“Oh, why didn’t he just say that?”
“He’s a man. It’s mandatory that he use war or sports analogies when speaking. They’re taught that in guy camp.”
“That was a joke, right?”
“Exactly.”
“Okay, so what’s next?” she asked.
Harlan took over again.
“I’ve talked to Tad Johnson, and the contract on the house in which you currently live is now closed and owned by another family. The closing for the mansion your mother bought is set for this afternoon. Inspection is already done. There are no issues with the house. I’ve reviewed the contract, and it is clean. Your mother has one task left to complete regarding the house. None of your money will be involved. And the contract is binding. So, you have achieved your effect. Your mother is trapped. She will have about half the capital for the house yet will not be able to afford the mortgage that she will be required to obtain. She will have to immediately resell at a significantly lower price, unless of course someone loans her the money. Perhaps your grandmother. Your only obligation is to now stay out of the way. Can you do that?”
“Sometimes the way finds me,” Amanda responded.
“Then hide. Stay in your room,” Harlan emphasized.
“What did she forget?”
“I’ll discuss that with you tomorrow, for your own safety.”
Amanda paused. “Just tell me?”
“It seems amongst everything going on she has yet to insure the new house.”
“Oh, well, she’ll get that resolved fast enough, trust me on that.” She looked at Harlan, who stared at her until she broke the gaze. A thought came into her mind, and then she changed the subject. “What about Jake?”
“I’ve hired a private investigator, who is in North Carolina now doing some interviews of neighbors and talking to your buddies at the NCBI. With Dagus’s name we should be able to move quickly. Someone should be able to recognize him,” Harlan said.
“Right.”
“Once we have more information, we should be able to get Jake cleared and charge the appropriate person.”
“Well, I’ll give you everything I’ve got on him. What about Miss Dwyer?”
“Riley’s doing fine. She went home today, a bit banged up, but she’ll survive, which apparently she wasn’t supposed to based upon some other things we’ve already found.”
“You’re joking.”
“Afraid not. So, I come back to ‘stay out of the way’.” He emphasized the last five words by shaking his finger at her. “This is dangerous. And being the student of human behavior that I am, I fear you might be in jeopardy.”
“How so?”
“Well, here’s the way I see it. If the one person who has been orchestrating all of this catches wind of what you have been up to, you could become the victim of a preemptive strike.”
Amanda nodded.
“And, second, once we execute the plan, there is the off chance that you may be associated with some of what has transpired. Some people will be angry with you.”
“I can handle angry,” Amanda said.
“Can you handle a murderous rage?”
“Probably not.”
“Then, again, stay out of the way.”
Mary Ann dropped Amanda back at the Charlotte airport thirty minutes prior to the time her mother was scheduled to arrive.
“Remember—”
“I know, stay out of the way, right?” Amanda interrupted.
“No,” Mary Ann countered. They were standing on the curb as a policeman was walking toward them, assuredly prepared to tell them to move along. “I want to help you any way that I can. I think we’ve got a good, safe plan, Amanda. So, just stay in touch, okay?”
Amanda sized up Mary Ann. Dark hair tossed across her smooth face. Her clear countenance exuded both confidence and warmth. Why had she not had a female role model such as this, she wondered?
“Thank you. I’ll be in touch.”
They hugged tightly. Mary Ann waved off the cop, hugged her again, and then said, “Okay, homie, be careful.”
Amanda nodded, grabbed her duffle bag, and then walked inside the terminal. A few minutes later she appeared outside farther down the arrivals section, as if she had just arrived on her originally scheduled flight.
She never saw the individual who had been waiting on her all along.
CHAPTER 66
For Amanda, the drive to Spartanburg was another torturous journey. Her mother was relentless, probing her for information at every turn.
“So, tell me about the funeral, Amanda.”
“Mom, there’s nothing to tell. I was there with Matt and some others. It’s over.”
“We’re talking about your father, right?”
She shook her head violently and emphasized, “Enough! Stop with the questions, Mother. What is it with you? Are you so damn self-centered that you can’t see past yourself?”
“Don’t talk to me that way, Amanda. Who do you think you are?”
“I’m sorry,” she demurred. “I’m just emotional. Can we just agree not to talk about it? I mean, I’ve got a few days until graduation. I turn eighteen soon. Trust me, I’m stressed.” She touched her mother’s arm. “Sorry. Can we talk about something else, you know? Like how’s the closing coming on the house?”
Melanie Garrett paused and then patted Amanda on her leg. “We went ahead and did it today. The sellers gave us a fifty thousand dollar discount for doing so. We were preapproved for the loan once you agreed to join us in the business venture.”
“All of that sounds good.”
“Well, we don’t have to make a payment until the first of July, so the bank has loaned us the money and then we just dump the insurance money against the mortgage and pay it down. So we’ll be borrowing about a million dollars, so these Army guys better come through.”
“They promised me it’s all going to be okay, Mom. Don’t worry about it. You’ll probably pay down the mortgage before the first payment is due. And this is great. It’s your dream house.”
She watched her mother, pale-blue eyes fixed to the road. She seemed lost in another world, perhaps envisioning how she would move her Ethan Allen maple dining room table into the new mansion or how she would decorate for the house-warming party. A slight smile turned up at the corner of her mother’s mouth while her eyes sparkled.
“Yes. My dream house.” The words were ushered from her mouth as if in a sigh. It was a swooning declaration. She was finally going to arrive. She had arrived! The years of plying away and trying to scrape her way into the upper crust had finally borne fruit. It would all be hers. “You’ve done well.”
At that moment, Amanda did not know to whom her mother was speaking. It was creepy, she thought, the trance she had slipped into. How she could drive and be visualizing another scene was scary enough.
They continued driving in the eerie silence, her mother rearranging furniture in her daydream, most likely. Or maybe she was entertaining Ted Turner and some of the CNN anchors she always seemed to criticize. “She’s ugly.” “Who dressed her?” “That’s a terrible tie.” Amanda laid her head back against the stiff leather headrest and closed her eyes.
Eventually she felt her mother’s hand on her knee. “Better off he’s gone, you know? No more hassle. Turns out he was worth more dead than alive.”
Amanda squeezed her mother’s hand, but kept her eyes closed, then turned her head toward the window. She stared through the passenger-side window to her right, watching the traffic ebb and flow around her. An old lady driving a large Buick crawled along, inviting mild road rage from those trying to pass. Amanda stared into the sideview mirror with the cautionary words about objects being larger than they appear. Her blank gaze migrated to one of curiosity as she thought she recognized a vehicle trapped in the web of cars and trucks behind her mother’s Mercedes.