Andrew Price - Without A Hitch

Corbin let Beckett ramble. Several minutes later, he was still complaining.

“It makes me nervous as all hell that we’re working with a guy who spent the whole time sweating like a pig, whining like a baby, and freaking out every time he saw a cop.”

“Nerves are a fact of life.”

“You promised me this guy was solid. He wasn’t.”

“What do you mean not solid? He voluntarily walked into bank after bank and handed them fake identification paperwork, knowing he was a sitting duck if they called the cops. Besides, from what I hear, you were nervous just waiting around outside.”

Beckett glared at Corbin. “Who told you that? Did that weasel call you and bitch about me?!”

“Take it easy.”

“Did he tell you about his eruption at the McDonalds?! Did he tell you he nearly started a fist fight at the counter with a cop ten feet away?”

“Calm down. It’s over.”

Beckett’s nostrils flared. He took several deep breaths. Finally, he began to calm down. “You’re right. The hard part’s done.”

Corbin turned off the main road. They were two minutes from the office. “We’re almost back. Last chance to yell, scream, whatever you need to do to get the adrenaline out of your system. Then we need to get you back into office mode.”

“I’m all right. Tell me about the office.”

“You spent the entire day out processing and being pulled from office to office so people could wish you good riddance.” Corbin handed Beckett a sheet of paper. “Here’s a list of everyone who dropped by to see you. The checkmarks mean you e-mailed them that you would drop by later. Patricia’s looking for you. She wants your out-processing file. I’ve got that in my desk. Kak came by a couple times. I think he wants to give you his standard goodbye words of wisdom.”

“He won’t do that at the party?”

“No, he never goes to the party. He’ll corner you privately and tell you you’re a flawed human being and that someday you’ll thank him for telling you that. That’s his way of making himself feel better.”

“Jerk off to the end, huh?”

“Yep. At this point, Molly’s the only one who’s suspicious. She’s been a royal pain in the ass. She doesn’t believe you’re in the office today. She thinks you’re playing hooky. Don’t commit to being in the office at any particular time, she may have been tracking her visits. Also, don’t tell her you were at your desk for more than five minutes at any one time. F-Y-I, you’ve bought two cups of coffee today and drank about half of each, but never right away, just sips whenever you made it back to the office. You and I went to lunch around 12:15 and got back at one. On the post-lunch coffee trip, we ran into Stuart, who told us about his TiVo recording porn during the days. At that point, the front office came and took you away.”

“Who from the front office?”

“I didn’t say. I’d go with Zolensky, he won’t remember if he talked to you.”

“Won’t Stuart know I wasn’t with you at the time?”

“No, he’s actually pretty sure he saw you several times during the day. Also, Stuart won’t mention the porn thing to Molly or anyone else, so there’s no real chance of anyone investigating the story. Finally, remember you’ve been busy meeting people all day. You need to be calm, if not a bit worn down, and very, very bored.”

“Got it. How did the alibis go?”

“Perfectly. Traceable phone calls, computer usage, e-mails, lunch receipts, credit card bills, and one court reporter. It all went off without a hitch.”

Beckett stared out the window as the mall parking garage came into view. “I’ve got to hand it to you, this thing is working like a charm.”

When they stepped off the elevator, Corbin scouted their hallway. It was clear. He waved Beckett through. “Go to the end, down by Theresa. I’ll lure Molly out of her office. When you hear her, come around the corner like you’ve been up at the front office. Take this,” Corbin whispered, as he handed Beckett a file. Beckett took the file and walked silently to the end of the hallway. No one saw him. After he ducked around the corner, Corbin knocked on Molly’s door.

“Come in,” she called out. Her mood soured when Corbin stuck his head through the door. “What do you want?”

“I wanted to apologize.”

“Go ahead.” She folded her arms and stared at him with cold eyes.

“Sorry.”

She squinted at him and furrowed her brow. “That’s it?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Keep tryin’,” Molly said with great annoyance.

“I’m really sorry?”

“If that’s all you’ve got-”

“I could build a temple in your honor?”

Molly involuntarily cracked a smile, but quickly regained her grim expression. “That’s a start,” she said, trying to sound “not convinced.”

“Seriously, I am sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” Corbin said genuinely.

Molly’s grim facade softened and her lips surrendered their frown.

“I’ve got an extra cookie in my desk,” Corbin continued. “Would you accept an offering instead of a temple?”

“Maybe. . let me see the cookie.”

Corbin stepped into his office next door. Molly followed him as predicted. When she entered the hallway, Beckett turned the corner. Molly saw him a millisecond later.

“O-M-G! It’s the invisible man!”

“What?” Beckett asked.

“Where have you been?!”

“Front office.” He walked past Molly to his desk and sat down.

“I mean all day.”

Beckett looked confused. “I don’t follow you?”

“Where have you been all day .”

“I don’t understand? I’ve been here all day.”

“I can most definitely say you have not been in this building all day.”

Beckett at Corbin. “Did I miss something?”

Molly’s expression changed to anger. “Fine! Be that way! But I know the truth. I’ll figure it out, and you’ll be sorry.” Molly backed out the door, slamming it on her way out.

Corbin signaled Beckett that Molly could be listening at the door. Beckett nodded. “What was that about?” he asked loudly, toward the door.

“Insanity. Sad when it happens to someone you know. Cookie?”

After reading his e-mails, Beckett set about visiting everyone who had been promised a visit. He found this extremely tiring, but knew it was necessary to solidify his alibi. Interestingly, not one person, other than Molly, suspected he had been gone. Some even believed they saw him during the day. Once again, Corbin accurately predicted human nature.

Toward the end of the day, the front office arranged to serve cake in one of the conference rooms in Beckett’s honor. This was an ancient office tradition which Beckett knew was coming. He liked the idea of the free cake, but knew the price of admission would include a goodbye speech. He also would have to endure one of Wilson’s infamous “tribute” speeches. Wilson never set out to offend anyone, but his stream-of-consciousness speaking style combined with his general lack of judgment to create what some in the office maliciously termed “verbal diarrhea.”

“You ready?” Corbin asked Beckett.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Any idea what you’re gonna say?”

“I wrote something last week I thought I’d read.” Beckett pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. “When I came here a year ago, I had a very negative opinion of this office and particularly the management. It is now a year later. Thank you all for your best wishes, goodbye.”

Corbin laughed. “I’ll give you five bucks, cold hard cash, if you say that!”

“Don’t think I haven’t given it serious consideration.”

“What are you really going to say?”