Families are complex. Charlotte sighed as she read through her young client’s file. She moved to the computer and entered the National Security database.
“OK, Bradley, let’s see if you have a history with the Department of Children and Families before you committed the assault,” she mumbled as she flicked through the pages on screen, moving to the P’s.
“Parnell, Parnell … Bradley Parnell.”
Charlotte froze.
Mitchell Parker.
Mitch … Mitchell Anthony.
She followed his listing, reading Mitch’s date of birth, religion and his mother’s maiden name.
Mitch, that’s definitely you! Why were you involved with the state?
She looked again at the information.
“You would have been ten or eleven when this entry was logged,” she said talking to herself, her eyes affixed on the screen. “Your parents were alive, and they’re listed, so it’s not an adoption record. It must be a hospital record. And the only reason a hospital record would come through to the state is if there was suspicion of child abuse.”
Her finger hovered over the key.
Damn, I don’t have access to the file, but I know someone who does. No, it’s a breach of the privacy act to read the file without relevant grounds, she reminded herself.
The phone intercom buzzed and Charlotte jumped.
“Brad’s arrived,” the receptionist’s voice cut through her concentration.
“Thanks, I’ll come and get him.”
She quickly resumed looking for Bradley Parnell.
No entry for your name, Bradley. Mitch, if only I could access your entry …
She logged out of the network.
Mitch drove out of work and merged with the steady flow of leftover peak-hour traffic. His cell phone rang; he turned down the radio and looked at the screen, not recognizing the caller.
“Mitchell Parker,” he answered.
“Mitch my man, it’s Marco from Info Technology”
“Hi, Marco, what’s happening?”
“Thought you might like to know, that I just picked up a conversation from the lab, and Huey and Duey are stepping out.”
Mitch laughed. “That’d be Johan and Nick?”
Marco continued. “Yeah, they’re meeting a guy called Daniel at the Hotel George tonight.”
“About?”
“Don’t know, didn’t pick up any convo on that, but they’re meeting him at seven, so they’ll be heading out in a few minutes.”
“Marco, you’re a legend. I’m on my way. Did Nicholas Everett happen to call in and advise us this was happening?”
“No. No record of any call from him. Hang on.” A female voice familiar to Mitch came on the line.
“Mitch, it’s Sam. Do you want me to come with you? Nick won’t recognize me.”
“Sam!” Mitch exclaimed, “Are you working back? Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, fine. I’ve been tracking Johan’s phone records.”
“Right. No, don’t worry; I can go alone. But could you double-check with John that we weren’t advised of the meeting, before I kill Nick?”
“OK. Hold on – Marco’s checking with John now. I’ll put him back on.”
What’s Sam doing in the I.T. Department? Ah …
He heard Marco come back on the line.
“Marco, you sly dog!”
Marco laughed a deep throaty laugh.
“Samantha brought me a bite while I’m on night duty. A man’s got to eat.”
“How thoughtful; sorry to interrupt the date,” Mitch said.
“No problem, it’s all in the name of duty. And no, John hasn’t heard from Nick either.”
“Thanks.” Mitch hung up. “Good one, Nick, still holding out on us?” he said under his breath.
Marco and Sam. Why not?
His phone rang again.
“Parker,” he announced.
“Mitch, it’s Nick. Johan’s meeting Daniel at seven at the Hotel George.”
“Hey, thanks. Do you know why?”
“No. I thought we were done with Daniel, so beats me. How do you want to play this?”
“I’ll head over there and observe. I won’t be able to bug the area; it would take me two days to get the paperwork through.”
“I’m meeting Johan straight after his meeting with Daniel,” Nick said, “I guess I’ll fill you in after that.”
“Thanks, Nick.”
Mitch headed to the Hotel George.
Mitch sat at a table in the far corner of the bar, his eyes fixed on Johan and Daniel who were seated on stools at the counter.
Who is this Daniel Reid and what’s his connection?
Mitch watched as Daniel pulled some paperwork from his briefcase. Johan made a few notes. He didn’t look happy and shook his head several times.
Why isn’t Nick involved in this meeting?
Mitch raised his newspaper as Daniel rose and departed. He kept his eyes fixed on Johan who sat finishing a coffee. Within minutes, Nick joined him, ordering something from a passing waiter. They talked briefly and then Johan departed. Mitch watched as Nick sat back and lit a cigarette. The waiter delivered him a coffee. He stirred it and eventually turned and looked around. Mitch waited until they had eye contact, rose and left the bar. He walked towards his car, while dialing Nick’s number. Nick answered.
“How’s it going?” Mitch asked.
“Good. Not going to join me?” Nick asked.
“Bit risky, don’t you think?”
“Maybe.”
“What’s going on?” Mitch slid into his car seat.
“The project’s coming forward a week. I’ve got to get over there for work anyway, but the event will take place a week earlier than we planned.” Nick said.
“OK. When? What time?” Mitch asked.
“Whenever you book me on a flight. Tomorrow afternoon would be good.” He heard Nick sip his coffee. “I assume you and your crew are coming along?”
Mitch ignored the question. “I’ll book it. So what was tonight’s meeting about?”
“A couple of the investors want an earlier tour of the lab than we had planned. Johan and Daniel were deciding whether to set up a fake situation or stall them.”
“And?” Mitch pushed him.
“Johan is going to try and delay them to the following weekend; we’ll be gone by then. If he can’t, he’s got to do it on Wednesday or Thursday this week. That’s why he’s not coming over with me.”
“Right. So those scientists that we have profiles for really exist?”
Nick paused. “Geez, you’ve been busy haven’t you? They’re actors. They’ll be hired for the day to play the part if needed.”
“Nick, who is this Daniel guy?”
