Foreclosure: A Novel (23 page)

“Not the sex scenes, though I agree. It was when Sergeant Foley was trying to get Mayo, Richard Gere, to DOR after Foley discovered his illegal shoe-shining enterprise. He was working Gere’s ass off all weekend, insisting he drop, pushing him to the brink. And you remember Gere’s—or I mean Mayo’s, response?”

She frowned. “‘I ain’t got nowhere else to go.’”

“Well, yes, but you said it too flat. He cried it, and with the most passion I’ve ever seen in a movie. That’s the greatest scene in the greatest movie, in my honest opinion.”

She was still frowning. “So you really believe that? You don’t have anywhere else to go?”

He shrugged.

“I’m serious, David. You don’t think you have a choice?”

He glanced out the window. The sun had disappeared and left behind a black sky illuminated by approaching flashes of lightning. “I don’t know about a choice. But sometimes I feel … I feel like I’m just their collateral. And they’re foreclosing on me.”

Beth opened her mouth, as though she was about to say something, until the waiter returned to take their orders. She ordered her lobster and answered the waiter’s questions about side dishes and whether she wanted the lobster cleaned for her or preferred to do it herself. David found himself hoping that she’d forget the last thing he said, and he wished he’d forget it, too. But he couldn’t. Nor could he stop thinking about what Mirabel had said to him today—about how he had changed, and he feared most of all that she was right. He wished he could find the nerve to admit that he didn’t want to care anymore, not about making partner, not about Frank O’Reilly. He wished he could pretend he could walk away from it all. But he knew he couldn’t, and he doubted he would ever be able to do that.

“And for you, sir?” the waiter asked David.

Though he hadn’t caught half of what Beth had just said, he responded, “Just give me exactly what she ordered.”

The waiter smiled, easy enough, and bowed out of their conversation.

Beth grabbed his hand without missing a beat. “So who’s foreclosing on you, David?”

He stared at her for a moment, squeezed her hand, and said, “I wish you would.”

She rubbed her fingers along his hands and smiled in a way he hadn’t seen from her in years. He smiled back and gripped her hand. A flash of lightning flickered behind him, followed by another boom of thunder.

“Well, it is my birthday,” he said.

She laughed and lowered her head but never broke eye contact, and that commitment made him feel better than he could remember feelings for years.

Then everything in the room went black for a second before another flash of light ignited the dining room. That vibrant flickering was followed by a deafening boom, deeper and more explosive than any thunder David had ever heard.

Beth pulled her hand away and gasped in unison with a chorus of shocked patrons in the restaurant.

“What the hell was that?” David said.

The flash of light weakened but did not disappear. It initially seemed fainter but then it expanded, casting a high glow against the sky. David stood and looked out the window, but saw nothing but the shimmering light somewhere down the beach.

“Look!” someone in the dining room screamed, causing another collective cry among the diners. The dining room erupted with confusion.

David pressed his face against the corner of the window, but he couldn’t see the source of the light. He shuffled through a throng of people fighting their way outside to get a better look at whatever the explosion had been. He heard Beth tell him to wait. But he couldn’t wait. Whatever was going on outside was forcing him to follow, to see what the hell it was, and to bow.

He pushed his way through the exit. Outside, the falling rain hit him like darts. The flame was glowing somewhere in the sky like a hidden torch. He sprinted down the boulevard, struggling to keep his footing on the wet pavement while locating the source of the immense light. He heard sirens screaming in the distance. The rain was steady and lightning flashed every ten seconds, just enough to diminish the brightness of the blazing flames coming into his line of vision.

The closer he came to the blaze, the less he could believe what he was seeing. As he made his way down the highway, the wind buffeting him back and forth, he tried to persuade himself that this was real.
This is real
. He stopped to catch his breath and gain his balance.

This is fucking real
.

Ahead, a ball of fire smoldered inside Gaspar Towers, burning like an altar to an angry god. David took a knee, entranced by the magnificent fire whirling into the stormy sky. And then he slowly realized that he was watching everything he had worked for over the past eight years go up in flames.

