Headhunters

HEADHUNTERS

by

Charlie Cole

Headhunters

Copyright
© 2011 Charlie Cole

All
Rights Reserved.

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This book
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of
the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual
events, business establishments, locales or persons, living or dead, is
entirely coincidental.

Cover Design
by Sarah Spann

Chapter One

I remember the night that my wife
died. I was there, by her side in her last moments, but not the way I should
have been. Had I been there for her, supported her, cared for her in the way
that a husband ought to care for his wife, things never would have ended the
way that they did. When that night began and the darkness fell, I had no idea
how the events of that evening would ripple through my life and tear my family
apart. All I knew was it was a work night…

I was in the office later than I’d intended. I lied when I
said I’d be home early and my wife, Claire, knew it. It wasn’t done with
malice. I didn’t lie to hurt her. It made things easier. Or at least that’s how
I justified things to myself. If I said that I’d be home by six and the timing
slipped by an hour, well I had just gotten held up. There was just one more
thing to do. Projects were piling on and what other choice did I have?

Claire didn’t argue with me. She didn’t even scoff when I
said I’d try to get home early. She just said that it was fine and to drive
safely. I relaxed at the office and continued to work. It wasn’t lost on me
that my desk light was the only one on in the place. I knew that others had
gone home to their families, their spouses, but my work was important. Not just
to me; it was truly important.

I finished my project management documentation, saved my
work, synced my phone and my laptop in case I needed to work during the night
and eventually headed for the door. I didn’t mind the biometric scanner that
took an image of my fingerprints to allow me access to the inner offices. It
was the security badge that I needed to exit the building. That was what always
hung me up. It was a nuisance and I’d forgotten it on my desk and had to go
back to get it.

I wondered what would have happened if I hadn’t stopped for
the badge. What if I’d driven straight home? I guess I’ll always wonder that.

I waved to Jeff, the security guard at the front desk, on my
way out. Jeff’s reply was curt and stiff as always.

“Sir,” he acknowledged me.

Jeff was a retired United States Marine staff sergeant. He’d
served in the Gulf, gotten wounded when a roadside bomb destroyed his Hummer
outside of Baghdad, then continued to serve on U.S. embassy duty in Germany.
Jeff could kill a man from 1500 yards out with a rifle shot in an urban theater
of operations and had done so on numerous operations. He could also hold a
hundred pounds over his head for hours and run all day long. I knew that
because I had recruited Jeff to our security detail.

I found my car in the underground parking structure and
waved at the guard with the bomb-sniffing dog. My job wasn’t glamorous by any
stretch. Last time I’d come down here, the German Shepherd had been anxious as
hell. Turned out he need to be let outside. It was a better option than finding
out he’d discovered a brick of C-4 strapped to the undercarriage of my car, but
it still made me edgy.

The night guard was on duty at the gate and I had to show my
badge before she would lift the arm to allow me out.

“Have a good evening, Mr. Parks,” she said with a smile.

“You too, Vanessa,” I replied.

Vanessa had been in Naval Intelligence for 25 years before
resigning her commission and turning to the private sector. I’d interviewed her
myself.

It was raining and the roads were slick. It was coming down
in heavy drops that splatted on the windshield of my BMW. I turned on the
wipers and realized that they might not be able to keep up with the downpour. I
would bide my time and get home as soon as I could.

I took the roads slowly, giving myself plenty of time. I
thought about it then, and opted to call home. I’d have to acknowledge that I
was later than I’d said I’d be, but I was on my way and that should be
sufficient. I pulled my mobile phone from my pocket and speed dialed the
number. It rang. And rang. And rang. No answer. Eventually the voicemail kicked
on, but I hung up without leaving a message.

That was odd. Unlike Claire not to answer the phone, but who
was I to say? Maybe she was busy with the kids… I drove a little faster then. I
took the last corner and turned into our subdivision. I followed the curving
road that lead back to our place on the cul-de-sac on the property that
overlooked the rest of the development.