“For chrissake, Mitch! You’re like a dog with a bone. He’s looking after finances. What don’t you believe about that? Do you want me to make something up?”
Mitch waited; he ran his hand over his jaw.
“Don’t use that silent technique on me, I’ve got nothing else to say about him,” Nick snapped.
“Get over yourself. I’m not using any technique on you. I was thinking, if that’s OK with you? You’re holding out on me, Nick. What’s in it for Daniel?” Mitch demanded.
He heard Nick take a deep breath. “He coordinates the investors’ money, makes the purchases, signs checks and gets a solid percentage of the gold. No risk other than financial.”
“Where did he come from?”
“Don’t know. He’s connected to Johan.”
“Why D.C.?” Mitch continued.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re stalling. If the job is in Nevada, what are you doing in D.C.?”
“I don’t know. I guess working out of the university is designed to impress the investors.” Mitch heard Nick pay for his coffee and shortly after, he came into view, walking out of the bar.
“Do you need a lift?” Mitch asked.
“No, thanks. I’ve still got the hire car. The one like Dad’s, remember?”
“Uh-huh, funny. I’ll call you with the flight times. And Nick, thanks,” Mitch hung up and pulled out of the car space.
Charlie, Thai takeaway, a DVD and a good bottle of wine, Mitch sighed, not a bad way to spend the night.
He maneuvered his Audi into the garage, parked it and hurried up the stairs out of the cold.
Mitch opened the front door and saw a suitcase in the hallway.
“Charlie?”
“Mitch, in the kitchen.”
Mitch walked through.
“Lachlan,” he said, seeing Charlotte’s ex-boyfriend slouching over the kitchen bench.
“Hi Mitch, sorry to be a freeloader. I had to come up for a contract meeting, so thought I’d drop in.”
“Sure, no problem,” Mitch said unconvincingly.
“So, it’s three for dinner and a DVD,” Charlotte added.
“Ah, sorry, but its back to two. I’m flying out to Nevada tomorrow, so I’ve got to head into work tonight; book flights for the team, get gear, do paperwork, you know the story.”
“Sure do,” Lachlan agreed.
Mitch looked at him. I bet you do buddy, he thought.
“Right,” Charlotte said. Mitch could feel her eyes boring into him.
“Have a beer though, before you go,” Lachlan grabbed him one. “An after-work wind down.”
“Thanks,” Mitch took it grudgingly. “I’m just going to pack.” He left the kitchen, hurriedly walking down the hallway to his own bedroom and closed the door.
That’s it, forget it! He thought. I’ve been acting like a love-sick teenager. Thank God I’m going to Nevada – out of the house and away for a while. Why do I let her get to me? For a guy who’s supposed to be interstate on business, he’s in my face a hell of a lot. No more thinking about her, I’ve got better things to do.
He threw some clothes in an overnight bag.
Pathetic. No more accepting invitations to stay in her room and talk or having her fall asleep beside me. Enough. Forget it, move on.
He gulped a mouthful of beer.
He finished stuffing the small overnight bag with half a dozen black T-shirts and pants. He grabbed some socks, underwear and his runners and tossed them all in on top of each other. Mitch heard a knock at the door.
“Mitch, can I come in?”
He opened the door and Charlotte entered, closing it behind her.
“While Lachlan’s in the shower, I wanted to have a quick chat.”
“What’s up?” he turned away, zipping up his duffel bag.
“Mitch, you’re angry at me …”
“Charlie …”
“Don’t deny it, I know you, and you’ve every right to be annoyed at me. I’m like a yo-yo. I waste your time crying on your shoulder and as soon as Lachlan appears whispering apologies, I’m back on with him like nothing happened. And I know you hate playing the role of therapist …”
“Charlie, stop,” Mitch interrupted her. He threw his bag on the ground and turned to face her. “It’s your business, not mine. Do what you want. If you want to give it another try with Lachlan, you should – you guys have a history. But …,” he paused.
“But?”
He looked away, started to say something and stopped.
“Mitch?”
He rubbed his hand over his chin and put his hands in the pockets of his pants.
“Charlie,” he looked at her. “It would be better, that is, I don’t want to be asked …” he stopped. “I don’t want to be on-call to sleep next to you, like a stand-in warm body, every time things get bad between the two of you.”
Charlotte stepped back.
“I mean, it’s one thing to support you as a friend; and hey, I’ll do that any time, every time – but the crashing in the same room stuff, we’re roommates, and …”
“I get what you mean,” she retorted. “I’m sorry, I won’t ask you to do that again. It was insensitive of me. I never thought of you as a stand-in warm body; more of a …”
“More of a brotherly-type,” he finished her sentence.
“Yes, no,” she stammered. “I promise I won’t call on you for that again.”
Damn, I’m making a mess of this.
Charlotte headed for the door.
“Charlie, you don’t understand,” he reached for her arm, pulling her back, and turning her so that she faced him. He pulled her closer and heard her inhale sharply.
“It’s not that I don’t want to comfort you and be close to you – it’s just that I don’t think my heart could take any more of it.” He let her go.
There! It’s been said. He exhaled.
Charlotte stared at him, then reached for him.
“Mitch, I didn’t realize. I’m sorry, Sally warned me.” He felt her arms go around him and she pressed her forehead against his chest.
He slowly moved to hold her, listening for the shower running in the next room.
She looked up at him. “I’m such an idiot!”
Mitch smiled. “Charlie, this is not helping.”
Charlotte laughed. They looked at each for a few moments.
He gently pushed her away. “Now go. I need to take a cold shower.” He pushed her towards the door, opened it and closed it behind her.
Mitch sat down on the bed, feeling a dull pain in his chest.