Gotcha! (21 page)

“Any news on Tanks?” Macy asked Agent Adkins as she approached his car in the nursing-home parking lot.

“Nothing yet.”

Macy explained that when delivering pizzas to a facility, it usually took a few minutes to find the person in charge to sign off. “Give me at least ten minutes before you freak.” The FBI agent didn’t look happy, but she also saw the latest James Patterson book beside him and figured he wasn’t going to miss her that much.

Inside the old-folks home, she looked for someone who didn’t look official enough to throw her out, but with enough snap to give her information. Searching around, Macy knew she didn’t have a lot of time.

A man in a wheelchair rolled by. Then she spotted a janitor sweeping out a supply closet.

“Hi!” Macy smiled at the man. “I’m trying to find the hall Ellie Chandler works. She’s a nurse’s aide, blonde, with a high voice?”

The man, late fifties and balding, looked up from his broom. “Ellie’s not working today.”

“I know.”
Think fast.
“I’m supposed to deliver this to one of her patients, and I forgot which room.”

“She works the B hall. But you should check with the nurses. Some of the folks are on restrictive diets.”

Think faster, Macy!
“Oh. Well, Ellie’s ordered pizza for this person before. Mrs. What’s-her-name. One of Ellie’s favorites.” Macy prayed Ellie had a favorite.

“Probably Mrs. Kelly,” the man said. “Suite B-15. I know she’s not on a restrictive diet.”

“Thanks.” Macy started to go. Then: “Do you know when Ellie is supposed to be back?”

The janitor frowned. “I heard she called in at the last minute and needed a bunch of time off. It’s not like her.”

“Not like her, how?” Macy tried to sound causal.

“She cares more about her patients than most of their own families. Comes in on her days off. Bakes them birthday cakes.”

“That’s Ellie for you.” Macy forced a smile.

“Most patients call her an angel. She’s damn near it.”

“Yeah. Well, I should get this to Mrs. Kelly.”

Macy hurried off to find room B-15.
Who are you, Ellie? And who are you to Billy? Friend or foe?

Jake made sure they had pictures of the taggings. Probably all gang related. They were connected to Tanks—he sensed it in his gut. A feeling of accomplishment stirred in his belly. This was going to help him find his quarry.

While Mark asked Mr. Brown questions in the living room, Jake walked around and listened with a half an ear.

“…in the billboard business,” he heard Mr. Brown say. “They took most of my air brushes and compressors. That’s how I make my living.”

“What kind of billboards?” Mark asked.

“The kind you see on the freeway,” the man snapped. “Do you give me the paperwork to report to my insurance?”

Jake hadn’t forgotten the look of guilt the man wore when he’d first stumbled across him in the backyard. Walking over to an entertainment center, Jake studied the area where the TV had sat.

Mark’s tone caught Jake’s attention. “How did they get the safe open?”

Jake moved forward. This wasn’t the MO of the other burglaries. They’d snatched accessible items—TVs, computers, that sort of thing—and left. They hadn’t messed with safes.

“I—I don’t know,” Mr. Brown stammered. “M-my wife could have left it open.”

Jake studied the man’s expression. “What’s missing?”

The man looked over at him. “My wife’s jewelry. Family heirlooms.”

Jake crossed his arms over his chest. “And where is your wife, Mr. Brown?”

The man’s face paled. “She’s at the hospital with our daughter. She’s heading up our little girl’s cancer-fund campaign. She’s got a lot on her plate right now. Can’t you just leave her out of this?”

“It’s our job to cover all the bases,” Mark said. He obviously sensed Jake’s distrust.

Mr. Brown’s shoulders squared. “Our kid is fighting for her life. Can’t you cut us a break?”

“I’m sorry,” Mark said, but his eyes didn’t hold the sympathy stirring inside of Jake. “We’ve got to do our job.”

It was the word
cancer
, used in the same sentence with
little girl
, that got to Jake. Seeing his dad suffer had been hell. He couldn’t imagine a child dealing with it. “What kind of cancer?”

“Leukemia.”

“Are they doing a bone-marrow transplant?” Jake asked.

The man gripped his hands into fists. “Already tried. Didn’t work. There’s a new drug, experimental, but the insurance won’t pay. So my wife is working with some community leaders….”

