Page 78 of The List

THE LUNCH BREAK CAME AT NOON SHARP AND EVERYONE RECESSEDto the Comfort Inn’s dining room where a midday buffet of meat loaf, country-fried steak, snap peas, okra, corn, mashed potatoes, biscuits, and apple cobbler had been laid out. Chris watched while everyone piled their plates full. He then ordered a small salad from the menu with an iced tea. Upper management and Brent Walker joined him at a wall table.

“How’s Reed?” he asked his industrial relations director.

The company reps for the other two unions had already informed him that things were going smoothly with the paperworkers and machinists.

“Being his usual pain in the ass. Already raising hell about the five years. Wants it dropped to three today.”

“He’ll get his wish in a couple of days,” he said, adding a grin everyone understood.

Hamilton Lee had called last night and gloated about his Saturday meeting with Reed. He knew the two would talk. It had happened that way at every negotiation since the 1990s. A deal would be hammered out in private, the agreement being that Reed would surreptitiously convince the other two unions and his own members to go along. Not a practice federal labor laws would necessarily sanction, but one that worked. The company benefited. Employees benefited. And Reed benefited.

He turned to Brent Walker, assuming he was the only other person at the table who knew about Reed’s secret meeting withLee. “Just remember, Brent, union negotiations are not always as they appear. Far more illusion than reality.”

Brent grinned. “I’ll try and keep that in mind.”

Lunch ended at 1:00P.M.and everyone slowly made their way back for the afternoon bargaining session. On the way out Chris saw Brent push into the men’s room.

He followed.

Brent was towel-drying his face and hands when he stepped in and went straight to the urinal. They were alone.

“I meant what I said the other day. I truly want your insight on this whole process.”

“I’m not sure what I can offer other than to help with what the company may need.”

It took effort to pee and hurt, but he kept the pain to himself. He then flushed and stepped over to wash his hands. “I think you’re just being coy. We all know that you’ve been involved one way or the other with negotiations in the past. Hank relied heavily on your advice. You understand the process. I’m sure you know Hank met with Hamilton Lee on Saturday night, as they always do before the negotiations. You and I are the only two here that know that. So I assume you know a deal has already been made, at least in principle, and we just need to convince everyone else of its wisdom. Right?”

Brent stayed silent. Which was a tacit admission.

He yanked a paper towel from the dispenser. “I need your insight. Your help to convince everybody. I’m not asking you to betray a friend, only help your employer.” He tossed the crumpled paper into the trash. “I imagine Hank would even appreciate the help. It seems to be getting tougher and tougher to make these deals.”

He adjusted his tie and faced his newest employee.

“I’d also like to talk with you a little more. In private. Do you think you could have dinner with me?”

“Of course,” Brent said.

What else would the younger man say?

“Have you ever been to Hickory Row?”

“I’m afraid I’ve never made its guest list.”

“You have now. Come, tomorrow night. At seven. Dress comfortably. I’ll tell the front gate to expect you.”

2:40P.M.

ASHLEY WAS CLEARING OUT HER MAIL TRUCK FROM THE DAY’S RUN.Concord’s only post office sat on Highland Drive, north of the central business district. It was a gray government rectangle of rough granite shaded by tall oaks. A fenced asphalt parking lot spread out behind it, the gate open, and she saw a familiar vehicle motor in and stop.

Catherine Walker emerged.

Ashley was surprised. “Nice to see you. It’s been a while. What brings you by?” She tried to mask the apprehension in her voice.

“Something that needs to be done,” the older woman said, as she drew close. “The other day Brent and I had a chat. I told him then that life goes on. I’ve thought about that ever since and decided to take my own advice.” Catherine paused. “I have Alzheimer’s.”

Had she heard right? That couldn’t be.

“It’s in its early stages. But I have the disease.”