81
Aligned Design
Ch 14
"Lady, we're here. Lady?" The driver pulled up in front of the hotel. He jumped out and ran around to the rear passenger door. He yanked it open and bent in.
Gleason sat with eyes closed. "Lady, you ok?"
"Yes, give me a minute, please." She struggled to get her bag from her shoulder. "Here, here, let me . . . let me pay you." Her voice was barely above a whisper.
Loomis, the doorman, walked to the cab and asked, "Everything ok here?"
The driver said, "No, no. This lady is sick." He turned and looked at Loomis." I picked her up here and she was fine." He turned back and looked at Gleason. "We headed to the university and she asked to come back. She looks really weak. Lady, you ok?"
Loomis bent over and peeked through the window of the open back door. "Dr. Wintermantle, hey, what's wrong? Can I get you anything? Huh?"
"I'll be fine. I just haven't eaten anything today. I think I'm just weak. I'll be fine when I eat something." She was practically gasping as she said all of this.
"Hey, wait here. Leave her in your cab for a minute, ok?" Without waiting, Loomis dashed back into the lobby and jogged to the small pantry/store beside the business office. The hotel had no real gift shop. Rather, a small, open closet sat recessed to the left of the business office. It held shelves bearing chips, microwave popcorn, pens, and such. A cooler offered cold bottles of various sodas, juices and microwaveable goods. Loomis grabbed a bottle of orange juice and hurried back to the curb.
Antonio stepped from the office behind the front desk and saw his colleague dash by. He stepped around the desk and looked out the glass doors. He saw a cab with the driver and Loomis looking into the back seat. He went to see if he could help.
Bobby decided to head to the gym instead of the range. He didn't trust himself with a weapon, even though his own sat locked in the glove box of his vehicle. He changed his clothes and found a free treadmill. He upped the incline and ran. Hard. He ran. And ran. In his mind, he saw himself running away from Eames, Deakins, and Richie. He ran away from the office. He ran away from Carmel Ridge. He ran from his mother. He ran from everyone and everything that pulled on him. Sweat poured from him. He sucked air. Still he ran. Hard.
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"Where's your partner?" Deakins asked Eames, nodding to the empty seat.
"He said he was going to the range."
"So, anything new since this morning?" Deakins asked.
Eames didn't know exactly how to respond. "Not really. He's still different. Odd. Well, more odd than usual. He seems to be in another world a lot of the time."
Deakins noticed her eyes. She's been crying, he thought. "Alex, we're going to get him well. He's got a lot of support. I am certain he'll be fine. It's going to take time, but Bobby will be himself. You need to believe that."
Eames looked up at her boss. "I know."
"Why don't you head out? This has been one hell of a day, huh?"
"That'd be nice. Thanks, I will." Deakins nodded and walked back to his office.
Eames stood and began to organize the papers and folders on her desk. She glanced Sledge's way but he was on the phone. She decided to go to the ladies room. She'd catch his eye when she returned.
Deakins watched his tiny sharpshooter stand and saw her glance over to Sledge's desk. The big guy was on the phone and missed her look. Where's she going, he wondered. His phone rang and he turned to answer it.
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Jenese felt good. He was rid of that skanky bitch, Sarah. He was rid of Canvettelli. Ha, and neither one had a clue they would never again enjoy the things Jenese could do. Fuck you both, 'cause I'm not gonna anymore. Jenese smiled lasciviously.
He was on his way to get the art and then on his way to Baltimore. A new scam, new money, new pieces of ass. Yep, life is good, he thought. He was looking forward to seeing Tillman again. Jesus, what that man could do with Jenese's lower parts. He twitched with anticipation.
Now, where the fuck is that big green beetle of a truck? Where are you? Come out; come out, wherever you are . . .
Jenese turned right and, son-of-a-bitch, there he is! Jenese couldn't believe it. He pulled up two cars behind Navicky's truck. Soon, soon, I'm gonna be one rich bastard.
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Bobby slowed on the treadmill. He was soaked with sweat. The muscles in his legs quivered. Finally, he stopped and set one hand on each of the side rails. He leaned with his head down, breathing hard. His mind was perfectly clear. Oh, that was good! Yes, so good. His breathing slowed and he stood upright, he checked his watch. Yeah, I've got time, he thought.
Bobby wiped his face and neck with his towel and, when he could trust his legs, he moved to the free weights. He would increase his reps by three each set. He would increase the number of sets as well. He didn't need to increase the weight; he needed to be able to go longer, more times. He smiled inwardly at the alternative context for what he just said to himself. Gleason will call tonight. She will. She will call.
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Eames returned from the ladies' room. Deakins saw her through the glass walls of his office. He saw her look straight over at Sledge's desk. Deakins stood and walked around his desk to see what Sledge was doing. Ah, ha! He saw Sledge look over at Eames. He watched the other man watch her. Eames went to her desk, stood and began to put away papers and folders. Deakins' eyes moved back to Sledge. He's watching her, he thought to himself. Uh huh, I thought so. Deakins watched Eames begin to shut down her computer. He glanced back at Sledge. Son-of-a-gun, Sledge is closing up shop as well. Boy, I had a hunch. But this confirms it. Eames and Sledge, huh? He shook his head and smiled slightly.
