Termination Man: a novel (57 page)

An odd silence filled the room in the aftermath of Kurt’s outburst. The elder Myers’s face had reddened. A vein protruded from his forehead. The younger Myers met his father’s rage-filled stare with one filled with an equal measure of defiance.

“Dad,” he said. “I told you I didn’t do anything to that girl. And I certainly didn't kill anyone. Come on.” He appealed to Bernie for assistance. “That’s crazy.”

Bernie regarded the closed door of the meeting room. His face reflected a sentiment that would have been shared by all of them: This would be a bad time for an eavesdropper to be listening just outside the door.

“All right, gentlemen. Let’s regroup,” the lawyer said. “We’ve all got frayed nerves after that Channel 11 report. We have to focus on the tasks ahead of us. None of us knows—” Bernie involuntarily glanced at Shawn, then immediately looked away. “None of us knows what sort of revelation Citizens for Corporate Truth is going to spring on us in the upcoming days. And let’s look at this on the bright side: They could have nothing more than some bogus violation of an obscure environmental code under their sleeves.”

“That woman more or less implied a revelation of murder,” Kurt said. “She spoke of ‘crimes against persons’ and ‘unconscionable abuses of power.’ That isn’t the sort of language one uses to describe an environmental code violation.”

“Nothing more than talk at this point,” Bernie said dismissively. “It could very well be an idle threat. I know that Channel 11 report was damaging, but let’s keep this in perspective. So far, there are no
official
allegations against the company or anyone in our management hierarchy. I suspect that we’re up against nothing but a manipulative teenaged girl, her mother, and some fanatical anti-business group.”

“Ask Michael Freeman if we have any grounds to sue Channel 11,” Kurt said. “Janet Porter made some serious insinuations. I want you to write the station a letter and tell them that we’re looking into legal action. That may cool their enthusiasm for letting that woman on the air again.”

“Already on it,” Bernie said. “We’ll mobilize every available resource to protect the livelihoods of the workers in this factory and the good name of TP Automotive.”

“Well, there you have it,” Kurt said. Then to Shawn: “Leave Bernie and me alone for a while now. We have another matter to discuss. It doesn’t concern you.”

Shawn was indignant: “What am I, Beth Fisk?”

Kurt sighed. “Just do it. This is a mundane matter. Speaking of Beth Fisk, ask her to follow up with the factory floor supervisors. See how the workers reacted to the company’s explanation of that damned news report.”

Resigned, Shawn stood up and left the room. When he had gone, Kurt asked: “What about Craig Walker? Is it time to release him? He’s done everything we originally hired him for. And now he’s become nothing but trouble.”

Bernie shook his head. “I don’t think that’s wise. Not at the moment. We know that he’s nursing a grudge against Shawn.”

Grudge was probably an understatement, Kurt knew. Craig and his son had nearly come to blows on that night several weeks ago. Shawn had told him that the consultant was attempting to “show off for the cleaning woman’s daughter.” According to Shawn, the girl Alyssa had displayed unprovoked rudeness when he had asked her to clean the hall more thoroughly. Shawn admitted that he had handled the matter poorly.

“I called her a little spoiled brat,” Shawn had explained. “And then she went ballistic, and then Craig Walker came on the scene and decided to take their side by physically assaulting me.”

Kurt had never questioned Walker about the matter—nor had anyone from the TP Automotive team. That would suggest internal division; and that might prompt Walker—or others—to look deeper into the conduct of his son.

Kurt knew that Shawn’s rendition of his confrontation with Craig Walker was likely skewed. He had probably told the teenaged girl that she had a nice ass or something equally stupid, and that had been the trigger that started the whole melee. Well, the girl was probably far from innocent. How many high school girls
were
innocent nowadays? Nevertheless, Shawn had committed a major blunder. He should have ignored the girl completely. If he really had needed to remark about some aspect of the cleaning company’s work, he should have directed his comments to the woman—not her daughter. Kurt knew that there was something about his son and women that was not quite right. He had known that for years.

