A Smudge of Gray (11 page)

“Where am I?”

His eyes locked with the pale green
abstract on the wall. It sucked him in, stole his focus, tightened his stomach.
He couldn’t look away, yet he couldn’t look. As his mind screamed, a ring
pierced his ears. Brian tried to remove the sound, but it screeched louder and
louder like a raven spewed from hell. Then, he realized what it was—his cell
phone.

“It found me,” he whispered.

Brian punched his head and finally
removed the trance. He entered the kitchen, collected himself, and answered the
phone.

“Detective Boise speaking.”

A void returned, a void of uncertainly
that made the shiver return to his backbone.

“Hello?” Brian asked as he removed the
phone from his ear to see the caller ID, but the voice he heard stopped him
cold.

“Hey, Dad.”

Brian smiled as his son’s voice removed
him from his dread and filled his body and his mind with a sense of safety.

“Hey, tiger. What’re you up to?”

“Just getting ready for school. What are
you doing?”

“Oh, I’m just working. You know,” Brian replied
as he stared at the place of death marked on the floor. “How’s Mom?”

“She’s good,” Jonathan replied, but then
his voice changed as an ounce of fear consumed his nine-year-old vocal cords.
“I think she’s mad at you. Are you going to get a divorce?”

“Hey. You don’t worry about silly things
like that. Your mother and I love you so much. Nothing will ever change that.”

“Are you coming to my basketball game after
school?”

“Oh, another big game, huh?” Brian
stalled as he looked around the room.

“Yeah, we’re playing the orange team.”

“Ah, the orange team. They sound weak,”
Brian joked with his fatherly voice.

“Ha! Can you come, Dad?”

“Okay. What time is it?”

“Three o’clock. Really? You’ll come? You
promise?”

Brian looked at the ray of light shining
through the drapes as his son’s words rang in his mind.

“Yes. I promise. Have a good day at
school, son. I love you,” Brian returned.

“I will, Dad. I love you too. Bye.”
Jonathan ended the call.

Brian hung up his phone as the silence
of death returned. While he felt overwhelmed with uncertainty, one thing was
certain—his son presented him with an objective, a clear path in an unclear
world. The darkness of the case consumed his mind and his body, which pushed him
to the point of no return. Brian hoped seeing his family would somehow bring
him back to the light, but he feared this time that they too were lost in the
darkness.

Chapter 16

A woman in her early twenties typed
an email. Her long nails, painted green, clattered off the keyboard as she
formed words such as “poor” and “subpar,” which referred to a faulty business
card order. Her writing was short, brief. It was a style from years of texting
on her cell phone. She closed the email with a valediction carefully chosen.
She decided to type “Very Respectfully” because her email referenced the
lackluster print quality of the business cards that she had received for her
boss. The young woman added her name, “Megan Sharp,” and then she included her title,
“Office Assistant,” followed by her company’s name, “Malloy Consulting
Service.” She scanned the email for word choice that the spell checker could
never correct. But before she could hit send, her desk phone rang, prompting
her green nails to surround the black plastic receiver.

“Malloy Consulting Service. May I help
you?” her dainty voice answered as she ran her left hand through her blonde
hair, highlighted with brown.

Her phone connected with a cellular
phone service, which beamed the signal from a tower to a handset inside a BMW
X3 Sport Utility Vehicle, a handset held by her boss’ wife—Laura Malloy.

“Hi, Megan. Is my husband available?”
Laura asked as she navigated through the morning traffic.

“Oh, hi, Misses Malloy. Let me check.”

Megan pressed a few buttons on her phone,
a device that took her a month to figure out.

Behind the door labeled “Trevor Malloy –
President,” the man who signed her paycheck sat at his desk. He wore a white fitted
dress shirt and black silk tie that begged to be caressed. A 4 x 6 inch photograph
of his family in Times Square sat directly in his view, but his focus was on
the 24” computer monitor on his desk. Trevor clicked the mouse as he squinted his
eyes. The pixels in the screen formed stock charts that all dropped over time.
As he remained motionless staring at the 16 million color display, his desk
phone buzzed.

“Mister Malloy. I have your wife on line
one.”

“Please, put her through,” Trevor
returned as the picture of his family pacified him.

He picked up the phone and sat back,
stretching his spine.

“Hi, honey,” Trevor said.