Deakins always thought Eames had feelings for Goren. Her partner was a good-looking man. They got along, of course. But he just couldn't see Bobby with Eames. She was not his type. Gleason, now Gleason was Bobby's type. Beautiful, smart, cultured. Goren was a lucky man to have such a wonderful woman. He hoped that whatever had happened between them could be fixed. She was good for him.
Deakins had been taken with the good professor as well that Wednesday morning when she'd shown up for her presentation. But, he had Angie; and, he was a good husband. He'd never.
Eames and Sledge. I guess stranger things have happened. He shook his head and went to his desk. He picked up the phone and dialed his wife's number.
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"Ok, that's the last one," Navicky said, hopping back into the cab.
"Thank God!" Pangborn said with feeling. "Ok, now," he clapped his hands once and rubbed them together. He turned in his seat and looked at the other man, "Here's what happens next. You're going to drop me off at your vehicle. You're going to return this bug green parcel hearse of yours and meet me at your car. You are going to drive me to my car and leave yours. Then, my good man, I am going to drive us both to wherever you have stashed the paintings. We're going to get the goods, drive you back to your vehicle, I'm going to pay you, and we'll never see each other again, God willing. Sound like a plan?"
Navicky thought it through. "Yeah, sounds good. I'll be glad when this is over." He put the truck in gear and headed to the shipping lot.
Jenese kept two cars between them.
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"Dr. Wintermantle! What's wrong? Move," Antonio shoved the driver out of the way. Loomis stepped back as well.
Gleason opened her eyes and smiled at Antonio. "I'm ok, I just haven't eaten Antonio. I'll be ok. Here, help me out of the cab, would you?"
"No, no. You stay put." Loomis held out the bottle of orange juice.
Antonio took it, unscrewed the cap and held it out to her with, "Now just a sip. You're going to feel like you're going to throw it back up, but hold onto it. It will stay. Just a sip."
She took the bottle and took a sip. Oh, no! She clamped her lips shut and put a hand over her mouth. Her eyes slammed shut and she gagged. Twice.
"Oh, no, Lady! Let's get her out of there, ok?" the driver suggested with more than mild concern.
"No, she'll be ok. It will just take a few minutes," Antonio replied. "Dr. Wintermantle, are you all right? You ok?"
Gleason nodded and lowered her hand.
"Take another little sip. Just a sip. Slowly." He watched her take another sip. Gleason sipped with eyes closed. "That's it. Good. Better?"
Gleason nodded and carefully took another sip. She wasn't so queasy now. The orange juice was sweet and cold. Bobby loves orange juice, she thought. She took another sip, more of a drink. There, better.
"Oh, Antonio, Loomis, thank you. Thank you."
"Just sit for a moment. Finish the juice. Then we'll get you up to your room. Drink it slowly." Antonio fussed over her. Loomis went to another cab that had pulled up and saw to those people. Her cab driver stood watching.
Gleason took another sip of juice and reached for her bag. She removed her wallet and took out two twenties. She replaced her wallet and handed the money out to the driver.
"Here, please take this. I've caused you so much trouble. Let me pay for the fare and your kindness."
"Oh, no. Lady, no, no. I'm not taking anything. You were sick. I did what any one would do. No, no," the driver put up both hands and backed away. She saw Bobby in that move.
"Please, I insist. Let me do this. You have been so kind. Please."
The driver just shook his head. Gleason let her hand fall to her lap; she didn't have the strength to argue. She took another drink of juice. "I think I should go inside."
Both men reached for her, Loomis hovered in the back. She reached up and put her hand on the back of the front seat to boost herself out. Her fingers dropped the currency onto the front seat. The driver was a good, good man.
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Bobby finished his reps and his biceps quivered and hurt. He felt good. He checked the time and saw that he didn't have time for anything else. He stood, threw his towel around his neck and returned the weights. Then he headed for the locker-room. Gleason would call in a little more than an hour. His stomach quivered as well. She's going to call me. She will. He smiled.
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Navicky dropped Pangborn at his car in the employee car park. "I've got to go check out and then I'll be back. It might take half hour or so. I'll be back."
Pangborn leaned against the driver's door of Navicky's car. He crossed his arms. Poor son-of-a-bitch, he's clueless. Thinks I'm going to pay him. What a sap. Now I know what they mean buy 'taking candy from a baby.'
Pangborn thought through how it would play out. Wish I knew where those goddamn paintings were. He shifted to the other leg and put his hands in his pockets. He was in no hurry. It would all be over in about an hour.
What the hell, what's he doing? Jenese watched the truck head into the employee car park and trundle over to Navicky's beat up Honda. He pulled to the curb and got out, looking through the chain link fence. Who the fuck is that? Jenese saw a man hop from the cab, turn and look back up inside. The guy nodded, leaned back against Navicky's car and the truck lumbered away.
Jesus Christ, that must be the other taker he was talking about. Son-of-a-bitch, now what? Jenese looked at his watch. He drove around the block and parked down the street from the employee car park. He sat and thought over what to do. Fuck, now he'd have to off them both. Complications, nothing was ever easy. Damn!