Gold Hill (26 page)

“
Tea?” he
asked.

Valerie nodded. He poured
water into her cup and made himself a cup of instant
coffee.

“
Instant? Really?” Valerie
asked.

“
We have babies due,”
Jacob shrugged. “It’s the best I can do.”

“
How’s Jill?”

“
The same as she was last
night,” Jacob said. “What’s up?”

“
Do you hate me Jake or
are you just surly?” Valerie asked.

“
I’m trying not to read
people’s minds uninvited,” Jacob said.

“
Oh,” Valerie said.
“Why?”

“
Because Delphie thinks my
psychic ability activates the boys’ psychic ability,” Jacob said.
“We reach out to each other in the dark. Or that’s what she says.
Katy and I are on strict lock down for the next month or so until
the boys are big enough to be born.”

“
Oh.”

“
But people like you
wander around expecting me to know what’s on their mind and
it’s . . . ” He scowled at her.
“Frustrating.”

“
All women expect men to
know what’s on their minds, Jake,” Valerie said. “It’s part of
being a woman. You’ve just been lucky because you always do
know.”

“
Jeez, what does Mike
do?”

“
He thinks I’m crazy,”
Valerie said.

Jacob smirked.

“
Very funny,” Valerie
said. “Listen, the developer in Brighton called me and told me that
the house is gone! He showed up to the site this morning and the
house is gone! My house! Disappeared.”

“
The white elephant is
gone? Missing?” Jacob asked. “What a shame.”

“
That’s not funny,”
Valerie said. “It was an expensive building and the school really
needs a new home and . . . ”

“
Oh good you’re home,”
Jill said as she waddled out from the bedroom. Jacob turned to hold
her and for a moment, his entire world was complete. She kissed him
and shifted away. “Hi Val.”

“
Oh,” Valerie said. “You
just got home?”

“
Val’s worried because her
house is missing,” Jacob said.

Jill smiled.

“
Where’s my house?”
Valerie asked.

“
The new Marlowe School is
sitting on trailer trucks on a big lot near the airport,” Jacob
said.

“
Oh,” Valerie smiled her
big manipulative smile. Jacob smiled back. “Are you going to tell
me why?”

“
We’re not sure where the
best place to put the new Marlowe school,” Jill said.

“
What do you
mean?”

“
The new job will shift a
large portion of the company out east for the next three or four
years,” Jacob said. “We can buy land out there very inexpensively
and build an estate around the school. Or we can stick it in the
middle of town surrounded by buildings and restaurants.”

“
An estate?”

“
Like Kent school or
Colorado Academy,” Jacob said. “Those schools were built when the
property was inexpensive out south. The city grew to surround them.
Over time, that will happen around the airport as well.”

“
Well, you’re kind of
making that happen,” Valerie said.

“
Right,” Jacob
said.

“
Would people bring their
kids out there?” Valerie asked.

“
That’s the question,”
Jacob said. “We think we might try to keep both facilities. With
your donation of the building itself, we probably can. Did you
donate the building?”

“
Sure,” Valerie said. “Why
don’t I know about this?”

“
You’re on maternity
leave,” Jacob said.

“
So you’re the head of the
Marlowe school for one week and all this happens,” Valerie
said.

“
Something like that,”
Jacob said.

“
Can the company get big
enough to do both – big enough to do the work in town and work out
there?” Valerie asked.

“
That’s the big question,”
Jacob said. “Mom did it when we worked on the airport. But I don’t
know.”

“
Oh. Well, okay,” Valerie
got up from her seat at the counter. “Bye.”

“
You should be back in
bed,” Jacob said to Jill.

“
Um, Jake,” Valerie said
at the doorway.

Jill and Jacob looked over
at her.

“
Thanks
for . . . well, you know.” She closed the door and
was gone.

“
Any idea what she’s
thanking me for?”

“
None,” Jill
said.

“
Let’s get back in
bed.”

“
You coming?”

“
Mooooommmmmyyyyyy!!” Katy
called from her bedroom.

“
I’ll get her,” Jacob
said.