Jake glanced out the window to where he’d seen Mr. Brown by the old Mustang. Sympathetic or not, his suspicions deepened.

Macy looked at her watch. She sat in Mrs. Kelly’s room discussing sweet Ellie Chandler and praying the FBI agent shadowing her in his car was still patiently waiting. She would have left five minutes ago, but the woman kept talking, and Macy was holding on to each word, praying something useful might be said.

“I hope she’s okay.” Mrs. Kelly sighed. “It’s probably Ellie’s brother got himself in some trouble again.”

“That’s it!” Macy said.

“What’s it?”

“I forgot she had a brother.” Macy’s mind played connect the dots. Jake’s file had stated that Ellie was an only child. Macy remembered Billy telling her that the only reason Ellie was involved with Tanks was because of her brother. That might be important.

“Do you know if her brother lives with Ellie?” Macy asked.

Mrs. Kelly picked up her cup of tea. “She says he comes and goes. Sounds as if the boy still has some growing up to do.”

Glancing at her watch, Macy stood. “I’ve got to go. I’m so sorry about Fred.” She squeezed the woman’s hand in true sympathy for the loss of a friend. “Take care.”

“I will.” Mrs. Kelly’s eyes teared up. “Tell Ellie I said thank you for the pizza. I’ll heat it up for dinner.”

Yet another lie she’d told. Macy winced.
For Billy
, she reminded herself as she hurried out.

As she passed a phone in the lobby, she considered calling Jake to give him her information. Then again, it might be better to finish her investigation first. It wouldn’t help to be giving the police false information. She might be pulling them off the right track.

As she stepped out the door, she saw the FBI agent rising out of his car. She waved and hurried to her vehicle before he had a chance to question her. As she moved, she felt a twinge of pain in her shoulders, a side effect from her accident, but it was nothing aspirin wouldn’t cure. Her heart pain was another matter.

Macy headed next to the home of the wife of one of the escaped convicts. Chase Roberts had been David Tanks’s cell mate. Macy wasn’t sure how this might help her find Billy, but at least she was trying. She checked her rearview mirror for her shadow. Spotting him, she smiled.

How could Jake get mad when she had her assigned bodyguard with her?

Jake walked out of Mr. Brown’s house. Donaldson met him by his car. “I can’t believe you did that,” he said.

“Did what?” Jake opened his car door.

“You saw him hide it, didn’t you? When you went into the backyard.”

“I didn’t see anything,” Jake answered honestly. “The guy’s house was really robbed.”

“Maybe. But you expect me to believe that the guys who robbed this place dropped more than fifty thousand dollars worth of jewelry in the backyard? And you just happened to find it?”

Ignoring Mark, Jake pulled out his phone and dialed his house to see if Macy had left yet. His answering machine came on. She had to be at the doctor.

“He was trying to pull off an insurance scam,” Mark accused. “He’s lying about everything.”

“You don’t believe his daughter has cancer?”

“Probably not. He made it up just in case you called him on the jewelry. What’s the chance of an insurance company refusing to pay for a kid’s treatment?”

Jake snapped his phone closed. “This is the real world, Golden Boy. Shit happens that you rich kids never know about.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “What you want to bet that, if I check, I’ll find out his wife and daughter are in Mexico on some shopping trip? If he even has a wife and kid.”

“Fine. You check. But if I’m right, you make a huge donation to his daughter’s cancer fund.”

“How huge?” Mark asked.

“How much can you afford?”

For a second it appeared as if Mark was going to answer. Then he shook his head. “Fine. If I’m wrong, I’ll make a donation. But if I’m right…?”

“You name it.” Jake wasn’t worried. The pain in that man’s eyes had been real. Jake knew—he’d lived through it himself. True, Jake had found the allegedly stolen jewels hidden in the trunk of the Mustang. True, Mr. Brown had been thinking of pulling off insurance fraud, but—

“You bring me breakfast for a year. And no Pop-Tarts without the frosting, either. Deal?”

“Deal.” Jake got into his car.

“Billy, wake up.”

Billy rolled over to see Andy crouched down beside the sofa. The first thought floating through his mind was that he needed to talk to Ellie. He still needed to find out about the phone call. Last night he’d tried to talk to her, but she’d locked the bedroom door and refused to come out. And while Andy admitted Ellie had used his phone, the kid had cleaned out his messages and erased the memory. How unlucky could he get?