“Moreover,” Bernie continued. “We need more time to gauge Craig’s reaction to our little chat outside Donna Chalmers’ house. And Craig will be much easier to watch if he’s onsite versus off on another consulting job for another company. Of course, he could decide to leave on his own, after the way we scared him the other night.”

“Craig won’t leave on his own initiative,” Kurt said. “That would be an open acknowledgement of fear—an admission that we got to him.” Kurt chuckled, and reflected that this was the first moment of levity he had enjoyed since the Channel 11 report had come to light. “Did you see Craig’s face when he got a look at Adam?”

Bernie smiled in response. “For a moment there, the Termination Man lost his composure. But then, we can’t really fault him too much for his reaction, can we? Adam isn’t the sort of guy that anyone would like to meet up with on the street at night.”

Adam Seitz was the hulk who had accompanied Kurt and Bernie on their evening expedition to Donna Chalmers’ house. Adam was a member of TP Automotive’s corporate security team. Though based in Detroit, he was occasionally dispatched to the company’s remote locations when a situation required a hint of physical intimidation. Thus far, Adam had never had to actually lay a hand on anyone. His mere presence had always been more than enough to convince a recalcitrant employee or contractor that TP Automotive was not a company to be trifled with.  

“Craig did his best to show a poker face,” Kurt said. “I’ll give him that. But I could see the fear in his eyes. He was scared. If we’re lucky, that will be enough to bring him back into line. I would hate to see the Craig Walker matter escalate. And truth be told, I always feel a little bad when we have to bring Adam into a situation. We both know that he’s just for show, but I don’t like the idea of physically threatening people—even by implication.”

But Craig Walker could make the problems with Shawn far more difficult to resolve
, Kurt thought.
What was
Craig
up to? Why did he have to poke the cleaning woman?
He
was a good-looking man; and there were plenty of other women out there that he could have. Like that dish Claire, his assistant. Now that’s one that I wouldn’t mind poking myself
, Kurt reflected.

“And I don’t like the idea of people making scurrilous attacks on the company,” Bernie said.

Kurt nodded. “Neither do I. As we both know, TP Automotive is one of the pillars of the national—or rather, the
global
—automotive industry. Thousands of people around the world rely on us for jobs. Two thirds of the vehicles on the road contain our components. The survival and prosperity of this company outweighs the concerns of Craig Walker, and of that cleaning woman and her daughter, for that matter. It’s up to us—members of the company’s management—to remember what’s important.  This is something that we must never forget, Bernie.”

Claire finally pushed Shawn away—gently, with a smile, but firmly. He had insisted on making love to her three times that evening—once before dinner, and then twice after they arrived back at her hotel room.

She knew that she had a hold on him; but she also knew that no thirty-something man requires more than three orgasms in a single day. He was trying to prove a point now—trying to demonstrate his manhood.

“Enough,” she said, running her hand down his chest as she guided him back to his side of the bed. “You flatter me, Shawn, you really do. It’s been a long time since a man wanted me so much.”

“Well, don’t flatter yourself
too
much,” he said. “I’ve had a lot of women, you know”

“Of course you have,” she said neutrally. But she knew better. Shawn betrayed his lack of experience and confidence through his eagerness. There was an awkward desperation in the way that he practically attacked her each time, like a sex-starved sixteen-year-old boy. The fury of his groping hands and his wild thrusts revealed that he was incredulous of his luck. On some level he did not fully believe that a woman like herself actually wanted to be with him. And this was her leverage against him, if she ever needed it.

He rolled over and lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. In these post-coital moments, it was his usual habit to allow his eyes and hands to linger on her body. To celebrate his possession of her. But his mood had suddenly shifted. Wherever Shawn Myers’s thoughts might be, they were far from this room.

“I think you’re distracted now,” she said.

“Distracted? How do you mean?” There was an edge to his voice. For a split second she wondered if Craig might have been right about Shawn—if he really was dangerous.