Smiling at him, Jill went
back to bed. In a few minutes, Jacob and Katy joined her in for
their morning snuggle. It was the best part of the day.

~~~~~~~~

Tuesday morning — 11:55
a.m.

“
Son?”

Asleep, Jeraine rolled
over.

“
Jeraine?”

He felt a hand shake him
and he opened his eyes. A shard of pain flashed through his
brain.

“
Hi Dad,” he shaded his
eyes with his hand.

“
Son, you doing drugs?”
Bumpy asked.

“
I have to take this pill
after I go to treatment,” Jeraine said.

“
Hmm,” Bumpy picked up the
prescription bottle Jeraine gestured to. “Migraines?”

“
Head pain,” Jeraine said.
“Non-narcotic, blah, blah, blah, whatever.”

He rolled over away from
Bumpy’s invasive eyes.

“
I’m early,” Bumpy looked
at his watch. “We’re supposed to have lunch.”

“
Right,” Jeraine said.
“Can you shut off the light?”

Jeraine pulled the pillow
over his eyes and his aching head. Bumpy flicked off the
light.

“
Where are those movie
people?” Bumpy asked.

“
They went to work out,”
Jeraine said through the pillow. Bumpy grabbed the pillow and
pulled it off his face. “Since we’re having lunch, they thought
they’d go explore Denver a little.”

“
Seth said everything’s on
hold,” Bumpy said. “He’s flying to LA this morning
and . . . ”

“
Right,” Jeraine said.
“Seth wants to check something out for himself. He should be back
tomorrow or maybe the next day; depends on what he finds.
Why?”

“
What are you doing
tomorrow?” Bumpy asked.

“
Nothing,” Jeraine said.
“The movie guys have some funding meeting for their next project.
Downtown. All day.”

“
No brain
therapy?”

“
It’s two days on one day
off,” Jeraine said. “I have to give my brain some time to heal. I’d
have to ask Tanesha but I think all I have is a training session
Wednesday night.”

“
Your woman keeps your
schedule?”

“
Mom keeps yours,” Jeraine
said.

Bumpy made an irritated
sound.

“
She writes our schedule
on the refrigerator,” Jeraine gestured out the door.

He felt his father leave
the room. When he left, Jeraine pulled the pillow back over his
head. He was almost asleep when Bumpy said, “Says here you don’t
train until six.”

Jeraine pushed the pillow
off his head and tried to sit up. He groaned and fell back to the
bed.

“
What’s wrong with you?”
Bumpy asked.

“
Terrible headache,”
Jeraine said.

Bumpy looked at him for a
moment and disappeared again. When he came back, he laid a cool
washcloth over Jeraine’s forehead and eyes. Bumpy picked up his
son’s hand and began putting hard pressure on the fleshy space
between Jeraine’s thumb and the index finger.

“
What are you doing?”
Jeraine asked.

“
How’s your headache?”
Bumpy asked.

“
Better,” Jeraine said.
“That’s weird.”

“
Weird that I know
something or weird that it worked?”

“
Yeah,” Jeraine sat
up.

Scowling, Bumpy shook his
head. Jeraine laughed.

“
Did you want to do
something tomorrow?” Jeraine asked.

“
Tomorrow?” Bumpy asked.
“Right. Yes. I need to take care of something. I’d like you to come
with me.”

“
Okay,” Jeraine said. “Are
you going to tell me what?”

“
It’s old family
business,” Bumpy said. “We need to make some decisions. For the
family.”

“
Is Mom coming?
LaTonya?”

“
We are the men of the
family,” Bumpy said. “We need to make this decision.”

“
Mom’s not going to like
that,” Jeraine said.

“
She told me to take you,”
Bumpy said. “And LaTonya?”

Bumpy shook his
head.

“
Yeah,” Jeraine said. “She
doesn’t give a shit about any old family stuff.”

“
Do you?”

Jeraine felt the weight of
his father’s eyes on him. In the past, he would have had a surly
answer to that question.

“
You going to tell me
what’s going on? Or leave me in the dark like a child?” He repeated
something Tanesha frequently said to Rodney. “’Cuz I’ve got a lot
better things to do than play child to your grown up.”

Bumpy nodded.

“
Well?”

“
That girl is good for
you,” Bumpy said.

“
What’s it going to
be?”

“
Tomorrow,” Bumpy said.
“I’ll pick you up at six.”

“
Can’t do six,” Jeraine
said. “I take Miss T to the bus stop at 6:30 a.m.”

“
6:30 then,” Bumpy said.
“Wear jeans, boots. You’re going to get dirty. Bring a hat, gloves
and . . .  Ah hell, I’ll bring that stuff. Your
mother’s packing lunch. Might take all day.”

“
I’ll cancel with the
trainer.”

“
Probably a good idea,”
Bumpy said.

“
What’s the emergency,
Dad?” Jeraine asked. “I mean, you’re taking a whole day off from
the office? Mid week? When was the last time you did
that?”

“
The day you were born,”
Bumpy said.

“
So this is a big deal,”
Jeraine said.

“
This is a big deal,”
Bumpy said.

“
And you’re going to tell
me all about it?” Jeraine asked. “No half-truths? Long pointless
stories to obfuscate the truth? No convenient I forgots or you
wouldn’t understands?”

“
Obfuscate? Where did you
learn a word like that?”

Jeraine gave him a sour
look.

“
I’ll tell you what I
know,” Bumpy nodded.

“
Then I’m in,” Jeraine
smiled. He shifted and the headache came back.

“
You still up for lunch?”
Bumpy asked.

Nodding, Jeraine got out of
bed, grabbed his sunglasses, and started out of the
house.

“
Pull up your pants,”
Bumpy said. “You’re not going to wear those glasses at lunch are
you? You look like a fool.”

Chuckling to himself,
Jeraine followed Bumpy out of the penthouse.

~~~~~~~~

Tuesday afternoon — 3:55
p.m.

“
You’re sure about this?”
The publisher looked over his reading glasses at Westword’s
managing editor. “If we’re
wrong . . . ”

“
We’re not wrong,” Barton
Gaston shifted forward. “He owns the duplex. The other apartments
are used for the same purposes. The money all goes back to an
account he opened almost twenty years ago. Expenses and profits.
His taxes indicate that it’s a professional services group. They
just don’t indicate which professional services.”

“
And you’re sure it’s
prostitution?”

“
It’s prostitution,” the
managing editor said. “Barton interviewed two of the women who work
in his professional services group. They even have a
website.”

“
And the Denver PD?” While
the question was for Barton, the publisher’s eyes never left the
managing editors face.

“
Know all about it,”
Barton’s voice raised. “They’ve had to look away all this
time.”

“
And the Rodney Smith
angle?” The publisher said.

“
It was my decision not to
include it,” the managing editor said. “We don’t have proof that
there’s a connection.”

“
But Alvin was the
prosecutor in his case.”

“
Yes,” the managing editor
said. “That’s correct.”

“
Do you believe they’re
connected?” the publisher asked.

“
They’re connected!”
Barton’s intensity caused the publisher to look at him. Intimidated
by the look, Barton settled back in his chair.

“
The story is strong
enough without adding that detail,” the managing editor
said.