show up?”

I sighed. “I will be here.”

“With your bags packed. I think the sooner you get out of here, the better.” He looked at Barry. “Maybe for your own safety at this point.”

“This whole thing stinks,” Findlay sneered, pointing at Mr. Mills. “You’re just a corrupt lawyer angling to help your buddy at the power company cover everything up. You just needed a few scapegoats like me and Peeky to hang out to dry. You’re just as bad as any of the rest of us. And I’m going to ruin you.”

“How’s that, exactly? You just admitted to computer fraud in front of a bunch of witnesses. I’m not sure now is the time to start trying to throw your weight around.”

Findlay grinned. “Your scheme is so generous. All the problems go away, except we’re still expelled and the rest of you make a bunch of money. I don’t think the voting public wants to elect a corrupt mayor.”

Mills scratched his head. “Findlay, were you dropped on your head as a baby? Let me tell you something about people. They know the truth when they hear it. They’ll always respect a man who stands up for other people, especially people who need help. That’s what I’ve done here today, even for you. I’m sorry you don’t see it that way.”

“It’s not about how I see it; it’s about what the voting public thinks.” He pointed at Janice. “This lady is a reporter with The Tampa Tribute and she has all the details. She knows all about what’s really going on.”

“I know. She told me.”

“What?” Findlay’s jaw dropped. “When?”

“Last night, after she hung up with you.” Mills smiled. “She was at my place at the time.”

Findlay turned to Janice. “You Judas! You’re corrupt, too. Hiding the story.”

She shook her head. “Findlay, I said the Tribute was interested in the story, and they are. I can’t predict which way an editor wants to portray things. I never said they’d tell the story your way.”

“Well, I can still do it.” Findlay pointed at Mr. Mills. “You have a fundraiser in a few hours. I was planning on watching you squirm in front of whoever showed up to throw tomatoes at the corrupt politician. Instead, I can march right out these doors and announce it to the world.” He pounded the table. “When you get to your big fundraiser downtown on the plaza this afternoon, I’ll be there with a bullhorn. I’ll tell what happened. You’ll never be mayor, buddy, that’s a guarantee.”

“Findlay, for a bright guy, you’re pretty damned stupid,” Mr. Mills said. “Didn’t your mother and father love you as a child?

Janice glanced at Findlay. “You don’t understand, do you?”

“Understand what?”

“When I told Michael what you told me, I knew what he would do.”

“Huh?” Findlay blinked. “What’s that?”

“He insisted we tell the public immediately.” Janice gazed at Mr. Mills. “He’s an honest man, and the voters love him for it. He insisted that we run the whole story in The Tribute’s online coverage. It’s been up for hours, the lead story on the news all morning . . . how he wanted to avoid the embarrassment for you and the other students, help the school, and everything else. He’s been above board this entire time.”

Findlay’s face sank and his shoulders slumped. “So everybody knows all this?”

“Pretty much.” Mr. Mills shrugged. “Now we just need to see how the voters take it. I’m guessing we’ll know after the fundraiser downtown.”

“You have it all figured out, don’t you?”

“Don’t take it personally, Findlay.” Mr. Mills glanced around the table. “Barry, you owe the very kind and understanding manager at Radio Shack thirty dollars. Turns out he’s a supporter of mine, so he agreed this was all more or less a rowdy college stunt.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And Ashby, your company is going to have to pay for the damage to the apartment building and the Sun Dome.”

“What!”

“Well, your board of directors can’t find out how stupid their CEO has been, running around potentially encouraging people to commit arson. You’ll lose your job, Ash.” He looked out at the shocked faces around the table. “That goes for the rest of you, too. Go home, get some rest, and come back after you’ve signed these releases my staff has prepared. It’s the best deal you’re going to get, trust me. Now scoot.”

“Not so fast, counselor.” It was one of the university lawyers. “I’m not so sure we should sign anything until we see how this sits with the public.”

Mr. Mills eyed them, his face turning red and a vein throbbing on his forehead. He faced Barry and spoke in measured tones. “You're originally from Miami, is that right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m not originally from Florida. Ohio was my home. I had to move here to paradise.” Mr. Mills stood up, walking behind his chair. “But I met an old boy down in your neck of the woods by the name of Mark Rothman. He’s an attorney and we did some business, and then we went fishing on his air boat. Out in the swamps. Saw a fifteen-foot alligator.”

“Impressive.”

“Indeed. Now, do you know how a fifteen-foot alligator gets to
be
a fifteen-foot alligator?”