Billy glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost three in the afternoon. How could he have slept this late? He needed to go back to that house and find Tanks.

“We got trouble,” Andy whispered.

Billy saw the panic in the boy’s eyes and shot upright. “What—?”

Andy hushed him. “It’s the police,” he whispered. “They’re parked outside.”

Macy stepped off the porch when no one answered the door. Her personal guard had parked behind her, and she turned and offered a wave. Right then, a little boy on a bike came pedaling up the drive. His brown skin gleamed in the afternoon sun.

“Did my mama order pizza?” he asked, tossing down his bike.

Macy smiled. “Is she not at home?”

“She went”—the little boy grew quiet—“somewhere.”

“Sorry I missed her.” Macy spotted the look of longing in the boy’s eyes. “You know, I can leave this and get the money later.”

“You sure?” He held his hands out for the pizza.

Macy laughed. “Yeah.”

She’d started to walk away when he called out, “Wait! She’s at my uncle’s, down the block. The house with red shutters. She could pay if you need her to.”

“Thanks.” Macy walked to her car, debating if stopping there would really garner any information. What could Chase Roberts’s wife really tell her? But feeling a little Nancy Drewish—hey, she’d already gotten some information that might help—she decided it wouldn’t hurt to try.

Pulling over at the red-shuttered house, she grabbed another pizza box and strolled up to the door. Hearing voices inside, she knocked. The sudden silence seemed too fast. Almost eerie. But glancing back at the FBI agent in the car, she reassured herself that he had her back. She knocked again.

“Who is it?” a voice asked from behind the door.

“Pizza,” Macy answered. Now, to figure out how—

The door opened, and an older man stared at her. “Come in,” he said.

“That’s—”

A hand came out and yanked her inside. The door slammed. Macy’s pizza fell to the floor.

One look at the man who grasped her elbow, and Macy knew trouble had her number. She’d seen his face on a mug shot.

“We didn’t order a damn pizza,” Chase Roberts said. “So why don’t you cut the shit.” He slammed her against a wall.

“I’ll not be part of this.” The older man who’d opened the door left the room.

“I…must have the wrong address?” Macy swallowed hard when the man’s other hand came up around her neck.

Her eyes shot to the window, then to the man’s crotch. She threw her knee but missed, and Roberts’s hand tightened around her neck.

“Who the hell are you?”

The escaped convict’s face was so close, Macy smelled the onions he’d had with his lunch. She shifted her left hand out toward the table on the wall beside her. She found a smooth, hard surface. A statue.

Buddha to the rescue.

“Fuck!” Billy rolled off the sofa onto the floor. “Are you sure it’s the police?”

Andy went to peer out the window. “It’s a patrol car. Just one guy. He’s just sitting there. Maybe he’s not here for you.”

Billy took a deep breath. “Go see what he wants. Don’t…do anything stupid. But if they know…” He swallowed. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. “If they know I’m here, I’ll turn myself in. I don’t want you or Ellie hurt.” But even as he said it, he looked at the trailer’s back door.

Jake had barely driven off before the desire to check on Macy hit again. He pulled over and went through his phone until he found the number her guard had given him that morning.

“Hey,” he said when Agent Adkins answered. “This is Baldwin. Everything okay?”

“Fine,” was the curt answer.

Jake settled back in his seat. “She still at the doctor?”

“She didn’t go to the doctor.”

Jake leaned forward. “Why not?”

“She was called into work.”

“Work? She doesn’t have a car,” Jake said.

“She rented one.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“My orders were to follow her. To look out for any gold Cavaliers. I’m following her and looking out for gold Cavaliers.”

“Are you at the pizza place now?”

“No. We’re at…1060 Dayton Avenue. She’s delivering a pizza.”

Dayton?
Dayton?
Warning bells started ringing in Jake’s head. He grabbed the escapees’ files and scanned the pages.

1042 Dayton Avenue.

It wasn’t the same address, but it was too damn close for coincidence. “Do you see her right now?”

“No. She went inside,” Adkins admitted.

“Damn it. She isn’t supposed to go inside….”

“Shit!” Adkins said. “Was that a Buddha?”

“What?” Jake yelled, but the line clicked dead.