David stood less than a hundred yards from Gaspar Towers. The fire now appeared limited to the south tower. The sales office was burning like an overworked furnace; the main office and retail space on the second floor hadn’t fared much better.

He raised his gaze and examined the upper floors of the tower. The outer walls for the most part appeared unscathed, but the windows revealed an ominous glow inside the building, as if the fire was still creeping up the interior of the building. He’d tried several times calling Frank’s and Katherine’s cell phones, but both went directly to voice mail.

Firefighters and policemen were scattered around the perimeter of the building like litter blowing in the wind. David crossed under the yellow tape and vied for a policeman’s attention.

“Who’s in charge here?” David yelled into the frenzied crowd.

“You’re not allowed in here,” someone yelled back.

“I know the owner,” David said.

“There’s a bunch of owners, asshole.”

“I know
the
owner. The developer.”

The fireman stared carefully at David, as though he were taking a mental picture. As the fireman turned to rejoin the fray, David felt his BlackBerry vibrating in his pocket. He pulled it out. It was Beth.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“I’m at the fire.”

“You’ve been gone an hour.”

“I’m trying to find out what the hell’s going on.”

“Do you want me to come get you?”

As he thought how to answer that question, he noticed that the fireman he’d just spoken with was pointing David out to another guy who looked like he could be in charge. David waved in their direction.

“No, Beth. I’m sorry. Just go home. I’ll call you when I can.”

“Are you sure?”

David heard her question just as he ended the call. He didn’t have time to call her back because the firemen were making their way toward him. He ran to the tape to meet them.

A burly man with a red mustache introduced himself as Captain Al Ashcroft. “Who do you know here?” he yelled over a passing truck.

“I’m a lawyer for the developer.”

“Do you know if anyone’s inside?”

“All the units in this tower are vacant except for the penthouse. That’s where the owner lives, Frank O’Reilly.”

“Where is he?”

“I have no idea. I haven’t talked to him in a few days.” David looked at the sweltering flames on the ground floor. “His daughter works here too, in the sales office on the ground floor.” They watched a swell of flames lash out from an upper floor. “I hope she got out.”

Ashcroft kept his eyes locked on the fire. “We do too.”

At dawn, the morning sun illuminated pillars of smoke that were still rising from the smoldering tower. The tower’s exterior frame remained intact, but the fire appeared to have gutted it and charred the east and north walls all the way to the top. News crews were set up every thirty feet, recording reports about the fire. David circled the perimeter throughout the night, hoping to find Frank or Katherine or some sign of them. He’d heard from neither of them all night. Now, his phone was dead and he was just waiting.

On the east side of the tower, where the sales office once stood, David saw a group of men circled around Ashcroft. Ashcroft gestured in David’s direction, apparently pointing David out to the other investigators. A moment later, Ashcroft led one of the men over to David.

“This is Fire Inspector Glades,” Ashcroft told David.

David nodded at Glades, a stubby man in his late fifties with a tattoo on his forearm that looked like a bad war wound.

Glades nodded back, and asked, “You still haven’t heard from your client?”

David shook his head. “I left him a message a few hours ago.”

“Would you mind coming by later to answer some questions?”

“Name the time. Did they find anybody in there?”

Glades glanced back at the smoldering ash. “Why don’t you just come by in a little while?” He handed him a card and turned back to the worksite.

David realized he wasn’t going to learn anything else waiting around here, so he started walking toward a gas station a few blocks up the highway, where he’d have a better chance of catching a taxi since his phone had died. Ahead he saw a caravan of cars passing by, including one marked Gaspar County Medical Examiner. He hoped that one was here just as a precaution.

He stopped after walking a few blocks and turned around to get a better view of the thick smoke rising above the Gulf. A pair of ibises flew around the cloud of smoke and circled the towers. As he turned the corner, a black car turned with him, catching his attention. It was the same black Acura he’d seen at the Towers when Katherine received her visits from Dick Butkus. The car slowed at a stop sign. Though there was no traffic, it just sat there, waiting.

