Chapter 37

Father Son Moment

Patrick was back at his perch in the VSC lobby weighing his options. He pulled the DVD out of his inside jacket pocket and flipped the silver disc over in his hands, his blurred reflection flicking by with each turn. All he saw was Lisa. Lisa with George’s hand on her shoulder. Lisa sitting next to George in that conference room. Lisa being introduced by George as the mayor’s daughter and an integral part of the Burnam & Green team. Lisa laughing at something George said, then having the gall to look sympathetic when Victor called George on his bullshit.

Even though he’d broken up with her, Patrick thought Lisa would wait for him forever. He was wrong. She’d obviously moved on to her dream job at Burnam & Green working for that prick George. Maybe it was time he moved on too. Seeing Lisa today had shattered an illusion that he’d been holding close—that he would do the right thing and eventually hand over the evidence to the police. It was a lie. Deep in his heart, Patrick knew he could never betray his father. Victor was family. Lisa, he realized sadly, was just an ex-girlfriend.

He’d give the DVD to his dad and let him explain what happened that day in the parking garage. Maybe Lisa’s father was threatening him, his family, or his business? Nothing excused murder, but Patrick needed answers.

He thought about Victor’s words to Lisa after the meeting. Standing a few steps away, he’d pretended to check his phone while his father took Lisa aside. It came as a jolt to see Victor speaking directly to her.

“I knew your father,” Victor said. “He was a good and loyal friend once. I’ll always regret we couldn’t reconcile our differences. Please give your mother my best.” His father had spoken with such sincerity. Only a sociopath could do that. Patrick had known a few teenage psychos in his time at the Academy. He hoped he could recognize the same in his own father, but so far Victor had seemed genuine.

Patrick slid the DVD back into his jacket pocket and walked across the lobby, then down a hall with offices on either side. His father’s door was ajar, which Patrick knew meant he was free for visitors. He knocked lightly and peered into his father’s vast office.

Victor sat at a large mahogany desk reviewing some documents. He looked up and, seeing Patrick, smiled warmly. “Son, come in. And close the door, would you? I don’t want anyone to disturb us.” He stood and waved Patrick toward a pair of brown leather armchairs that flanked a gas fireplace lit with a cheerful flame. Patrick took the seat closest to the fire.

“Join me in a glass of scotch?” asked Victor.

“Sure,” said Patrick from his seat. Patrick hated his father’s liquor of choice. It all tasted like ashes to him, but by this point Patrick knew better than to refuse, or to ask for something else.

Victor stepped away from his desk and walked to a built-in cabinet to the left of the fireplace which held a well-stocked bar. He poured them both a drink and dropped a chip of ice into each crystal tumbler. He turned back to Patrick and handed him a glass.

“You really gave George Green what was coming to him,”
said Patrick.

Victor stood over Patrick and sipped his drink. “Why should you care what happens to Green?” he asked, in his usual direct way.

Patrick froze, forcing himself not to blink or shift his gaze from Victor’s while he thought of a way out of his blunder. He’d kept so many secrets over the last six months that telling the truth now felt unnatural. “I don’t. It’s just, the guy seems like a real jerk. Totally had it coming.”

Victor held Patrick’s eyes a moment too long. The once charming fire suddenly made the room feel sweltering, and Patrick felt prickles of sweat start to run down his back. Son or not, Victor didn’t trust anyone.

“I’m really only interested in George’s building,” said Victor as he took a seat. “It’s valued at one hundred million dollars, but if I can bankrupt Burnam & Green, I think I can talk the owners down to seventy-five easy.”

“Bankrupt? How will you do that?” asked Patrick, trying to keep his voice indifferent.

“Shouldn’t be tough. I’ll hire him.”

Patrick blinked. “You’re going to hire George? After you threw him out of the building?”

“That was just icing on the cake. Felt good to knock that prick down a few pegs. A few years ago, he wouldn’t give me the time of day. And technically, I’m not going to hire him. My offshore company PSC will, but George won’t even notice.” Victor took another sip and leaned back in his chair, his legs wide. “Burnam was the real brains behind B&G. Since he retired, George has lost half his clients. The earthquake pushed him deep in the red, and I’ll finish him off. I’m the nail in George Green’s coffin,” said Victor with a smile. “We’ll keep his staff working round the clock for months on some bullshit campaign. Then PSC will conveniently go belly up, and no pay day for George.”

“That’s great,” said Patrick not meaning it. He thought of the hundreds of Burnam & Green employees who’d lose their jobs.

Leaning forward, Victor set his glass down on the coffee table and clasped his hands together. “Now what can I do for you, son? I’m sure you’re not here to talk about George Green.”

Patrick paused, then asked, “Did you mean what you said to Lisa Salder about her father? Was he your friend?”

“The mayor’s daughter? Do you know her?”

“We met at the Lost Lake Academy.”

“Of course. I remember recommending the school to her parents. You were close?”

“No, not really. She was just around.”

“Why your interest in the mayor’s dead husband?” asked Victor.

Patrick kept his voice measured and careful. “I met the mayor once, at work. She came to the bike shop to give a speech.” He shrugged in what he hoped was a nonchalant way. “I’m just curious.”

“Right, right,” Victor said, not sounding entirely convinced. “Ben Salder was one of my lawyers.” He picked up his glass again and finished his drink. “Ben’s murder was a real tragedy. Should never have happened, but things get out of hand sometimes.”

Patrick looked closely at his dad as he spoke. Victor’s eyes glittered, like he was on the verge of tears, and his words sounded heartfelt.

“What’s all this really about, son?” asked Victor.

Patrick rolled his glass between his palms. This was it. He’d finally reached the point of no return. He spoke. “Dad, I need to show you something.”