Barry shrugged. “No, sir.”

“By not letting the world
know
it’s a fifteen-foot alligator.” He patted the back of the leather chair. “I guess sometimes it’s best to not draw attention yourself. On the other hand, do you know how an eighteen-foot alligator gets to be an eighteen-foot alligator?”

“How’s that?”

“By killing every God damned fifteen-foot alligator that crosses its path.” He narrowed his eyes and shot a look at the university lawyer. “Did you honestly think that I was going to let
your
professor order
your
campus police officers to shoot at
my
daughter—and just let it go?” There was fire in Mr. Mills eyes. The room was completely still.

“Or you, Findlay, you micro brain little turd, for what you took from her computer? That I’d let you get away with that?”

Findlay shrunk back into his chair. The verbal assault by Mr. Mills seemed to awaken him to a new reality.

Mills turned to the speakerphones. “Ashby, our friend at the power plant. You stirred up this hornet’s nest by poking the professor over here—who until then was basically a pretty law abiding buffoon whose only bad habit was illegally selling artifacts out the back door.”

“How dare you-”

Mills leaned on the table. “You all need to stop thinking about whether or not you can win a lawsuit or keep yourself out of jail, and start thinking about
whether I'm damn fool crazy enough to risk everything I have to protect my daughter!”
He slammed his fist into the table. “Because about now you should be realizing that I sure as shit
am
crazy enough. Did you think I called this meeting to save all of
your
asses? That’s just a happy byproduct for you, but if you give me a reason to change my mind, I will rip each of your fucking heads off. Am I making myself clear?”

Standing straight, Mills gritted his teeth. “By God, I ought to get my shotgun out of my office and shoot every damned one of you right now. And if I had that stupid time machine, I’d be hard pressed not to go throw it into a swamp. That way, nobody’d have it. It’s turned you all into a bunch of lunatics.”

He pointed at the door. “Now you take these releases and you show them to your lawyers or to your mama or whoever the hell you want to show them to, but my patience has just about run out and so has my generosity about not taking up my daughter’s
numerous
cases and suing every fucking one of you into bankruptcy. And you know I’ll do it. I’ll bury you in goddamned legal motions and complaints. I’ve taken on bigger fish than any one of you and flat fucking annihilated them.” He stormed to the doors and yanked them open. “Now all of you get out of here. Get your minds right, and get back here by nine o’clock Monday morning with a signed release, or at ten o’clock the legal filings start.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

“Dad?”

Mr. Mills took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He turned to his daughter. “Yes, sweetie?”

“We don’t have any way to get back to campus.”

He sighed. “Okay, have Terry call some cabs for you and the fellas. But Melissa, I’d appreciate it if you’d go to the house for now.”

“Why?”

“I just think it’s best, given the circumstances.”

I wished I could wait somewhere else, anywhere else. Anyplace but outside, with the friends whose trust in me I had just destroyed. But this was not the time. I slinked out of the room and headed to the front door. Barry and Melissa followed.

Only a shell shocked Findlay stayed behind.

As I walked across the beautiful wood floors and past the ornate couch, I felt the eyes of the world upon me, looking down on me, making me want to crawl into a hole. Worse than that, I felt the glare of my friends burning a hole into my back.

* * * * *

“Am I really going to jail?”

Mr. Mills nodded. “This computer hacking is serious stuff.”

Findlay eyed the floor.

“It felt like fun and games until now, huh?” Mr. Mills scratched his chin. “Yeah, that’s the problem. Politicians tend to think guys like you will grow up to hack places like Target and steal everybody’s credit card information. They’re getting tough.”

Findlay swallowed. “What should I do?”

“You can start by destroying the pictures. And apologizing.”

Findlay glanced up. “I’m sorry, Mr. Mills.”

Mills buried his face in his hands. “Not to me, you idiot.”

* * * * *

I stood on the sidewalk, searching for a cab. Any cab. A local TV news van was parked across the street. That was probably Findlay’s idea, to have a news crew waiting to hear him brag about taking down mayoral hopeful Michael Mills—before he went into the meeting and got his head taken off.

He wasn’t the only one.

Barry called to me. “Melissa says the cabs will be here in a minute. They have a place around the corner and they always rush for Mr. Mills.”

Melissa stood just beyond him with her back to me.

After a moment, he walked toward me, limping on the sore leg. “The receptionist called one for each of us, so you can go wherever you need to go.”

I looked at Barry. “I’ll be going to my little dorm room and doing some packing.”

