Read Online Fall Guy by Carol Lea Benjamin - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Carol Lea Benjamin
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Tim was dead.
„We both got there early once,“ he said. „We were in the courtyard, just the two of us, waiting for the group to begin, neither of us saying boo. Then I figured, what the hell, and I told him I y thought the group was helping me. I did, too. I'd started going out to dinner with friends again. And I was sleeping better. Not great, but better. I asked Tim if he'd been feeling any better. I said I thought Richard was doing a good job, gently directing us toward certain issues, making us see that everything we thought and felt was normal, given the abnormal circumstances we were now stuck with. But Tim didn't share. He listened,“ Scott said. „He really listened. But he just didn't », add anything of his own. I thought he was a really nice man. I mean, I thought he must be a really nice man, attentive, caring. But he wasn't awfully forthcoming. It's hard for some people. That's what Richard kept saying, remember? I guess it was too hard for Tim to talk. Did you ever find out who he lost?“
„No,“ I said, „he didn't talk to me either.“
„But you said you were the executor of his will.“
„Right. It came as a complete surprise to me.“
„You're kidding. I didn't even know you could do that, make someone the executor without asking.“
„Don't get any ideas,“ I told him.
He laughed. „I promise I'll ask you first,“ he said. Then he asked if I'd called Richard. I said I hadn't, but I would. He asked about Dashiell. And he wished me luck.
I still couldn't reach John and decided to leave a second message. I hadn't called Richard last night. I had both home and office numbers, but I decided to call him at his office and not bother him at home. It wasn't exactly an emergency. He was very effusive when I said my name, then became silent when I told him why I was calling and what little I knew.
„I was just hoping to get a handle on him, to understand this thing. It bothers the hell out of me that I don't know why, that I don't know what he had in mind, making a decision like this. I don't know if you'd feel free to say, but I was wondering if you ever spoke with him privately, if there's anything at all you could tell me about the man that might make these circumstances...“
Richard cleared his throat, and for a moment I thought he was going to say, „He must have had his reasons,“ but he didn't. He said, „I hate this. I hate these complete failures. You try your damnedest to reach someone and they won't let you in, so you can't give them the help you know they need.“
„They said it was an accident,“ I said into the phone.
„There are no accidents, Rachel. Perhaps he didn't mean to do it consciously, but if he was a cop, he knew how to handle a gun, wouldn't you think?“
„His mother had just died. I guess he was pretty depressed.“
„I knew there'd be something. There always is. Poor man. I wish he'd called me.“
„Had he ever, since the group?“
There was a silence, Richard weighing patient confidentiality when the person in question wasn't his patient. „No. He never called,“ he said. „I didn't know him either, Rachel.“
I thanked him and hung up.
When I put the phone down, it rang. It was Brody this time, saying I could have access to O'Fallon's apartment. Since I couldn't be sure who might have keys besides the police and me, I called the closest locksmith and asked him to meet me at Tim's apartment. I grabbed a pair of rubber gloves from under the sink, O'Fallon's briefcase, and the leash, and Dashiell and I headed out. The phone started ringing as I was closing the door. I walked back in and stood at the foot of the stairs, listening to Parker's voice as my answering machine was recording it. He was still talking when I closed the door and locked it behind me.
CHAPTER 8
The locksmith's name was Nick. It said so on the front of his shirt. On the back it said „Nick's Locks,“ in case you caught him going instead of coming. As I unlocked the
„We both got there early once,“ he said. „We were in the courtyard, just the two of us, waiting for the group to begin, neither of us saying boo. Then I figured, what the hell, and I told him I y thought the group was helping me. I did, too. I'd started going out to dinner with friends again. And I was sleeping better. Not great, but better. I asked Tim if he'd been feeling any better. I said I thought Richard was doing a good job, gently directing us toward certain issues, making us see that everything we thought and felt was normal, given the abnormal circumstances we were now stuck with. But Tim didn't share. He listened,“ Scott said. „He really listened. But he just didn't », add anything of his own. I thought he was a really nice man. I mean, I thought he must be a really nice man, attentive, caring. But he wasn't awfully forthcoming. It's hard for some people. That's what Richard kept saying, remember? I guess it was too hard for Tim to talk. Did you ever find out who he lost?“
„No,“ I said, „he didn't talk to me either.“
„But you said you were the executor of his will.“
„Right. It came as a complete surprise to me.“
„You're kidding. I didn't even know you could do that, make someone the executor without asking.“
„Don't get any ideas,“ I told him.
He laughed. „I promise I'll ask you first,“ he said. Then he asked if I'd called Richard. I said I hadn't, but I would. He asked about Dashiell. And he wished me luck.
I still couldn't reach John and decided to leave a second message. I hadn't called Richard last night. I had both home and office numbers, but I decided to call him at his office and not bother him at home. It wasn't exactly an emergency. He was very effusive when I said my name, then became silent when I told him why I was calling and what little I knew.
„I was just hoping to get a handle on him, to understand this thing. It bothers the hell out of me that I don't know why, that I don't know what he had in mind, making a decision like this. I don't know if you'd feel free to say, but I was wondering if you ever spoke with him privately, if there's anything at all you could tell me about the man that might make these circumstances...“
Richard cleared his throat, and for a moment I thought he was going to say, „He must have had his reasons,“ but he didn't. He said, „I hate this. I hate these complete failures. You try your damnedest to reach someone and they won't let you in, so you can't give them the help you know they need.“
„They said it was an accident,“ I said into the phone.
„There are no accidents, Rachel. Perhaps he didn't mean to do it consciously, but if he was a cop, he knew how to handle a gun, wouldn't you think?“
„His mother had just died. I guess he was pretty depressed.“
„I knew there'd be something. There always is. Poor man. I wish he'd called me.“
„Had he ever, since the group?“
There was a silence, Richard weighing patient confidentiality when the person in question wasn't his patient. „No. He never called,“ he said. „I didn't know him either, Rachel.“
I thanked him and hung up.
When I put the phone down, it rang. It was Brody this time, saying I could have access to O'Fallon's apartment. Since I couldn't be sure who might have keys besides the police and me, I called the closest locksmith and asked him to meet me at Tim's apartment. I grabbed a pair of rubber gloves from under the sink, O'Fallon's briefcase, and the leash, and Dashiell and I headed out. The phone started ringing as I was closing the door. I walked back in and stood at the foot of the stairs, listening to Parker's voice as my answering machine was recording it. He was still talking when I closed the door and locked it behind me.
CHAPTER 8
The locksmith's name was Nick. It said so on the front of his shirt. On the back it said „Nick's Locks,“ in case you caught him going instead of coming. As I unlocked the
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