David crossed the street and trailed the car. Once he was about twenty feet away, it accelerated slowly, as if teasing him. David increased his pace, and the car in turn sped up. Then he started sprinting, and the car accelerated and flung a cloud of gravel and sand in its wake. David gave up on catching up with the car, and tried catching his breath, his hands on his knees. He never saw it coming, but he heard a loud vehicle approach from the opposite direction. He quickly looked up as Robbie’s truck grinded to a halt a few feet away.

“Get in,” Robbie yelled through his window.

Robbie gave David no time to close the door before he was speeding away.

“What the hell is going on, Robbie?”

“I was hoping you could tell me.”

“Look back there. That’s all I know.”

“Then you’re doing better than me.”

“Where’s Frank?”

“He’s safe.” Robbie checked the traffic before turning onto the highway.

“Where?” David’s voice cracked.

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

Robbie pulled his truck into the garage at the safe house. He left the engine running and looked impatiently at David. “Go. He’s expecting you.” David hopped out of the truck and waited for Robbie, but Robbie didn’t move. “He wants to see you alone.”

In the daylight, the safe house looked naked and vulnerable. David slipped through the kitchen and called for Frank. He found him sitting at the dining room table.

“Frank, what—”

“Sit down.” Frank looked exhausted, as though he’d been thinking about too many things for too long without sleep. “I’m running out of options, it seems.” Frank stared at something on the table that David couldn’t see.

“Let’s step back a minute,” David said. “What do you know about this fire?”

“What do you think I know about the fire?”

“I think it looks bad, Frank. The Towers were in foreclosure. You’ve been giving me the runaround anytime I need something about the case. Seems pretty clear to me why you haven’t been worried about the bank foreclosing.”

“Because I knew I was going to blow it up, blow it up in the middle of a thunder storm? Is that what you think?”

“Okay, so it was an accident. Then you’ve got nothing to hide.”

“I’m not saying that, either.”

David took a deep breath. “Then I’m going to need you to explain this a little better, Frank.”

Frank leaned forward in his chair and locked his fingers in a grip. “You ready to prove it to me? To show me you’re my guy?”

“You should know that by now, Frank.”

“This is privileged?”

David nodded. “Of course.”

Frank wet his lips before continuing. “We’ve been getting a lot of pressure from an investor in the LLC that owns the Towers. Someone we probably should have never got mixed up with.”

“Is that where the escrow monies went?” David asked.

Frank looked like he remembered something. “We didn’t have a choice. These are not the kind of guys you fuck around with.”

“They by any chance drive a black Acura?”

“Why do you ask that? I don’t know that car.”

“Then what the hell does this investor have to do with the fire?”

Frank started scratching his goatee. “I don’t know for sure. But I think they’re after the insurance proceeds.”

David tried to make sense of what he’d just heard. He’d never seen Frank contrite and beaten. “Have you heard from Katherine?”

Frank lowered his head. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“Can you tell me the name of this investor?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Frank rubbed his eyes as though he were trying to rub away pain but couldn’t find its source.

“Where were you last night?” David asked. Frank looked offended. “They’re gonna ask you sooner or later. Let’s get your story straight.”

“I was fishing grouper. They can confirm that at the marina.”

“When did you get back?”

“A few hours ago. As soon as I did, I had a dozen messages, including yours. That’s when I found out.”

David took a deep breath, still studying Frank’s demeanor. “We need a game plan, Frank.”

“Like I said, I’m running out of options.”

“You could always tell the truth.”

Frank shook his head. “I’m not gonna die for this.”

“Then you want to go to prison for this, whatever
this
is?”

Frank stood and scanned through his phone like he was looking for a number. “I’m doing this my way. If you can’t handle the job, I’ll find someone who can.”

David stood and took the phone away from Frank. “I’m your guy, Frank.”

Frank nodded. “Then let’s clear my name.”