He nodded. “Peeky…” He shifted his weight, rubbing his neck. “You know you didn’t need to do that stuff, not any of it. You didn’t have to lie to us. We always liked you and trusted you.”

“Because of who I was or what I could do for you?”

He shook his head. “Tomàs, you were my friend. That was enough.”

* * * * *

The first cab appeared in the distance. Barry walked to the curb and waved at it. He turned to Melissa. “Why don’t you take this one?”

She joined him, watching as the vehicle approached. “Thanks.”

“Are you going to your dad’s house?”

“Looks like it. You?”

He smiled, patting his leg. “I need to get back to the hospital. I’ve abused this leg and this cast. It’s killing me. They may have to amputate.”

As the cab rolled to a stop, he leaned over and opened the door. She stared at the seat for a second before climbing in. Then she looked up at Barry. “I—I’ll catch up with you. After the campaign rally or something.”

“Is your dad going to let you out of his sight again so soon?”

Melissa pushed a strand of hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “He will. He believes in second chances and not carrying a grudge. It’s one of his best qualities.” She forced a smile. “It’s pretty irritating sometimes.”

“No grudges? Could have fooled me. He seemed pretty hot up there.”

“Courtroom theatrics.” She waved her hand. “Most people aren’t used to it. I grew up with it. Sometimes he’d practice with me, like an actor going over his lines.”

“Theatrics? Well, if you say so.” He shifted his weight and looked down the street. “Do you think those guys will sign the releases?”

“Oh, they’ll sign them.”

“How can you be so sure?”

She drew a slow breath. “Because dad's got a reputation for not bluffing and everybody knows it. That’s what he meant by talk to your mommas. He was saying if they ask around, they’ll see he’s serious.”

“He talks in code, huh?”

“Yeah. It’s a lawyer thing.” Melissa sat in the cab, gazing up at him, not knowing what else to say, but not wanting the conversation to end with just the drab discussion of legal releases.

Barry said nothing, smiling back at her. It had been a long couple of days. There was still a lot that each of them wanted to say to the other. They had squandered too many opportunities.

“Where will I be taking you today, Miss Mills?”

She answered the cabbie but kept her gaze on Barry. “To my dad’s house, please.”

“Missy.” Barry leaned on the cab door, opening his mouth to speak, searching for the right words. None came. Exhaling, he patted the roof of the cab. “Catch up with me later, okay?” He pointed to his broken ankle. “You know where to find me.”

She smiled, nodding. “I will.”

He eased the door shut and watched the cab drive out of sight.

* * * * *

A second cab pulled up where the first one had been. Barry started for it, then stopped. He looked up at the big antebellum law office, then looked at me. “Hey, Peeky. Why don’t you take this one? I forgot something inside.”

Without waiting for my answer, he limped back up the steps and through the office’s ornate front door.

I walked up to the cab and let myself in, unable to focus my thoughts on anything but my own embarrassment and shame. The driver spoke to me, breaking my haze.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

He eyed me in the rear view mirror. “Where to?”

I sighed. “The freshman dorm at USF, please.”

“The university, eh? That’s quite a drive. You’re a long way from home.”

“Yes, I am.”

* * * * *

Barry rushed into the law office lobby. “Is Mr. Mills still here?”

Terry nodded. “He’s in his office right-”

Barry sped past her, hobbling as fast as he could.

“Sir, please wait!”

In his personal office, Mr. Mills was preparing to depart for his campaign rally. He picked up his keys and headed for the door, with Janice walking alongside him.

Barry opened it first.

“Mr. Mills, can I speak to you for a second?”

The lawyer bristled. “Barry, I’m on my way to an event and I’d kind of like to get there. Can we talk later?”

“It will only take a moment, sir.” He glanced at Janice. “It’s important.”

She nudged Mr. Mills. “Go ahead, Michael. We have a few minutes.”

He sighed, backing away from the doorway to let Barry enter. Janice slipped through. “I’ll be in the lobby.” She pulled the door closed behind her.

Mills stepped back to his desk. “What would you like to talk about?”

“Actually, I wanted to tell you something.”

“What’s that?”

Barry took a deep breath. “It was all me. There’s no reason to punish anybody else.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I did it all. Everything. The stolen time machine, the breaking into the Sun Dome, everything. It was all me. I’ll put it in writing right now.”

Mills put his hands on his hips. “It was you, eh. You did everything all by yourself?”

“No, I forced Melissa and Peeky to come along. And the others. They had to play ball or I’d throw them off my team.”

“That’s a big deal?” Mills shrugged. “Getting thrown off your ‘team’? What, your study group?”