No
, she decided. Shawn Myers was not dangerous. At least he wasn’t dangerous to
her
—which was the only thing that really mattered.

Shawn was nothing more than an insecure boy in a man’s body. She would be able to manipulate him at will. And that included manipulating him to tell her everything. If there were to be secrets in their relationship, they would be hers—not his.

She wanted to know what he was thinking about.
He wasn’t keeping secrets from her, was he?
Secrets could not be tolerated (again, unless they were
her
secrets). Secrets would weaken her hold on him—make him more difficult to control.

“What I mean, Shawn, is that with all the recent turmoil, it’s understandable that you’re a little distracted. The cleaning woman’s daughter making up those stories about you and whatnot. It’s got to be getting under your skin.”

“I’m fine,” he insisted. “It’s all a bunch of BS.”

Spoken li
ke a high
school boy
, she thought. Shawn’s reply sounded like something that her long-ago boyfriend, Jamie Watkins, would have said. Men were all the same—whether they lived in rented trailers, or luxury mansions in the richest suburbs of Detroit. They all wanted to demonstrate that nothing could touch them. Well, men were wrong about that aspect of themselves.
Hadn’t she gotten under this one’s skin quite easily?

“What about that report on television?” she asked.

“You mean Channel 11?”

“Unless there are other TV stations threatening to expose scandals at TP Automotive. Are there more of them? Should I check CNN?”

“Very funny,” he retorted. “Like I said, it’s nothing. You can bet that the woman on TV has some connection to Donna Chalmers.”

“She seems to be intent on seeing you publicly humiliated and condemned.”

Shawn’s cheeks darkened; and a part of her delighted in taunting him. It was so easy to push his buttons.
Almost too easy, really
.

“She’s going to be the one who’s sorry before all of this is over,” he said.

“Well,” She leaned back on her pillow, accentuating the casualness of her next barb. “Craig certainly seems intent on burning you, too. What about him?”

Shawn snorted. “
You mean your boss?
Craig is an asshole. If it had been up to me, we would never have hired him.”

“The two of you don’t seem to like each other very much. He’s had some pretty bad things to say about you, too.”

“So you’ve told me,” Shawn said. “And don’t think that I don’t know what the cleaning woman has been saying. I exchanged words with her spoiled brat of a daughter on several occasions—I’ll admit to that much. But there was nothing sexual about it. All I was doing was correcting the way she was carrying out her job. That’s part of my responsibility, you know. I’m one of the senior managers at UP&S, at least until I can get out of this bumfuck town and go back to corporate.” He shook his head. “Damn, I miss my place in Bloomfield Hills. I can’t wait to get out of Columbus—out of New Hastings.”

She knew that his mention of Bloomfield Hills had not been unintentional; and the reference had its desired effect. Bloomfield Hills represented everything that Claire had always wanted. It was a million miles away from the hardscrabble, blue-collar Michigan town where she had grown up and squandered those first few years of her young adulthood. Nestled safely beyond the crumbling neighborhoods of inner-city Detroit, Bloomfield Hills was one of the most prosperous communities in the Midwest. Per capita income was in the six-figure range. Bloomfield Hills was home to the elite of Detroit’s automotive industry. It was a place of ivy-covered mansions, where automotive executives shared neighborhoods with star names from the rosters of Detroit’s professional athletic teams. Despite the overall decay of the nearby city of Detroit, there was no poverty to speak of in Bloomfield Hills.

“I’ve got a condo in Bloomfield Hills,” Shawn went on. “My real estate agent tells me that it’s worth three hundred thousand, even in this shitty market. It's a nice place: You’ve heard of Antonio Browne—the Pistons forward? He lives just down the street from me. The HOA maintains a clubhouse that serves warm champagne during the winter. We’ve also got one of the top five health clubs in the Detroit area, right there, within walking distance of my front door. Can you see why I want to get out of here? My place in Michigan sounds nice, doesn’t it?”