Jake drove and dialed at the same time. Adkins’s phone rang. No answer. Jake turned on his siren and shot out into traffic, putting his emergency light on his dash at the same time. Then he called and requested backup at the Dayton address.

What had Macy done? Friggin’ A, when he got his hands on her…
If
he got his hands on her. Damn it! He gripped the steering wheel, swerved to miss a car, and for the first time in a very long while, he prayed.

Still fighting a wave of panic, he slammed on his brakes when he passed Dayton Avenue. Doing an illegal U-turn, he drove like a bat out of hell. Finally, he spotted the house. Cars crowded the street: sedans and patrol cars, but no ambulance.

His engine hadn’t given its last sputter as he tore out of his Monte Carlo. He hit the porch steps, and glass crunched beneath his feet. The broken window caught his eye. Then he saw the stone statue of a decapitated Buddha laying belly up on the concrete porch.

As he started inside, a uniformed cop moved to stop him. “HPD.” Jake flashed his badge and squeezed through the crowd. His gaze zipped back and forth as he moved. Where the hell was Macy?

There! He spotted her curled up on the sofa. Relief washed over him. Now to decide which to do, kiss or throttle her.

She raised her gaze and saw him. Guilt flashed in her eyes.

Adkins appeared. “I figured you’d show up,” he said. “What happened?” Jake spat.

“We got one.” Adkins pointed to the handcuffed man in the corner.

Jake recognized Chase Roberts. The convict looked mad enough to kill—and he could have killed Macy. He was definitely going to throttle her himself.

“What the hell were you thinking, letting her come here?” he growled at her supposed bodyguard.

“I did my job. I was supposed to
follow
her,” Adkins snapped.

“And you didn’t realize this address is right down the street from one escaped convict’s wife? What Cracker Jack box did you get your badge from?”

Agent Adkins took a menacing step forward.

Agent James appeared. “Go get some fresh air,” he told Adkins. Then he turned to Jake. “You leave my men to me.”

Jake gritted his teeth. “You know he screwed up.”

“I’d say we’ve all screwed up.” He shook his head. “He just came on the case this morning. He hasn’t had time to read the files.” James let out a deep breath. “We thought we had him.”

“Had who?”

“Tanks. But it wasn’t him.”

“What do you mean?” Jake asked.

“We got a call that three men were staying at a hotel twenty miles outside the border. They all met the description of our guys. I sent most of my men to bring them in.” He passed a hand over his face. “We all let our guard down.”

James looked back at the man in handcuffs. “Plus, we have Chase Roberts, which might lead us—”

“Macy Tucker might have been killed,” Jake growled.

James’s left eyebrow arched. “Well, I have no better luck keeping tabs on my men than you do your
girlfriend
.” The Fed’s tone was half teasing. Then he sighed. “I won’t argue that it was an ideal situation. But it looks like your girl knows how to defend herself. Roberts is only just now able to stand straight again. Buddha didn’t fare so well, either.”

Jake shot his little ballbuster another look. She stood from the sofa and moved across the room toward them. Jake noticed new bruises on her arms. He reached for her.

“I’m fine,” she said, and looked at Agent James. “This is all on me. He had nothing to do with it.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Agent James said. “But I am curious to how you knew to come here.”

Macy looked back at Jake. A flicker of guilt darkened her eyes. “I thumbed through a file I found in Baldwin’s car. I went to Roberts’s wife’s house, and her son told me his mom was here. But I didn’t know Chase Roberts was.”

Agent James shot Jake a hard look.

“It’s not his fault,” Macy repeated as Agent James walked away.

Jake turned to her. “We had a
deal
.”

“I didn’t think I was doing anything stupid,” she said. “I made sure he followed me.” She pointed to Adkins. “All I wanted was to ask the wife a few questions. I thought maybe—”

Jake leaned down until his nose bumped hers. “We…had…a…deal.”

“But—”

“Go sit your ass down and don’t move until I say so.” He pointed at the sofa.

“Fine,” she said. “But when you stop being so pissy, I need to talk to you about what I found out about Ellie.” She plopped down where he’d told her.

Jake counted to ten and then did exactly what Macy expected. He asked her exactly what information she’d uncovered.

The cops were outside. Billy couldn’t believe it. He moved into the bedroom. Ellie rose from the bed where she’d been reading a gardening magazine. “I’m not sure I’m talking to you yet.”