I could see Claire’s car in the driveway as I approached. At
first I thought it was a trick of the light, the rain playing on the
windshield, but… no, her car was moving. And I thought I could see her behind
the wheel. Her silver Audi pulled out of the drive and she was driving away
from our home. Driving away from me.

She’d threatened to leave me before. It had begun with
little things. I don’t know how it happened, but one day I found us arguing
over toast. I’m a relatively intelligent man, so I asked her what was really
bothering her and it came out that she thought I was working too many hours.
What about the family? she'd asked. I was working the hours to help the family,
I insisted. What a fool I was.

As time went by, her recriminations became more calm, more
cold. Eventually, the emotion was gone. She never spoke of it anymore. I
thought we’d settled into a routine. My work was what it was. There wasn’t
anything I could do about the hours. I thought she understood. I couldn’t have
been more wrong.

I accelerated after her and reached for my cell phone again.
The rain was picking up, falling harder now. I saw her take a left at the end
of our street and head for the exit of the subdivision. I hit the speed dial
for her cell as I rounded the corner behind her. She answered on the third
ring.

“What is it, Simon?” Claire asked. The way she said my name,
as if it were short for ‘Simple Simon’, too stupid to see this coming a million
miles away.

“Hon? What’s going on?”

“I’m leaving you,” she replied.

“Can we talk about this?”

“We did talk about this… ”

It’s difficult to have an argument when you know that you’re
wrong. And not just wrong in the moment. Six years in the making wrong. I’d put
her off and put her off and put her on hold and now… she pulled the plug. I
couldn’t blame her, but I wouldn’t go down without a fight either.

“Baby, I’m sorry, okay? I’ll make it up to you.”

“That’s what you said three months ago when you canceled our
vacation because you had to work.”

There was an edge in her voice. I knew she remembered
everything I ever said, everything I ever did and the way that I did it. She
was a woman and women do that. I was trying to stop the cycle, before the argument
escalated, but before I could, she finished it for me.

“We’re through, Simon. I’m done. You’ll just have to get
along without me.”

And then she was gone. The phone line went dead. Her Audi
accelerated away from me until all I saw were her taillights through the
driving rain. She’d ended it. Ended six years of marriage in the blink of an
eye. Well, maybe it was a blink of an eye to me… must have been six years of
hell for her. Could I blame her? With the life I’d given her? As the husband I
hadn’t been?

I couldn’t let it end like that. Not without talking. Not
tonight. Not like this. I kept my eyes on the road and dialed again. I watched
her taillights in the gloom, creeping away from me. It rang and rang until her
voicemail picked up and I listened to her greeting, her voice sweet and
smiling. A greeting not intended for me. She was done talking.

I dropped the phone and shifted gears. The BMW’s engine
growled in acceleration and began to eat up the distance between us. The wind
lashed at my car as the rain pelted the windshield. I’d driven under worse
conditions; I could handle this. It was worth it.

In the time it took me to make up the distance between us, I
thought back to what had brought us together in the first place. I’d met Claire
at a party for the President and the supporters had come together to share
their well wishes. I saw her standing against the wall away from the crowd and
I knew in an instant that she would be the woman that I’d spend my life with.
We were introduced and shared a conversation over champagne, but somewhere in
there was a connection. She was a paralegal for a small law firm outside of
D.C. She loved her job and she seemed well suited for it. I worked for a
defense contractor and we shared a lot of views on politics and life. It was
love at first sight. A year later we got married.

We were happy. Our careers were going well. Money was good.
We bought a new house. Then new cars. Then I came home from work one day and
she told me we were expecting a baby. Our son, David, was born and Claire had
to quit her job.

I never pushed Claire to quit. Never pushed her not to quit,
either. We had enough money to live on one income, so Claire decided that she
would leave her job and stay home to raise the baby. Things were going fine. We
had a perfect family, it seemed. I was working with a government contractor as
a headhunter. Then we discovered that baby Melissa was on her way. Two babies…
two years apart. A boy and a girl. In my mind, it sealed the picture. We were
becoming the perfect family.

