Dave Zeltserman - Outsourced

“That’s a fucking great idea,” Peyton said.

“What I like about it is it can be started with very little capital,” Dan said. “A hundred thousand, and I think I could get this going.”

“Maybe I can help you out. Let’s talk later, okay, man? Call me next week.”

“Sure.” Dan paused, added, “As long as you don’t string me along like you did with Gordon and his Texas open-pit barbecue.”

Dan had meant the comment as a joke, but as soon as it came out he knew it was more pettiness rearing its ugly head. He wanted to kick himself. Peyton gave a pained, almost apologetic smile.

“Yeah, well, I guess I deserved that.” Lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper he added, “I’ll explain about that later, okay, man?”

“Forget it. You don’t have to. Me, I don’t think I would’ve wanted to go into business with Gordon either.”

“It’s not that.” Peyton checked the rearview mirror, saw that Carol and Wendy were engaged in a heated conversation. Keeping his voice low, he said, “I would’ve given Gordon the money as a gift, but Wendy didn’t want me to. She was afraid Gordon would be over to the house all the time if we started a business together. As it was, she wanted me to wean him away from us. Shit, man, I wanted to help him out, but there was nothing I could do without pissing off the wife.”

“I was joking more than anything else.”

Peyton didn’t bother saying bullshit, but the look he gave Dan indicated as much. “Do you have any idea what Gordon was doing in Lynn?” he asked.

“No idea. All I can think of is he knew I had finished a contract with that bank. He must’ve gotten it in his head that if they hired me there was a chance they’d hire him.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Yeah, I know, but we’re talking about Gordon.”

As they drove, Peyton remarked how weird life was going to be without Gordon around. After all, he had known Gordon almost half his life. There was a note of remorse in Peyton’s voice. At one point he seemed to choke up. Dan felt nothing, but he played along and pretended to be equally affected by Gordon’s passing.

How in the world could he be expected to feel anything?

After what Gordon did to those two women?

The way Gordon screwed him?

And he did screw him. All he asked of the guy was to keep his mouth shut for ten minutes. Don’t do anything crazy for ten lousy minutes. He couldn’t do it, though. He had to turn the robbery into shit.

As much as he’d like to, Dan couldn’t blame Joel for the way he was acting. He couldn’t blame Shrini either. He knew trying to get Shrini’s cut from Joel was pointless, and he knew trying to talk Shrini out of it was just as pointless. The damn thing was going to end up with one or the other of them dead. All he could hope for was when the dust settled he’d somehow be left out of it. Thinking about that exhausted him. He closed his eyes, sat back and listened to Peyton reminisce about all the good times with Gordon.

The funeral service was scheduled to take place at the grave site. When they arrived at the grave, there were only a handful of people standing around. Aside from the minister and the cemetery workers, there were six mourners, all elderly. Although Dan had never met Gordon’s parents he had heard enough stories about them to be able to pick them out. Gordon’s father was a tall man in his eighties, his mother short, plump, exuding both a cheeriness and sadness at the same time. Even though Gordon was their only child, his father had written him out of his will years ago simply because he didn’t feel his son measured up. Gordon had told Dan that if his old man died first, he was sure his mom would write him back into the will, but he thought there was little chance of that happening. In fact, Gordon was convinced his old man would outlive him. Although Gordon never talked about it, Dan knew the reason he signed up for the Vietnam War was to try to win his father’s approval, since the senior Carmichael had been a decorated war hero during World War II. Likewise the reason he later went to Yale. Neither of them helped. According to his father, Yale wasn’t the same as Harvard and the Vietnam War was a national disgrace.

As they approached the grave, Gordon’s father stared at them disapprovingly before looking away, his face set in a harsh scowl. Peyton introduced himself. Gordon’s father stood silently, his scowl deepening.

“I am so sorry for your loss,” Peyton said.

The senior Carmichael nodded grimly. Dry-eyed, he commented that he never understood how a grown man could waste his life doing something as frivolous as playing with computers. Gordon’s mother touched Dan’s arm, her eyes moistening with tears. She thanked Dan for being there.

The service was short. The minister didn’t have much to say about Gordon, mostly talked about how his death would affect his parents. Near the end of the service, Dan could feel someone staring at him. He turned and spotted a man sitting in a late-model Buick. The guy was definitely staring at him and, as Dan stared back, he couldn’t help feeling that he had seen this man before. Then he remembered where.

Somehow he kept himself under control and nodded to the detective who returned his nod. He forced himself to face forward. The minister’s words blurred together into a monotonous hum. As he swallowed, he could feel a fuzziness coating his throat, then a coldness pushing hard into his skull. A shadow fell over his eyes and the world started to slip sideways on him.

I’m going to pass out right here, Dan thought. Well, fuck it, let them think I was overcome with grief.

But he knew the cop wouldn’t think that.

The moment passed. Gripping the seat of his chair with both hands, he kept himself upright. While his heart was beating wildly, he knew he was no longer going to pass out. He just had to think this through. It made perfect sense for that cop to come here. Why should he have expected anything different? And as far as that cop now connecting him to Gordon, so what? It didn’t matter. They had already pinned the robbery and shootings on Raymond Lombardo. So now he just had to stay calm…

“Are you okay?”

He turned to Carol. “I don’t know, I was just thinking about Gordon,” he said. “I’ll be okay.”

Carol took hold of his hand and squeezed it.

The service ended. He didn’t want to walk back to Peyton’s SUV and have to pass that cop. Instead, he wandered over to the minister and engaged him in small talk. He was trying to steel himself for what was coming when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Dan Wilson?”

Dan turned, forcing a confused smile as he looked back at the cop. “I thought you looked familiar. Detective…?”

“Alex Resnick.”

“That’s right.”

Carol was looking on. Dan introduced her to Resnick and told her he had met Resnick the other day when he met with Brown, that the detective was investigating the bank robbery.

“Anything I can help you with?” he asked.

“This is quite a coincidence,” Resnick said. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Small world, huh? Gordon and I were good friends. We worked off and on together for almost twenty years.”

“I saw his obituary had him as an engineer. So he was a computer programmer like you?”

“Software engineer, that’s right.”

Resnick glanced around. “Doesn’t look like he had many other friends.”

“Connecticut is a fair hike from Boston.”

“I’m sure plenty of people from his community theater would’ve come if the funeral were closer,” Peyton’s wife, Wendy, volunteered.

Resnick raised an eyebrow as he turned to her. “Community theater? Was Gordon an actor?”