“Hey, sweetie. I just dropped the kids off
at school and thought I’d stop by. You’ve been working all night, huh?” Laura
replied as she used her blinker to signal her detour into the underground
parking.

“Well, I’m always working. Come on up. I
have something to show you,” Trevor revealed, as his mood uplifted.

“I’m driving underground to park so I
may lose you.”

“You’ll never lose me. See you in a
few.”

Trevor returned the phone to its cradle
and returned his focus to his computer screen. He used his mouse pointer and
minimized window after window of stock charts, all heading south. Finally, he
came across the last window on his screen. It showed a family posing in their
bathing suits under the summer blue sky. It wasn’t the clothing he cared about,
or even the summer scene, rather it was the object modeled by the family of
four—the large in-ground pool.

Six minutes after Megan transferred
the phone call to her boss, the door opened. Laura sauntered inside enveloped
in a gently fitted double-breasted wool coat with side pockets. She held a four-cup
coffee holder filled with three tall cups of traditional black. Megan minimized
her Instant Messenger window and looked at her new visitor standing next to
The
Scream
—a painting that she detested.

“Hey, Misses Malloy,” Megan said with an
over-exaggerated smile.

“Here you go, dear,” Laura replied as she
placed one of the coffees on Megan’s desk.

“Thank you so much.”

“Is he in his office?”

“Yes, he’s expecting you. Go right in.”

Laura walked toward the door and read
the words scripted in Times New Roman font. A peculiar feeling always came over
her when she approached the sturdy slab of wood, as if the name would suddenly
be gone one day, replaced with a new tenant. But the name was always there when
she had checked, and the man behind the door, her husband, always convinced her
he would be there—he had ever since she met him by chance that one day ten
years ago when she was working in the men’s department at Saks Fifth Avenue. It
was the way he had been dressed that stimulated her, the perfect dimple in his
tie, and the crease in his pressed pants. And the one thing that she remembered
most was how his shoes glistened under the store’s lights.

Laura nudged the door, as she smelled something
so familiar, something that appeased her for the past ten years. Her eyes
adjusted to the softer light as she sneaked into the space. Laura wanted to try
to catch him in a candid moment, a moment that captured her husband when he
thought no one was looking. But as she entered, he looked at her from across
the room as if he too had sensed his other half.

“Come on in,” Trevor announced.

Laura saw him sitting on the edge of his
desk. His hand vacillated as he buffed something. Laura wandered past
The
Starry Night
as her eyes rested on the black sock on her husband’s right
foot, and then she looked at her husband, polishing one of his shoes. As she
reached Trevor, the sweet smell that had gripped her at the door soured into a
synthetic stench.

“What do you think of this?” Trevor
asked as he displayed his shoe.

The dark charcoal gray glimmered in the
light and reflected like a polished butcher knife. Trevor placed the cloth down
next to a yellow tin, which stored the polish that shined his shoes.

“Perfect, as usual,” Laura replied. “I
brought you something hot,” she continued as she placed Trevor’s coffee on his
desk.

“I need something hot.” Trevor had a
look in his eyes, a look that hooked her. He opened his arms and wrapped them
around his wife. He entered the confines of her wool coat and pulled her close.
Trevor buried his head into Laura’s auburn hair. As both embraced, he leaned in
and kissed her tenderly.

“I want to show you something, come
around,” Trevor said as he stepped into his polished shoe.

Laura grabbed her coffee and followed
her husband around the desk. She glanced at the papers covering it. Stock
graphs topped one pile as a document plastered with “Contract for Services” in
its header rested on the top of another, but Laura had no time to read the fine
print. He offered her a chair. She lowered, but saw something yellow invading
the black cushion. Laura caught herself and removed the yellow lid to the shoe
polish tin.

“The wrong person’s going to get covered
with this,” Laura barked just enough to make her point known.

“There it is,” Trevor said with a
culpable smile. He joined the canister with its lid.

“Where do you get that stuff?”

“The place where we’re taking our next
vacation.”

“Vegas?”

“No. Italy,” Trevor laughed.

 “So this is the master at work,” Laura
joked as she looked out from behind the desk at the walls lined with Trevor’s
prizes. “This is like your second home, isn’t it? Or is it your third?”

Laura turned to Trevor’s computer screen
as he swiveled it to give her the best view. He maximized the window showing
the in-ground pool.