He saw the window was open and pressed his finger to his lips to shush her. His heart pounded in his ears, and he remembered he’d left his gun under the sofa. Not that he’d use it, but if he had to run he’d want the darn thing.

“What?” Ellie whispered. Right then, the trailer was jarred by Andy shutting the front door behind him.

Billy stepped to the window, and with one finger he separated the blinds to see out. Ellie moved beside him, and he heard her breath hitch as she spotted the cop car.

As Andy stepped onto the driveway, the patrol officer got out of his car. He brought his radio receiver with him. “Blue van, license number…” When the cop finished calling it in, Andy approached.

“Hi,” he said. He didn’t sound too shaky, Billy hoped.

The officer glanced around. “I’m looking for Mr. Nelson.”

Andy grinned. “He lives down the road. Green trailer.”

“This isn’t 64 Callway?”

“It’s 62. What’s wrong? Harold not pay his child support again?”

The officer nodded and pointed to Andy’s Falcon, which was parked halfway up the yard. “Did you know the sticker has expired?”

Andy tucked both his hands in his jeans pockets. “Yeah, I’m planning on going today and renewing.”

“You do that.” The officer got back his car and drove off down the street.

The trailer shook as Andy reentered it. “He’s gone,” the kid called out, laughing.

“I heard,” Billy said.

Ellie had tears in her eyes.

Billy went over, wrapped his arm around her, and pulled her against him. And right then, he knew he had to get away from her. He couldn’t let her get caught up in this any more than he already had. But first he had to know.

Almost as if she’d read his mind, she looked up. “I never called David, I swear. The only people I called last night were my brother and Mrs. Kelly at the nursing home. And no, I didn’t use my phone. I used Andy’s.”

He remembered he’d never seen who was talking on the phone on that front porch. Then the severity of the situation hit. “Your brother knows you’re with me, doesn’t he? He told you to get away from me, didn’t he?”

“Yeah.” Her brow wrinkled. “How do you know what he said?”

Billy raked a hand through his hair. “Did you tell him where you were?”

“No. Why?”

“He’s with Tanks,” Billy muttered. “Damn it, Ellie! Your brother is with Tanks. And Tanks wants to hurt you, just like he wants to hurt Mace.” He took her by the shoulders and gripped her hard. “Would your brother be with him if knew Tanks wants to hurt you?”

“He wouldn’t.” Her eyes grew moist. “How do you know he’s with David? He was staying at a friend’s house.”

Billy didn’t answer. He was too busy playing connect the dots. When he went to get Tanks, if her brother was there and pulled a weapon, Billy might have to shoot him too. That, or take a bullet. Why did things have to be so fucked-up?

Then Billy remembered that the cops had called in their license number. “Who does that van belong to?” he asked.

“My brother,” Ellie said.

Billy took two steps and leaned his forehead to the wall, all the while fighting the panic slowly rising in his chest. Could things get any worse? If there were any warrants out for Ellie’s brother or if the police suspected him in connection with the breakout, the cops would come back quick.

He looked up. “I’ve got to get out of here.” He raked a hand over his face. “You can’t stay, either. Do you have someplace you can go?” He stepped toward the door.

She caught his arm. “I’m not going anywhere without you. You make me madder than blue fire, Billy Moore, but I still love you.”

“No, Ellie. You can’t come with me.” It was time to call it quits.

It was almost seven that evening when Macy and Jake left the precinct to get something to eat. He was still angry at her, she could tell. Though he shouldn’t have been. Especially when the information about Ellie’s brother—or foster brother, as Jake and the FBI discovered—had turned out to be important. It seemed he had ties to the same gang that Tanks belonged to. After some checking, they’d also learned the phone calls from Tanks to Ellie’s house had been made while Ellie was at work. Everyone was back to believing Ellie wasn’t involved with the escape, other than probably helping Billy after the fact.

In spite of being sore and chagrined, Macy couldn’t help but feel a little heroic for providing the authorities with their new lead, and for being somewhat responsible for catching one of the escapees. Her plans to someday work for the DA’s office wouldn’t be hurt by this little escapade.

Okay, maybe running across Chase Roberts had been more about luck—both bad and good—than skill, but a girl was allowed to enjoy her accomplishments, wasn’t she? And hey, she’d taken on an escaped convict and won. Nan was right: busting balls did give a girl a thrill.

