Tarnished Image (18 page)

The hot water of the shower cascaded on the back of David’s neck, bringing only small relief to his tense muscles. His time in jail had made him feel dirty, as if simply being in the building had soiled him deep into his pores. He had shampooed his hair twice and scrubbed his body with soap like an obsessive-compulsive.

Calvin had delivered him to the Barringston Tower where he had quickly made his way up to his penthouse suite on the top floor. No sooner was he in his apartment than he stripped himself of the clothes he had been wearing for the last thirty-six hours, brushed his teeth, shaved, and began showering. He wanted to stay in the shower forever, listening to the mild roar of the water, feeling the cleansing steam, experiencing the penetrating warmth. The shower enclosure not only kept the water in, but at least in David’s weary mind, kept the world out.

Since David’s apartment was on the top floor of a commercial building, he had an inexhaustible source of hot water. He knew, however, that he could not stay in the shower forever, no matter how tempting the thought. He would have to face the world one day at a time, perhaps one hour at a time. His mind was clouded with questions that hung over him like a thunderstorm over the mountains. And like a thunderstorm, his thoughts would release lightning bolts of fear and uncertainty.

After a half-hour of wet seclusion, he turned off the water and stepped from the shower. He had made a decision. He would live each day as normally as possible, taking care of business, doing what must be done—and he would start immediately.

David entered his office and sat down behind his desk. He studied the files neatly arranged on its surface. It was a testimony of his assistant Ava, who, by the simple act of continuing the workday as if nothing had happened, was stating clearly her belief that all would return to normal.

On the desk were several folders, each marked with a clearly printed label: M
EMOS
, T
SUNAMI
, H
URRICANE
C
LAUDIA
, R
ESOURCES
, and half a dozen others. The desk also contained a neatly stacked pile of phone messages. David scanned those quickly. Most were routine; a few were from the news media. On the latter, a note, written in Avas precise style, read:
Referred to Public Relations.

David set aside the phone messages and picked up the folder marked H
URRICANE
C
LAUDIA
. It contained a bare-bones update of the storm:

David felt shell-shocked. He reached over to the phone and punched the intercom button. “Ava?”

“Yes,” she answered cheerfully. “It’s good to have you back. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, thanks. Could you see if we have any news footage of Hurricane Claudia? Perhaps something from the Caymans or Jamaica.”

“I’ll get you everything I can.”

“Great.”

“Would you like some coffee or something?”

“Coffee sounds good. Oh, and Ava, thanks.”

“I’m here if you need me.”

David released the button. Next he opened the file marked T
SUNAMI
. The top page of the file was a brief from Osborn written in the same terse style:

An ache grew inside of David, a deep, penetrating sorrow. So many lives lost, and more would die in the hours ahead. He knew the problems were far from over. In the hurricane and tsunami areas, new dangers would soon arise. There would be a lack of food and fresh water. Disease would be rampant, taxing even the most prepared nation. Looting and crime would skyrocket. Then, for the survivors, the slow, agonizing rebuilding would begin. Many, perhaps most, would rebuild without the presence of loved ones.

It was time for Barringston Relief to … Realization took David’s breath away with a sudden jolt. Quickly he grabbed
the folder marked M
EMOS
and opened it. There were several, but the one he was looking for was on top:

At first David felt a sense of indignation at Connick’s impulsiveness, but then he chastised himself for the thought. Of course, Connick would call a board meeting. David had been in jail, no one knew if bail would be set, and Connick was the CFO. If funds were frozen, he’d be the first one affected. Had David not been in jail, he would have called the meeting himself and consulted with Connick immediately. Connick was doing the correct thing.

David read the memo again. What was this about the department heads receiving a video? The realization hit David
hard. Quickly he glanced at the top of his desk again and saw what he had missed before—a videotape. Seeing a black cassette on his desk was not at all unusual. Tapes from field workers to tapes of news reports were routinely sent to him. He snatched this one up. There was no label.

Stepping from his desk, he crossed the office to the entertainment console that held his television and VCR and inserted the tape. It was as he had feared. Someone had sent the tape to all the department leaders in Barringston Relief. That meant that not only did the entire firm know of his arrest, they had also witnessed the alleged crime. How many of them would be able to disbelieve their own eyes?

There was a knock at the door. David stopped the tape and turned, expecting to see Ava. Instead it was Kristen and Timmy.

“David!” Timmy said, bounding across the room and hugging David with such force that it nearly knocked him over. “You’re back! You’re back!”

“Easy, buddy,” David said with a chuckle, returned the embrace. “Did you miss me?”

“Lots. I was afraid you weren’t coming home ever again.”

“What, and leave you alone? Never going to happen, buddy. You’re stuck with me.”

“I like being stuck with you.”

“That’s good, Timmy.” David freed himself from the embrace. “You weren’t in the apartment when I came home. Where were you?”

“I was doing my job, ’cuz I didn’t do it last night.” Timmy bounced on the balls of his feet with excitement. “I went to Kristen’s house last night, but I didn’t sleep real good.”