What I didn’t realize, what I was blinded to… was that my
life was far from perfect. Instead of our family being pulled together, we were
slowly drifting apart. I just didn’t see it until that night.

Claire had been slipping into a deep depression. Her job was
gone and all the notoriety and praise and promise that went with it. She’d gone
from a paralegal with a career to a fulltime mom. She was overwhelmed with the
two kids. She asked me for help. I should have taken the time. I should have
done more. I should have listened. But instead, I hired a nanny.

Alaina joined our family to help around the house and take
care of the kids. She was the oldest in a large Latino family and so was
accustomed to taking care of the younger children. She was a great nanny. But
she wasn’t me. I was the one who should have been there. That was when Claire
began to beg me to come home sooner, ask me why my hours were so long. She
needed me… and I wasn’t there for her.

The taillights were closer now. My God she was driving fast.
We’d played at drives in the country in the past and she’d enjoyed it, but I
never knew she could be this reckless. I dialed the cell again, hoping that
she’d realize that she wasn’t going to be able to just avoid me. The phone rang
once… then again… then the third time, then I saw something fly out of the
silver Audi’s window. It bounced once, then cartwheeled through the air and
slammed into the windshield of my BMW with a resounding thwhack.

Oh shit.

In that last instant before it struck, I realized that the
object was Claire’s cell phone. She’d heard it ringing, knew it was me, and
threw it out the window. This wasn’t going as well as I’d hoped.

Claire knew what I did for a living. I was a headhunter, a
recruiter of rare talents for a company that did work for the U.S. government.
My job was to convince people to take on projects. I could be very persuasive.
Claire knew this about me. She knew it so well that she decided not to give me
the opportunity to talk her out of leaving. Thus the cell phone’s demise…

Just then, Claire swerved the Audi to the right and took a
side road that forked off the main thoroughfare. I missed the turn and could
only watch as she sped away. I checked my mirror and saw no one behind me. I
braked hard and cranked the wheel 180 degrees, sending the BMW into a
controlled spin. Off the brake and hit the gas, I accelerated back toward the
turn I’d missed.

I braked, cornered hard and punched the accelerator to
follow the road that Claire had taken. The speedometer needle passed through my
vision from left to right. Claire had taken a side road that led into a wooded
parkway near the house. Where was she going? I saw her taillights ahead
disappear around another turn. I had to catch her.

I downshifted around the corner, but cut the angle sharper
than Claire had and made up even more time. She was just up ahead. I powered
forward and tried to get along side. Suddenly, Claire swerved, cutting me off.

What the hell was she doing?

I tried the other side, and she did it again. I backed off,
giving her some room. She seemed hell-bent on keeping me away. I faked left and
as the Audi moved that direction, I pulled up on the right side. We were side
by side now in the driving rain, and the blowing wind, traveling at high speeds
along a two lane road leading through a heavily wooded area. Dear God… what had
brought us to this?

Claire looked at me then. Her face was without expression
and she raised her hand in a wave. I didn’t understand. What… what was she
doing? Where had I gone so wrong? And then she looked straight ahead, closed
her eyes and took her hands off the wheel. What…? I looked back at the road and
saw the guard rail ahead of us, looming directly in my lights. The headlight
flashed against the guardrail. The turn was sharp and to the right. Neither of
us was going to make it. Was this what Claire intended when she left the house?
Or only after I’d pursued her?

I jerked the wheel hard to the right and pulled the
emergency brake. The BMW spun, the tires howling in protest, my gut twisted
into a knot, knowing that Claire could never stop in time. The BMW slid
sideways into the guard rail and I saw Claire’s Audi hit it head on.

Oh dear God no…

The police forensics examiner later told me that he
estimated Claire’s speed of impact at somewhere above eighty miles per hour. I
heard the crash and saw her car slam into the rail. The front end crumpled and
buckled downward. The back-end of the car came up off the ground and the Audi
flipped over. It tumbled over the railing and fell, smashing down with a
sickening crunch onto its roof. I could hear the car sliding, then flipping
down the hillside.