“I wanted to surprise you and the kids,”
Trevor said.

“A pool?”

“Yeah, what do you think? We have the
room in the backyard and I know the kids would love it. Especially the diving
board.”

“Can we afford it?”

“Hey, don’t worry about that. Business
has been very good lately,” Trevor explained, as he brushed Laura’s hair from
her face.

“But I thought the stock market has been
taking a nose dive? That’s what they say on
The View
.”

“That’s why I’ve been working more,
traveling more. I’m trying to strategically select my services.”

“
Strategically select my services
.
I wish I could do that. I need to figure out how to strategically select
between the washing machine and the stove.”

“Let’s hire a maid then,” Trevor said.

“I’m only joking.”

“No, I’m serious. Don’t you remember
what I promised you when I asked you to marry me?”

Laura blushed. “Of course I do.”

“And I still mean that today, always. I
wanted you never to have to work, and I only want you to do what you truly
enjoy.”

“I enjoy taking care of my family.”

“Well, if you ever get tired of us—”

“I would never get tired of the kids.
You
on the other hand…” Laura joked.

Trevor smiled, but then the smile faded.
“I hated how my mom had to work when I was growing up. And my dad worked so
hard for so little money.”

“That’s what public servants have to
sacrifice.”

“If my dad was still here today, I would
tell him that the world turns because of businessmen…not public servants.”

“I wish I’d had a chance to meet your
parents.” Laura took a sip of coffee and repositioned her chair, but her right
foot, protected by only black leather, nailed something stout under the desk. “Ouch!”

She tried to save her coat from a
mouthful of coffee as the twinge in her toes tormented her. Laura swallowed and
looked under the desk. She saw Trevor’s black briefcase. Laura put her coffee
down and picked up the case, but Trevor grabbed it before she could feel its
weight. He placed it on the other side of the desk—his side.

“What’s in that thing?” Laura
asked.

“Just some tools for my job.”

“What kind of tools? Lead bricks?”

Trevor chuckled as Laura stood from her
chair to stretch her toes. She gravitated toward
The Starry Night
just
as most did in front of the masterpiece. Trevor followed her and cased his
office. She outlined the painting’s mahogany wood frame with her finger.

“So, what exactly have you been working
on lately? You’ve always been so secretive,” Laura inquired.

“Consulting.”

Laura shifted toward the degree on the
adjacent wall, which hung just like van Gogh’s masterpiece across from it.

“Master of Business Administration with
Minor in Mathematics. Trevor Malloy,” Laura repeated. “Big office, young
secretary, frequent flyer miles, you have it all.”

Trevor grabbed her from behind and wooed
her with his most deadly quality, his masculinity.

“And most importantly, a beautiful family,”
Trevor whispered into her ear.

Laura broke free from her husband. She
kept her eyes forward as he followed. Even though his name was on the door, Mrs.
Trevor Malloy was making herself known.

“I know all about you,” Laura said.

Trevor stopped cold.

She returned to the desk and grabbed her
coffee. Then, she studied the wall housing Trevor’s hidden room.

“You think you can hide it from me? I’ve
been with you for too long. I know you. I know
all
about you.”

Laura looked at Trevor’s desk. The
picture of her family stole her focus.

“Where?” she asked.

“Where is what?”

Trevor’s heart raced. He felt sweat
saturate his dress shirt. He didn’t like this feeling.

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“Uh… No.”

“The new pool… The money…”

Trevor froze.

“I can read the hints,” Laura said
firmly.

“Hints?”

“You’re taking us on a vacation. Where?”

Trevor exhaled and chuckled.

“A vacation? I don’t have a vacation
planned…not yet,” Trevor said as he embraced his wife.

“I thought you were hinting at a
vacation. I want to go to Italy.”

“Let’s go. All of us. Once the kids are
on break,” Trevor said.

Laura smiled. “Are you going to make it
to Kevin’s game today at three o’clock?”

“Of course.”

“They’re playing the orange team and
he’s really excited,” she said in his arms.

Laura let herself return to the wife of
the businessman. But she returned because Trevor liked her in that position, a
position that he could predict, a position that allowed him to love his family
while he worked. Trevor held her tightly as she gave him a kiss, but she knew
something was different about him; he seemed nervous.

He removed his lips and squeezed her. “I
wouldn’t miss the game for the world.”