David looked at Kristen, who had remained at the door. She was leaning against the jamb, her arms folded in front of
her. To David she looked weary, stressed. Even the blue-and-white double-breasted cardigan jacket she wore seemed to hang loosely.

“Thank you for watching Timmy,” David said to her.

“Timmy is always a pleasure,” Kristen said slowly. After a pause she continued. “I thought you might call me when you got in.”

“I just arrived in the office a few minutes ago.”

“I see you got a tape too.” She nodded toward the VCR. Her words were terse, but spoken softly. David could tell she was hurt.

“I’ll tell you what, buddy,” David said to Timmy. “Are you done with your work?”

“Yeah.”

“OK, why don’t you run upstairs and watch some television.”

“OK,” Timmy said, then asked, “They’re not going to take you away again, are they?”

David shook his head. “I’ll be home later. I have a meeting at four, but I’ll be up after that and then we’ll have dinner together.”

“Can we go out?” Timmy asked enthusiastically.

“Sure. I’ll even let you pick the restaurant.”

“Cool,” Timmy exclaimed. David watched as the young man left the office.

In the corner of the room were a pair of matching sofas and two padded leather chairs. David motioned to the seating area. “You have something on your mind, Kristen. Come on in and tell me about it.”

Kristen stood motionless for a moment, then crossed the office and took a seat in one of the chairs—removing the opportunity for David to sit next to her. David sat in the opposite chair.

“Let me guess,” David said softly. “You saw the video and you’re upset.”

“I think I have a right to be upset,” Kristen replied coolly. “I’m as understanding as the next woman, but this is too much of a stretch.”

“That’s not me in the video,” David said matter-of-factly.

“It certainly looks like you.” Her words, laden with pain, had a bite to them.

“I’ll grant you that, but I can tell you that it was not me. I can’t tell you who that is, but it’s not me.”

Kristen crossed her arms again but said nothing.

“Have I ever lied to you, Kristen?”

“Not that I know of,” she snapped harshly.

David sighed loudly and took a deep breath. He wondered how he would respond if the roles were reversed. “I don’t blame you for being upset. The video is very convincing. It might even be convincing enough to land me in prison. But it is not real. I have never lied to you, and you know that. I’m not lying now. I can’t prove my innocence. You will either have to trust me or not.”

More silence.

“What do you want from me, Kristen?”

It was her turn to sigh. “I don’t know, David,” she said, shaking her head. “This is … beyond me. I want to believe you. I don’t enjoy being angry. You know how much I love you.”

“And I love you too. I would never, never do what that tape shows.” David leaned forward. “I need you to believe me, Kristen. I can stand to lose many things, but I don’t think I can stand to lose you or Barringston Relief. As it stands now, I may lose both.”

A tear ran from Kristen’s eye. David knew that she was not prone to such displays of emotion. He had seen her cry
only once before, and that had been at A.J. Barringston’s funeral. That lone tear was testimony to how much the video had hurt her.

“I plan to fight this, Kristen. I will not roll over and play dead. If I have to fight it alone, I will, but I’d rather face this with you by my side.”

“Do you really think it’s that easy?” Kristen said loudly. “Do you think that I can turn my emotions on and off like a faucet? I have seen the man I love, the man I’ve trusted with my love and my heart, kissing another woman. I have seen it with my own eyes.”

“No, you didn’t,” David countered strongly. “You saw a tape of someone who looks like me. I’ve been set up, and you’re falling for it.”

“I am not a stupid woman, David. I know what I saw.”

David tensed. “And I am not an immoral man. I am telling you, that was not me. I can’t explain how that tape came to be, but I can tell you before God and everyone that was not me.”

“I wish I could believe you,” Kristen said.

“You can. It’s your decision. I can’t make you believe me, but I know you’re capable of it. Like you said, you’re not a stupid woman. Think, Kristen. Think. Have I ever done anything to make you believe that I could behave in such a fashion? Has there ever been anything in my words or actions to make you think that I am capable of such impropriety?”

She shook her head slowly. “Not known to me.”

“Not known to you?” David was exasperated. He had spent his years building a life based on Christian values and mores. But all that was now crumbling like an ancient and decayed facade. It was inconceivable that a lifetime of righteous living
could be destroyed in such short order. David was well aware of those spiritual and political leaders who had destroyed their images by misbehavior. Their downfalls were understandable and carried a sense of justice. Had David been guilty of the crimes, he would accept the fallout, but he was innocent. Apparently, he was one of the few who believed that.

“Kristen,” David said softly, “I can stand the accusations of others. I can tolerate the media and the police. But I can’t stand losing you. What good is it for me to convince the world that I’m innocent if I can’t convince you? But I’m not going to give up. Stand with me or leave me, but I will prove my innocence or go to my grave trying.”

Another tear. “You won’t have to go it alone. I’ll stand by you. My mind tells me that I shouldn’t; my heart says that I must.”