Линвуд Баркли - Find You First

“I know.” Miles paused.

Gilbert’s cheeks began to flush. “Just so I understand, you’re divvying up your fortune to all the relatives you don’t actually know, and not recognizing the only one you do.”

“I suppose I’d be angry, too,” Miles said.

“Look, I can’t excuse what Caroline did. I’m deeply sorry about that, but...” And he started to shake his head angrily. “If you weren’t dying I’d kick your ass.”

“Don’t let that stop you.”

Gilbert tossed the sheet of paper back to his brother and gripped the wheel so hard his fingers went white. “I always looked out for you.”

“That’s true,” Miles said. “Why do you think I brought you into the company?”

“I’ve thought about that. And so has Caroline, for that matter. You didn’t hire me out of any brotherly loyalty. No, you did it so you could show me, every day, how much more successful you are than I am. I work for you . That’s the message.”

“That’s not true. That has never been true.”

“And now you’re coming to the rescue of a bunch of mystery kids. This isn’t about helping them. It’s about making yourself look good. Going out on a high note.”

“No,” Miles said. “Getting news that your time is running out, it changes you.” His eyelids fluttered. “I think I’m going to be sick. I need some air.” He set the piece of paper with the names on it on top of the dashboard, opened the door, and got out. A brief wind gust took the page and dropped it into the passenger’s-side footwell.

Miles took a few steps away from the car into the tall grasses beyond the shoulder and leaned over, putting his hands on his knees, waiting to see whether he was going to be sick to his stomach.

Gilbert looked down into the footwell at the piece of paper with the list of names. He reached down for it, held it in his hand.

Stared at the nine names.

And then he reached into his pocket for his phone, opened the camera app, held it away from the page until it was properly focused, and fired off several pictures.

Then Gilbert let the page flutter back to the floor.

Miles came back, opened the door, and settled into the passenger seat.

“I’m ready to go back,” he said, reaching down for the piece of paper, then folding it and tucking it into his jacket.

Springfield, MA

The second time Chloe went to visit Todd, ten days after their first meeting, she went to his place. She wanted to get some video of him in his home environment, and see if his mother would be okay with answering a few questions for the minidoc she was putting together.

She entered his address into the map app on her phone. Her Pacer, not surprisingly, was not equipped with a navigational system. Nor, for that matter, was it equipped with air-conditioning, a working radio, or a windshield that did not have a huge crack in it. He had told her his place was immediately past a fire station, behind a line of trees. There was no name on the mailbox, but Todd had told her to look for the one that was totally covered in rust. Turned out there were a few of those, but eventually she found it.

Chloe turned into the first driveway after spotting the fire station, and very soon the trees opened up to reveal a mobile home. Parked out front were a small Hyundai and a Volkswagen Golf. At the sound of her approach, the front door of the trailer — well, there were actually two, but the one closest to the hitch apparatus — opened and Todd stepped out, waving. He was followed out the door by a woman in her fifties.

“Hey!” Todd said, bounding down the cinder block steps and rushing over to give Chloe a hug as she got out of her car. She was a little taken aback by the gesture, but responded in kind, putting her arms around him and giving him a squeeze.

Todd pointed to the woman, who was limping toward them, a smile on her face. “Chloe, this is my mom. Mom, this is Chloe.”

“I’m Madeline,” she said, and gave Chloe her second hug. Madeline had tears in her eyes. “I can’t believe it. It’s just a miracle. I’m so happy to meet you.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty neat,” Chloe agreed.

“Excuse my hobbling,” Madeline said. “I did something to my ankle, but I’m okay.”

“Let’s go inside,” Todd said. “You want a beer or something?”

Chloe shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”

Todd ran back to the trailer. Chloe took her time so that she could walk alongside Madeline, who wasn’t moving as quickly.

“He’s so excited,” Todd’s mother said. “Well, so am I. How was the drive?”

“Good. It was good.”

Madeline struggled with the steps up to the trailer door, but made it without complaint. Once inside, Chloe looked about. Dishes in the sink, takeout food containers scattered about. In her head, she was saying, I hope you didn’t go to any trouble, but kept her sarcasm to herself, this time.

Todd had taken three cans of beer from the fridge, handed one to his mom first, then one to Chloe.

“Let’s sit down,” Madeline said. “This ankle is killing me.”

“What happened?” Chloe asked.

Madeline laughed. “I was stepping out of the tub and I don’t know what I did. Turned it the wrong way. Who knows!” She cackled. “You get to a certain age you can throw your back out just wiping your ass.”

“Mom, Jesus,” Todd said, cracking his own beer and taking a swig.

They all sat at the small kitchen table. Chloe dropped into a chair by an open laptop and two cell phones, one of them a really cheap flip one like she hadn’t seen in a decade. When her elbow bumped the table the screen came life. She glanced at it and noticed, quickly, it opened onto a webpage listing various senior citizen facilities in New Hampshire.

“Let me get that out of your way,” Todd said, folding the screen down and shoving the laptop to the end of the table. “How about this, huh? We’re like a family.”

Madeline reached out and squeezed Chloe’s hand. “I’m already thinking of you as the daughter I never had.”

Chloe said, “Uh-huh.”

“I’m really looking forward to us getting to know each other.”

Chloe smiled awkwardly. “Me too. Did Todd tell you I wanted to ask you some questions, like, on video? I’m kind of doing my own little documentary about this — what should I call it? Journey of self-discovery? I don’t know if anyone will ever see it, but it’s something I feel I need to do.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Madeline said. She ran her fingers through her ratty hair, which looked not unlike an oversized bird’s nest. “How do I look?”

“Great,” Chloe said. She got out her phone. She’d decided to do everything handheld, and not use her minitripod.

“Is the lighting okay?” Todd asked. A single bulb hung over the table.

“Perfect,” she said.

Madeline smiled, getting ready for her close-up. Todd said, “I guess you don’t need me for this part.”

“Not really,” Chloe said.

Todd stood, scooped up the laptop and the two phones, and disappeared down the hallway that led to a room at the back of the trailer. Madeline and Chloe heard a door close.

“Can I talk to you about something?” Madeline said, leaning in closer and whispering. “I mean, before you start filming?”

Chloe lowered the phone. “Okay.”

“I’m worried about him.”

“Oh.”

“He doesn’t listen to me. But he might listen to you. He’s been doing some things he shouldn’t.”

“Like?”

“I’m not sure. But you should ask him where he gets enough money to live like this. A place of his own.”

Chloe cast her eye about the debris-strewn kitchen. “Right.”

“He’s got some job at a computer store but I know they don’t pay him much. I know he’s up to something.”