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Page 43 of The List

“Ten minutes later she stormed out of the house. An hour later she was dead,” Brent told his mother.

“You didn’t kill her,” his mother said.

“I might as well have.”

“You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

They were sitting at the kitchen table. He’d come home for lunch, finally deciding it was time his mother knew the truth. Outside, he could hear Grant and James from next door playing. It was only the second time he’d ever told anyone what happened that last day.

“Son, I realize Paula wasn’t the easiest person in the world.”

“I learned to deal with it.”

“What do you mean?”

“There were times when I genuinely cared for her, especially in the beginning. But other times I had to fight hard not to hate her. It seemed the older we got, the worse she became.”

“Paula just wanted to be something she wasn’t.”

“I was never unfaithful to her.” He felt a need to say it again.

“I know that. It wouldn’t be your nature to do otherwise.”

“But I couldn’t deny to her that I cared for Ashley.”

“Does Ashley love you?”

He nodded.

“She’s a fine woman. A little flirty, but the last time I looked that wasn’t a crime.”

He smiled. “No, thank God for that.”

“Everyone in this town would tell you she’s an excellent mother. She works hard, pays her bills. I’ve never heard anyone speak ill of her.”

“I made a mistake years ago. I should have never let things go as far as they did. Paula and I dated two years before we married. But I didn’t think a life with Ashley was possible. She was hard to pin down. So I settled for the next best thing. That was wrong.”

“But Paula made her own choice when she got into that car. You had no idea what she was going to do.”

No, he hadn’t. “She’d been depressed for a while, but that was nothing unusual for her. She had her moods. I guess she thought dying was better than divorcing. Who knows?”

“You have to let the past go. You can’t feel guilty all your life.”

“I keep thinking about that day and how upset she must have been when she died. I’ve tried to convince myself that she wouldn’t have been single long. A lot of men would want a woman like her.”

Similar, he thought, to the preference between solid wood furniture and wood veneer.

“You told Paula that day that you thought you loved Ashley. What about now, all these years later?”

He did not hesitate. “I still love her.”

“Then, son, it’s about time the both of you do something about it.”

6:05 P.M.

L EE GLANCED UP AS H UGHES BURST INTO THE OFFICE AND CLOSED the door. “Darrin Edwards is an oncologist. Chris’s been a patient for some time. He’s dying, Hamilton. Prostate cancer. It’s spread all over. There’s nothing they can do.”

“I knew it,” he said. “I’ve had that feeling all day. It’s starting to finally make sense. That old man is up to something.”

“But why? He’d only implicate himself.”

“He figures he’ll be dead by the time that happens.”

“Even so, his estate would be at risk.”

Lee rose and walked to the outer glass wall, downtown Atlanta framed before him.

“Chris has no immediate family, and he doesn’t give a damn about money anymore.

What he wants is our asses. He knows we’ve long shut him out of any real say in the company.

He’s always on my butt about not working.

You heard him at the board meeting. He doesn’t think I do a damn thing. ”

He turned and marched for the office door.

“Where are you going?”

“To find out what that bastard’s up to.”

It was nearly an hour past quitting time and the twenty-ninth floor loomed quiet.

Just the soft rush of the air-conditioning and the occasional pop of the outer walls as the tinted glass expanded and contracted from the late-afternoon sun.

They entered Bozin’s space through tall glass doors.

A stained mahogany door led from the secretarial station into the private office.

The knob was unlocked.

“Seems Chris is expecting us,” Lee said, as they walked inside.

“I’ve never known him to leave it unlocked,” Hughes said. “Maybe Nancy just forgot.”

“You and I both know that woman doesn’t do a thing without checking with him, and she doesn’t forget anything either. It’s unlocked because Chris told her to leave it that way.”

The building’s angular shape provided a multitude of corner spaces and each owner possessed a pentagon-shaped office large enough to include two exterior walls.

Bozin’s carpeted space reflected his noted dislike of a mess.

The desk sat devoid of paper, its top shiny and dust-free.

A few files were stacked in a blue leather basket on one side, telephone messages and mail neatly piled atop a blotter awaiting review.

A leather cup contained pens and sharpened pencils.

A brass banker’s lamp sat in the center.

The draperies for the two outer walls were open, the evening sun pouring in.

“Doesn’t look like anyone even works here,” Lee said.

Hughes gestured to the computer. “Chris does almost all his work electronically.”

“Check the desk?”

Hughes walked behind and tried the drawers, which opened.

No surprise.

He watched while Hughes searched. There was some stationery, a telephone book, pens, paper clips, stapler, and calculator. Everything neatly in place. Two file racks rested on a credenza behind the desk. He scanned them. Nothing of interest.

“What exactly are we looking for?” Hughes asked.

He motioned to the monitor. “Fire that thing up.”

Hughes rolled the chair closer and booted the terminal to the main menu.

“Any personal files?”

“I doubt if we could access them without knowing Chris’ password.”

“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

Hughes opened the directory, which was unprotected. “How did you know we could get in?”

“Because we’re supposed to look.”

They scanned the index. Mainly company financials. Most he recognized. Occasionally a personal file appeared that might bear investigating.

Toward the bottom his eyes locked on

FOR HAMILTON AND LARRY

“What is that?” Hughes asked, staring at the screen.

“It’s what we’re supposed to find. Call it up.”

Hughes did and they read the file in its entirety. Twice.

“We have a big problem,” Hughes said. “What’s gotten into Chris?”

“Revenge,” he muttered. “Is that file in the main system?”

Hughes shook his head. “It’s only stored here on this computer.”

“Erase it. Though I’m sure there’s more than one copy.”

Hughes pounded the keyboard. “What are we going to do, Hamilton?”

He studied his watch. 6:23 P.M.

“Nothing tonight. But first thing in the morning we’re going to get our tails to Concord.”

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