The Devil's Copper by Jamie Crothall (ebook audio reader .TXT) 📗

Walter’s signature trench coat appeared around the corner as he casually strode towards the door.  I assumed he had the same vague semblance of a plan that I did: to investigate Jack’s office for any further evidence. What he did not seem to be prepared for was the combination key lock on the side entrance.  I waited and watched as he walked up to the door, looked at the keypad, then began to enter random numbers.  He got it right on his first attempt.  This caused me to lean forward and grip the steering wheel.  Was this on chance coincidence, like the Nevada ticket?  First the computer password, and now this?  Either Jack told him this information or he got it somewhere else.

Walter went inside. I got out of the car and followed, not far behind.  I hoped the beeping of the combination lock when I entered the passcode was not too loud to alert him of me following.  I went up the two flights of stairs, and down the short length of hallways towards Jack’s office.

“Just more entries regarding ‘T’,” Walter said.

He said it moments before I entered the room.  Moments before he even saw me.

“What?” I asked.

He looked up from the computer, having already sat down at Jack’s desk.  The lights were off, but the monitor basked his face in dim, blue light.  “It was on, but locked.  More entries regarding meetings with ‘T’, but no context whatsoever.”

“How did you know?”

He pointed at the computer.  “It says so right here.”

“How did you know about ‘T’?” I asked warily.

“It…says so right here.”

“You said ‘more’ entries about ‘T’.”

“Yeah, like in the day planner.”

I was getting frustrated, not to mention worried.  “I never told you about the day planner!”

“Are you sure?  I’m not sure how else I’d know that.”

“I’m going to call security,” my mouth said.  I mean, it was probably a good plan, but it would have been nice if my brain had been consulted.

“What?  Why?” he asked, bewildered.

“Why do you think?  You know too much,” I spat.  My hands were shaking at this point.  “You know things I never told you.  You know his password.  You know his building access code.  You know how many people took him…”

“Okay, keep your voice down princess…” he insisted.

He made calming gestures and attempted to look amused.  But there was clearly a hint of concern in his eyes.  Then he rolled his eyes.

“Oh shit,” he muttered.

A figure darkened the doorway.  I knew him immediately, and felt a twinge of relief.  It was Barry, a security guard Jack was friendly with.  He was generally receptive to my presence.

“Can you identify yourselves please?” the security guard asked.

Oops. Maybe he didn’t know me as well as I thought.

Before I could stammer a response, Walter did.

“Barry!  How’s it going, man?”

“I’m sorry, do I…”

“How’s Sarah doing?”

“Sarah?  She’s…fine…doing fine…”

“You’ve been married, what, five years now?”

The security guard was clearly caught in a social nicety trap.  “Six, actually.”

“Oh man, six?  Feels like only a year ago, doesn’t it?  And the little one, Andrea?”

I could see by the look on Barry’s face that his brain was trying to wedge Walter’s face somewhere in his memory and convince himself he did recognize Walter after all.  “Yeah,” he said with a laugh.  “She’s, uh..well after the scare I mean…it’s all…”

Walter shook his head.  “I knew you two would get through that.  You’re both too strong to let something like that get you down.  I always told people that.”

“Well thanks man, I appreciate that.  But hey, is everything okay in here?” he asked, gesturing to us both.  “I thought I heard some raised voices.  I mean, this is private property and…”

“Oh, we’re just here for Jack.  He asked us to fetch a few things.  You remember Billie, right?”

Barry looked at me, with scrutiny on his face.  It took a few seconds before he showed some glimmer of recognition.  “Oh right, yeah!  You’re Jack’s, uh…yeah, no I remember you.  Look, just keep it down and make it quick, alright?  I mean, really, it’s just meant to be Jack in here after hours.”

“No worries man,” Walter said, pointing finger guns at him.  “We’ll be out of here in no time.”

“Alright, cool, thanks.”

“Say hi to Antony for me!” he called out as Barry left the room.

“You know him?” I asked.

Walter shook his head.  “Nah, lucky guess.  Anyway, where were we?”

Nothing surprised me at this point.  That’s not to say I wasn’t still concerned about Jack’s safety.  And my own.  I marched toward Walter, who rose out of his seat and backed away as though he feared his own personal safety.  I began looking through the drawers.  I didn’t find anything out of place – pens, papers, business cards, the birthday card I sent him at work (aww, he kept it), but nothing too telling.  Until I opened the bottom right drawer.  That’s always where you hide the real juicy stuff, isn’t it?  I stood up straight and stared back down at it.  When Walter saw my reaction, he joined me by my side and stared down with the same stunned expression.

“Why does Jack have a gun?” asked Walter.

“I…don’t know…” I said.

“Does he always have a gun?”

“You tell me.  You’ve known him longer.”

Walter shook his head.  “I can’t say it’s ever come up.”

I looked down at the gun, then assessed the size of my purse.  Before my brain could rationalize it any further I reached down and picked it up.

“What are you doing?”

“If Jack felt he needed a gun, now I probably do too.”

Walter raised his hands, somewhere between surrender and disavowal.  He ran his fingers through his hair as he took a few steps away.

It was a standard revolver. I couldn’t tell you much