Barry was practically standing at attention. “It’s a big deal. It was a guaranteed ‘A’ for them. I threatened them with that and with other things if they didn’t do exactly what I wanted. They didn’t want to. I made them. But I did all the major stuff that you were talking about.”

Mills folded his arms. “Like the time machine. You stole that?”

“I did. I made the others help me, but it was all my idea.”

“You broke into the Sun Dome?”

“That’s right.”

“You picked the locks on the Sun Dome gate and climbed up on the roof?”

“Yes sir.”

Mr. Mills pointed to Barry’s cast. “How’d you climb up that big gutter with a broken ankle?”

Barry looked him in the eye. “I pulled the truck up and stood on the roof. Then I climbed up. The officers guarding it probably told you they saw me driving it.”

Mills nodded. “They did. But they said other things, too.” He walked out from behind his desk, scratching his chin. “So you picked the locks on the security gate and drove the truck into the stadium?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Why would you lie about that?”

“It’s no lie. You can have them expel me. There’s no reason to expel Melissa and no reason to expel the others. Peeky, either.”

Mr. Mills went to his desk and opened a drawer, rummaging through it. “Okay, you climbed on top the Sun Dome with a broken leg, then you climbed back down and picked the lock on the gate, right?” He pointed to a door on the far side of his office. “That's my private bathroom. It has a very sophisticated lock on it. Very difficult to break in to there, that bathroom. Not sure why the contractor put such a high tech lock on a bathroom, but he did. It’s always annoyed me, but I’ve always been too lazy to change it out.”

He stood up. “Have a look at this.” He dropped several devices onto the desk. “These are the tools of the trade for burglars. Lock picks.” He thumbed through them. “Different kinds. I’ve acquired these from some of my clients over the years. Kind of kept them as souvenirs, you know?”

Mr. Mills pointed to the bathroom. “I’ll make you a deal. If you can pick that lock on my bathroom door, I’ll have no choice but to believe your story about breaking into USF and the rest of it.” He smiled. “What do you say? Take any set of tools you want and go unlock that door.”

Barry stared at the odd-looking assortment of devices on the desk.

“If you can get yourself out of that bathroom, I’ll convince everybody this whole thing was all your doing. You can take the rap all by yourself. The other students will walk.”

Barry reached over and grabbed one of the tools off the desk. He limped to the bathroom.

Mr. Mills followed. “How about a fifteen minute time limit?”

Nodding, Barry stepped into the bathroom. Mr. Mills locked the door and pushed it shut.

From inside the private restroom, Barry stared at the lock. He knelt down and held the tool to the keyhole, sliding it into the opening. It didn’t fit. He slumped his shoulders. He jiggled the knob a few times for good measure, sat back on his heels and sighed.

Mr. Mills opened the door. “You didn’t even pick up the right tool.
This
is a set of lock picks.” He dangled a ring of lock picks on one finger. “
That
is some kind of bizarre Chinese wrench set that came with my treadmill.” He pointed at the bathroom door. “And
that
was a cheap seven dollar lock from Home Depot. A rusty nail would have opened it.”

Chuckling, Mr. Mills moved back to his desk. “So we know you’re not a locksmith. Which means you didn’t break into the Sun Dome. But I think I know who did. I just want to know why you’re covering for her.”

Barry sighed. “I… it seems pretty unfair to let everybody get expelled, that’s all.”

“I can appreciate you feeling that way.”

“This whole thing just sort of spun out of control.”

“I can see that, too. Doesn’t change things.” He got up from his desk and went to the office door, opened it, and stood next to it silently.

Barry took the hint. He walked out without a word.

Janice passed him in the lobby. She entered Mr. Mills’ office. “What was that all about?”

Mr. Mills pulled his car keys from a pocket. “Oh, he was trying to be a hero or something. He volunteered that everything was his fault and offered to take all the blame for everybody.”

“Did you let him?”

“Why should I have? He’s obviously lying.”

“Why? Because he has eyes for your daughter, Michael. He’s trying to protect her.”

* * * * *

Findlay walked down the stairs at the front of Mills law office.

“It didn’t go like you thought, huh?” It was the news producer from the other day.

“Nope.” He stared up at the big law office building, then he looked at her. “How’d you guys find out about the meeting?”

“We got a tip. Some cop friend of yours. Officer Bolton?”

“Hah.” Findlay’s shoulders slumped. “Yeah, that figures.”

“He said we’d find a really explosive story here when the big meeting was all over. Guess not, huh?”