The waitress showed them to their table. Macy picked up her menu. Though Jake hadn’t totally gotten over being mad, she could tell he was working on it. Plus, a miffed Jake gave her some insight into him.

She peeked at him over the top of her menu. He wasn’t looking at his; he was looking at her. Frankly, she liked seeing how he handled his temper. No way was she getting involved with a guy who—Damn, was she throwing in the towel?

She hid behind her menu. Did she really want to go here? Risk having her heart chewed up? Did she even have a choice?

Hell, yeah, she had a choice, a voice inside her screamed. It wasn’t as if she was in love or anything. Love didn’t happen in five days. Lust? Yeah. Like? Heck, yeah. Respect, too. But love? That took time to grow.

They hadn’t even
made
love yet.

Getting out now would save her, before the lust, like, or respect deepened. But that’s where she came to a mental roadblock. She didn’t want to be saved. Nope. She wanted to go to the circus. Well, that was something of a metaphor. She wanted to see and experience the sights and sounds of a relationship, to feast on the excitement, even if it meant running the risk of stepping in a big pile of elephant poo.

She glanced over the menu again at him. He was still looking at her.

“Is this place okay?” he asked. “We could find someplace that serves vegetarian food.”

“This is fine.” She dropped her menu. “If our waitress shows up, order me a Boca Burger.” She stood and added, “Without onions.” The memory of Chase Roberts’s repellant breath lingered.

“What are you doing?” He watched her shoulder her purse.

“Going to the ladies’ room.”

“Can I trust you to go there and back without getting into trouble?” Frowning, he touched her arm in the same spot where Chase Roberts had bruised it.

“You want to loan me your gun, just in case?” She forced a smile when he rolled his eyes. “Or maybe you’d prefer to come with me.”

He grinned. “I’m easy. I wouldn’t mind if you came first.”

Comprehension struck, and she felt her cheeks redden. “Funny,” she said, and walked away.

A short time later, back from the ladies’ room and sitting across from him, Macy was still trying to get the image of her and Jake, all sweaty and satisfied, out of her head. It wasn’t working.

Their waitress set two plates on the table. “Two Boca Burgers with fries.” The sultry redhead shot Jake a flirtatious smile. “Need another soda?”

He nodded. “Thanks.”

Macy glanced at her empty tea glass. She obviously didn’t rate. A touch of jealousy stirred in her gut.

Jake motioned to her glass. “And some more tea.”

The waitress picked up both glasses and sauntered off.

“Thank you,” Macy said. Then she glanced at Jake’s plate. “You ordered a Boca Burger?”

He shrugged. “Yeah.”

“You like Boca Burgers?”

He eyed the plate warily. “Sure.”

She instantly knew he’d ordered it because of her. Warmth swirled in her chest.

She watched him douse the bun with ketchup, retop the burger, and take his first bite. He chewed. His eyes grew round. She bit her lip to keep from laughing.

“How is it?”

“Fine.” He continued chewing. The waitress appeared and dropped their drinks on the table. Jake grabbed his and drank half. Then he glanced at her. “What?”

“Just admit you don’t like it.”

“I didn’t say…” He looked at the burger, which he held in one hand. “It just…needs something.”

“Like what?”

He cut his gaze at her. “A pound of ground chuck.”

She laughed.

Jake let out a deep breath. “You are so damn beautiful, I can’t even stay mad at you.”

She popped a fry into her mouth. He made her feel beautiful. He made her feel a lot of things. “Worth eating a Boca Burger for?”

“I ordered it, didn’t I?”

She squirted some ketchup onto her plate. “You could have ordered a real hamburger.”

He picked up a fry and dipped it in her ketchup. “You won’t think less of me if I eat meat?”

“No. I choose to do this, but I don’t judge others.” Their gazes met. She felt it again—the magical pull, the sizzle. And more. “Besides, I already like you too much.”

His smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “You do?”

She leaned over and kissed him. It was just a simple kiss, but when she pulled back, she saw in his eyes that he thought it meant more. More, as in an invitation to it
all.
Which she wasn’t willing to give him yet. First, Aunt Flo’s curse had to fully depart. Then there was the issue of not being invited to his grandfather’s party. He had three days.