Vertical Burn - Earl Emerson [61]
“There’s nothing in the world warms my blood faster than a man in the throes of a full homoerotic panic,” Stillman said, smiling broadly and standing back to appraise a job well done.
“That wasn’t panic,” Sadler said.
“Hell, it wasn’t.”
“It wasn’t!”
“Maybe I should have given you a big wet one on the lips.” Sadler flew out of the room, laughter chasing him up the hallway.
Turning back to Finney, Stillman said, “Oh, man, you got fucked. I still don’t understand how Charlie scarfed up all that glory and that award for accomplishing basically nothing. Does that make sense? He goes into a building on a search, he comes out empty-handed, and they give him an award? Not to mention, three months later he’s sitting on the big Kahuna’s throne.”
Leaving the room with Jerry Monahan, Oscar winked and slapped Finney on the back. “Don’t worry, buddy. You’ll think of something. Every dog has his day.”
A few minutes later Gary Sadler poked his head out of the officer’s rest room in the hallway. “He gone?”
“Talking to Jerry on the apparatus floor,” said Finney.
“Christ, he’s crazy. I’ll be in my office till he leaves. Let me know when it’s safe to come out.”
Finney was washing spinach for the salad when another visitor appeared at the back door, Linda Monahan, Jerry’s wife. Finney let her in, offering her a seat and a cup of coffee, then called Jerry on the intercom to let him know she was here. Whatever else Jerry Monahan had done with his life, he’d certainly married a decent woman. They were Mormons, at least she was, and she’d presented him with five children, all boys, the youngest still at home. She’d worked through all of her pregnancies and had bailed Jerry out of financial difficulties several times during their marriage. Finney knew of three occasions in the last twenty years when, single-handed, she’d managed to save their home after Jerry went broke and the bank threatened to foreclose.
“How is it out there?” Finney asked. “Traffic bad?”
Linda Monahan was ten or eleven years older than Finney, and had dyed her hair black to complement her milky complexion. Her eyes were hazel and flitted away from his nervously at unpredictable moments as she spoke. Dressed in a plaid business suit, she was trim and tidy, sitting with her legs crossed at the ankles, her purse in her lap. “It’s so dark and gray out, that’s all.”
“It’s going to be worse next week when Daylight Saving Time ends.”
“Sometimes I wish for a whole year of sunshine. If we could have one year, maybe we could coast through this gray a little easier.”
“It gets to me, too.”
“Arizona was sunny. That’s where I met Jerry. He was on his mission. He was four years older than me, and it was love at first sight.”
It was hard for Finney to imagine Jerry Monahan inspiring love at first sight. But then, he did have that ingenuous smile.
“Jerry ever get that time off he needed?”
“Time off?”
“November seventh? Your anniversary?”
“We were married April twentieth. Whatever made you think it was in November? Jerry would never get that wrong.”
“I must have misunderstood. Maybe it was a birthday?”
“We don’t celebrate anything in November except Thanksgiving.”
Finney’s memory worked erratically these days, but he could have sworn Monahan told them he needed the shift off because it was his anniversary.
After Monahan showed up and walked her out to the parking lot, Finney went down the hallway to the officer’s room and peeked in at Sadler. “I was just wondering if it would cause a problem if I was off on the seventh of November.”
Tucking the phone under his chin, Sadler flipped open the captain’s journal. “Jerry’s already got it off. His anniversary.”
31. PATTERSON COLE
Late Monday morning, after calling Cole’s office for an appointment and getting the brush-off, Finney decided an impromptu visit was in order. He bluffed his way past a series of security guards in gray blazers, stepped off the elevator on forty-two, and glimpsed Cole and another man entering an office through tall glass doors at the end of the corridor. In person, Patterson Cole was a tall